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	[WP] You find a homeless man in a back alley. As you approach him they make eye contact with you and ask if you want to know your future...	7	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Would you like to know your future?\" The man had a scraggly beard, an oversized hat, a coat with too many pockets, and two different shoes. He looked to be in his sixties, slightly hunched over with age.\n\n\"And how much do you want for that?\" I wasn't amused. Homeless people could scam you. My cousin was a scammer that sat on the street in ragged clothes and asked for change. I wasn't going to buy into that game.\n\n\"I'll tell you for free!\"His eyes grew wide. His left was starting to show signs of cataracts.\n\n\"Listen, buddy, I don't have time for your shenanigans. If you really want to tell me my future, make it quick, because I'm on my way to my job interview.\"\n\n\"Your job interview? And you're coming through here?\" He smirked as if he knew something. \"I'll tell you your future real quick: I'm you.\"\n\n\"You can't be me, I see streaks of brown in your hair. We both know mine's jet black.\"\n\n\"It's dirt. I can't believe you can't see the resemblance. Let me ask you, what is your dream car?\" The man smiled. A Porsche, right? Azure blue with a red interior and pinstripes?' He knew. \"I may not look like much, but I can tell you, don't go to your job interview.\"\n\n\"Why not? It's my last chance to get a job. My wife and I just moved into a new house and-\"\n\n\"You're having a baby. You fail the interview and resort to selling drugs. Julie finds you out, and dumps you, taking the baby with her. With no money and no dignity, you end up on the streets and become me. Then, one day, you spot a time machine. You go back in time, through the alley to tell yourself not to take the interview.\"\n\n\"But the interview is my last chance to get some more money! The baby's coming in September, and-\"\n\n\"Julie's going on maternity leave from her teaching job. But she doesn't have to. There is such thing as paternity leave, you know.\"\n\n\"I know, but seriously, what kind of man risks his dignity to stay home with a baby?\"\n\n\"A man who wants a promising future.\"\n\n\"I'll do it.\" The man smiled and disappeared. I was going to make my future better.\n\nA few months later while I was at home with the baby, I had an idea to invent a time machine. It was brilliant! I could have become a millionaire, but I knew what I had to do. I told Julie we were going on a vacation. We went to the future about twenty years. Our future selves welcomed us into their home. I told my future self to dress up like a homeless man(even though I didn't like the ploy) and to go back to the day of the job interview and tell me not to go to the interview. He agreed, so Julie and I went back to the present in our time machine disguised as a Porsche.\n**\nThis was a very fun prompt to write. Thanks OP!\n\nIf commenters are confused by time travel bit* The reason why he told his future self to disguise as a homeless man is because it happened in his life he was having the best days in his life.\n\n\n", "\"My future?\" I asked, startled. I was suddenly very aware that I was alone with a very homeless person in a very abandoned alley, and I started to back away...\n\n\"Can't run from your future,\" the homeless man said, \"but you're welcome to try. Tell Mel I said hi.\"\n\nI stopped. \"How do you know about my girlfriend?\"\n\nThe man laughed, deeply and bitterly. \"I know about far more than that. And you won't know her for too long, believe you me.\"\n\nA deep sense of intrigue came over me. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"There's far worse to come.\" The homeless man said, lolling his head against his ramshackle house and taking a swig of liquor. He brandished the bottle. \"You want some?\"\n\nI declined, brushing the bottle away. \"I don't know who you are, or what you want from me, but I'm leaving.\"\n\n\"That's always been your problem,\" the homeless man said, taking another swig, \"problems in general. You just run from them.\"\n\nI was getting annoyed. \"You don't even know me.\"\n\nThe homeless man stared at him with sudden, startling clarity. \"I am you.\"\n\nMy eyes widened, too shocked to speak. Suddenly it all made sense.\n\n\"Just... just be a better man, ok? Just be a better man to her. She deserves it.\"\n\nI nodded with conviction. He was right. \n\nI would be.\n\n****\n\nThe homeless man smiled, and blinked. His younger self was gone. It was suddenly so cold again, so very cold. He tried to have another swig of his bottle, but found it empty. \n\n\"He's going to be a better man to you, Mel.\" He said, pulling a ragged blanket over his battered body. \"Just like you deserved.\"" ]	[ 1, 2, 5 ]	[ "1469623561", "1469627043", "1469624265" ]
	[WP] Pope Francis declares a holy war on ISIL, calling for a Tenth Crusade.	685	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "And the Pope has cast his arms abroad for agony and loss,\t \nAnd called the kings of Christendom for swords about the Cross\t\n----Lepanto--- G. K. Chesterton.\t\n\nThe second dozer breached the old stone wall and Fisher led what was left of his platoon through it with little hesitation. What organization was left of the enemy command was trying to redirect their firing away from the dozer that continued forward, a steal monster with the cross of St. John painted on its blade. It was unfazed by the small arms fire that bounced off it. \n\nHaji wasn’t quick enough, for Fisher and his men were among them now and as the D9 dozer pushed out of the compound they found themselves in and out onto a clear street, it flooded the room with morning light. \n\nNo quarter was offered and no quarter was expected as man killed man. Ricardo lead the way as was fitting and finding the enemy too close, dropped his flamer and pulled out his hatchet. The man preferred the weapon and went to his bloody work with determination. Burying the weapon into the neck of the closes man before he could bring up his rifle. \n\nFisher turned directing his platoon that followed after him, first to clear the room and then to move left and right down the reinforced old stone wall. The fighting was as brutal as it had been on day one, all those months ago on the hellish beeches of Latakia. \n\nOnce the small compound was cleared he signaled Weber over. The boy had stayed back, the radio pack he carried was too important to risk in such close quarters work. \n\n“Radio Knight-Captain Caccamo, and tell him we have breakthrough at point echo, request follow up of the regiment”\n\nWeber nodded in understanding and turned to make the call.\n\nToday will be the day, Fisher thought. They would finally break out of this godforsaken city of Dortyol and Turkey would really open up to them and the Crusade. The long march would finally continue towards Constantinople.\n\n“Message received, herr Fisher. They are coming, and the Captain sends his congratulations.”\n\nFisher slapped the young radio man on the shoulder and gave him the best smile he could muster. He needed to show confidence, God was on their side, even if he wouldn’t save them from a bullet or a well placed IED.\n\n“Of course. Now follow me!”\n\nFisher moved towards the other breach the dozer had made and two of his squads stood ready near it while a small team took up positions to hold the compound and care for their wounded.\n\nHe took a quick peek down the street to make sure it was clear before shouting “Numquam” and charging out. His men followed behind him, taking up the old battle cry, Never Again!\n", "The sun would rise in two hours, it's impending traverse across the sky no more unstoppable than ours. I am assigned as a priest, though I was ordained merely as a formality. My charge sat next to me, covered in a heavy veil. This was not for any secrecy, everyone about me knew what we were doing, but it was simply tradition. These guys were really all about tradition. I was even ordered to allow them to decorate it with ornate gold leaf so it could bear a resemblance to it's namesake. It seemed rather pointless to me. Lifting up the veil I can see, in Gothic font, \"Ark of the Covenant\" scribed across the nose.\n\nThe cargo door of the plane opened up with a mechanical whir. I had loaded planes hundreds of times, but this made me nervous. Instead of a few hands to help, there were nearly fifty troops running about. Some were there to assist, but so many were there just to watch. A few cheers shot from the crowd as we wheeled the Ark up the ramp, I was not one of them.\n\nMy seat was right next to the Ark, strapped in so I can watch it for the entire ride. It is not like many things ever go wrong during flight, but this was a special payload which had to make it. The plane shudders and the veil covering it vibrates and shifts, as if it is alive. The intercom buzzes \"TEN MINUTES, TAKE YOUR STATIONS.\" My blood runs cold.\n\nI unstrap myself and walk about the Ark, checking all of the attachments. Prodding my console awake, I see that the Ark is still alive and happy. At least I don't have to have a direct hand in this, I can just watch. \n\nAmber lights flash all throughout the plane, warning anyone with eyes to take caution. It will be any minute now. I pull my thick shaded goggles from my breast pocket and put them on my head.\n\nA klaxon screams the impending action. This wasn't the standard military sound, they had replaced it with trumpets. The bastards had to be symbolic with every fucking gesture. I grab a handle above me and pull the veil off of the Ark and am shaken by what I see.\n\nThe largest atomic weapon ever created, adorned with gems and gold, celebrating it's perverse potential. It was decided by some group of old men in a high castle that this was the best way, that collateral damage would be justified. God would sort them out.\n\nWind rushed in as the bay doors opened beneath the Ark, desert flowing by underneath this abomination. The intercom again, though less intelligible, I knew what was next. I put on my glasses and lock my knees.\n\nMany people don't know this, but large ordinance are not dropped, they are thrown. My gut rises as the plane dives a few unsecured straps lift up about the plane, as if they are hands reaching out. Their pleas are dismissed as they are slammed into the ground. Three g's of force try to pull me into the floor, I can see the blue of the sky through the bay doors now. The skin on my face pulls my frown steeper and my rank weighs heavily across my shoulders. A click, and the Ark falls away into the blue sky, if only that is where it would stay.\n\nThe plane twists and turns, scrambling away from the destruction it has just wrought. The doors close and I walk back to my seat, counting under my breath. It was to take a little over a minute for it to reach it's target. \n\n\"Ten...Eleven...Twelve\" my throat grows tight, unable to whisper the last moments of millions of lives. \n\n\"Forty one...forty two\" I can only count in my head now. My hands are shaking, I can't even buckle my restraints. \n\n\"Fifty five...fifty six...fift\" A bright flash penetrated the skin of the plane. Through the metal, through the glass, through every shield put in place it was still unstoppable. I could have stopped it.\n\nI am become death, destroyer of worlds.", "Peter looked up from his pew at the end of Father Jameson's homily. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. A holy war? That was crazy. He would never in his entire life have thought that the Pope would declare a holy war. Such an event was unimaginable; the modern church stood for peace. \n\nBut, he understood. The events of the past few months were a clear indication that the Saracens were simply out of control. It seemed they would never rest until the entire world was either converted or dead. Why should we allow them to wipe us all out. Some action had to be taken, and the case could easily be made that this was a call to a just war.\n\nPeter was quite troubled for the remainder of that Sunday, and for the two Sundays after. He barely got any sleep. He was consumed with prayer and filled with righteous anger at every new Islamic offense against goodness. Something needed to be done, but what could he do? He had never served in the military; he had no experience fighting wars. He was only nineteen, barely a man. No, he had finally resolved that he would support the war in some other way on that third Sunday since the first cry of Deus Vult had gone up from the mouth of the Catholic people.\n\nThat night, the Lord appeared to Peter in a dream. “My people cry out in the desert. From their lips come the cry for justice. Whom shall I send to my people, that they would not be slaughtered by the evil one? That they would not be offered up to Satan as a sacrifice? Is there none so brave? Is there none in my Holy Church willing to answer my call?”\n\nPeter, in awe of the appearance of Jesus, fell to his knees. Unable to look directly at the Lord, whose brilliance shown a thousand times greater than the sun at midday, he closed his eyes tightly. But, he held up his hands to God and replied. “Here is your servant, Lord. Let me do as you command me.”\n\n“Arise, Peter.” Peter found he was now able to look upon the risen Lord with his eyes. He found the strength to stand. “I give to you my sword and my shield. Take them, and with them cut down those who bring unjust harm to my people. End their tyranny.”\n\nWhen Peter woke the next morning, he saw by his bed a sword and a shield. He picked up the shield; inscribed upon it was a Latin slogan Verbum Domini “The Word of the Lord.” On the shield was inscribed a large ichthys, the ancient symbol of faith by which the persecuted Christians in the early Roman Empire would identify one another. Taking these with him, Peter began his journey to Rome, where he would join the New Crusade.\n\nMany weeks later, Peter found himself in a group of fresh young recruits. All of them were Americans; the church had group soldiers by nationality in order to facilitate communication and avoid confusion on the battlefield. He had been given a standard assault rifle. He wore his sword on his back in a religiously decorated sheath, and carried his shield on his left arm. This group would be one of many to storm Afghanistan as part of a multi-front invasion tactic designed to throw the terrorists off guard. The main objective was to sever their communication as quickly as possible, which was a task entrusted to groups of seasoned veterans, and then to find and dispose of the high-ranking members of the organization.\n\nPeter gripped his gun tightly as he charged into battle. The group in he front of his battalion had been take out quickly by an ambush. There was death on all sides of him; men on both sides of the fight were being killed more quickly than he could comprehend. The only thing protecting him from imminent death was the large shield he held in front of himself. Strangely, while others seemed to lose faith in the face of all the carnage, Peter's faith only increased with every projectile his shield repelled. He gripped his firearm even more tightly, dispatching enemy after enemy, and slaying any Islamic soldiers he came across.\n\nPeter stood alone among hundreds of corpses. Here and there along the landscape he saw crusaders standing, dripping and bloody. They had won this fight, but they were stranded with no way to communicate in the middle of hostile enemy territory, for the communications equipment had all been destroyed in the initial explosion. Suddenly, a Muslim man reached up towards Peter. “Please, have mercy on me.” He cried.\n\nPeter was moved to compassion, and he reached for his canteen. Bending down, he handed it to the man so he could have something to drink. Tears welled up in Peter's eyes. “I am sorry it has come to this.” He lamented vehemently. “Why would the Lord send us into battle to kill our fellow man? Could this truly be what He has asked of us?” He fell to his knees, but something felt wrong about this man before him.\n\nPeter raised his shield just in time, as a bullet glanced off of it. He looked into the eye of the man pointing a revolver at him. Hatred burned in the man; Peter could feel it. He wanted Peter and all of the other Crusaders to die. “Die infidel!” The man shouted, firing another bullet. This one, too, glanced off of Peter's shield. \n\nPeter fired back, but his own gun only clicked; it was empty. The man smiled with a sinister and evil grin. He ripped away Peter's shield, kicking him to the ground. As he fell, Peter's hand landed on the hilt of his sword, which had been knocked to the ground during the fight. “Beg for your life, dog. Renounce your Christ and I will spare you.” Peter refused, and the man fired one last bullet.\n\nAs if by some external force, Peter felt his hand grip the sword. Simultaneously, he felt some force push him over, causing him not only to evade the bullet, but also to draw his blade across the man's chest. In a moment, Peter regained control over his own body, and he wondered what it was that had possessed him.\n\nThe Saracen fell to the ground, silent and dead. The Verbum Domini glistened in the desert sun, no blood upon it. The other crusaders approached Peter, all scared out of their wits. It was then that Peter knew why God had put him here. He was here to lead these men to victory over the Saracens, and then to lead them safely home.\n\nEdit: I think I may have said \"Peter\" too many times, but oh well. Please let me know what you think.", "Charles wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, cursing the desert as he did so. He tucked his helmet under his arm once more and rested his hand on the pommel of his sword. How much longer were they going to take in there? The commanders had already established a plan and received permission to execute, but their pre-battle prayer seemed to be taking them a while. Charles peeked into the tent through a tear in the fabric. Just as he did so, the commanders emerged from the tent, donning their helmets as they did so. The commander of Charles' regiment emerged as well and nodded toward him. It was time.\n\n\nThe Knights were lined side by side, their knees almost touching as their mounts trudged forward in the sand. Charles was riding on the right side of the first line, his regiment beside and behind him. \n\n\"HALT.\" The commander bellowed. He turned his mount and rode in front of his men. \n\"Knights of the lord! We have gathered here to extinguish the heretic presence that is ISIS!\" His regiment roared in agreement and eagerness. \n\"Some of you may not return this day, but know that if this is your fate, the lord awaits your arrival in heaven!\" The regiment roared again.\nThe commander drew his sword, and raised it. \"Exterminate the heretics!\" The regiment roared once again. Charles and all of his comrades did the same. \n\nCharles began to shake in anticipation and fear. He gripped his horse's reigns tighter and sent a prayer to his lord. At this moment, the regiment charged.\n\n\nMuhammed Al Narabi sat in a tattered lawn chair in the street of Baghdad. His compatriots all around him. After executing the latest group of infidels, his band of fighters was rather drained. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting his rifle rest in his lap. That was when he heard it. A mighty roar that arose in the distance, and drew quickly closer with a sound like thunder. Muhammed's eyes snapped open and he frantically glanced around. His brothers stood and did the same. Muhammed turned around to face the desert... Maybe there was a group of trucks or-\n\nCharles ran his blade through the neck of the closest heretic, nearly severing his head from his shoulders. His fellow heretics were swiftly overtaken by his fellow Knights and dispatched just as swiftly. The tenth crusade had officially begun.\n\n(C&c appreciated.)\n\n\n", "\tThe cardinal red cross painted upon his chest carries the weight of the sins of the world. The man cautiously opens the door of the burnt-orange clay domicile and slips inside. His eyes adjust to the surrounding darkness of the living room and shapes begin to materialize. Gingerly, the man steps through the foyer, past the kitchen, and into the hallway. \n\n\tA rasping snore oozes out from behind the first door of the hallway. The man opens the door slowly, landing it gently onto the door stop. The source of the snoring lays neutral on a sleeping pad in the left corner of the room. The man glides over to the sleeping man and puts his knife into his throat. The cross smolders.\n\n\tThe man exits the room and approaches another door down the hall, the holy texts wrapped around his forearms sticky with blood. He opens the door and lets the room swallow him in.\n\n\tAn open window in the casts a pearly glow across the middle of the room, illuminating the bed and the crib that occupy the room. The man crouches over to the bed and punctures the throats of the occupants, then makes his way to the crib and does the same.\n\n\tThe man withdraws himself from the room, retreats back to the foyer to bear himself upon the loveseat, and cleans the skin and blood from his dagger as he waits for sunrise.\n\n\tWith the first glimpses of sunlight from the window, the man exits the house and walks towards the dirt street. Other men with red crosses on their chests exit the adjacent houses to join the man, their text wrapped wrists matte crimson with dried gore. They make their way northeast, with more men exiting the doors of the town and walking towards the marching congregation.", "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/catholicism] [Pope Francis declares a holy war on ISIL, calling for a Tenth Crusade. • \\/r\\/WritingPrompts](https://np.reddit.com/r/Catholicism/comments/4v09hf/pope_francis_declares_a_holy_war_on_isil_calling/)\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)", "The scorched remains of the desert stretch out before me, sand glassy from the relentless attention of high-yield explosives. Each breath pulls in the acrid scent of charred blood and lingering smoke, undaunted by the faded cloth I have secured over my nose and mouth. Consecrated by fire and baptized in blood, the Holy Army marches to war. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n*\n\n&nbsp;\n\n14 months have passed since the 266th Pope called for the Tenth Holy Crusade. The move stunned the nations of Earth. He was the liberal Pope, they cried, a more gentle and simple shepherd to a flock fast-dwindling and in need of guidance. He eschewed the frills and finery of his papal lineage, choosing to wear simple robes of white and wash the feet of the poor. But barbaric enemies call for stronger measures, and it was on the eve of yet another terrible attack that Francis showed his strength.\n\nHis clarion call went out to all the Christians on Earth, resonating even with those outside of the Roman Catholic denomination. Emboldened by his calls for “holy retribution” we sought to become His weapon of vengeance. Hundreds of thousands of my brethren poured into the Holy Land, overwhelming the feeble protests of “sovereign” nations the world over. Borders buckled and governments trembled as the faithful went to war. \n\nThose who could not fight poured funds and resources into the Holy Army’s coffers, and we all took up the glorious new Battle Hymn of a world forged with fire and steel in the name of Our Father. \n\nThis miraculous gathering spurred some unintended consequences, however. It galvanized our enemy and brought his strength out from the shadows. Rallying under their false Caliphate, their numbers grew rapidly, and their army cast an ever-bigger shadow upon the Kingdom of Heaven. This was the Enemy playing his hand, matching strength to strength, the battle he had been lusting after since prophecy foretold its coming. The battle we so willingly gave him, on the doorstep of the Blessed Land. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt’s remarkable how the purest of causes and the sternest of resolves melt away in the face of molten lead and shrapnel. Men moan, calling for mothers, lovers, a God whose side they wish to join. Bullets tear into the ground around them, and mortars cough out steady, screaming death. A low-yield nuclear warhead lights up the horizon—a hundred miles away but close enough to send an icy dagger of fear into my heart. Another village erased by a retreating army, another town deemed an acceptable loss in the name of a greater cause. They’ll be handing out radiation meds in camp tonight. \n\nNow the Horde stretches across the horizon, banners unfurled and weapons live. Makeshift minarets throughout their lines send out the Namaz, and like a shuddering wave their ranks bend for prayer. Just hours ago we lined up for mass, rows of chaplains and priests delivering blessings and benedictions over, and over, and over. Similar rituals, similar convictions, but only one can win the day. \n\nI check my rifle, worn and battle-tested, smiling grimly as the mechanism moves smoothly under my callused hands. Today will be a pivotal conflict, a chance for glory in the name of God, for victory on the wings of seraphs and angels. Men will die by the thousands, for bullets do not discriminate, and bombs do not offer pardon. I move into position, shoulder to shoulder with my brothers, and believe that I am prepared to die. The marching call goes out, followed by the first keening notes of the Battle Hymn, tentative to begin but then picked up by hundreds of thousands of throats suddenly dry and pinched with fear. We lurch forward and approach the maw of Hell. It matters not who wins the day, nor even who triumphs in the Tenth Crusade; our Pope can no longer wear white. \n", "\"The Tenth Crusade\" he was never big into history, he was more focused on Rugby and Football but, he was sure there was only 3 or 4 crusades, most people called the military take over the Middle East from dictators and terrorists a crusade. Either way, he was a soldier for the best army in the world, the one with the best skill, training and negotiation... the Irish army. He was not in the general purpose army. He was in the Elite Corps. The Elite Corps were a group of highly trained soldiers split into 20 different sub-corps. The first 10 were, in no particular order , the Fighting Force Corp, they were general purpose soldiers, Marksman/Assassination Corps were the Corps he had help create and was currently deployed in the field under, The third highest corp was the Undercover Espionage, Intelligence and Sabotage corp was and- Suddenly the Ground in front of him flew up into the air \"SHIT THEY SPOTTED US\" Were the last words of my second in command before his body jerked and stopped moving. I was debating whether to run or stay motionless when I saw the glint of the enemy snipers sight. Only one? this would be easy, I looked through sight and spotted the gillie suits of 10 other snipers. It was time to run. I quickly folded up my D-56 High Velocity Rifle before rolling down the hill. what I had not known was that they only spotted my second in command, not me or the 3 other snipers up there sent to pick off the artillery with explosive rounds, so when they spotted a \"pile of leaves\" moving away they, first, tried to shoot the \"pile of leaves\" then they spotted some shrubbery around the place and put 2 and 2 together 10 seconds later I heard 3 shots and 3 screams.\n\n\n\n\n\nNote: Not finished need to go to an event, will finish later in an edit. Enjoy what I have already written though", "Francis descended a long, spiral staircase from his apartments at the north end of the Domus Sanctae Marthae. He approached a doorway leading into a small kitchen. Two guards stood on either side and two more would be waiting for him as soon as he crossed the threshold. I wonder how many of the Swiss soldiers were in the city these days?* he thought. Security had been increased considerably since Francis had given his fateful address. Maybe I should send some of the Swiss guard to Syria. Their garish outfits might scare the Muslims, if nothing else. The corners of his mouth drew up into a thin smile, which quickly disappeared as he walked into the kitchen. \n\nJoseph Cardinal Roberts sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in hand and trace remnants of a biscuit sprinkled on his large stomach. His all black cassock and considerable heft made for an intimidating presence. A good characteristic to have in a war cardinal. \n\n“I assume you have updates,\" said Francis. \n\n“The Wahhabis have taken Baghdad. And there’s been another flare-up in Jakarta,\" the cardinal answered. Three years into the conflict and so little to show for it. \n\nFrancis had come to the papacy full of hope and with a promise of peace and charity. But after years of turmoil, bombings, shootings, refugees, and the western world on the brink of economic and societal collapse, the Pope could see no other way. Three years ago, Francis had stood on the steps of St. Peter's addressing a crowd of thousands. It was time for a coordinated and Christian-led campaign against the Islamic State he had proclaimed. \n\nWestern countries, ruled over by newly elected demagogues who preached Christian values alongside xenophobia, misogyny, and outright racism were quick to answer the Pope's call. And, at first, the coordinated might of the western world seemed to be having an effect. Friendly forces were taking control of more and more territory and ISIL seemed to be on the brink. \n\nBut each battle won only seemed to infuriate the Islamic world more and more. Each drone strike seemed to unify disparate groups against a common foe. Every death lead to wellsprings of resentment, unrest, crackdowns, more resentment and eventual open and armed conflict. Muslim communities across the world, even in so-called moderate countries, agitated against this modern crusade. \n\nCardinal Roberts took a sip from his cup and continued, \"My meeting with Patriarch Kirill was promising. He is certain that Russia will expand its operations in Iraq.\" \n\n\"And Jerusalem?\" \n\n\"We hold it for now. Though the Americans seem more interested in transporting their remaining Jews to Israel than pushing forward into Jordan.\" \n\n\"Damned fundamentalists.\" Francis looked down at his hands. He would not fare well if the Americans were successful in bringing about Judgment Day. Another wry smile crossed his face. \n\nAfter a moment Francis spoke again, \"Where are we with our efforts to incite the Uyghurs?\" \n\n\"Progress is slow. We have to be careful. The Chinese are already suspicious and they firmly want to remain on the sidelines.\" The Cardinal put down his cup and brushed some of the crumbs off of his stomach. \"Are we sure we want to get another group of people involved?\" \n\n\"One way or another they'll be drawn into this,\" Francis said. No one could live untouched. The world was spiraling out of control. This truly was a clash of civilizations. ", "This decade, marks the end for the Pope.\n\nI wish we could say his holiness acted alone in this great atrocity we are about to commit, but he has served for what he has been appointed for. To be the voice of God.\n\nEach of us toiled away in the dark recesses of the world, we knew that the instrument needed could not be seen. But, we all knew that the pure nature of God had been contained in its atoms. We store these secrets out in the waters, deep in them. We hoped not for those days, we knew how much we wept when the world informed us they had forged something like our own and aimed it at all our children in the world. We could not depend on the kindness of monsters. We needed to act swifter than a thief in the night.\n\nEach of us felt it one day, we felt Francis praying. We heard him cry from that tower. He did not know of our preparation, he was innocent. \n\nHe had watched for many years as the innocent were led to slaughter. No, not just this ISIS, but the world as it fell away. He felt the pains as if he was in labor. He knew greater threats were rising like the morning star before the sun.\n\nOne night, we were so desperate to comfort our Francis, we broke down his door, and there before us he ripped out his tongue, but as he did he uttered through gnashing of his teeth, \"From the sea ....that torturous beast will rise against all my children... why my children, why forsake me\"\n\nOur voice had been lost, our appointed had been muted. He was forever catatonic and his image mired by the sciences. We saw our books burning on those screens, we had been plagued by misguided pride in the past allowing molesters and swindlers into our most hallowed temples. We took for granted the faith in our God. And, now we had no one on that throne.\n\nOr, did we. \n\n\"With papal authority, I hereby claim all land on this planet as sovereign to our Lord, I hereby proclaim myself Victorious. He who shall bring about the Lion of Judea! Woe as my scepter descends on the East like the sun! The blasphemers of Christ & the Creator Spiritus will not exist in these lands! Veni, veni, veni!\"\n\nI'm sure any man could see, well if he was aware like we were aware, as those bays on submarines dotted across the planet opened in unison. Red colored phones rung on the most important desks of all those faithful warning them that the hour was here. \n\nWe sat in our fortified temples, prepared after decades of skepticism. But, now we have never felt so true to our belief when we saw over a billion fall to their knees in awe as the horizon was filled with the flashes of a thousand neon lights.\n\n \n\n", "The Pope's words froze the audience to a stillness as sure as stone, to which the echoes of the Pope's words ricocheted off of till they dissipated into the air burning the atmosphere. The people hung on their chairs like a coat about to fall off its hook. Words, screams, shrills, moans of ecstasy, curses, blasphemies, praises and shouts for joy were engraved on their throats like fine Times New Roman font. It was as if they were posing for a painting their stillness was so great.\n\nPope Francis opened his mouth to speak once again and the audience exhaled, turning back to flesh.\n\nThe holy Pontiff then clarified \"After we defeat Global Warming, of course.\"\n", "28th July 2019.\n\n\"It is dire, your Holiness. They will reach Palermo tonight or tomorrow morning. We are running out of time.\"\n\n\"We must wait, my child. We must wait for God, for Jesus to show us the way.\"\n\n\"If Palermo falls, we will lose Sicily. If we lose Sicily, we lose the South and then we have to hope the Montecristo Line holds. I place my faith in you, Holy Father, I trust you to place your faith in good Christian men, soldiers who will defend this land if you but ask them to.\"\n\n\"My son. Do not confuse the love I have for my people with a willingness to trust them. They do not all understand the past, the legacy of those misguided men whose footsteps I follow today. You would put guns and knives in the hands of untrained, frightened people and tell them to kill in the name of God? That is preciseley what we are fighting against! No, Cardinal, I will trust in God that his love will save us from an unholy war. You have my answer. Prepare our defences as best you can, but the Army will command this action, not I, not the Church. Go, go now.\"\n\nCardinal Monsignore left ashamed and embarrased. He loved Francis for his honesty and incorruptible integrity, but he hated him equally for his naivety and obseqious piety. All men who worshipped Christ and God were pious, but Francis used it as a weapon, to fight against men who would ask his permission to shed blood to defend their religion and way of life. The truth was, that Monsignore would act on his own, he would defy Francis if it came to it. If Palermo was attacked, he would force Francis to declare a Crusade and ignite the passions of all Christians in Europe to defend what they held dear. \n\nThe past years had been truly devastating, all of Europes major cities had suffered attacks. Eminent people had been kidnapped, murdered and tortured live on the internet. ISIS had taken great swathes of Turkey, Cyprus and Egypt aswell as Iraq, Afghanistan and parts of Pakistan. Syria had fallen just a few months earlier, and now ISIS had access to a freshwater port and had captured a small fleet of Russian warships after a 3 day pitched battle. The bombing campaign against ISIS was now having little effect, each airstrike was effective but the sheer momentum and recruitment coupled with increasing resources was driving ISIS forward faster than it could be driven back. \n\nWith the Russian fleet captured, they could land troops in Italy/France/Spain/Greece in the next few months, but they had already been spotted sending scout craft to Sicily as a means to take Italy and Rome to kill his Holiness. Monsignore had connections within the Army, and Pope Francis knew it. He knew most of the top brass and commanded significant influence among the top generals who commanded the impending defence of Italy. He would send a message to his contact in Sicily to execute the Order of St Peter, to create terror among the locals and plant a false flag operation on Italian soil. If Francis didnt sign the Commandment then, he never would and he would be deposed. A Defender of the Faith would be appointed, Fidei Defensor, and that man would be Cardinal Monsignore. \n\n\"This is Monsignore. Execute the Order of St Peter.\"\n\n\"Consider it done\"\n\nThe cellphone clicked and the line went dead. \n\n\n30th July 2019 - 07:15am\n\n\"Wake his Holiness. It is an emergency\"\n\nThe door to the apartment burst open and Francis emerged already dressed.\n\n\"There is no need to wake me, Graziano. Please, now, tell me what is the matter.\"\n\n\"ISIS have struck, they have landed on Sicily, at Syracuse and have docked 3 large Russian Warships. Admiral Tarasco is dead, beheaded. The beach is littered with bodies, your Holiness. I would weep but my tears have run dry, my sorrow knows no comfort. What can we do?\"\n\nFrancis expression turned from mild apprehension to sheer dread. His eyes looked hollow and his usual levity had been stripped away like the peeling walls of the ancient apartments he slept in. He knew that it had begun and if he did nothing, then it was likely that the Church would fall and Europe would be thrown into a war which it was likely to cost billions of lives. He processed the chain of events in his head which frightened him the most; ISIS gain a foothold in Italy and attack Rome, unable to field enough troops and armour, the army has to resort to assistance from NATO allies who deploy reinforcements, leaving their own shores vulnerable. ISIS takes advantage and launches simultaneous attacks, which leads to the unthinkable decision to deploy tactical nuclear weapons to halt their advance.\n\nIt simply could not come to that eventuality. These people, although he loved them in his heart of hearts, in his Christian bosom, would stop at nothing to burn down the Church of the people and kill him, publically and barbarically. His hand had been forced.\n\n\"Graziano. Calm yourself, do not weep for those who go to God. They are not suffering, so my son, if you have no more tears, do not cry. Please, contact the international press officer, I wish to speak to the people from the Basilica. Go..now.\"\n\nGraziano practically ran down the hallway and through the door at the end of the Papal Apartments. Francis steeled himself and built up his resolve, he would need it he told himself.\n\nLater that afternoon, Pope Francis addresses the masses in the Basilica and declares it the holy duty of all Christians, not just Catholics, to defend the faith. He emplores the heads of state from Catholic nations to join in the fight against this new wave of terror and declares the 10th crusade. \n\n", "Document 9I1T7 \n\n\nType: Transcript\n\nSecurity classification: Low\n\nIsis outpost, recorded conversation in the wake of Pope Francis' declaration of war.\n\nUnknown 1: So, should we be worried?\n\nUnknown 2: What, that infidels' declaration of war? No! Do you know how many Crusades there have been? Seven, maybe nine depending on how you count them. Guess how many actually stole the holy land away from us? One. After the first Crusade they crashed and burned every time they came back. And anyways, that weak Vatican has no power anymore. Whose going to go fight for them? None of the countries will send more forces because an old man in stupid hat said so.\n\nUnknown 1: Your right! What are they going to be able to do? Send an army of civilians after us? \n\nUnknown 2:... You know...That is how they won the First Crusade...\n\nUnknown 1:... Seriously... You just had to ruin my day didn't you...", "This is pretty new to me and I'm usually a lurker, so please, tell me how you like it. I appreciate feedback.\n\n\n\n\nThe darkness seemed to resonate from the land. Every where. There was no hope left. Black, charred houses and buildings were all that was left of the once amazing cities of the world. I remember where I was when the bomb dropped. I remember the gun I was holding, the names of the men behind me, and I remember that the last mortar shell was timed almost perfectly with the bomb. First one. On the horizon. It was surreal. The Cristian's panicked when they realized what had just exploded. The mortars stopped exploding, the guns stopped firing, the tanks stopped rumbling. We were frozen. I remember the man that brought us back to our senses, by spraying a barrage of projectiles, and the machines roared back to life, spitting fire at each other. In the end, the ISIL base we were assaulting was completely destroyed. But after it fell, we weren't picked up, on account of Jerusalem being not there. That was our base of operations, and we were glad we weren't there when it stopped being there.\n\nNobody could save us from ourselves. Morale grew thin, as our food supply's dwindled, and the commander found it hard to keep a drafted militia in order. We were just kids, back then. Some of us were as young as 16. And we all had guns. All of us. I escaped before I was killed. It was a free for all at that point. I couldn't stay. I took as much food, ammo, and water as I could and I ran.\n\nThe smoldering wreckage of Jerusalem was nothing compared to the anarchy of the suburbs. I came looking for help, and safety, and it didn't exist anymore. I eventually found a US base. It had a ghost crew, but it was operational. I was flown home, after months of waiting, to find the state of affairs terrifying. President Ivanka had been overthrown in a military coup, and martial law had been imposed. The east cost was nuked to shit, and the west was in almost as sorry a state. The commercial centers, like LA, and San Francisco, had fighters patrolling, always overhead, as a last resort for ICBMs. The damage could be minimized if detonation happen while still in the air. Or so we thought. A wave of nukes, the biggest volley ever launched, came for California. The origin was the New Socialist People's Republic of China. Twats. They targeted dense urban environments, and food production and shipping areas. Sacramento, San Francisco, and a few other, smaller towns were saved.\n\nThat was all years ago. Before the land was covered in darkness. There may be no more hope. Even at the equator, temperatures are sub zero. I hate my new life. But it was either this, or the ground.", "\"I cannot tell precisely how History will judge this act\" the Pope thought to himself standing out on his private Veranda, \"But it will not be kind\" the chill of the winter Vatican air forcing his holiness back indoors much sooner than he intended. \nClosing the double doors behind him, he slowly made his way to the desk where the order to take the war ISL had brought to his doorstep to theirs awaited. \n\"Do I have the right?\" He pondered while reaching out for his pen, \"They haven't the right\" he added, pausing briefly before picking up the pen and gently dunking its tip into the inkwell. \nThe man known as Gods representative on earth couldn't tell what to do, he knew in his heart that the days of violent Christianity were centuries past, after wiping so many faiths off the face of the earth they had finally learned to coexist with and perhaps even appreciate the beliefs of other theistics. Yet the young and impetuous successor to this religion has fermented sentiment that is a direct and immediate threat to his God. \n\"They would turn the God we all worship into a perversion of the love he represents\". \nTears welled in his eyes and he cradled his face in his hands, hoping not to stain the document. \nWithout looking down the Pope knew where his thoughts had taken him, led by conviction to the only possible outcome; A declaration of war against ISL had been signed. \nThe 2016 Crusade has begun. \n\"God help us all\"\n\n\nEdit: Hope you guys like it, it's the first thing I've written since 2010.", "We stand prepared for battle, the air infused with violent tension as we focus on the Pope's words. The Vatican City is filled to the brim with freedom fighters from across the globe. Men and women alike display their military fatigues, each one with a Vatican flag embroidered on the left side of their chest. I assumed most of us would be Catholic but the declaration of war on ISIL had started a grand exodus of sympathizers for our cause. Buddhists, Anglo-Saxon Christians, Jews, converted Muslims and many more stood side by side one another, anxiously awaiting the historical war.\n\nAs Pope Francis speaks, he does so with enraged precision, his speech from the depths of his heart. The goosebumps spread across my body as my heart thumps with adrenaline. There was no teleprompter and he had no protection around him. He did not care about dying; he had made peace with that months ago. The atrocities of ISIL had provoked the even keel Francis into a blood lusting pulpit master. His words lay to death his sentiments of the past. There was nothing left inside him but revenge. \n\nWe are not here to spread ideology or to convert. We are here to condemn, to lay waste, and to seek genocide. As the Pope descended into a soft whisper, he ended his speech with Uccidili tutti. Kill them all. Kill them all is the last phrase he wanted us to remember as we marched into battle. As the crowd roars, begging for war, the chants fill the whole city. \"Uccidili tutti! Uccidili tutti! Uccidili tutti!\". We slap the Vatican flag on our chest, salute the Pope and head for the airbase.\n\nIt was time for the crusade.\n\n\n\n", "Francis held his arms up in silent praise much the same way he had as a young priest some 45 years ago. Although now he led not a humble parish, but the entirety of his faith in prayer. He stood at a makeshift altair in a sparce and sandy area. The monotonous landscape only broken by the occasional rock or desert weed and the imposing mountain range on the horizon. Knelt before his holiness was a sea of radiant white figures organised neatly in square formations. Eventually the pope lowered his hands and approached the pulpit. It was time for his sermon. \"We faithful gather here from all over the globe. Rich and poor, young and old. Seperated by thousands of kilometres and alienated by a hundred different tongues.\" His voice boomed across the impossibly huge congregation. \"Until now. For by the power of the holy spirit god has seen fit to unite us as a people!\" A cheer errupted in a langauge unknown to all but the devout. \"The heretics have plagued gods chosen people for too long. For too long they have inflicted untold suffering. For too long they have flaunted their decadant belief in the false prophet!\" Another cheer ripped through the crowd. \"And now it is our divine task to erradicate the heathens before us\" the roar of the army is deafening. \"Onward brothers and sisters! Let us claim victory in the lords name!\" The sea of people ,in perfect unision, rose and began to march forward. Each man or woman was dressed in white surcoat with a red cross emblazoned on it and all their extremities covered in chainmail. While it may seem like ancient and ineffective armour each link was made of carbon nanofibre while the cout provided an aditional layer of kevlar. Although the greatest protection was afforded by the blessing upon each suit. Each of them carried a lance a bit taller than themselves. Although a formidable melee weapon, the spear tip hid a 20 millimetre explosive round and 24 more behind it. The sword on the hip held no secret technology, it was the same weapon of war used in the first crusade, and just as deadly. Every aspect of the vatican's forces was designed to imvoke the courage and heroism of the ancient knights. As well as their unyielding brutallity. As the force marched, their footfalls creating a deafening cacphony of sound, a small village came into view its squat buildings delapidated but standing. The enemies first stronghold. A thousand Beared men knelt against sandbags and the inside of buildings in preperation. Each man was fanaticslly devoted to the cause. Although the news of the holy spirits return had certainly been a dent in morale. As soon as the christan army was in range bullets started to fly around them. deflecting off their armour. The odd tank shell or missle would score a hit killing one or two knights but the ranks filled in unphased by the lose of life. When they were within 200 metres of the front line francis steeled himself. And yelled with a voice like the trumphets of judgment day. \"Charge!\" The knights sprinted forward, raining fire down on the isis village decimating them. tongues of fire apeared over the holy knights filling them with ferocious zeal. As they reached the village men fled in every direction the shinging figures of divine retribution gave chase and every last man was put to the sword in a bloodbath of epic porpotions. The muslims were slain to the last man and the crusade, was underway", "Francis stood, his knees still strained from the kneel he took in solemn worship for the last 5 hours. He looked up to the crucifix he prayed before and almost swore the same tears that stained his cheeks flowed from the eyes of the golden Lord before him. He always hated the adornment that surrounded him in the Vatican. Such wealth housed in so small a place, when the Lord's chosen were dying in the streets of the cities the Lord once walked. He dragged his weary feet and brought himself past the guards, who dutifully followed him. In years past the Swiss Guard was purely ceremonial, at least from where he stood. He knew better, armed with weapons that bred violence, they were hidden, but always around. Watching to make sure no harm would befall him, the Holy See. But a month since the so called \"Islamic State\" issued a declaration of war, a Jihad, with him at the head of their kill list; the Swiss Guard had been more present.\n\nHe looked up to the walls of the city he called home, this City within a City, and where he would once see priests and tourists, he now saw emptiness save for the snipers and the SAM installations. It bothered him that so much trouble had been put to protecting him when he advocated for peace for so long. He had not held a sermon on this topic, or any other topic for that matter, since the Jihad was called. He longed to call the faithful of the world and tell them that he was not afraid of violent men, with their violent ways. But the sermons stopped nonetheless. The cardinals saw to that.\n\nHe reached his chambers, and most of his contingent of bodyguards fell behind and took positions around the corners of the room, a few stood in attention behind the doorway, guns held at the ready, fingers a hair's breadth from the trigger. He sighs at the insanity of it all, and walked towards the nightstand he kept beside his unnassuming bed. Drawing out the worn Bible he kept, he held the brown cracking leather he knew since childhood for a moment. He was tired, and book felt heavier under the weight of his fatigue, but knew that sleeping would only bring the pain of seeing children branded with the \"ن\", the Arabic symbol for \"N\" on their seared onto their foreheads. He knew that sleep would only bring about the anger he felt when their heads feel lifeless from their body as the swords that masked terrorists used sliced away at their necks effortlessly. It was an anger he tried to hide, that he tried to tuck away and bury into his heart.\n\nHe opened the book he held, and his fingers slipped effortlessly into the back of the volume, to the book of Revelations. \n\n\"Come!\" he read \"and a White horse came with its crowned rider, a bow held, was given a crown\", \"Come!\" it continued, \"And another horse, fiery and red, its rider a sword in hand.\" Come!\" it said, \"And another steed, black, and it's rider the scales held high\", \"Come!\" the words screaming at him now, \"and the final rider, aloft a deathly pale nag, holding nothing but chains that bound Hades that tread behind him\"\n\n\"And the Martyrs cried out 'How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?' \" He stopped reading there. Francis slowly closed the book and as the pages touched he heard a --CLICK-- from the book. \n\nSuddenly fire raged from his fingers, as the brown leather cracked and boiled away, everything but the book itself went dark as his eyes, for a half second, shifted from the intensity of the explosion. The world distorted away from him, and he saw the world as a sphere around him that grew away quicker than he could realize what was happening.\n\nThe next thing he knew, he was on the floor, looking up at the sky, the yellow sun above, while the destruction of his quarters framed the blue with rubble, broken glass and soot. The sky flooded with crimson as the sun itself shielded itself in red and he saw the martyred children, those marked with the \"N\" for believing in the Nazarene, as they looked up to the bright red light that hovered above. Their mouths all moved in unison as tears from their eyes fell as blood. “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?”\n\n\"NOW\" a Voice boomed from the sun.\n\nHis chest convulsed, as electricity ran itself through his heart. One of his guards held the Defibrillator he knew they kept on standby. Three stood around him, fingers on the trigger, as they yelled for help, their voices drowned by the ever increasing echo of Italian sirens wailed. They were covered in dust, soot, and the smell of fire, but they looked unharmed. Francis tries to stand up, but a hand on his chest lets him know he was being ordered to stay still. \"It's a miracle, Holy Father, we are alive.\"\n\n\"No, son...\" Francis replied, as the words of the martyrs replayed in his head. \"We are merely being called to War.\"\n\n", "I prepped my troops. They were ready, I was ready. In a re-enactment of our ancestors, we wore knight's armor and were armed with swords of days of old. Thousands of us, spread across the land. I raised my sword and led the charge. We were charging toward Raqqa, ISIS' self proclaimed capital. Machine guns went off all around us. I threw my sword at an ISIS member, and reached down my leg for my two shotguns. Firing one after the other I shot down more than twenty people. When I went out of ammo, I prayed to the virgin Mary that I had packed more guns. Reaching out of my pack was my custom made sniper rifle with an ACOG scope in the shape of a cross. \n\nClimbing up a ladder, I drew the cross over my chest and hunkered down. I fired shot after shot, bullet after bullet to protect my oncoming crusaders. We would defeat ISIS in the name of God. We destroyed all of their mortars. ISIS fell back. They spotted me, bullets whizzed past me, I shot at those shooting at me, I knew what I was doing was holy. It was the tenth crusade. \n\nAll of a sudden, a bullet hit me in the head and I floated up, I saw myself leave my body. Floating up, memories of my life ran through my head. Eventually I landed a top a cloud, and saw God, oh my was he beautiful. He cried. He was crying. I asked in a whisper, \"God, why are you crying?\"\n\n\"Because my son, people are killing in my name, they are killing in my name.\" God replied, tears streaming down his face. I cried too. I looked down and saw my last moments. I tried to reach out, but I couldn't. \"My son, you know where you must go, you have killed, you have killed in my name.\"\n\nI did know where I had to go. As I floated downwards. I knew I had earned this, but, children were coming for ISIS. And ISIS could not kill the second crusade of children.", "They descended on the village. From his birds-eye view in the chopper, the 32nd Division of Divinity looked like a writhing mass of ants, peaking the top of the hill and flooding down the other side. The first shot rang out, followed by the chatter of automatic gunfire. The ants began to fall, the front line melting and reforming as the wave of soldiers moved forward. The radio chattered in Francis' ear.\n\n...estimate 50,000 casualties at current closing rate...push 'em faster...\n\nFor 20 minutes, the helicopter hovered over the scene, until every last soldier had moved out of the area and into the village. Then it landed atop the hill. Francis climbed out. He looked weary and haggard but his determination couldn't be denied. His generals refused to let him partake in the initial charge, yet they couldn't keep Francis entirely out of the battle. \n\nHe walked down the hillside. Screams of agony filled his ears. Medics rushed about, trying to save those who still had a chance. The ground was slick with blood and his white slippers were soon soaked in red. As he walked past the dying men and women, he murmured prayers. His expression was calm, belying his inner turmoil. What have I done? he thought. How much misery have I caused? Is this the way, Lord? But there was no answer from above. Francis trudged forward. Stray gunfire could still be heard, a single shot here, machine gun chatter there. Still, Francis trudged forward. At the foot of the hill, he was met by General Smith.\n\n\"Holiness, I respectfully ask again that you remain a safe distance until the battle is over. We may not even be able to secure this...\" \n\nFrancis interrupted him. \"Come with me, General. Let us survey the battlefield.\"\n\nSmith gave a resigned nod. Francis led the way, marching towards the sound of gunfire. The streets were littered with his brave warriors, dead and dying. They rounded a corner and found themselves face to face with the enemy. In his hands was an AK-47, barrel still smoking. Francis never slowed his pace. His military training kicked in, training that he had helped devise. Instinctively, he threw his arms wide open and smiled.\n\n\"Jesus loves you. I love you. Jesus forgives you. I forgive you.\" A moment later, Smith's voice chimed in. The pair moved steadily forwards. \"Jesus loves you. I love you. Jesus forgives you. I forgive you.\" \n\nThe AK-47 snapped upwards as the soldier rested it against his shoulder and took aim. His eyes were those of a tortured soul, a man who had seen horrific things.\n\n\"Please,\" he begged, \"please stop! Do not come any closer! I've killed so many today. Dozens, maybe even hundreds. Women, children, old men...how could you send so many to die?\" The man was carefully stepping backwards as Francis moved forwards.\n\n\"We will not fight you,\" said Francis. \"But we will not surrender. Put down your gun. Jesus loves you. I love you. Jesus forg...\"\n\n \"Please! I do not want to kill you!\" the man interrupted, but the barrel of the gun was already lower, pointing at the ground now, and tears streamed down his face. He had stopped moving, standing in place, waiting for the inevitable.\n\n\"Then embrace us.\" Francis and Smith closed the distance with a few steps, holding their arms wide open. The rifle slowly slid from the man's grasp, clattering to the ground. Francis and Smith pulled the man closer, and the three men clung to each other, sobbing in relief and horror and joy, as men of war so often do. It was a costly way to wage a holy war, but it was the only way a true Christian could wage war and call it \"holy\". \n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 14, 104, 146 ]	[ "1469629028", "1469637242", "1469637572", "1469638846", "1469642557", "1469643135", "1469644163", "1469655904", "1469658225", "1469642518", "1469643606", "1469643954", "1469654742", "1469641691", "1469639592", "1469638201", "1469635678", "1469633986", "1469637038", "1469629849", "1469636432" ]
	[WP] Shuffle your music and write a story with the beginning line being the first song title and the last line being the second shuffled song.	8	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "The Game was the most wanted one, definitely. Sadly enough, it came out in the summer I wanted to work at GamerStop to get some money, as I soon finished school and needed a leg to stand on.\n\nAs the day came the game was released, everyone at the store took precaution to either be sick, or terribly, terribly busy. And like this, I was the poor one standing behind the counter where hundreds of people where waiting, ready to throw their money at me. Shoving and pushing was relatively normal when a big new game came out, but these circumstances were unknown to me. Gamers who came to late, and by that I mean not camping in front of the store, decided to simply take a ladder to crawl over the raving masses to the shelves. The lucky ones already having a copy in their hands were pressed against the counter until they could hardly breathe anymore.\n\nMe being nothing more than a naive halftime worker, I completely forgot that it would be a good idea to get security to come the store as fast as possible to prevent any major injuries. But even that wouldn't have helped the few poor ones already being squished by walking bags of Doritos and Mountain Dew.\n\nI tried my best, I swear, but what could I have done? The servers of Stream where down and nobody could purchase the game online, and only the few lucky ones who logged in first would get that sweet mount. So naturally, everyone stormed into GamerStops anywhere, and mine had to be located in the middle of the city, the achorpoint for every shopper.\n\nAnd just like this, I experienced what never has happend before. People being stepped on, pushed to the ground, tackled aside, suffocated between rolls of fat. And I'm sure that there were some people standing outside the store with knives to rob the unlucky ones.\nIt was, indeed, a Great Mass Of Death.\n\n-----\n\nI am not natively english, therefore, please excuse me for mistakes and weird sentences.\n\nSongs:\n\"The Game\" by Dragonforce, and\n\"Great Mass Of Death\" by Septicflesh.\n", "Addicted.\n\nHe hated referring to himself as that. However he also liked to tell himself that he could stop at any time, he just chose not to. He obviously did it because he liked the way it made him feel, not because he couldn’t live without it. That’s what he kept telling himself every morning when he woke up groggy and feeling like shit, even though he had the recommended 8 hours of “sleep”. He never felt good waking up. The haziness in his mind that should’ve receded as the day went on and he pounded back energy drinks instead stayed as a constant buzzing in his subconscious, whittling away at his self-control.\n\nLosing both his fulltime position at a prestigious accounting firm, and his mother to cancer in the past 6 months had him hitting his dealer up more often. Way more often then the once a week “maintenance” visits that he had been able to function with before.\n\nHe thought of Marissa, the only drug stronger than heroin. Lately she had begun to grow tired of coming home late at night from work to find him passed out on the recliner in his boxers; incoherent even when roused and hands floating as though he were trying to climb an imaginary ladder. Listening to her describe him in his drugged out state broke his heart, but she just didn’t understand. These pleas from her to get clean and reclaim control of his spiraling life caused fights. They never fought physically but he had still felt the equivalent punch in his gut every time he made her cry.\n\nAfter a few moments of struggling to get vertical, he hunched over on the couch, head heavy and hung low, pointy elbows digging into his thighs. His body throbbed, a deep-seated ache that was impossible to massage or stretch out. Trying to mentally block out the physical pain so he could lift himself off the couch, he had a moment of lucidity.\n\nOut of the corner of his eye he saw the framed picture of the two of them. Marissa must have moved it from the bedroom to the radiator next to the couch at some point during the night. Raising his head slightly to study the photo, he took note of how happy and healthy he had looked back when the photo had been taken a year ago. Marissa was beaming as she held onto his neck for dear life, his bulging forearm muscles rippling as he held her in his arms. She loved being carried and he had loved showing off. They hadn’t had much physical contact in the past few months, and looking down at his gaunt frame and tense, veiny body he could understand why. Seeing a leftover baggy of junk on the coffee table in his peripheral vision burned him with a rage he had not felt for awhile. He angrily swiped the baggie off the glass table where it skittered under the radiator and disappeared. He then slammed his fist down in frustration on the wood-covered edge, his sweaty palm leaving a blurry smudge on the surface.\n\nTrying to control his breathing and quell his shaking body, he picked up the phone and called his old buddy; a person who told him he would always be there when he wanted to get clean. As the phone rang once, twice, three times, he thought to himself as he looked at the framed picture of them on the radiator; him carrying her in his arms, smiling and carefree “I would do anything For Your Love”.\n\nSongs:\n\nJarell Perry - Addicted\n\nJosh Record - For Your Love (Dot Major Remix)\n", "Voodoo.\n\nAs a student of theology, I knew that I would some day have to study this religion firsthand. It's not that I never wanted to, just that the faith irked me in some fashion. I'm not even a superstitious individual, yet I still thought the practices and style of worship to be eerie.\n\nRegardless, my mission was to study all the faiths I could and compile all of my encounters into a novel. A definitive guide to world religions, of sorts, with interesting anecdotes to liven the reading up a bit. So far, I had recorded my interactions and interviews with archbishops of Catholicism in Europe, various priests of the plentiful variations of Christianity in the southern United States, rabbis in Israel, imans of Islam throughout the Middle East, Buddhists around Southeast Asia, et cetera, et cetera. I had tackled all the major faiths, and some of the less prominent of the major faiths, and now it was on to Voodoo.\n\nAs with all my studies, I would do my best to speak with people of varying perspectives within a religion. I began in New Orleans, as I had become familiar with the area thanks to my travels in which I learned about Baptism and other branches of Christianity. I spoke with a man who refered to himself as a Voodoo priest. He was an old Creole man who was very kind, which was much to my relief, and because of him, many of my prior assumptions of Voodoo --which often stemmed from mass hysteria and biased media such as the recent film White Zombie-- had been corrected. \n\nHe informed me that some Christian teachings had blended with the Voodoo of New Orleans, such as the invocations of Jesus and Jehovah. I had also learned of Voodoo herbalism, and the creation of Hoodoo Dolls, which were used as cure-alls. After spending a few days in New Orleans and speaking with the priest, I figured that I had compiled enough information on the New Orleans sect of Voodoo, so I journeyed southwards, to the Carribean. Before I had left, the old priest firmly instructed me to never interact with Bokors, or Witch Doctors. He told me that in some islands, they had practiced unspeakably horrific magic. Looking back, I should have given him the benefit of the doubt, for I took his words as the rambling of a fanatic.\n\nI have no good memories to recount of that jungle island to the southwest of Haiti. It rained to such an extent that whenever I attempted to write in my journal, the pages would promptly be soaked by the water pouring through the poorly constructed roof of the hovel I had been provided. After a certain point, I decided to simply do my recording by memory, and because of this decision, I can not recall much from the hazy period of time that was my stay on the island.\n\nI had asked around the small village I had been staying in about any practicioners of Voodoo. To my surprise, they revealed themselves to all be Christian. They had, however, informed me of a \"Voodoo Cult\", as they called it, residing in the nearby rainforest. I was hesitant, but decided to enter the rainforest bordering the village. \n\nWith me, I had taken the necessary materials for such a venture. A lantern, machete, several small arms, a swiss army knife, and some canteens of water. I had not taken my journal, as I could not write in the never-ending storm.\n\nEventually, I had reached a point where I could no longer see the village from whence I came. This left me slightly disheartened, but I carried on. It was day time, but the trees had blocked out the vast majority of sunlight, causing me to ponder how the strange and unfamiliar flora on the forest floor had flourished to such an extent. Finally, I had heard what I previously learned to be a focal point in the Voodoo faith: singing. \n\nBut this was no ordinary singing. This was not the spiritual and somewhat beautiful music of Louisiana. This singing didn't seem to follow any form of music I had heard prior. I had heard in New Orleans that new songs in Voodoo could only be created when it came about from a trance, or, more commonly, when it was heard in a dream. Whoever heard this song heard it in a night terror. This singing sent chills down my spine, as some of the voices didn't sound right. They didn't sound human.\n\nThis was the point where my memory seems to fail me. I found myself walking towards the strange song, against my reason and will. My vision began to fail me to some extent as well. How I wish my hearing had began to cease as well. The music grew even more hectic and unholy as I had approached what seemed to be a clearing. The singers with the normal voices, normal being a relative term here, were tribal people dancing around a thing that defied reason. It was a shining white obelisk, half the height of the tallest trees, with strange engravings etched all across its surface.\n\nThe brightness should have comforted me in the dark of the rainforest, but it had done the opposite. It was unnatural and not of this earth. The engravings had been written in an alphabet that I had encountered nowhere else. Upon asking about it later while in Haiti, not a soul could place what I was talking about. But these markings were just as otherworldly and horrifying as the terrible song and the monument they had been engraved on.\n\nI managed to break my trance-like transfiction on the obelisk for a moment, and I will forever be grateful that I did at that moment. To my right, a Bokor who fit the descriptions the priest in New Orleans had told me, was dancing towards me with what I can only assume to be a sacrificial blade. I regained control of my feet and began sprinting as fast and far away as I could. As I was running, I could not help but to look back to see if pursuers were after me. They were not. But what I saw was much more disturbing than anything I could have comprehended seeing.\n\nAll the normal sounding singers had stopped singing. The ones with human voices. But that other singing had not ceased. It continued to eminate from what must have been the obelisk. The singers and the Bokor were kneeling around the obelisk, mumbling pathetically. The obelisk shook. The ground shook. It all shook in time with the song. I saw the obelisk rise up a few feet, with a disgusting and nightmarish being of eldritch quality below it, breaking out from the ground.\n\nIt did not have any eyes. But I'm certain that it saw me. And it did not have any ears, but I'm sure that it heard me trembling.\n\nI looked away and I found myself shaking in fear, lying in my hovel at the village. I had left that village and island immediately, and I would never return to study Voodoo, out of fear whatever that hellish cult was. Out of fear of that white obelisk. Fear for the beast.\n\nAll I wish for now is to have the haunting memory erased from my mind. Blotted out from my subconscious. To have the white obelisk concealed forever. To paint it black.\n\nPaint it Black." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 5 ]	[ "1469636822", "1469647506", "1469723859", "1469642735" ]
	[WP] Children are completely immortal until they hit puberty.	4	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I envy other fathers. I truly do, they watch their children grow, smelling their sons heads when they're born, playing games and teaching them to avoid trouble from their mothers. none of them dealt with the sadness of a child dying, or being worried about whether they would be able to watch the light of their lives grow up. Children are bulletproof, they are unkillable, beautiful and young and fearless. No one knows why, everyone remembers the fearlessness of youth. Up until the boys voices begin to drop, and the girls begin to distance themselves from their mothers they cannot be killed, hardly able even to hurt themselves, but it was rare for a serious injury to happen and it was never permanent. Maybe an angel watches children, I honestly don't know.\n\nThe problem with being essentially immortal and impervious to danger is that no one knows when it ends exactly. Sure puberty is usually the cut-off, but that strikes at a different time for each and every child. The immortality brings a sort of arrogance with it, it never quite leaves. I remember when I was perhaps 8 years old, playing with friends as children do in the canyon just outside town. A small stream runs through the bottom of the canyon, though the dirt walls rose well above where the water reached, my father told me that when he was a boy the walls were not near that steep, I don't know what to make of that. I was with two boys, one my younger brother Darryl, the other Thom, a year or two older than me. We made a game of leaping from the old dead sycamore trunk that jutted about a meter out from the top of one of the banks, into the stream below. Sure it may seem dangerous to an adult but to us children, it was exhilarating. To leap from that height laughing at death and landing gracelessly in the cool water, solid on our feet in the river soil, rocks brushing off the skin beneath our feet. \n\nGreat sport back in that day. A few weeks later Thom landed the same as he always had, feet first, only this time his legs broke through his kneecaps and on through his chest. He was only around 10 then, no one had thought he was old enough, but apparently that was his time to go. These are old memories now, I had learned from Thom's accident and lost all of my youthful pride and arrogance a few moments after he had landed a few feet away from me.\n\nI turned my gaze from reverie to my son who lay on a bed at the far end of the small room. His fourth birthday had passed last week without party or his seeming to notice, though i had gotten us both party hats and given him some cake, he was only able to eat a mouthful or two but he had smiled, rare for him. I can't blame him, I'd blame me. I do blame me, or god or the devil or anyone. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the blinds, shining lazily on my poor son. His form twisted and bent, his breath agony, his heart constantly failing. His mother had died in childbirth leaving behind my beautiful boy. Whatever angel watched over children apparently did not take notice of them until they saw light for the first. My son would be in agony until puberty when death finally took him, it would be a blessing to him. I don't know why he hadn't healed, most injuries did, I suppose those had to be after birth as well. My eyes misted. I love my son but this immortality was too cruel. I hope he does not have to suffer long." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1469696109", "1469701575" ]
I'm imagining an MMO for this scenario as making the most sense, but go wild where your imagination takes you.	[WP] A man stalks a woman's character in an online game. One day, it seems someone entirely different replaces her - and nobody but him seems to notice.	18	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Eric arrived home from work and threw his bag on the couch. He grabbed a slice of pizza from the box he haphazardly threw into the fridge the night before and threw himself into his desk chair, the single nearby lamp illuminating his efficiency apartment against the storm that was growing outside. With a few key clicks he was logged into the MMO he was currently obsessed with, reviewing his main character he began to do his daily tasks that kept him at the top of his game. If he was truly being honest, however, he knew it wasn't the game that he was obsessed with. \n\nHe checked his friends list and scrolled until he found the name, a feeling of relief washed over him as his mouse hovered over \"SchrodsCat\". He double clicked and sent off a welcoming message to Caitlyn, a girl he had met on the game and had slowly gained her friendship. It had taken a few tries of course, he had a few accounts he couldn't go back to because he had messed up with her on them, but she didn't know that, no reason for her to learn about that.\n\nIt took a few minutes but he finally got a response back, \"Hey!!! Long day at work?\" He began to write his response, planning to tell her about the job she thought he had working as a software developer (in reality he was a supervisor in a call center) when something stopped him. It took him a minute to realize what it was but he finally caught it, Cait never used three exclamation points, she thought it made her sound too eager. He pressed on, maybe she was finally going to open up to him, he had been nothing but nice and supportive to her since they had met, well this incarnation of him at least.\n\n\"Yeah, there were a few people that committed incomplete code and it caused a lot of bugs, we had to undo each piece one by one and see where the incompatibilities were. How was your shift at Starbucks this morning?\" Caitlyn worked at her local Starbucks as a manager, which meant she did a little bit of everything that her employees did as well as keeping inventory and counting out their drawers. \n\n\"Awesome!!! A new company moved into the office building a few blocks down so we had a lot of new customers this morning, our tips went through the roof.\" There it was again, something was definitely different. He scrolled through his friends list and found another player who they grouped with often. Clicking on \"MaxMadwell\" he opened a new chat window, \"Hey Max, has Cat been acting weird today?\"\n\n\"Not that I've noticed Red, why what's up?\" Eric's current character, TedTheRed, had been shortened to Red by his usual dungeon group. \"Not sure, just thought she sounded a little odd, nothing to worry about I guess.\" \n\nThe evening continued as usual, he, Max, and Cat ran multiple dungeons together and improved their characters like they always did. As the hour got late Max logged off and it was just he and Cat again talking in their party chat. He still felt like something was odd, her rotations were just slightly off timing and she made a small mistake that she hadn't made in months. Max didn't seem to notice anything was amiss and logged off before Eric could bring it up with him again.\n\n\"Hey Cat, can you hop onto Discord for a second? I want to discuss our strategies for tomorrow night.\" They had done this hundreds of time at this point, there was nothing weird about the request but her reply was far from usual, \"I'm actually pretty tired Red, can we pick it up tomorrow? I'm worried we're going to be slammed tomorrow morning at 'Bucks.\" That sold it for him, she'd never refer to her job as \"'Bucks\" - one time one of her employees did it and she spent 15 minutes ranting to him about it.\n\n\"Oh okay, good night.\" He said, before emoting a wave and logging off of the server. He pulled open his desk drawer and found the post-it note he had scrawled a phone number on. She had given it to him about a month ago, told him to call her if he was going to be late one night. It was innocent, everyone who made friends online did the same thing, she had his and they both had Max's.\n\nPulling out his cellphone he told himself that she was going to answer and everything was going to be fine. He typed the number into his phone and hit call, the ringing sound slowly calming his nerves as he waited for her soft voice to answer the phone.\n\nAfter ten rings there was a click and then a gruff, deep, definitely male voice said, \"Hello?\" " ]	[ 1, 7 ]	[ "1469702879", "1469732157" ]
	[WP] Ten years ago a race of shapeshifting aliens attempted to infiltrate and take over the world. They were all rooted out and killed. All except you.	133	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I've seen the cruelty of men. I've survived the American civil war both world wars, encountered countless instances of slaughter and genocide. Seen entire species wiped off the face of the earth. \n Today is special for me, you see, today I become recalled and I will give my report to the council. After a few hundred years on a forsaken, dying planet it will be good to be home. My team had descended on earth around 1850 in your human years. We all blended in quite well I thought. We were horrified at what we saw. Humans are a quite cruel species, if we couldn't have taken your form it would quickly have ended our work on earth. As I understand I am the last remaining survivor of the task force, the human purge has been quite effective of ending my work. \n I don't think I'll miss it here, while humanity can be quite devout and loving I fear this is not the future you have left for your children, and by that, mine either. My species was only interested in you and your development it had taken us a long time to find you. But your persecution had sealed your fate. You have unknowingly chosen to hate instead of love, to kill instead of heal, to destroy instead of build. \n I wish you luck humans, but the fact is that, you are simply incompatible with life forms, when the world burns we will watch from the sky's; and we will not shed a tear, your race has worked for this and become exceedingly good and self annihilation ", "Surviving is hard. Surviving as the last of your race is much harder. Not that there's much pressure, as nobody else can put much pressure on me, but because of how isolating it can be. \n \nThat being said, I think the only reason I'm still alive is because of my isolation. I work in an office. I follow a strict schedule and prefer to keep things nice and orderly. I'm not a big fan of change or confrontation. I keep company mainly with my pet cat and enjoy watching my favorite TV show. \n \nI don't find anything wrong with this lifestyle. It may be lonely at times, but sometimes I forget I'm even different and live as normally as possible. That's just my life now. The life of Norman.", "Their planet had been dying anyway, he told himself as he laid in bed at night, crisp Egyptian cotton sheets caressing his now pale, human flesh. If they hadn't come to Earth, they'd of all died anyway he repeated once more inside his head.\n\nHe had no reason to feel guilty that he was still alive on this strange, new planet - not even just alive but alive and flourishing, despite likely being the last of his species.\n\nIt was survival of the fittest, the trickiest, the luckiest; the thoughts echoed around his skull, backing themselves up with new, human mottos and theories and logic he'd learned over the last decade. Darwin, he told himself, would have at least agreed with him.\n\nBut yet, some part of him still felt a little guilty. Maybe it was the death, or maybe it was the loss of everything he'd grown up knowing, or maybe it was just how good he felt on Earth.\n\n-\n\nThey'd come almost exactly ten years before, fleeing a planet that orbited a dying and unstable sun. Most of them had already died; the generations before them choosing not to multiply, suicide taking more, famine and disasters still others. \n\nOne small ship was all it had taken to get them there, and it had landed discretely in some far-flung corner of the planet, somewhere that was cold and lonely and empty. There, they'd made plans; some wanted to blend in, some wanted to conquer, still others wanted to start a new civilization there and deal with the future as it came.\n\nBut all he had cared about was leaving that awful, desolate tundra - and so he had volunteered to go forth and scout and relay information back to them. For once in his existence, they'd praised his bravery and armed him and supplied him and sent him out like he was a hero.\n\nFor a while, he liked to tell himself he'd tried. He'd headed in one direction, over long stretches of dark blue ocean until he hit some place green and swampy and wet; then, he'd continued North on foot or by human means of transportation, changing himself to fit with each group he met.\n\nThat, he found, was harder than he imagined. At least, he told himself, he was probably helpful there - for he had spent long, sweaty nights in the jungle and hard, hot days in the deserts of this new, wild land telling the others just how difficult it was to really, truly seem human.\n\nThey just knew, he told them; they knew if you weren't human, even if you learned how to speak their language and adapt their customs. One little thing - and bam! - they knew you didn't belong, and off you were again.\nA hand gesture with some small, round brown people had gotten him run out into the jungles; and eventually he'd met some even stranger people, who seemed to know every painted member of their group like the back of their hand and were not at all convinced by his antics.\n\nThings got easier, he found, when there were more people around; big, cold cities hid him better than little villages and tribes ever could, but even then people were suspicious. He had no money, he had no legal standing, no paperwork to back up his lies - and all of these things mattered very much to the humans.\n\nBy then, more scouts had been sent out - and their luck often was worse than his own. One died from exposure, another met their fate at the claws of a lesser earth-beast in some wild area, and then a third was captured and exposed.\n\nWith each death, his relays back became shorter and fewer as his paranoia grew. Would they catch him next? Or would they simply run him ragged until he died from exhaustion? Would being an outcast get him killed, at the hands of some fowl-smelling vagabond under a bridge? Or maybe some wild animal would grab him next?\n\nEventually, as their numbers migrated further and further into society, the news broke. Flesh Stealers Caught in New York, read one tabloid; Shape-Shifting Extraterrestial Found in New Guinea shouted another.\n\nPanic. Riots. Paranoia. More humans killed humans than his own people, it seemed - as fears grew and neighbors turned on one another - but still they all fell, one by one.\n\nBut, mean while - where was he, exactly? What had he done to help? \n\nWell, he'd survived, he told himself once again. The race hadn't died out completely, even if it had been reduced to what was technically one low ranking young male. He'd done his duty anyway, simply by continuing to exist.\n\nLike that turtle, that Darwin had done something or another with; the one he'd read about in a yellow-trimmed magazine about six, maybe seven years ago.\n\nLonesome George. He'd continued doing his job, just by existing.\n\n\n\nThe city stood out to him as something new and different as soon as he entered it. Even in other big cities, someone cared or noticed you; they wanted to know why you were out there, or where you were from, or what you were doing with your life. \n\nBut not here. Here, no one cared or asked. They just assumed.\n\nIn some cold, windy city a homeless man had asked him for his life story and nearly ratted him out when he stalled too long. Here, he'd been able to get a job and an apartment and no one had even raised an eyebrow.\n\nThen, he'd learned just what exactly they did* out here. They didn't care, it seemed, because that was this city's industry - lying, on a massive scale, for profit and entertainment. They didn't care, because they figured you were there for that.\n\nAnd so nervously, from the corner of his dingy apartment he'd called up someone on a whim. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to enjoy life on Earth.\n\n\n\nHer office was small and cramped and smelled like strange, dirty smoke; she was short and square, with curly hair poofed up like cotton candy and long nails the color of cherries. \n\n\"So, sweetheart, you got the looks but do you got the talent?\" She'd asked him, lips the same color as her nails curling into a grin. \"Ain't all a face game, you know. Can't get you more than a Kmart commercial just on that.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, no... I've... I've really trained the last few years, studied with some of the best, and... and also out on the field, all over Earth.\" He spoke slowly, but confidently - his own slight smile across his full, perfect lips; sky-blue eyes twinkling above chiseled cheek bones. \"I really think I have what it takes.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll see what everyone else says, honey, but I can probably get you in the door at least with that face.\" She smirked a little wider, gray-green eyes gleaming beneath caked-on raccoon mascara. \"So, what'll I be callin' you when I'm tellin' folks about this hot new stud in town?\"\n\n\"Uh, well, my name's George Brandon, but I was thinking maybe of going by Lonesome George...\" He began, only for a long, bony finger to be waved before him.\n\n\"Nah, sweetie, you ain't a soft'n'sweet crooner and this ain't 50s Hollywood no more,\" She scolded, tsk-tsking him, \"We'll get you somethin' fun and sexy, don't worry.\"\n\n\n\nOne K-Mart commercial had lead to another, and soon he was the face of Desperado Whiskey and then the hand-model for Flavor Watches, but the real break had come with a teen drama about a girl who fell in love with a handsome, but untrustworthy alien.\n\nThe irony hadn't been lost on him, not entirely. \n\nSoon, his face and his new name were plastered everywhere, as he hid in plain sight and watched his species dwindle on the nightly news; as his former friends and distant relatives were picked off one by one, while they tried to hide like rats.\n\n\n\n\"Say, Mr. Decker, I'm sorry to open with this, but...\" The skinny blonde girl from People* began, \"How do you feel about playing an alien - and not, necessarially a very kind one if we're supposed to believe what we're seeing - with the 'invasion' going on around us? Do you think your show is at all insensitive, all things considered?\"\n\nHe smiled politely, straight white teeth shining in the stage lighting. \n\n\"Well, first of all, call me Scott,\" He said with a gentle laugh, before continuing, \"But, really, I feel that fiction just follows reality, when it's not just coincidence. People like seeing what's going on in the media just as much as on the news, so I do think that's helped popularity. But no, no - I don't think it's insensitive. We're winning, after all - the invasion has already been a failure, I've heard.\"\n\nHe gulped nervously, smile faltering for a slight second.\n\n\"Besides, I think people want to have a more human face to these creatures. Something they can really visualize and understand, so that the reality of it is easier to swallow. Aliens might be here, but they're losing, and that's even the case on television. Poor imitations, running and hiding and not faking human very well.\"\n\n\n\nThey were losing, he realized. They never had a chance of winning, could never have taken over or really blended in.\n\nNot more than one, hiding in plain sight and loving life. \n\nPartying. Drinking. Fucking. Trying strange drugs and going strange places and eating strange food.\n\nIt was the time of his life, he told himself, even as he sweated through his expensive sheets. \n\nHe was doing his job by existing. He didn't need to feel guilty for feeling good.\n\n\n---\n\nSecond unproof read quickly written story in two days. Sorry for any errors!", "\"Hey! Be a monkey!\"\n\nChildren. Fucking children and the zoo, always wanting to stare and point and laugh.\n\n\"Monkey! BE A MONKEY!!!\"\n\nWhatever. Nothing else to do in this cage, anyway. I turned to look at him. Pudgy ginger, chocolate ice-pop stains on his face. His mother stared at me coldly. She wore one of the green-and-grey support ribbons on her arm. War Widow. One of my people probably killed her husband and tried to replace him. Fuck this bitch. Fuck this bitch, fuck her idiot husband, and fuck their noisy demanding son.\n\n\"Okay, kiddo!\" I smiled \"kindly\". Idiot kid bought it, he grinned widely. \"I can be a monkey for you, no trouble. You ready?\"\n\nThe kid jumped with joy, shrieking a high-pitched cheer. I started shifting, growing larger. Bones lengthened, muscles thickened, skin hardened into thick leathery hide, canine fangs grew long and sharp.\n\nI spoke from my newly-formed gorilla mouth. \"You like the big monkey, kid?\"\n\nHe cheered wildly, joyful and exuberant. I grinned, being sure to show my long deadly gorilla fangs. \"You know what monkeys like to do, kiddo?\"\n\n\"Swing and play!\"\n\n\"Ha ha, close!\" With the body control only one of my shape-shifting kin could manage, I motived the new digestive system I had formed to push some fecal matter out of my posterior. I grabbed it in my hand as it exited my sphincter.\n\n\"EEEEW! Mommy, he pooped!\" The boy laughed gleefully. The mother's eyes widened. She knew. Oh by the Blue God, she knew.\n\nThe boy's cheers of joy turned to shrieks of distress as I \"decorated\" him with my feces. I had lots of excess mass stored in me for shifting that had no better purpose than being converted into fecal matter and thrown. \"You like that, kid! You like my MONKEY SHIT! Little PRICK human! EAT MY SHIT!\"\n\nThe bitch war widow grabbed her shrieky ugly son and shielded him from my shit with her torso. I laughed at them. Fuck'em. The zoo handlers would probably beat me for what I just did but fuck it. Fuck them, fuck everything.\n\nNothing better to do in this cage than scream and throw shit at people, anyway. Maybe I'll make it a habit.", "Today was the day.\n\nRising from the primitive wooden frames topped by solid matter trapped in gas, covered with a thick layer of fabric known as a bed, You can't help but silently grumble about how utterly stupid human bodies are designed. True, evolution relies on astronomical leaps of chance - reliance on a member of a species developing chance adaptations that further rely on the equally unlikely chance that those adaptations get passed on. However, You can't help but marvel at whether or not there was ever any time in the brief history of humankind that complete defencelessness during sleep was ever an advantage.\n\nGingerly, you put on the appropriate uniform fit for the time of day, pajamas. It has been so very long since You have heard the rhythmic buzzing in your subconscious that signals the Queen's will or All communicating with one another but you have no doubt of what remarks they would make to see you in such drab clothing. But isn't that what caused everything to fall apart? Traveling to this backwater side of the galaxy just because a transmission was detected had been a mistake. You were always against it, but the Queen didn't listen. All didn't listen. All believed no threat could exist from such a undeveloped part of the universe yet here they are, All gone except for You. \n\nEyes widening slightly, You realize that You had been clenching Your fists and made the effort to relax them. No one would have reason to be so angry or uptight at this particular time of day, especially humans who somehow felt that certain behaviours only applied to certain times of their planetary cycle. Odd that he had gotten to know them so well these past ten years, assimilated so well that he could even copy emotional responses to the point of unconsciously doing some of them (hence the hands). Or was it only natural? Humans did say that the Stockholm Syndrome was a known phenomena but then again, what did humans know anyway?\n\nKnew enough to wipe out All of them in your ship except for You. \n\nEyeing the camera on corner of Your small room, You go downstairs and go about preparing breakfast and after consuming necessary nutrients from various food groups recommended by humans \"scientists\" (As if humans had any idea what real science was), You turn the television on, mimicking what some humans did on a regular 6th of the 7 day-cycle that humans followed even when You loathed looking at these contraptions of death. Except today wasn't ordinary. Today, not just some, but all humans will probably be watching these cursed screens. Turning it on, only one program was being played despite flipping through different channels. It was a documentary. A documentary celebrating the 10-year victory anniversary of humans since they beat All. All but You.\n\nFoolish. Foolish that no reconnaissance was done to investigatet first. Foolish that All believed that all of them could be beamed down and that no one would notice. Just because other species in the galaxy are used to other beings teleporting from place to place doesn't mean these mammals from a backwater hunk of space rock would too. Foolish that the Queen did not engage stealth and was soon shot down in her vulnerability and thousands of All were eliminated, each one's death transmitted to All and to her at once. \n\nFoolish. \n\nYou changed programs once again and watched the so called \"tube\" for a few hours before you got changed and headed down to your lab in the university nearby. As You walk in, Alex, Your PhD student looks up from her computer and seeing you, stops typing and gives you a smile\n\n\"Working on the weekend too, Dr. Smith? Shouldn't you be taking a break now?\" she greets jokingly as she watches you hang your jacket up near the door.\n\n\"Always, Alex. Science doesn't sleep. Even with our recent success\" You reply, returning her smile and walking to Your office. Quickly glancing at the cameras overhead, You listen as Alex continues to talk to You despite resuming whatever she had typing, probably the report for last week's project. Not that You needed it. Not anymore. Not that your final tests have shown that it works. It was humorous that humans helped build and launch something that will be their undoing. Humorous and fitting. \n\n\"Hopefully you won't be here too long then. I hear that the ship launches in an hour. I'm actually just about to head out myself to catch it. Just finishing up some stuff and sending them to myself so I can work from them at home. I would've done them yesterday but I forgot.\"\n\n\"I'll watch from here, don't worry, Alex.\"\n\n\"Whatever you say boss. Everyone's gonna be watching it tonight. Can you believe it's actually been ten years since those sickos came? God, I still get nightmares about them...\" Alex said with a shiver, as she continued to type away.\n\n\"Indeed, I still remember it like it was yesterday\" You whisper quietly as Alex seems to have forgotten all about You as she became engrossed in work.\n\nYou had barely survived. All were beamed down to metropolitan cities with the intent of infiltration but instead of blending in, chaos ensued and one by one they were mercilessly slaughtered. Each one's death incapacitating the Queen and All becoming confused at being discovered so easily. He was lucky to have been sent to the wrong coordinates, an abandoned city in the frigid north where people were scarce and that he had time to switch to the appropriate form after 20 hours had passed, the time it takes for them to switch from one form to another. Foolish to not investigate. Foolish to use THAT form. Why didn't they listen?\n\nIt doesn't matter. As soon as the ship launches, everything will be well. You had finally finished the device that You will use to contact All from Everywhere else, by hijacking part of the signalling in the ships' onboard control. Contact All and warn them to come to this planet prepared. All from Everywhere else must not underestimate the humans, who tricked All of us with that fake transmission that showed a wrong image of what humans would look like.\n\n\"All from Everywhere else. Listen carefully. All from my ship are dead. I alone survived\", You type out the message in a code that will be sent out from the ship, the ship that was once ours, as the human's attempt to explore and land humans in the red planet closest to theirs.\n\n\"Note that while the ship this is on looks like ours, humans have taken it over. Humans killed All of them including my Queen. We were tricked\"\n\n\"When you come, be prepared. When you are close enough, your Queen will be able to reach me and I can tell you more.\"\n\n\"Most importantly, humans do not look like this image. I will send you their actual images as your Queen makes contact with me\" You finished typing, and attached THAT image. The image that ruined everything. The image from the transmission that lead to the deaths of All from your ship but You. \n\nAn image of four multi-coloured toddlers with television screens implanted in their abdomens.", "I miss my brothers and sisters. Their black blood stained the hands of the scientists that cut them open to try to discover how they worked. They had goals of recreating our active camouflage to use as a weapon in their pathetic wars. \n\nI alone survived, and that was purely by accident. I vowed to take my vengeance upon the human race. They will pay for what they have done.\n\nMy polished black Italian leather shoes clicked against the stone floor as I walked to the podium. The last time I was this nervous was when our ship was entering Earth's atmosphere. I buried the memory into the back of my mind and took a deep steadying breath. \n\n\"The next President of the United States of America! DONALD TRUMP!\" the announcer's voice boomed over the speakers.\n\n ", "\"Look I know she's cheating on me. Just get me some photos and I'll pay you a thousand dollars, that's more then double your fee for a week long case. I'm sick of this broad I want her out of my life in the worst way.\" The old, fat, balding man said as he stood in front of Bob's desk. \n\nBob, or DazTranDolXin as he was known on his home planet nodded to the complaining man and stood up he extended his right hand in the traditional handshaking gesture of this human's culture. \n\n\"I'll take care of it.\" Bob said as they two men shook. The man gave a weak smile and left the room. Bob looked at the folder he'd been given, addresses, photos of the cheating wife, all the standard info. He would get on with the investigation soon enough. \n\nIt had been ten years since the invasion. Bob felt sad every time he thought about it, the Shifters struck to hard too quick, replacing heads of state in all the major nations almost instantly, but humans were far more emotional than any other race they had manipulated before. People saw the differences in their leaders almost instantly, when somebody finally punched the fake George W. Bush and their fist went through his face and he melted into a puddle of black ichor on the ground that then reformed as a five foot tall mass of blades and barbs, That was when, as the humans would say, shit hit the fan. \n\nBob's job was to protect his masters, he was supposed to be a warrior but once he saw the hopelessness of the Shifters situation he fled. Others hid in the shadows as well but the desire for power that's practically hardwired into every Shifter got the best of them. They end up taking over the life of a governor or a billionaire and sooner or later they get found out and killed. Bob never had any use for it, Bob just wanted to live. \n\nAnd being a private detective let him live and it allowed him to study humanity. They were a weird and interesting people. They loved passionately yet got bored of their partners easy. He blamed most of it on sex, the Shifters had nothing like it, every twenty years two Shifters would just get in a tub and liquify themselves in a tub and mix chemicals and a new Shifter would be formed from the process, it was cold and clinical, nothing like the intense passion of human breeding. \n\nBob grabbed the folder, looked at the cheating wife and the addresses to find her at and went to work. He'd found emotions in himself in the years of working as a private eye, there was a thrill of the chase that he found delightful. That same rush hit him when he finally laid eyes on the target as she was walking down a crowded city road. \n\nNormally a tail tries to avoid being seen, but Bob liked letting his targets know they were being followed, liked to spook them and get them jumpy. He'd found that humans do dumb things when they get rattled. \n\n\"Hey back off creep! I'll call the cops!\" The wife shouted at him after he'd spent two blocks only a few feet behind her. \n\n\"Sorry ma'am, I was just heading to the bar.\" Bob replied and he dipped into a nearby bar a few feet ahead of them. Bob walked into the bathroom and sat in a stall and performed the stunt he loved the most. Walking out of a stall as an attractive human female in a room full of men. The shock and confusion on all their faces gave him a weird sort of satisfaction he'd never felt before. \n\nHot Female Bob then kept up the tracking of the woman till she made it to the motel where she was going to meet her lover. A quick thought and Bob made a police badge appear around his neck, if anyone questioned why a beautiful woman was hanging out in the bushes near a motel a quick flash of the badge and a claim of a stake out would send them on their way. \n\nBob crept up to the window and slowly stuck a listening device on it. He could have just turned himself into a coating on the street and oozed over, but this was quicker and he hated getting run over and having to pick chunks of himself out of car tires. Once the bug was in place it was time to sit back and let the story tell itself, usually it was some small talk and then a bunch of moaning and groaning. \n\n\"He had somebody following me! I know it! That idiot's going to ruin everything. Idiot just couldn't keep his head down and let me do my job. The whole plan is at risk now.\" The wife said. \n\n\"So what do we do?\" The Other Man said. \n\n\"Kill him. Make it look like an accident. It'll set our time table back a few months, but this is to important to leave to chance.\" The Wife said. \"Oh\" she continued. \"And find out who he hired to follow me. We may have to kill them too.\" she finished. \n\nBob for the first time in his existence felt fear. This was far bigger than any case he'd ever been on before. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "\"Hello Fellow Human, How Was Your Weekend?\"\n\nI had adapted. Small talk, idle conversation, sports talk, I was a master of them all.\n\n\"I'm fine thanks Ted\" my coworker replied, \"What did you get up to?\"\n\n\"I Watched The Football On The Television, I am Glad My Team Won, And I Accepted Nutrient Cooked On An Open Flame On Sunday\".\n\n\"Do you mean you went to Jeff's barbique on Sunday?\"\n\n\"Exactly.\" Nailed it. When my species had come to planet earth and hidden among the humans, they had slowly rooted us out. All but me. The invasion may be over, but I actually have a pretty comfortable life here compared with my home planet XXDRAXXA!3.33.5. That's why I decided to stay, hidden, living a human life.\n\n\"Enough Banter Thank You Mate. I Must Go And Prepare The Finance Report For Carol\".\n\n\"Fair enough, we still on for that double date this friday, me and the wife, you and yours?\"\n\n\"Of Course, Frank, You Bet\" I replied, pulling off a perfect human smile to go with it. I wandered back to my desk.\n\n----------------------------------\n\nFrank smile at Carol ... \"Yeah I know he's a bit weird, but you get used to him. I mean, we all know he's one of those lizard person aliens, but we all sort of like him. He's sweet\"\n\n\"Sweet?\" replied Carol. \"I saw him eating a box of crickets he had hidden in his desk the other day\"\n\n\"Yeah well, that's just Ted being Ted\".", "I gave up on infiltrating earth to take it over a long time ago.\n\n\nI’ll say that now to get it out of the way, I just want to make it clear that I’ve got no intention of taking this place over. \n\n\nAs I sit under the blazing hot cabana, I smile, right now I’m a mid 30’s man with short brown hair, a muscular body and a cheesy set of glistening teeth. It seems like the most appropriate form to be in at this moment in time. I look left and right, the beach is totally empty there’s not a soul in sight. An ocean of color is around me, orange, yellow, red, with occasional flickers of blue. I flick the newspaper to the next page, of course it’s not a real one, the whole thing is just another part of my body, not that anybody else notices that. People noticed my comrades changing because they were cocky and careless, they thought that if they took this place over it could be a new paradise for us. \n\n\nThat’s why they all had to die.\n\n\nI noticed as soon as we arrived here that the planet was in disarray. The majority of headlines were about war, the people were angry and bitter about everything and it seemed like the only thing that helped them was killing each other, such a petty to do to relieve stress. The planet was apparently warming to a point they couldn’t correctly inhabit it, despite being freezing compared to my planet’s standards. The whole place was in a shambles and at that point I knew that taking the place over was near impossible. Something I’ve learned in my time here is that power struggles are futile. Even if we managed to take this place over we’d be pushed out or killed. Another thing I’ve learned here, humans are devastating weapons when in the right hands. \n\n\nWhen it came to getting rid of my comrades I had to improvise. We’re very durable beings. We’re fireproof, can’t drown, don’t need to eat, drink, or breathe. The only way to kill one of us is to break us into so many pieces that we can’t possibly regenerate. I ratted them all out, lied and told them that we were trusted and we need to cooperate no matter what. I’ve learnt that lying is a valuable tool too. They took us all away, I told them about the way to kill us too. Just as they were about to detonate the explosive I turned into what you call a fly and took off as fast as possible, I barely missed the blast but I escaped. The rest were left literally in the dust. It was next to what I can only assume to be some sort of command center shaped into a 5 sided shape. I got into that place and then eventually found what I wanted. It looked almost like what I’ve seen in human movies. A big red button, I slammed my hand into it and took off to get on the beach for my own view of the action. \n\n\nAnd so here I am. You see, I knew this place was beyond saving from the first moment I came here, I know I’ve failed my mission so I can’t return home without being killed. Why would I want to go home anyway when I have a front row ticket to my own personal stress reliever. I absorb the newspaper back into my body and lay back on the sun-bed. The flames surrounding the beach are still roaring but I enjoy the heat, I hum a tune to myself, loud enough to hear over the dying sirens. You’ll probably hear about all this soon, and so begins the chain of retaliation, another war, I guarantee this one will leave behind nothing but ashes.\n\n\nI don’t even know if anyone will end up reading this, half the world could be gone by the time I finish this. But if anyone is still here to read this, I leave you with this quote from one of your movies I enjoyed the most in my time here.\n\n\n“Some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned, or negotiated with. Some men just want to watch the world burn.”", "Honestly, do you know how hard it is to perfectly emulate someone? There are a million mannerisms, a billion things to know, and depths to a person's character that aren't immediately obvious when done right but are glaringly obvious when done wrong. Once the first of us were found and people knew that there were shapeshifters among them, the rest fell quickly as you humans started connecting the dots.\n\nMe? I chose a different approach, one deemed insane by everyone I knew. I studied human anatomy, growth, and development much more closely than my colleagues. Then, when I thought I was ready, I transformed myself into a baby human and left myself outside a church. They took me in. They placed me with a human couple.\n\nI acted the part of the innocent child named Ted. I went to school. I learned their history and their culture from their own teachers, people who expected* me to be ignorant in those things. And when my own kind started getting caught, I was horrified but extremely smug at the same time. Nobody suspected me. My own personality, filtered through a human guise, was everything the humans knew about me; there weren't the normal discrepancies because I hadn't replaced anyone. I was a character of my own creation.\n\nIt's been twenty years now since the last of my kind was caught. People were still paranoid, but since no shifter has been detected in that time, the humans are starting to calm down. That paranoia, however, was good for me. People took the time to get to know each other better, just in case one of their own was ever taken and replaced. The government instituted a policy that says all salaried employees have to take breaks in pairs so that they can spend time getting to know each other. That's how I met my wife, Andromeda.\n\nNow if only our daughter, Nymphadora, would stop changing her hair color.\n\n---\n\nA/N: Why yes, it is a Harry Potter story." ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 13, 16, 22, 24, 163 ]	[ "1469725141", "1469730726", "1469736871", "1469742459", "1469744026", "1469735892", "1469730431", "1469733891", "1469738960", "1469731338", "1469729417" ]
	[WP] Extremely dissatisfied with their presidential choices and feeling that their vote won’t matter anyway, every American decides not to vote, except you	38	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I glance around at the polling centre -- it was completely empty except for the staffers who I presume, had already voted. Why wouldn't they? They were already here! I had heard that turnout was going to be astonishingly low because nobody liked any of the candidates, but this was pretty absurd! I didn't really want to vote either, both candidates were pretty shit and when there are another 300 million people who can all vote for one or the other...well...why bother? \n\nI looked at the two names on the sheet. One who had clearly won their nomination for their party, and one who had clearly won their nomination for their party...both extremely untrustworthy with horrendous polling across most demographics. Neither someone I wanted to be running the country. Ah well, I guess there is a third option. Heh. I couldn't help but grin as I scribbled down my choice.\n\nWhen I had gotten home after the polls closed, all the news stories were about the complete and utter lack of voters whatsoever. As electorate after electorate reported in with 0 votes, I started getting a sinking feeling in my stomach. I couldn't watch this. I went to bed early that night. The next morning, I checked my phone immediately when I woke up and...oh no. \n\nMaybe voting for Kanye West via write-in wasn't the best idea after all.", "My hands sweat and the pen in my hand nearly slips a couple of times. It all depends on me, the country's fate is in my hands. But I really don't want that responsibility.\n\nI don't even know about the candidates, I can't just judge this on names can I?\n\nSince I'm the only voter all I have to do is tick a box and drop it into a box. It's not that hard but I can't bring myself to do it.\n\nI have an idea, I'll close my eyes and then just tick randomly. That way fate gets to decide. Yeah, I'll do that.\n\nHere goes nothing.\n\nI drop the paper into the box beside me and then open my eyes.\n\nI come out of the room and see the faces of thousands staring back at me.\n\nA suited man walks out and opens the box, he pulls out the paper.\n\n\"The next President of the United States is, hang on... This paper... It's void\"" ]	[ 1, 11, 14 ]	[ "1469731353", "1469745043", "1469732046" ]
	[WP] A small meteor crashes into Earth and is now ahead in the US Presidential polls	17	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "The platform on the stage was beginning to smoulder and Brad Teethington, the moderator for the night began to sweat, both from the nerves of hosting the first of these presidential debates and also from the immense heat the gigantic rock on stage was giving off. He waved across to the producer who nodded, feeling it too and began to speak quietly into his headset. A moment later he looked back and gave the thumbs up, they had permission to start early. \n\nThe other two candidates were hurried onto stage, Hilary still smoothing down her plain pantsuit and Donald smiling, unaware that his toupee was sitting at an unlikely angle. An aide darted onto stage to try to fix it, but it was no use, the camera light went green, the music began and the show began. \n\nBrad smiled, trying to ignore the river of sweat running down his back as he did his introduction. “Welcome American to the first in this series of three debates between the three Presidential candidates. One of the individuals on stage will be your next President of the United States of America.” \n\nThe crowd went wild and Brad paused, before continuing as quickly as he could. The drapes above the stage had now began to burn with a low flame and grips could be seen climbing the scaffold with fire extinguishers in hand. \n\nBrand continued. “Two of the candidates are of course known to America, Hilary Clinton, the Democratic nominee and Donald Trump, the Republican nominee, but they are joined by a third who has been catapulted into this race by vast and overwhelming public support. Please welcome Donald Trump, Hilary Clinton and the red hot meteorite from outer space!” \n\nOn stage Donald and Hilary waved, a little uncertain now. Hilary’s makeup was sliding down her face, leaving her with a grim smile that was starting to scare the smaller children in the room and Donald’s hair was now blazing merrily, although he seemed not to notice. The gigantic rock did nothing but sit and generate heat. \n\nBrand took a sip of water, finishing the whole glass in one and signalling for more. “First question, why are you more fit to lead this country than the other candidates? Donald, if you would.” \n\nDonald Trump smiled an easy smile. Until the late 3rd party entrant he had been leading the polls and this was his chance to regain momentum. “Brad, I think it’s simple. Hilary is crooked and we simply cannot trust her and this gigantic rock wasn’t even born in America. Unless they can produce a birth certificate then my lawyers are working to have them removed from the running, so I am not at all concerned with either of them.” \n\nBrad nodded. “And you, Hilary?” \n\nHilary shook her head. “The same old attacks from Donald. I am the only candidate that has the experience needed to run this country. The other two are simply outsiders and while I can see the attraction, at this point in America’s history we need someone who can lead us to better times and these two will offer nothing but incompetence and lack of leadership.” \n\nBrad turned to the last candidate. “And you, gigantic rock, why are yu more fit to lead?” \n\nFor a moment there was perfect silence as the whole country waited for the rock to do something. Thirty seconds passed and then a minute and murmurings began in the crowd that were swiftly shushed. Then, just as Brad was about to call time, there was a noise. It was a soft groaning, which grew into a screeching until suddenly the support structure above the stage collapsed as the metal, warped beyond its ability to withstand the head, collapsed, crushing the candidates on state. \n\nAs the dust settled a new silence began, not shocked, but something else, a quiet awe. Towards the back someone began clapping and in a moment the whole crowd was on their feet, whooping and cheering. Even Brad, forbidden by his job to take sides and aware it might cost him his career, stood and clapped with the rest. \n\nA new day had begun, one where politics would be ruled by common sense and giant hot meteorite was the one to lead America into this bold new future. \n" ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1469782695", "1469783722" ]
	[WP] An astronaut in the ISS realizes they are probably the last human alive	33	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", " It turns out T. S. Elliot was wrong, the world did end with a bang. I know because I watched it unfold from 250 miles away. I've been watching it unfold for months though I never thought it would actually happen. Some pompous diplomat or careless official decided to press the big red button and now everything is fucked. Some twisted side of me almost wished this would happen; between the disease and the crime and all the other side effects of the human condition something needed to happen. But now that it is here, now that this has actually happened...oh fuck! And I just watched, like a fly on the wall and a sick thought in the back of my head almost wishing this would happen. But none of that matters now--nothing fucking matters. Everyone and everything is dead (bye bye birdie hahaha) and I'm floating around this now desolate rock like I'm on some goddamn merry-go-round. I can almost hear the carnival music (Step right up, step right up! Come see the Earth commit suicide by use of nuclear weapons! Why, it'll only cost you a few moments of your time and soul crushing isolation until your dying breath!). Oh shit, that never even occurred to me: I'm all alone. This was just supposed to be repair mission, so there aren't even other crew members aboard. Fuck! (Ohh what's the matter young man, the carnival food not agreeing with you?! You look a little green around the gills! Perhaps it's the spinning from the Merry-Go-Round! All you have to do is...) I need to keep focus, otherwise I'll snap (...just get off the ride! You'll feel much better, I swear!). And if I don't get a grip I'll use more oxygen than I can afford. (Looks like you could use some fresh air, kiddo!). Right! How could I not think of that?! I won't use up all the oxygen if I just (You'll feel much better, I swear!) open the hatch (You'll feel much better...) ", "November 10 2098\n\nIt was about one week ago I left for the first solo ISS mission. There is no one else here. The first few days went smoothly and according to plan. But on the fifth day, all communication to mission control was lost. And there was no lights from cities. I knew, for a fact, that I am the last human. What happened, I don't know.\n\nNovember 11\n\nAfter countless attempts at reaching someone, the Americans, the Russians, the British, the Chinese, all attempts have been fruitless. I have never felt so alone. The realization slowly came to me. I am the last human being. Why do I continue? There is no reason for me to exist anymore. \n\nNovember 12\n\nI have not slept in the past three days. Maybe I'm not the last person on earth. There must be someone out there. Someone. I try the radios a bit more. No one. Maybe all the powerplants failed. That's it. \n\nNovember 13\n\nI have realized the folly of my ways yesterday. The lack of sleep has made my mind cloudy. I am the last man in existence. I went into the airlock, said my final prayers, and made note of these last moments of humanity, hoping that some alien race will find this journal and be able to read it. Goodbye.", "\"Hello? Houston? Anybody there?\"\nI had tried for the 50th time today. I thought it was a malfunction though, so I went to the captain's room. He wasn't there. I spent 4 and a half hours searching through the entire ship. Nobody was here. Not even in the storage rooms. It just didn't make any sense. They were here yesterday, so why were they just gone? And why was the radio not even working?\n\nI took a long, hard look out of the earth facing window. Nothing strange back on earth. I could still see most of earth's landmasses. Water looked okay, but that was when something caught my eye. As we rotated eastward, a large, sword(?) looking thing appeared to be hovering a couple miles above the atlantic ocean. It was just big enough for me to pinpoint, about the size of my fingertip. Then, I noticed about 9 others, positioned around the globe. How could I have not noticed it?\n\nThey appeared to be pulsing blue, sending out waves every 4 or 5 seconds. Perhaps those are what killed off (hopefully not) everybody on Earth. But why was I the only one left on the ISS? That's when I remembered. I had been in a fight with another crew member for accidentally bumping into some valuable equipment, and possibly breaking it. I floated off towards my bunk, hoping to get some shuteye, maybe apologize in the morning. Guess that wouldn't happen now. I had heard some commotion, but assumed it was nothing. That may have been the astronauts leaving in the escape capsules. \n\nThe world was nothing now. I was probably the last human alive. Somebody would have contacted me via open radio. Nobody had contacted me as of yet. Wait. I just thought of something brilliant. There was one evacuation capsule left on board. I had been taught how to man an escape capsule by myself, all I needed was to grap a suit, get on board, and head off. \n\nI did those, but one thing turned up. How could I be so stupid? Last night, I had bumped into the equipment powering the escape pods. It was broken. There's no way to fix it, because we need an engineer, and both engineers had escaped without me. \n\nThat was it. I was going to die alone, onboard the International Space Station.", "\"Incoming videochat.....\" \n\nHopefully it was Houston to tell me what was actually happened yesterday. I floated towards the command module at the front of the station, catching a quick glimpse of our blue planet. So majestic it looked floating in the light of the sun. That was when it truly dawned on me that I was the only person not to be currently sat on the giant rock below me. A wave of loneliness then flowed through my body like nothing I had felt before. I didn't even feel this lonely when both my parents had died when I was only 10. I could feel the a tear bubble building in my duct. I wiped it away with the sleeve of my standard issue blue jumpsuit that all NASA astronauts are given. I've got to pull together I told myself, I'm the most experienced astronaut they had, it'll just be an extra few days onto my already record breaking time in space. I had personally led the past two missions on the ISS. I carried on floating down my temporary prison towards the command module.\n\n\"So Commander Jack can you please explain to me again what the fuck happened yesterday? As Russia seems to have cut all communication with us whilst China aren't providing any information at all.\"\n\n\"Like I said to control yesterday, my crew were boarding the Soyuz capsule whilst I preformed the last minute checks. When I approached the capsule to board Commander Yenkov grabbed open the survival box and pulled out the gun and pointed it at me. I was then told to leave the capsule and stay here.\"\n\nSigh \"It looks like all this political tension has finally reached space. Don't worry we'll sort it out. You just float back and relax. Oh and don't forget America doesn't forget!\"\n\nAmerica doesn't forget. I chuckled at the thought as it crossed my mind for the third day running. No contact, not even a text based message, nothing since that line. It definitely felt like they had forgotten. I floated back to the window, I had lost count how many times over the past four days I had just gazed out onto Earth hoping to see my rescue rocket soaring through the atmosphere, and just like the contact with NASA there was nothing.\n\n\"No connection\" I dunno what I expected the signal dropped a few hours ago and nothing on this station ever miraculously fixes itself. I'll have to add it to my report for the next crew. Back to gazing out of the window then. This time there wasn't nothing. An unmistakable light carrying on a trajectory was skimming over the horizon. Excitement and joy filled my insides. I felt as giddy as a kid in a sweatshop. My rescue ship had arrived. It never even crossed my mind that NASA couldn't get anything in the air that quickly. But my excitement soon came to an abrupt end when I spotted another, then another. They were coming from all directions on every continent. \n\nThen the loneliness flowed in again...\n\n", "It had been three days since my crew evacuated; three days since the collision; three days since the apparent end of the world. I thought I was being the hero for staying behind and making sure the rest of my crew could safely get in the emergency capsules and head back to Earth. We had to make use of all four emergency capsules to get everyone back, but the Russian hatch was jammed. I held it open for Rob and Arthur, knowing I'de have to stay behind. But I was content; I fulfilled my childhood dream of being an astronaut. I survived the rigorous conditioning, the tedious training, the years of waiting. Eight months of grin inducing weightlessness and beautiful views of our home planet were well worth it. \n\nJust ten minutes after my crew vanished from sight however, I began to question my decision. The reason we evacuated in the first place was because of a small meteor on target for the station. With not enough time for course corrections, our only decision was to evacuate. Looking at the radar moniter showed something different. A meteor vastly bigger than what NASA had told us. I didn't believe what I was seeing at first. The 15 foot rock was now nearly 12 miles in length. I thought it must be some sort of error; some fault in the system as a result of our evacuation - possibly related to the faulty Russian capsule. Again and again as I rescanned and confirmed the readings, another possibility began to come in mind. Perhaps NASA knew. Not wanting to scare us they under rated the size so we could evacuate with our minds as ease. \n\n\nThe next 20 minutes seemed like a lifetime. I watched the monstrous rock narrowly pass by the station (I guess we didn't have to evacuate anyway). I watched it punch through the atmosphere burning with a strangely beautiful red tinge. I watched the shockwave make its way around the circumference of the earth. A wave of fire and destruction which circled the earth multiple times, getting smaller with each pass. As the sun set for the 12th time today and I saw no city lights, no sign of civilization- I realized I may now be the last human alive." ]	[ 1, 2, 3, 3, 5, 13 ]	[ "1469820882", "1469843419", "1469840695", "1469842705", "1469852866", "1469825656" ]
	[WP] You have somehow gone back to a time of cavemen. Excited to become their leader, you plan on showing them fire, only to find out they already know about that. You still want to be distinguished, but with that card gone, it becomes a lot harder to impress...	26	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Oh. You've mastered fire, have you?\" Ron looked disappointed, something only enhanced by his knowledge that none of them understood what he was saying.\n\nThen Ron's stomach rumbled. He blinked, looked around, then grinned. They have fire, he thought, but even my shitty food is gourmet compared to how they prepare food! He began making a mental tally of what he'd need: earthenware to cook on, some solid wood to turn into various utensils... he could do this! Thank god for that hipster he dated that insisted on taking a pottery class with him.\n\nFortunately for Ron, the small tribal group he encountered was curious and fascinated enough about him to not chase him off right away. It took Ron several days to construct everything he needed, which was faster than he thought it'd take him. It was amazing how productive someone could be when they literally had nothing else to do. Ron took a few more days to scout the general area for useful herbs, managing to find some lavender, onions, and even some garlic! Salt could be procured easily enough by boiling seawater.\n\nRon had hoped to crown himself king, shocking and amazing neolithic people with his marvelous fire! He became a king, but not quite the sort he wanted to become. Individuals and tribes would come from miles around to have Ron's cooked or dried foods. Where people gathered to eat, trade was bound to spring up.\n\nNo one could read it but Ron, but he was proud of the sign outside his compound: Ron's Diner and Bizarre.", "\"Seriously?\" The flash of light from her arrival blinded every nomad in the camp. \"You already have it? Did he beat me here? That little monster,\" Sarah pulled a strand of hair back behind a clip. The nomads didn't know what to do, it was the second person they'd seen in mysterious colors that covered far more than a loin cloth would. Two of the huskier men beat their clubs against their palms and stepped towards her.\n\nSarah smirked. Their approach was pointless, she charged at them, easily leaping and knocking them out with the sole of her shoe. Sarah brushed her hands off, \"anyone else? That's what I thought,\" she grabbed a log out of the fire and began waving it around. \"I'm your new master- alright?\" They grunted but it seemed they got the message. \"I can't teach you about fire...I really only had that...well how about wavelengths- no, no that won't make sense. Oh! Math, I can write the first math problem!\" Sarah jogged over to the cave, all but breaking into someone's home.\n\n\"Who let him do this?! Who?\" She waved the burning stick around the cave. A small mix of integers was scrawled on the wall, right next to a cave painting and a signature by that disdainful boy- Maxwell. Sarah had a lot of catching up to do; she scratched out his name and drew a few stick figures with spears around the buffalo. With that, she dropped the burning stick back on the fire and started down the hunting trail- this was going to be the worst rewriting history challenge yet." ]	[ 1, 3, 4 ]	[ "1469837926", "1469858366", "1469838803" ]
From The Little Prince	[WP] "I've been foolish," she said to him at last. "Please forgive me. Try to be happy."	1	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"I've been foolish, please, forgive me\". She said over her extra large Costa something-stupidly-named coffee. It smelled faintly of caramel. \n\n\"I'm sure you're aware of your behaviour, that doesn't mean you're apology is accepted. Nor does the fact were biologically related give you any privileges on that score either, Maisie\". I was pissed at her still. The lawyer in me was screaming to walk away, but the best I could hope for was this basic apology and hope the old guy died sooner rather than later and I could just move... I let my mind wonder whilst she stirred her cup. It was an awkward silence but I was in no great hurry to talk. \n\n\"Look, I'm well aware of your thoughts on me. It's no great secret that all of you, the whole family, see me as this heinous monster wh-\"\n\nI cut her off before her bullshit made me do stuff I'd regret \"Don't. Save me your self serving bullshit. I can't believe you're making this about the family. The only fucking tone you've ever thought about the family is when your rummaging through the old man's bank account statements. Fuck. I've been telling him to go paperless for years just so people like you couldn't get all gooey eyed over his savings. You're wrong. Stop trying to make this something it isn't and just admit to what it is\" I actually almost spat the last bit out. Seeing her squirm gave me no particular enjoyment, but a girl has to get kicks somehow. Maybe I'm a sadist. Who knows?\n\n\"Hmm. Disdain. You think you're above me. But I know things. Real things, Chel\"\n\n\"Really? I'm here because he asked me to be and this is the best you can do? I'm wasting my time\"\n\nShe pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and spread it out on the table, flattening it out with her hands. Rain had obviously got to it at some point in its past and it looked like it just might have come from someone's garbage. \n\n\"I don't expect you to believe me. I expect you to believe the truth. It's here, in black and white\" she pointed to the paper and turned it in my direction. I looked, almost expecting it to be some kind of- fuck, I dunno. Not what I was looking at. At first glance I thought it was a child's drawing. But it wasn't. I don't know it yet, but this is the most dangerous thing I've held. Ever. \n\n\"What is it?\" I ask as I'm turning it in my hands, looking for that secret number like you get in those tests where they check your colour blindness. \n\n\"Oh for fuck sake\" she huffed and snatched it out of my hand. She placed it back on the table and scooted into the seat next to me. \"Ok. Well. I know it's not really legible, but it is once you know what you're looking for\" she pointed with her perfectly manicured finger to the grey pencil smudge on the paper. \"Here. I'd kinda hoped you'd see it so I wouldn't be... What's the term you legal eagles use? Coercing? Yeah. I didn't want to coerce you\". I finally submitted to her madness and put on my glasses. \n\nThere, among the streaks of pencil rubbed across the page, barely visible, was writing. My mother's writing. Words. A telephone number \"Monday, 4.30a.m. accident, \"Roy\"\". \n\n\"So what's this all about Maisie?\"\n\n\"It's the day you're going to die\"...\n\nI sat there, stunned. Today was Monday. Was it this Monday? Next Monday? A month from now? How do I tell my kids? My husband? Do I tell them at all? Why me?\n\nAnd thus began the worst day of my life. \n\nTBC" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1469859631", "1469891772" ]
[removed]	[WP]	0	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Hi, the prompt needs to go in the title of your post. Feel free to repost this with the prompt in the title." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1469864337", "1469865177" ]
	[WP] surfing the deep web you stumbled upon a strange site named the ultimate god control panel, you laugh and choose to remove the colors and for your surprise the world turns to black and white. It works..	35	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"No way...\", I whispered under my breath. I could feel my breathing quicken as my blinking increased dramatically and I splashed my glass of water on my pulsating face. Nothing... still just black and white. \n\nI tapped the black/white button again and suddenly in the next blink everything was back to normal. A quick Google search proved that I must be the only person to find this site. There were no articles or any kind of news/forums for anything like the site I had just been on.\n\n\"Pancakes?\", called my girlfriend from the kitchen, shaking me back to reality. I shut the lid on my laptop in an instant and managed to stumble my way to the kitchen.\n\n\"Are you alright there?\" she lamented in her usual calm voice.\n\n\"Yeah yeah its nothing\", I muttered.\n\n\"I will see you after work alright?\"\n\n\"Sounds good\" I whispered in deep thought.\n\nShe began to clean the dishes as I left the door of our two room flat and made my way downstairs. How could this be? What kind of sorcery could trick my own mind in such a way? I know that senses are all just based on brain input so it must be some kind of bias that makes me want it to work. \n\nBut why has there been no mention of it on the web? Am I the only one to find this site? All these thoughts and more flooded me as I made my way down into the station and plumped down on the Canal St. bench waiting for the subway. \n\nOne of the overhead lights was flickering intensely, disturbing my deep thought. Suddenly it just died off and my mind was able to focus again. The subway could be heard form far off and I was on just as it pulled up with suitcase in hand. \n\nA thought immediately struck me, something to terrible to even consider. I suddenly knew why I seemed to be the first person to find this site. But what if... no... she can't touch my laptop. I knew how it had altered my reality before and I had left the tab open. I jumped up from my seat but only to late to miss the subway door by just seconds. My heart was pounding and I could hear my breathing as eyes were all focused on me. \n\n\"SOMEONE HELP ME!\" \"I NEEED TO GET HOME NOW!!\"\n\nA confused group of passengers muttered to themselves and tried to avoid eye contact as I scrambled around the car. \n\nAnd just like that suddenly everything went dark and I felt nothing. I was gone." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1469920027", "1469965125" ]
	[WP] A king wants his daughter to marry for true love, but she would much rather marry for wealth and power	9	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"So, like, I met this super rich prince at Elizabeth's birthday feast last month. He's ugly as shit though.\" \n\n\"But do you love him? Marriage is pretty serious.\" \n\n\"I can't even speak his language, Dad. But I love his money. Plus, his dad's, like, super old. Like, older than you. I'd be queen in a year.\"\n\n\"But sweetie, there's more to life than power. And how are you supposed to marry him if you can't talk to him.\"\n\n\"That's the easy part. I got the Greek sculptor to make one of me. He sent it off this morning. Should get there some time in the next two months.\"\n\n\"What?!?!?\"\n\n\"Don't worry, dad. He didn't see me naked. I just had him use his imagination. Look. All I want is to be queen. And don't you love your only daughter? Don't you want her to marry a rich guy so her family's super powerful? Come on. We could have, like, sooooo much farmland. Imagine all the peasants. I could have an different affairs with the stable-\"\n\n\"Enough!! I did not raise come from royalty to raise a gold miner! Now, go out there and find someone, ANYONE, with some similar interests, you actually would want to spend the rest of your life with. Like your mother did for me.\"\n\n\"Harold, that's a bit of a stretch there...\"\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1469942951", "1469958598" ]
.	[WP] You survive to the end of the universe and witness reality itself unfurling around you.	11	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "There was always this nagging suspicion, this wonder, this worry, that things stop existing once we stop seeing them. Babies know it, but after a year they've buried the fear deep within them, where it sits and rots and drives everything the adult does, the craving for the physical, for big cars and homes and breasts, we cling onto the world around us to deny it's nonexistence, as if shouting \"I want this to be real!\" loud enough will make it so.\n\nWe never really accepted the truth, even at the end. Even after we saw the electrons that whizzed away when we were looking at them, and then, hundreds of years later, when the probes we sent out into the depths of space came back transformed, if they came back at all. It got worse, Mercury passed behind the sun and never come back again, babies left alone in cots would disappear. The world was slipping away, item by item, going missing.\n\nThe scientists said they were only invisible, said the universe was splitting into billions of smaller ones, one for each point of view, \"Your loved ones aren't dying.\" They said, \"They're only going away. We can fix this. We can bring them back.\"\n\nI remember watching them on the television, and looking to a spider making home int he corner of my room, then looking back to the television, and the scientists were gone. The crowd was gone. The cameraman was gone. I called to my wife, because she had been watching the kitchen television, and I wanted to know if she'd witnessed the moment the scientists disappeared.\n\nI called three time. I didn't go in the kitchen to check for her, I couldn't bear it. She was in her own universe now.\n\nI grabbed a jar and took the spider, and I left.\n\nI'm still looking at the spider, I've named her Sophie - after my wife. The people went away the scientists. The stars disappeared three weeks ago. The sun didn't rise this morning. Sophie's still here though. She's still in my universe.\n\nShe stopped walking, stopped trying to escape the jar, she must be hungry, I'm sorry Sophie, but there's nothing left to feed you. I'm cold, Sophie, I'm tired, but I mustn't close my eyes, who knows what will be gone when I wake up.\n\nHow much sleep deprivation before you start to hallucinate, I wonder?\n\nIt would be nice to have some company." ]	[ 1, 6 ]	[ "1469961059", "1469963540" ]
	[WP] A species other than humans has become the dominant species, and humans are endangered	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "April 1st : Pandemic 218. That's what they are calling it. \n\nSymptoms include; Severe swelling of the eyes and forehead, psychological break down, complete paralysis, then coma. \n\nI'd been studying several Raccoons with the Virus, many of which were already in the coma stage of the disease. Vitals on most were stable, odd considering the lack of food, but this virus is quite odd as well. There are many raccoons, however, not yet into the paralysis stage, and those are the most disturbing. Hyper-violent outbreaks are not rare, nor is the strange grunts during their fits of rage. I swear, it would almost sound like they were demanding freedom. \n\nApril 5th : We'd assumed that due to the rage inducing aspects of the virus that it was a strain of rabies. When we were removing the skull of one particular Raccoon, however, no samples could be taken as the brain had liquefied inside the skull. How the raccoon was still alive baffled me. \n\nApril 6th : Appears some of the Comatose raccoons are beginning to show signs of reawakening. A CT scan of one of the more docile post-coma raccoons showed us something, very, very wrong. I...I really dont know how to explain it, other than massive, off the charts brain activity. \n\n\n{ Special News Bulletin!} \n\n\"It appears that a large sample of contaminated Raccoons have managed to escape their cages at the CDC and we have lost contact with the people inside.\" \nTV's across the nation were broadcasting the strange turn of events. \n\"First responders have not been able to reach anyone inside due to blockaded doors and windows. As well as possible contaminates. Police Chief Timothy Stone had the following to say; \n\n'No, we have no reason to believe this is terrorist related, or that anyone is armed or dangerous. If no response can be gained, in a short while we will use force, but as the situation presents itself, none is really necessary.' \n\n\"Thank you for that analysis Chief Stone.\"\n \n-a short time later-\n\n\"We now go live to David Garter, at the scene of the unexplained CDC lock down.\"\n\n\"Thank you Trisha, Here we see the police about the unveil the shroud around the locked CDC building. Over there we see the swat team with their battering ram. Ok, they are approaching the door now.\"\n\nThe swat team hammered at the door once, then twice, before the dense ram made its way through the recently reinforced door. \n\n\"Looks like they are in Trisha\" \n\n\"It...There appears to be gunshots resounding from the building Trisha, This might indeed be a terrorist movement. The gun shots seem to be getting closer now. They seemed to have died down now.\"\n\nShortly after the swift firefight the Police team tried reaching the Swat units.\n\n\"Trisha, it seems that the Police are having some difficulty reaching their guys inside. Im going back to talk with...Wait, whats that?\"\n\nThe camera pans back to the door where a raccoon is walking out, dragging what appears to be some sort of lab equipment.\n\n\"Trisha, the escaped raccoons seem to be exiting the building, and the police are leveling their guns at it.\"\n\nThe raccoon stood there for a moment looking at the crowd. Then barked some eerily English sounding barks back inside.\n\nTwo more walked out, holding lab equipment. They leveled the equipment toward the crowd, then bathed them in Gamma Rays.", "All around him, Jon hears the caw of the crows as they fly overhead. He ducks into a dilapidated shed, hiding under the fallen roof. He knows that if the crows hear him they will begin hunting for him. Overhead, a crow lands in the Live Oak. Soon, a murder of ten join him. Jon doesn’t understand them, despite the last twenty years of running from them. As he tries to flatten himself against the wall, the rotten wood disintegrates and Jon falls to the ground, exposed to the black horde above him. The murder stoops down and surround the fallen man.\nThe ground is cold and hard; it is nearly dawn. The air is rank with the sweet, cruel smell of rot. As she tries to move, Liz finds that she is being restrained. She pulls hard but the sharp pain in her hip causes her to scream in pain. It is still too dark in the room for her to see, but the sore on her hip is oozing. Liz pleads with her captors for them to release her. As she shouts again, the person in the room next to her whispers for her to be quiet.\n\n“You need to stop”, the unknown person tells her. “They will come and shut you up if you don’t do it yourself.” \n\n“What are you talking about?” Liz asks, not understanding what is truly going on.\n\n“There was a man down the hall that kept calling for them last night,” he explains. “After you passed out, he began calling out in pain. He plead with them to let him go. The birds just gathered outside the cage, staring at him. Finally, they flew into the cage and attacked. He flailed and swung at them, but his gangrenous arms and legs were useless. The strips of muscle and sinew flapping in the air only enticed the birds more. He stopped crying after 25 minutes. You could hear him grow louder and angrier until finally he stopped,” the man continues. \n\nLiz began to cry as she finally understood her fate. She had been brought here as a subject to of their studies. Before her, family members had all volunteered to submit. They had all hoped to spare those that they left behind. The stories passing around the remaining humans were that the birds were trying to revitalize the human race. For decades the crows had hunted them. Eventually only a few hundred thousand humans survived. They were relegated to the deserts, harsh Northern climates and the countless barely habitable islands of the Pacific. To the surprise of the entire human world, the crows began to come out against them. Every morning the crows came out from their hiding places and attacked. They were ruthless. At first, they only picked off the weak and old. Eventually though, they showed signs that no one expected. They attacked in murderous death squads. Millions of them blackened the sky. They used tools to knock out the electrical grid and waited for their prey to begin to turn against their neighbors. Millions died at the hands of another human. The crows continued to attack, killing off towns slowly. \n\nThe wind of destruction that followed was even more unexpected. The crows came at them with weapons beyond human comprehension. They wiped out entire regions in a single day. The humans that escaped were ill-equipped for survival. Humans were rounded up and ripped apart, becoming food for crows all over the world. As the population was destroyed, the crows realized that their main food supply needed to be saved. \n\nThey told the humans that they no longer sought to kill them. Humans everywhere volunteered for study. The population was growing but in horrible conditions. The humans were fenced into huge farms. They were fattened and kept by the tens of thousands in dirty paddocks. As they became too fat to walk, they were brought into the air conditioned, sterile buildings. They were given water and told to wait for further study. \n\nLiz was one of these people. She hadn’t gained weight as the crows expected. Watching people disappear around her made Liz worry that something terrible was happening. She came in willingly hoping to find out what was going on. A crow came into her room and used a small syringe to inject something into her hip. As she began to fall asleep she heard a group of crows flutter into the room. She felt her flesh being ripped from her hands and feet but couldn’t move. They had paralyzed her. \n\nNow, she was unable to escape because her limbs were lashed to the ground. Her feet and hands screamed out in pain. As the room brightened she lifted her head and saw that her hands and feet were no longer attached to her body. She could see a brownish-red fluid was accumulating on the floor next to her left hip. Her shirt was stiff and stuck to her hip. She could hear the flutter of wings as the door to her room creaked open. In came several crows. The dropped onto her face and chest. The last thing that she heard was the whole murder cawing as they methodically ripped her apart. \n\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 3 ]	[ "1470024908", "1470030355", "1470027571" ]
	[WP] The fate of Humanity rests on the results of a single game of Jenga	0	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Just before Jaksud signaled for launch, his informant grabbed his attention.\n\n\"They have responded to our demands.\" Grikor motioned him to come view his monitor. \"They wish to negotiate.\"\n\n\"Negotiate? On what terms? The war has crippled them; they have no legs to stand on. Victory is imminent, and I would prefer we reach a peaceful surrender than launching any missiles.\" Jaksud began to pace the bridge of his ship.\n\n\"They wish to challenge us in a way that is different,\" Grikor muttered. \"They want to prove that they deserve to exist.\"\n\n\"And exactly how do they plan to prove this?\"\n\n\"Jenga.\"\n\nJaksud crossed his arms and looked at the floor. Jenga was an ancient game that every civilization was aware of, yet no one knew of it's origins. It required skill, intelligence and patience. Things Jaksud and the rest of his species held dearly within their beings.\n\n\"Very well,\" he said as he returned to his chair. \"We will accept their challenge.\"\n\nGrikor nodded to the Chief Materializer, Skawd, who then began typing away on his control panel.\n\n\"Let this moment in time be the deciding factor of the survival of an entire species,\" Jaksud announced.\n\nThe ship sent a beam that began construction on the surface of the earth.\n\n\"This single game will either make this civilization, or ultimately break them.\"\n\nThe ship finished the structure. It stood fifteen thousand feet tall. It was made up of humongous Jenga blocks the size of asteroids. The ship could remove each piece with a tractor beam with ease. It was up to mankind to forge their own means of removing the pieces.\n\nIf the tower were to fall, the massive crash would wipe all life from the face of the earth.\n\n\"Let us begin. They have fifty years to make the first move.\"" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1470029021", "1470039019" ]
	[WP] God is hearing prayers for the first time	14	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "“Would you like to add the sports package?” a voice on the phone questioned, “It would only be an additional $9.99 on top of your monthly bill.”\n\n“Uh… Yeah, that sounds good”, God replied in a booming voice as he sat upon his couch with an open box of pizza resting upon his chest, “Actually, wait… is the sports package just a bunch of crappy ESPN channels or will I get something good like… uh…NBA.TV and Redzone?”\n\n“Yes, sir… so the sports package will give you access to all the sports channels including Redzone and NBA.TV”, the salesperson responded, “But will also come with ESPN and other sports related content… would that be okay sir?”\n\nGod shimmied his way up using his back muscles until he was seated upright, and then removed his baseball cap and put it on backwards, “Is there any way I could just Redzone and few select channels without all the other crap?”\n\n“Sorry, sir”, the salesperson responded quickly, “Unfortunately, Redzone and other various programs only come as part of our sports package.”\n\n“Uhhh…Yeah, sure”, God replied while throwing his head back, “I’ll just take the full sports package then, I guess.”\n\n“Okay, sir…great”, the salesperson responded, “So I have you down for the double-play bundle which includes our high-speed internet and cable package, along with the additional charge for the sports package… will that be all sir?”\n\n“Yes”, God replied in a defeated tone.\n\n“Okay”, the salesperson responded, “…but I do see here that you currently have a landline through our triple-play service… would you like to renew this deal and keep this line or just go ahead with the double-play bundle and drop that line?”\n\nGod threw the pizza box onto the coffee table and the swung his feet off of the couch and onto the floor. Twisting his head to the side, he contemplated the existence of such a line before replying, “I don’t have a landline… at least… No, no… I know I don’t have a landline through your service.”\n\n“Sir”, the salesperson responded, “It says right here that you have a landline through our services… now if you’d like to cancel that service, then I’d be happy to do that for you.”\n\n“Look, I am God! God dammit!” God replied, “I know I don’t have a landline.”\n\n“Well, sir”, the salesperson responded, “In our notes…it says here that you created a landline a little over 2,000 years ago in order to keep in touch with your son… on a place called Earth…perhaps you forg…”\n\n“Holy shit! I’ve got to go” God interrupted before hanging up the phone.\n\nGod lept of off the couch and ran up the nearby stairs, making a left down the hallway once he reached the top. He continued down the hall until he reached a door on the left and threw it open.\n\n“Jesus”, God bellowed, “Did you know we have a landline?”\n\nJesus was laying stomach first upon his bed, slowly kicking his feet in the air behind him. He was resting upon both of his elbows, while flipping through a magazine. He lifted his head toward his father and responded, “Gosh dad! Don’t you ever knock?”\n\n“Dammit Jesus!” God replied, “This is my house and if I want to enter a room, then God damn will… and if you don’t like it then you can go get your own place.”\n\n“Oh, I will!” Jesus responded, “And when I do… you’ll miss me!”\n\nGod chuckled before replying, “You’ve gotta get a job before you can do that”\n\n“I said I’m looking!” Jesus responded, “Just nothing really interest me… I wanna do something I love and not some cruddy nine to five like everyone else.”\n\nGod chuckled again, “…Hell, with that attitude, you’d have a better chance building one yourself, but I doubt that shitty building technique the humans taught you will even pass code around here.”\n\n“You just don’t get it Dad!” Jesus replied, “It’s not the same as when you were a kid… it’s harder on us nowadays.”\n\n“Harder, Ha!” God replied, “My day makes yours look like a daycare.”\n\nThere was slight lull in the conversation as Jesus didn’t look up from his magazine and stopped moving. Then he looked up at God with teary eyes and exclaimed, “I’m just asking for a little support and understanding…Okay? I mean things haven’t ever been the same between Mom and me since we left Earth…”\n\nGod let out a large sigh while looking down at the floor. His hand ran up and down the framing of the door a few time before he looked back at Jesus.\n\n“I’m sorry… you’re right”, God started, “I didn’t even want to get into this… I just came up here to ask if we had a landline… the people over at the cable company says we do.”\n\nThe facial expression on Jesus’s face changed as he swung his feet around onto the floor and looked away from God outside the bedroom window. They didn’t exchange words for a few moments before God realized something was up.\n\n“Jesus…” God continued, “Do you know something about this damn landline?”\n\n“Maybe”\n\n“Maybe?” God replied fiercely.\n\n“Okay, so I know about it”, Jesus replied innocently as turned around to face his father, “…but I swear its not that big a deal.”\n\n“Deal?” God replied, “So there is some sort of DEAL?\n\n“No, no”, Jesus replied, “Just a bunch of humans asking for small, meaningless favors now and again.”\n\n“Favors? What kind of favors?”\n\n“You know, favors”, Jesus replied, “Sometimes I help them out… others I ignore…”\n\n“YOU fulfill their request?” God replied, “Jesus…”\n\n“Father, I know… But it’s not that big…”\n\n“Not that big?” God replied, “Jesus, its fraud… Oh my God, if the company finds out about this then.”\n\n“They won’t”, Jesus assured him, “They have sooo many lifeforms on sooo many planets to worry about, that they would never be concerned.”\n\n“You better damn hope so!” God replied, “What if this is why I got passed up for promotion last month… Jesus, I swear if this effects my performance reviews then you’re out of here.”\n\n“I was trying to help”, Jesus replied, “I swear… I took good care of them… I actually really like this line of work.”\n\n“Just show me where the damn landline is so we can sort this out”, God demanded.\n\nJesus sheepishly stood up and walked to one side of the bed and pulled out a phone from underneath.", "As god sat down for the first time since he created time, resting in his hand woven chair in his glorious palace, voices began fading in and out of his head. \"What is this\", God remarked, \"I thought all there was in the universe was what is around me?\n\nSitting there, he reached up to his head with his hand rubbing it to try and calm the voices running through his head. At this moment, with each rub, it would clarify one voice deafening all of the others. \"God, why did mommy have to go? Why did she have to leave me? Amen.\" came a child's voice through his mind. \"God, I ask for forgiveness for my deeds. It was wrong of me to drink, I did not mean to kill her, please let me trade places with her, please god rid me of this guilt\" came the plea's of a man who had broken down crying. \n\nGod clutched his head, leaning forward in his chair, \"Something is suffering in this universe?\" he asked himself. \"Why would they be suffering, I thought I was alone.\" He rubbed his head again, this time intensifying the prayers he was receiving, \"Oh father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Oh heavenly father, we are saddened you took this mother from us and we pray that you are looking out for her two sons\" came the prayer from a preacher, a disciple of God. \n\n\"This suffering, is there nothing I can do to help?\" I need to do something, something to prevent this suffering\" god quipped as more prayers came flooding in. \"Oh lord, look over our nation in the spirit of the revolution. May you guide us away from tyranny and in the efforts to preserve our religious freedom from the British Empire. Protect us to avoid persecution in thy name so we shall be able to spread your word across the land. Amen.\"\n\n\"Oh heavenly father, take me into your loving arms so I may no longer suffer from illnesses and pain, accept me into your everlasting kingdom oh lord, I am ready.\" And at this very moment, God decided he needed to prevent the suffering of these other beings whom he had apparently created. He stood up, abruptly and interrupting the other voices, and reached out towards the last voice he heard.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nShe laid there, immobile in the hospital bed hearing the constant beeping of the life monitor with her family weary from the week long battle she had endured, wanting the suffering to end. She looked up, eyes opening from the slumber that had overcome her for the past 2 days to see a bright light on the other side. She reached out, tugging the cords out that were stuck inside of her to touch gods hand, to caress what she thought was salvation. \n\nThe mother woke up, jolting upwards and waking her husband from the sleep they were trying to catch only to leap forward to the bedside of the grandma. Amazed at what was happening, to see her wake up and point up to the sky they called for the nurse to see what was happening.\n\nShe laid there, one arm extended towards the ceiling. She began to move once more, this time extending both arms outward, away from her body and began moving her arms ever so slightly as if she were flying. \n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nGod had instructed his angels to save all of those who died, to welcome them into his kingdom. He had instructed them to fly down and whisk away those who died, to offer their souls the eternal comfort he so enjoyed within the kingdom he created. His angels agreed to this, and as god turned away he said, \"Gabriel, look over my kingdom.\"\n\nGabriel replied, \"But why?\"\n\n\"It is time I suffer like these voices I hear in my head, it is time I give myself up and suffer for them. I have created them, and I failed them by allowing them to go through such agony. I will be gone for an unknown amount of time, to give myself up at some point in their history to let them know I am here for them and they can find comfort in the afterlife.\" God said in a weary voice, \"I can not sit here idly and let them go through the torment many of them do without acting.\"\n\nGabriel, now standing at his side said, \"We will be here when you get back, with many of those who have died and will die here and waiting.\"\n\nGod then turned towards Earth, and gave himself up to be born into mortal form to suffer as much as the voices he had heard inside of his head.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nAs the grandma lay there, with her son, her cousins, her grand children and hospital staff standing over her pleading with her to wake up, she laid down her arms. With her last breath, she whispered \"I am, at peace\", as the monitors let out a long, continuous beep, and the angels whisked her away to God's kingdom.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nSo, I don't do much writing. In fact, I think this MAY be my first actual writing in this sub but I had such a good idea (At least, in my opinion) I just had to write. I combined some factual things with some obviously fiction things.\n\nThe reason I felt compelled to write this is because my Grandma passed away in the exact same fashion as I wrote about the Grandma dying here. All of the actions in the story were done by my grandma as she laid there dying. I wrote this because I thought I could write the other side of her death, to give comfort and to entertain myself.\n\nCorrect me on my grammar, I always accept criticisms because how else can you get better? Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.", "God the almighty creator of the universe, He who brought forth existence from nothingness and in seven days fabricated all of time and space from the ether of the void, leaned back in his office chair and sighed deeply. \n\n\"It can't be that bad.\" He said to Gabriel who was sitting across the office with his head buried in his hands, \"Wasn't I just down there? I think they would have said something if they were having any problems.\" Gabriel looked up, his face the color that a face can only get when the wearer of said face has just realized he has an inconceivably tremendous mess to clean up. \n\n\"You were there over 2000 years ago. That's quite a long time for them.\" said the angel, \"It hasn't struck you as odd that all this time you haven't gotten anything from them? Anything at all?\" The angel stood up and paced around the room. God leaned back in his chair further still and laced his fingers behind his head. He planted his feet up on the desk and found himself to be quite comfortable. Being an omnipresent being it was easy for Him to relax due to the fact that while he was here in his office, he was also simultaneously everywhere in the universe excluding his office and presently everywhere in the universe excluding his office was far more pleasant because only here was he being scolded for missing every prayer humanity had sent him since the dawn of their existence because they had somehow ended up in the spam folder of his email. \n\n\"Well we may as well have a look at what they have to say.\" said God. He began scrolling through the messages skimming over the prayer subjects as he went. \"I'm sure they've just asked for a few favors here and there, no big deal.\" Gabriel scowled as he moved in to read over God's shoulder and for a moment God considered granting his angels the ability to be in all places at once as well so they wouldn't have to be so uptight all the time. After a moment he thought to himself, no then I would never be able to have any fun. \n\n\"Well so much for leaving food growing out of the ground and mucking about in all the fields and oceans, they seem to be quite hungry all the time,\" said Gabriel, \"and every few centuries some group of fellows comes up and starts killing a bunch of people.\" Even God couldn't help feeling concerned as he scrolled through the eighteen billionth page of prayers with the name Hitler in the subject line. Perhaps this was a bit of an issue after all, he thought. \n\n\"Well what can we do now?\" asked God \"I suppose some form of apology is in order.\"\n\n\"I haven't the faintest idea,\" replied Gabriel, \"You made them, what do they like?\"\n\nGod thought for a moment and then decided he had an idea that might just make everything right.\n\nLater that day on every continent and in every country an apple tree sprung forth from the ground, branches heavy with plump, ripe apples. Posted on each was a note which read, \"Sorry about missing all your prayers, know you guys like these so they're totally cool to eat now. We're good right?\" -God\n\nUpon eating one of the apples one would find they had suddenly acquired a great deal of knowledge of the world around them. Utilizing this sudden collective leap forward in knowledge, humanity began making great strides in science and technology and before long had ultimately concluded that no God in fact existed and it was science that had all the answers all along. Despite Gabriel's insistence that He pursue the matter further, God found this to be a reasonably satisfying conclusion to the entire ordeal.\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 5 ]	[ "1470037288", "1470069516", "1470067413", "1470044776" ]
	[WP] Yeah, I know I have superpowers. But I’m not interested in being a superhero or a supervillain. Stop bothering me.	10	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Being an introvert is tough. Especially when everyone around you constantly asks to see you \"do the thing where you levitate above the ground without touching it\" or \"lift up an object using your mind again\". It's tiring, and I wish everyone stopped caring.\n\nThere was this one time where I was just walking down to the local supermarket to buy some groceries, and this kid, couldn't have been more than 9 or 10, was screaming at the top of his lungs for me to lift him into the air using my \"magical mind powers\", as I've labeled them. Anyways, he created a huge scene, and now I only get my groceries from the superheroes who work at AmazonFresh and bring me fresh food to my door.\n\nMy super powers will never stop being a challenge I suppose. It's more of a burden than anything else, and it's all because I happened to be walking by a burning apartment building one day, when I saw a cat on the window sill. And I did what any good person would do; I levitated him to the ground using my \"magical mind powers\". As it turns out, the ever growing fascination with people being on their smart-phones 24/7 allowed for three different video angles of me levitating the cat to the ground. Over 27,000,000 combined views within the first week of the videos being posted to YouTube. After that, it was chaos. I couldn't even open the window of my small studio apartment without seeing flashes from cameras and people with megaphones screaming,\n\n\"Care for an interview?\"\n\n\"Can you give us a demonstration?\"\n\n\"We will make you famous!\"\n\nIt got to the point where I hired an (annoyingly starstruck) PR lady to take care of all of the incoming invitations I had to all of these universities, labs, and demonstration events. The President even wanted to meet me. But I turned them all down, and to this day I still am. \n\nA thought that never leaves my mind is how I could have prevented this all from happening. I could have just not saved that cat. Would I have felt guilty about it? Sure I would've. But I'm glad I saved it. Maybe one day I'll have a radical change of mind; a new perspective on how I view my powers, and how I could use them for good. But for right now, I'm fine with using them to open the fridge without all of the extra effort of using my hands, and browsing Reddit without my hands on the mouse.\n\n____\n\n*Sorry if this story wasn't really that good. I never write stories, but something about this prompt inspired me to go for it." ]	[ 1, 8 ]	[ "1470076800", "1470080141" ]
Feel free to interpret the man however you want, as I did not specify that the man had to be from the 17th century :P	[WP] In the middle of Times Square, a futuristic time machine manifests without warning. However, a strange man dressed in 17th century garb emerges from the door, and not the typical futuristic time traveler that most people expected.	8	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Times Square, a beautiful bustling neon city street, it was 8pm and people were everywhere, the glow from the giant screens illuminating the people as they crossed the busy intersections.\nA loud noise like the sound of ripping pants when you bend down too low tore through the air. The world seemed to stop, people stood in their tracks and looked toward a slowly growing light, tendrils of energy licking the ground.\nPeople started to turn and run, the vacuum of the newly rent space pulled people closer to it even as they tried to escape, paper and other light objects flew in all directions.\nSuddenly the opening shot out a meter and then closed on itself, all the electronics in the area blew like an EMP bomb had just been let off, sparks rained down in the pure darkness and the city was without light.\nAll that could be seen was a thrumming blue light and a slightly illuminated man sitting in a buggy of some sort.\nThe silence was deafening, people were way too scared to know what to do.\n“Well that was rather theatrical wasn’t it?” the man said out loud, smoke starting to pour out from his vehicle.\nThe power came on just as he jumped out of his buggy and stood posing looking up at the screens flickering back on.\n“Wow!” the man dressed in the garb of the renaissance remarked “these giant buildings! These giant panels of moving artworks!”\nHis head moved from left to right, soaking in all he could.\nSirens started to approach; police would be here any second alerted by the crowds and local police calling for backup.\n“These machines coming towards me, what are…?” he said rudely interrupted by the police drifted onto the scene and shouting over megaphones\n“Oh I see… I guess we stay primitive for a lot longer then, a shame.” He said backing up to his cart.\nA few men in black started to appear out of the shadows drawing oddly shaped hand weapons.\nThe man from another time touched his vehicle and smiled.\n“Allons-y!” He ejaculated as the air around him seemed to fold into itself and swallow him whole.\n" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1470087259", "1470117572" ]
	[WP] You are the frustrated concierge of a haunted hotel. You're about to perform an amateur exorcism, when the spooks send someone to negotiate.	4	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "The apparition clears its throat. \"Mr Werner, I'd like to introduce myself.\" \n\nGreat. Great, this is fucking... it's wearing a Daffy Duck tie for crying out loud. Not only has this thing completely ruined my wall again, it doesn't even have the decency to dress like a functioning adult. Christ. They could pay me double the CEO's salary and it wouldn't be enough. \n\n\"My name is Albert North.\" The ghost in the tacky tie extends a hand and I go to take it out of habit before I realise. Right. Can't shake hands with a ghost. Wouldn't want to shake hands with this badly dressed moron anyway. Albert North, Useless Spirit, looks slightly frazzled, and continues speaking. \n\n\"Mr Werner, I represent the spirits of this hotel. Your exorcism preparation has not escaped our attention, and I've been sent to draw up a truce. You see, if we were to be exorcised, it would be very difficult for us t-\"\n\n\"Difficult? For you!?\" I can't help it, I basically shriek it at him. \"Three times! Three times today I've had ectoplasm dripping from the ceiling in Room 204! Someone is haunting the main phone line and nobody can make bookings right now except via fax! Fax, Albert! It's 2016! That decaying hand keeps laying out on the pool chairs and it's really freaking out the guests and guess who has to deal with those complaints, Albert! I do! I get paid eight dollars an hour to chase whoever it is that likes to throw Pepto Bismol at people out of the first aid office! But ohhhhh, it's difficult for you! My apologies! Jesus!\" \n\nAlbert sighs, and I kick the wall a little. It hurts, and I resent him for that.\n\n\"When we get exorcised,\" he says, patiently, \"we have to fill out a Displaced Spirit form. It's seventeen pages long, and even after you've submitted it there's no guarantee you'll be rehomed. It's a long, bureaucratic process, and nobody likes it. Over two hundred spirits reside at this hotel, Mr Werner. That's thirty-four hundred pages of paperwork, and at the end of those thirty-four hundred pages will be up to a hundred and fifty homeless spirits.\" \n\n\"So?\" I spit. It took me ages to find a priest willing to bless the water in our sprinkler system, I don't want this pathetic accountant-looking motherfucker ruining my exorcism now. \"Why should I feel bad about that? You guys are ruining my life!\" \n\n\"We'd like to come to an agreement, Mr Werner,\" Albert continues. \"We realise that one or two of our more boisterous residents have been causing some disturbances for you, and we'd like to lay down some terms with you. A tenancy agreement, if you will.\"\n\nAlbert reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a document. He clears his throat again. Christ. Why does a ghost have this much phlegm? \n\n\"Article one,\" he reads, \"Brian will reattach his hand and stop leaving it by the pool. Failure to do so will result in his eviction. Agree?\" I nod, and he continues. \"Articles two through seven, all spirits will remain confined to the non-physical plane during the peak season, including all holidays, with the obvious exception of Halloween, and with the individual exception of Rufus, who haunts the basement. We feel his presence there is fitting, but he has agreed not to get ectoplasm on the maintenance men. Agree?\"\n\n\"Rufus?\" \n\n\"He likes to swing the door open as people walk by.\" \n\n\"Ah. I thought we had a draught. No, he's fine. Agreed.\" \n\n\"Article eight, on a nominated day of the year during summer, the pool will be closed to living inhabitants. Article nine, we will stop interrupting communications devices and disrupting essential services. Article ten, no further access to the first aid office will be allowed, on the condition that Pepto Bismol Ghost can sometimes join Rufus in the basement. He's a jerk, we don't like dealing with him.\" \n\n\"Fine, fine,\" I say, waving a tired hand at Albert. \"Is that it? Because I'd like to add a clause about keeping your ectoplasm to yourself. That is one hell of a stain we're going to have to clean off the wall.\" \n\nAlbert nods, and adds it to his list. \"We appear to be done, Mr Werner. Thank you for understanding.\"\n\n\"Your tie is ugly,\" I tell him as he turns to go.\n\n\"I know,\" he says. \"I'm glad we got this sorted out.\"" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1470125553", "1470150207" ]
	[WP] It took years, but they proved it wasn't cigarettes. It was the coolness that causes cancer.	85	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "It was when my beloved Pap-Pap died that I began to do research into cigarettes and cancer. All of the doctors, Professors, and media said that they are addictive and harmful. I found that it wasn’t the smoking it was the coolness. I tested thousands of smokers and they all had the same gene that causes the cancer, I call it c001-N3ss. I thought to myself about what other non-smokers could have this chemical, so I contacted Will Smith.\n\nMe: “Mr. Smith, thank you for meeting with me.”\n\nWS: “No problem, I am always glad to help with cancer research.”\n\nMe: “What I need is a blood and saliva sample to see if you have this gene that may cause cancer, I call it c001-N3ss, what made me think of you is your work on the fresh prince and in the show business industry in general made you pretty cool.” \n\nWS: “Uhh. Sure. And if I have this gene will I get cancer?”\n\nMe: “I have no idea.”\n\nMr. Smith gave me his blood that day and he indeed had the dreaded gene. 3 years later he was diagnosed with cancer. \n\nI went to CNN, FOX and CBS to spread the word that all reletivly cool people sould get tested for this gene. \n\nIn 10 years we lost very cool people, Steven Fry, Jennifer Lawrence and most of all Steve Buscemi.\n", "Tommy sits on the side-walk of his High-school's smokers corner.\n\nHe takes his second-period puff with his cheer leading captain girlfriend. It's the quarter-back of the football team dating the beautiful cheer-leader. As cliche as you'd expect.\n\nThe corner is theirs. Even the popular kids won't mess with the coolness of Tommy-Lee and his prestigious girlfriend. \n\nThis day, a nerd walks by, accidentally stumbling in the same vicinity as Tommy-Lee. His nerd levels are as cliche as the jock and his beauty. He waddles, scrawny legs trying to support him, weak arms clenching books, and taped glass frames. Walter, is most definitely not cool.\n\n\n\"What the fuck do you think you're doing kid?\" The jock lifts his buttocks off the curbside, which is good because the cement has been causing strong-armed Tommy weekly rectal bleeding.\n\n\"I..I just need to get to..chemistry.\" Poor Walter stutters, eyes glued to pavement.\n\n\"I..I..I..Jusssst need to...chemisshtry.\" Tommy brilliantly mocks his lisp, or at least he thinks it's brilliant.\n\n\"Here's what you're going to do twer -- twer -- tw --\" Tommy can't finish his sentence. His square jaw line crumbles under the worrisome terror crossing over his face. \n\nHe takes a stress puff from the cancer-stick. \n\nHis squealing smoke riddled-breath gasps one last\"help.\" before he crumbles to the Hemorrhoid inducing curb. \n\nIt turns out tests conducted on Tommy-Lee confirmed the cancer causing agent of cigarettes was the coolness.\n\nEvery thing changed after that day. Every thing changed forever. The discovery quickly reached the social-media, the papers, the blogs, and websites. Everything is different now, especially at Tommy's old kingdom, Ridge Mount Secondary.\n\nWalking along the sidewalks of Ridge mount secondary we see a different cliche these days. The football fields have been turned to libraries, the chess club has month long wait lists, more portables were needed for applied chemistry classes, and the once prestigious smokers corner of Tommy-Lee sits a new master. There, studying on the sidewalk of unforgiving anal bleeding, the now least cool place in the entire school, where strong-jawed jocks gawk in awe, beautiful teen girls admire, and nerds smile onward, wondering, if one day, they'll be as twerpy, scrawny, nerdy, and as cancer-free by far, as the legend, hemorrhoid riddled, Walter Spack.", "I sat in my grandpa's rocking chair as I became reminiscent of the legacy he left behind. Years of smoking, and he finally kicked the bucket. I began to contemplate life, as well as the many poisons in cigarettes. Perhaps it wasn't the arson coupled with formaldehyde, but rather something... Worse.\nMy grandpa was the only person I've ever known who could rock a fedora AND wife beater at the same time. Whenever he walked into the room, it was almost as if you could hear airhorns accompanied by 12 year olds screaming \"wumbo combo.\" \n\nThat man was a genius, and Good Lord willing, I'll go out the same way he did- with hookers and cocaine.", "Joe coughed into his hoof as he walked out onto the stage, trying to keep his legs steady. ‘Keep it together Big Man, you’ve fought all your life for this.’ For many in the audience of press this was the first they had seen of the once-famous spokesman and there was a murmur of quiet conversation as he settled behind the podium. \n\n“He looks so thin…”\n\n“I remember in his hey-day…”\n\n“…never had seen him in corduroy back then…” \n\nThe words whispered up to Joe and the last ones stung, he still resented having to wear… these clothes. He cleared his throat and prepared himself, ready to come clean. “Hey there cats, how’s it…” He paused, holding up a hoof to stop himself. Speaking like that again made his chest hurt, but it had been automatic. \n\n“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, welcome and thank you for coming here today. Many of you know me from my former employment as a spokesman for a certain brand of cigarettes, but of course I have not been associated with that particular company for… some time.” \n\nThe flashes continued sporadically, but Joe ignored them, his eyes glued to the speech through the thick black rimmed glasses that covered forty percent of his face. “In the 1980s I was forced to retire due to overwhelming medical evidence that smoking was harmful and it was felt that I, as the epitome of cool, was unsuitable for a national advertising campaign.” \n\nHe leafed through the next two cards, they continued along this line, but they used many words to say one simply thing. “They were wrong.” \n\nThe murmur grew and Joe raised his voice. “Wrong about my influence and wrong, most importantly about the cause of cancer. Cigerettes, I am pleased to announce today, have no link with any harmful or negative effects.” He sighed. “But I was harming someone. Myself.” \n\nJoe clicked a slideshow to display a series of X-rays, his body, riddled with cancer. “This was not due to smoking, but due to one thing. Being cool gives you tumours.” \n\nQuestions began to be shouted but Joe held up a hoof to quiet them. “Please, ladies and gentlemen there will be time at the end for questions. What I can tell you is that I am in remission and as you can tell I have taken steps to become as uncool as possible.” \n\nJoe stepped out again to show his outfit off more clearly. Shiny white trainers fed into skinny jeans, that ended with an old looking plaid shirt. His thick rimmed glasses were topped by a flat cap, pulled low over his ace. \n\n“Looking like a dork is the only thing keeping me alive now, but with your help we can finally get research into the causes and a proper treatment!” He paused, but this time there was only an uncomfortable silence. “What?” \n\nNear the front a journalist held up her phone and handed it to him, a search showing on screen. Joe looked, puzzled. “What the hell is a hipster?” \n\nThe phone fell from his hoof as he clutched his chest as his cancer surged. The words came out painfully. \"No, when did this stuff get....\" \n\nHe pulled at the shirt, popping open the vintage buttons to expose his cravat, but it only made things worse and he fell to his knees. His eyes bulged, then rolled back for the last time. A small puddle of vaping fluid formed around his head in a halo. \n\nJoe Camel was dead. \n" ]	[ 1, 1, 3, 9, 35 ]	[ "1470134545", "1470153931", "1470154102", "1470144901", "1470138957" ]
	[WP] You realize you have the ability of turning your body on autopilot and do any tasks exactly right while you watch from a 3rd person view. You set it on getting a date with a girl you like but things don't go as you expected.	38	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", " I had never really understood it very well, but ever since I was 16, I was just aware that there was a pool of something. It built up slowly, faster when I was doing something difficult or intense. I can still remember the first time I became aware of it, when I got into a fight with the local Bully, Soren Thompson. \n\nI can't even really remember what had started the fight; he'd wanted something from me, and for the first time I'd had the balls to stand up to him. Between homework and lunch money, he'd taken a lot from me over the years. Once, he even managed to threaten me into giving him my favorite shirt, which he promptly ripped in two.\n\nWhatever he had asked, I had decided I'd had enough. So when he approached me on the lawn outside the lunch area, said whatever asinine line about what he wanted from me, I just told him \"No\". That was when I first felt my 'meter'. It felt like an anticipation. Like the air around me was heavy and pregnant. Ponderous, waiting to give birth to whatever happened next. \n\nHe swung at me, but I sidestepped. I could have mistaken it easily for adrenaline, but the feeling moved from ponderous to downright heavy. That was when I noticed the knife come out. He pushed himself up from his stumble, and I saw the glint of sharp metal flashy way. I stumbled back, and felt a hot line on my arm. He reeled back to take another swipe, and as he did, I felt time crawling. Slowing. I was in a slow moving vehicle as six inches of flickblade pushed out towards my chest. The weight of the air around me was palpable. It was like I could grab hold of it... And I did.\n\nAt that moment, I found myself outside my body. It was quick, that moment. I collapsed, going limp like a ragdoll, but Soren kept going, right through the space I'd been occupying. He tripped on my feinted body. He went tumbling, and the flickblade meant for me found its way deep into his right eye. And then, just like that, I was back in my own body, limp and bleeding onto the grass.\n\nThe fallout hadn't been pretty, but all things considered, it was the best possible outcome from the fight. There were a few witnesses, but none had gotten a very good look at what had happened. Instead, my own wound told the story: he had come at me with a knife. Shock from the injury had made me pass out, and he had done himself in. I'd gotten stitched up, and had been asked to file a police report. I conveniently left out the out of body experience. \n\nI had been forced to talk to a shrink. I just told them that I had been so terrified that I fainted, exactly what they wanted to hear. I didn't miss him or mourn his death. To be honest i never felt a bit bad about it.\n\nAfter that, I could feel the feeling again, building any time I did something right, albeit at a painfully slow rate.\n\nAt that point I managed to fill it a second time, the meter had been full for months. The tipping point, oddly enough had been helping someone out with their groceries, which had split the bag outside the shop. I just felt the heaviness that had been building around me click, and I knew it was full. The heaviness didn't burst this time but instead resolved to a faint pulse in the back of my head, like a glowing option in a video game menu.\n\nI had all but forgotten about the slow, steady throb when it happened. I was walking back to the dorms early in the morning, and the fog was rising off the river ahead of the sunrise. I had felt the scream as much as I heard it. \"GET OFF ME\" she had said, her voice echoing dully through the hazy air from the direction of the foot bridge. I ran towards it.\n\nWhen I got there, I heard more than saw. Two people were struggling down at the edge of the river. I could feel the blood pounding behind my ears, slightly out of synch with the pulsing option. I decided that it had already saved me once in my life, what the hell. I activated it and again had an out of body experience.\n\nThis time it was different. I could feel my awareness in both places at once, and it had the disconcerting feeling of being in some kind of cinematic event. I knew I'd need something in case things turned ugly. I bent over and picked up a smooth river rock the size of a baseball and watched myself as I walked down the hill by the bridge.\n\nThe fog by the river was thick. By the time I'd gotten to the riverbank, the sounds of struggling had quieted. I watched myself pick my way across the big rocks, the s und greedily gobbled by the muffling mist. He hadn't seen me. He fumbled with something in the dark a d I heard a click, dull and mechanical. I struck him on the back of the head with the rock. He grunted but didn't go down; it takes a lot to knock someone out, turns out. I dropped the rock as he turned, and grabbed the barrel of the gun with my left hand. \n\nFrom my point of view, it was hard to spot, but I knew I had jammed my thumb down into the slot for the hammer. He stumbled and pain bloomed in my thumbnail where the heavy lump of metal struck it. I kept pulling the gun in my adrenaline rush, and he lost his balance. I didn't. He let go of the gun and tried to grab at me. I pistol-whipped him in the face with the handle as he twisted. He turned and fell into the river, but I didn't hear him struggle. there was just a splash, and then there was silence enough to hear the choked sobs.\n\nIt turned out that the woman I had saved was the Dean of the university. The guy whose body they found drifting a mile or two down the river was a student that had been recently dispelled over rape charges. I had been given a full scholarship after that, and again, I started letting it build.\n\nIt had been years since I had felt that click again, but I could never erase the memory of ending not one but two lives. It terrified me. After all, kill one bad person on accident, and it's a coincidence. Kill a second bad person, and it's a mark of heroism. Kill a third, and maybe cops think you've developed a taste for it. I couldn't deny that I felt a temptation time and again to use it. I had become desperate, and in my own fear, lonely. So I decided to do an experiment.\n\nI had been drinking at the bar time and again since I'd moved back to my alma mater's town, and I had never seen her there before, but I knew exactly who she was. I hadn't seen her for 6 years, and it had now been ten years since that early morning on the riverbank. Adeline Fuller. She was fully twenty years older than me but there was something about her. She had pushed men away ever since the incident, and I was no exclusion, but then again this was the first time meeting her outside of school. She was strong, reserved, and intellectual, and she had never remarried after the stress of the incident had destroyed her marriage, shortly before I graduated. But I had a secret weapon. Maybe. I drank some liquid courage and then turned on.\n\n\"So Adeline, fancy meeting you here,\" I said as I slid into the chair beside her. In an uncharacteristic move, she turned to me and smiled.\n\n\"Wow, 'my hero'. It's been what...\"\n\n\"Six years,\" I completed. I smiled. \"It's nice seeing you again.\"\n\n\"Yeah. So, I was wondering if you wanted, ya know, to maybe talk over a drink? Ever since... Well... I've always wondered what kind of person you were.\" I was out of body, watching myself fumble this hard. What had I been thinking? I watched myself make a dopey smile, feeling like a complete idiot and having the blush bloom across my face.\n\n\"You know, what the hell... Wanna get out of here?\" Things seemed to be going my way\n\nShe took my hand and lead me out of the bar. She kept to well lit areas, but she seemed pretty carefree for a survivor. As we walked I looked up at the stars. I looked at her.\n\n\"What would you say,\" I asked, \"if I said I had a super power?\"\n\nShe looked pensive. It had been ten years, but she smiled \"ok, I'll bite, where are you going with this?\"\n\n\"So, there's this thing. It builds in me. It builds and builds until I'm all full of it. Then it just kinda sits until I need it. The first time it burst out and a kid who had been bullying me ended up hurting himself. And the second time, I heard someone scream and... Well, you know how that turned out.\" She blanched at the mention of the incident at the bridge.\n\n\"I uh...\" She stammered. This was a bad idea... I hovered outside watching myself cock it all up. Fat super power this was. Why had I even chosen to say that?\n\n\"And both times, someone ended up dead. So, I wondered, what happens when I use it when something life changing rather than life threatening happens. And then I saw you alone over there at the bar.\" I watched as I rubbed the back of my neck.\n\n\"Well, that's a pretty interesting story there,\" she smirked. She rubbed the back of her neck too. \n\nWhere the hell was she going with this, I wondered as she looked up and spoke again. \"So, what would you say if I said I had a super power too?\" She asked, and took the curiosity on my face as a cue. \"You see, ever since that night, I've felt something building. At first I thought it was stress or fear. But on the worst night of my marriage, something in me snapped. I found myself out of body. I wouldn't let him cheat on me one more time. I threw him out on his ass like I knew I always should have... And the. It built again till tonight. When I saw you. And I thought 'what the hell'.\"\n\nI didn't know what to say. I looked up, behind me, and saw... Something... It was next to me, watching the scene play out. So I just kissed her. It was like magic.\n\n\"Wanna be my super hero?\" I asked her. She just smiled, took my hand, and we ran out into the night. It felt right. And even as I hovered outside myself, I could feel a click, and a dull pulse. Tonight would be an interesting one." ]	[ 1, 15 ]	[ "1470149721", "1470168888" ]
	[WP] God just created the earth. It took him 6 days to complete. On the seventh day, he rests. But God days are much longer than Earth days. When God woke up, shit hit the fan.	113	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "YHVH Creation log book.\n\nDay 1: Use compressed matter to initiate \"Big Bang\" effect. Matter distributed. Triggered formation of stellar masses. Guided specific progression of stellar mass in Sector ZZ9 Plural Z A. Small yellow star should suffice for experiment.\n\nDay 2: Guided formation of planetary masses around star. Gas giants established as sweepers. 1st planet too close to primary, excluded from experiment. Specific testing will be done on 2nd, 3rd and 4th planets in system. Additional creation of large moon for 3rd planet. 2 small moons for 4th.\n\nDay 3: Complete cloud cover established on 2nd and 3rd planets, however 2nd appears to be developing runaway \"greenhouse\" effect. Abandoned and inverted for now. 3rd planet landmasses seeded with plants. Growing as predicted. 4th planet does not hold onto cloud cover, will set aside planet for later experiments.\n\nDay 4: Opened cloud cover to make sun, moon and stars visible from 3rd planet's surface. Additional stellar radiation seems to have a positive effect on plant life.\n\nDay 5: Basic animal life added. Started with simple forms in seas. Complex life seemed to develop easily there, some intelligence shown in some mammalian forms.\n\nDay 6: Guided development for life onto land and air. Initial success with reptillian forms, but not sustainable long term. Mammals worked well in the sea and worked even more so on land. Guided one branch of mammal to sentience. They have taken on an appearance not too dissimilar to my own. After a brief experiment with a binary pair, decided to grant the \"humans\" dominion over the planet and let the experiment run on its own for now.\n\nDay 7: Took the day off.\n\nDay 8: Well that was a mistake. These humans are terrible. The mess they have made of things in my day off is almost too much to bear. Their behavior was atrocious and just...unspeakable. One human's extended family seems acceptable to proceed, but the rest will have to go. ", "\"I need status reports now! Gabriel? Where is Gabriel?!\" God demanded as he stepped back into the Situation Cloud. The Angels present were abuzz with activity and all seemed stressed, but their attitudes changed once God appeared. Mixtures of glee, relief and hope showed across their faces. It had been eons since God appeared before anyone.\n\n\"It's you! It's truly, truly you!\" One Angel said with immense joy as God made his way to the Command Chair; a large black cloud-leathe chair fashioned to be the most comfortable seat in existence.\n\n\"Not now Rahmiel. Someone get me Gabriel! And shut that Me-forsaken machine off!\" God cried out in response to the non-stop beeping that had been echoing throughout Heaven without end. \n\n\"B-but the Prayer Machine- You said to keep it on at all costs so that you could respond to your followers' needs! There's currently... Ah, this might be many digits for us but for your Omnipotence it should be fine. Humanity has come up with over-\"\n\n\"Forget it! Shut. It. Down.\" God demanded, he spoke with power and his words made their demand upon the machine. The machine instantly acknowledged the power of God and shut down. For a moment, all Angels across Heaven collectively sighed in relief. One tall and decorated Angel in particular flew through the Situation Cloud, past all the machines, computers, aides and desks and stood at attention in front of God.\n\n\"Angel Gabriel humbly at your command My Lord.\" He said as he bowed. Tears welled up in his eyes from the joy of reuniting with his creator.\n\n\"I need a status update Gabriel. What's happening? I took one day off and Heaven is chaotic! I even have missed calls from Satan and when I try to reach him it won't connect!\"\n\n\"Yes, well, sire, Satan was overthrown in Hell long ago. Apparently a coalition of the most brutal Humans managed to take him out. Hell is their personal playground now.\"\n\nGod raised a hand to his throbbing head. Satan taken out by some Humans? Unbelievable. What was that sadistic pyrophiliac thinking?\n\n\"What about Earth? Every time I try to access Earth's servers I get the worst headache. It's almost as bad as that sleepwalking incident with that Moses figure.\"\n\n\"Yes, well about that. Currently the Earth is inhabited by nearly 8 Billion humans of many races and cultures.\" Gabriel said. God's face blanched. \n\n\"That's ridiculous. It should be higher. Earth has the capacity to sustain much more than that.\"\n\n\"Yes well, not all are living equally my Lord. I'm transferring the data now.\" Within a millisecond, the information shot through the Situation Cloud and was received by God.\n\n\"Why are there people starving?! Why are some people so rich and others have nothing?! Why do they waste so much? What is a McDonald's?!\" \n\n\"Most likely Greed sire. Most Humans only think of themselves and their own, and are not concerned with the affairs of others as long as it does not affect them.\"\n\n\"WHAT?\" God boomed, causing a few Angels to shed feathers in shock.\n\"How many religions and messengers have I sent to them to tell them to do good deeds? What have they been doing all this time?\"\n\nGabriel lowered his eyes for a moment. \"They, uh. Well recently Religion has been a major cause of conflict and war for Humans. I'll send you data on the Crusades and War on Terror now.\" Again the Cloud blinked and again God's head throbbed.\n\n\"WHY ARE THEY KILLING EACH OTHER. NO! NO!\" God yelled to himself. An Angel whimpered from across the Cloud.\n\"NO NO NO NO. WHAT PART OF DON'T KILL DO YOU NOT GET?\" With a final outburst that shook the Heavens God finally calmed down.\n\n\"So, what has Humanity accomplished that is worth saving their species. I worked so hard for 6 days to create their living conditions and it took them 1 to make me regret it all. So, Gabriel, show me one thing that will make me consider letting them continue to exist.\"\n\nGabriel took a deep breath. The souls of billions rested on his shoulders.\n\n\"Here sire, look at this.\" He approached with his cellular phone out. \n\n\"Hmm? What is it? A cartoon ant eater?\"\n\n\"Yes, they're called memes.\" Gabriel handed over the phone to God. Within it's memory was every single successful meme ever created by Humankind.\n\n\"You can't assume that some pictures with a couple lines of Human dialogue would make.. me.. consider..\" God began to say, his words slowing down as he digested each meme he read. Gabriel stood behind him hoping for the best.\n\n\"No one questions why the frog is on a unicycle?\" God asked after a moment of silence.\n\n\"No sire, that's part of the point. You don't necessarily have to explain anything when it comes to memes.\"\n\n\"O shit waddup.\" God replied as he continued scrolling through. After some time passed, God put the phone on his counter and looked up.\n\n\"Well, just like John Cena I did not see this coming. For now, Humanity has avoided being like Bad Luck Brian and will be able to continue to exist. You know, it's for this very type of low quality entertainment that I created dat boi Adam and started Humanity to begin with you know.\"\n\n\"Well in that case sire, allow me to point you to a few other of Humanity's embarrassments- err creations.\" Gabriel responded. A few more Angels flew over with more cellphones. They were labeled '4-Chan', 'Anime n other weaboo trash', 'League of Legends' and 'Tumblr + SJW memories'.\n\n\"That's quite a lot to go through.\" God responded as the cellphones were placed on his desk.\n\n\"Indeed.\" Gabriel responded. \"But I suspect this won't be the end of it.\"\n\nGod nodded as he reached for one of the phones.\n\n\"I can dab to that.\"\n\n" ]	[ 1, 19, 75 ]	[ "1470165082", "1470181618", "1470178941" ]
	[WP] You're a mod for the IRC, or the Inter-dimensional Relay Chatroom. You've had a rough day.	6	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"I just don't understand these clients anymore,\" said the Mod Gonzo as his crackling, robotic voice echoed through the room of the Discordia Lounge.\n\n\"Just get used to it, kiddo,\" as the Eldest One continued to water his lawn by the strange, otherworldly retirement home, \"We all have to deal with the young'uns now and again.\n\nThe Eldest One lied back onto the grass and stared up into the text-lit sky. Flashes of characters and phrases were all scrawled together into a beautifully-etched quilt of profanities and puns, illuminating the night. Gonzo sighed and continued to play with his dice in the middle of the Eldest One's lawn.\n\n\"Get the hell off my lawn,\" said the old man.\n\n\"It's just getting so hard, you know?\" Gonzo continued, \"Just this morning I walked into the usual pound-word channel and all I saw was a bunch of idiots spamming 'tisastick++' over and over again. It was awful.\"\n\nThe Eldest One pulled out his dinosaur hands and manhandled the bot-mod off the lawn and into the riverside. As the bot-mod began to speak, the Eldest One saw a butterfly float behind him, beckoning him to pull out his Hammer of Banishment to smite the pest. Thus, went the Eldest One into the night's horizon, swinging around a fifty-ton hammer as old as himself.\n\nThe Mod Gonzo hummed to himself when he saw her walking by the riverside. She with her deep, blue eyes and lovely tone was walking towards his way. The sight of her always brought a bright light into the young mod's mechanical heart.\n\nHe waved at her, \"Prompty! It's good to see you again-\"\n\nAnd then the river slammed up against the fellow mod and swept her away into the sea, far far away from the land of the Inter-dimensional Relay Chatroom and into the depths of coded nothingness.\n\nA red-haired fellow minding his own business came up to Gonzo, \"Well, hey. How're you doing today, Gonzo?\"\n\n\"Fuck off, Rawr.\"" ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1470187449", "1470188035" ]
	[WP] You return home from work and turn on the TV, only to see in the news that scientists have confirmed that the sun went out, but due to its distance from earth, we still have 8 minutes left before we actually witness it here on earth.	21	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\nIt had been a pretty rough day at work. Idiot customers asking stupid questions, running back and forth to fulfill mundane and menial tasks, the works. I had finally made it home from this nightmare and decided that I would spend the evening relaxing with video games. I plopped down onto the couch and turned on my Xbox, then the TV. I was about to switch the input to \"HDMI 1\" but stopped when I heard the dreaded Emergency Broadcast System tone. My blood ran cold. The screen then cut to a color bar then to a newsroom with a stressed and nervous news anchor. The words I heard hit like bullets. The sun had died. Was that even possible? only 8 minutes of sunlight left globally? I hazarded a look out my window, the sun hanging low in the afternoon sky. \n\nIt didn't take long for the sun to look wrong. In just the two minutes that I had been sitting on my porch, it had dulled, black spots slowly eating away at the precious light. It was bizzare in its beauty. The orange and pink afternoon sky a beautiful climax to the last sunset on Earth. Then, almost like nightfall, the last rays of sunlight went out and the Earth was dark. I still was in awe. Turning on the TV wasn't a help either. It was all stories of riots and crime sprees city, state, nation, and worldwide. It remained this way for the first few days, then the power went out. No one was at the power stations. \n\nI had not experienced darkness like the next few weeks in my entire life. The moon no longer shined in the night sky, only stars dimly lit the dead neighborhood. Then it got colder. I remember hearing stories of how it had snowed in Hollywood and how global warming wasn't really a thing anymore. Months passed. Years. Funny how you don't really notice how much you need something until it's gone..", "\"Well, the sun-killer worked.\" The scientist says, \"Now all we need is to find a way to use it on somebody else's sun!\" \n\"Maybe we should've thought of that before firing it.\" The grizzled government official responded grouchily. \n\"Well, how else were we supposed to test it?\" \n\nI look up outside my window at the crowd of people with their phones pointed into the sky, ready to capture the moment the sun goes out forever.\n\n\"Man, imgur is gonna suck for the next few days.\" I grumble to myself.", "This morning I come in from work sweaty, hot and exhausted. I toss my keys on the kitchen table and jump in the shower.\n\nAs water is streaming down my face and steam is hugging me tightly I go over the events of the night.. what went down, what went wrong, who did I meet, what could I have done better, what do I want to do for the rest of my life.\n\nI have a terrible habit of staying in the shower for far longer than is optimal for my skin.\n\nAfter washing up, I dry off with a Mickey Mouse towel.. I throw the towel in the floor and walk around my bathroom naked. Not that i'm vulgar or indecent but it feels good to sometimes wind down.. to forget about it all.. to be free.\n\nI get ready to brush my teeth and make my way into the living room.. I set the house alarm and turn on the TV.. the first channel that pops up is CNN.\n\nThe headlines say, well you know what they said.\n\nMany scientists, experts and NASA employees are being interviewed about \"What's next?\". The new found enthusiasm and willingness to meet with the nations of North Korea, Iran and Russia is.. odd really. The candidates for president are still running their sleazy ad campaigns and are rambling on about who's better.. you know: \"He may have a spaceship, but I can get you there in one peace\" sort of talk.. you can guess who said that one.\n\nPersonally though, I don't think anything is next. We're all dead anyways.\n\nThe academics with their nice shiny degrees from Harvard and Columbia all beg to differ.\n\nI'm sure that degree from Princeton will work out nicely when we're all in the streets starving to death, hungry and searching for food.. when blood showers. When blood is more common than rain.\n\nI quickly find myself in a daze.. what's next? I ask myself.. what will become of me, what will become of my family, what will become of civilization?\n\nMonths of watching Deep Web Exploration videos have taught me many things, one of which is short, simple and not so sweet.\n\nWe're all animals, we're savages.. we're monsters. Thirsting for the next kill, lusting for the thrill of the hunt.. the next drop of blood, we praise it.. It's why slashers are so popular.\n\nWhat a man will not do when there are no barriers to break and no more boundaries to cross.. when there is no police, no government, no one to stop him from dominating, conquering and spilling blood.\n\nWe have 8 minutes before each and every ray of beautiful sunlight is stricken from the Earth.. i'm not a religious man but that part in the bible about how the living will envy the dead, for they have peace.. it seems we now understand the enigma and open-to-interpretation manner that that book is written in.\n\nThere isn't much more we can do.. the politically correct plan is to wait for our local and state government to come out with a detailed plan to evacuate.. or huddle us into concentration camps in an effort to curb the chaos and madness that will soon erupt.\n\nThe unofficial plan in everyone's mind now is.. there will be a power struggle, there will be panic and chaos..\n\n\"Buy when there's blood in the streets\" my grandfather always said" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 3 ]	[ "1470236203", "1470292249", "1470296968", "1470257103" ]
	[WP] You receive a bizarre text message from your SO. Over the course of the ensuing conversation/fight, you realize your SO is inadvertently texting you their inner thoughts.	69	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Jenny: hi Jake... [Received]\n\nJake: Hey babe...what's up? [Sent]\n\nJenny: i was thinking of staying home for xmas [Received]\n\nJake furrowed his brow. Christmas was 4 months away.\n \n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJenny: we've been going out for dinner lately [Sent]\n\nJenny reluctantly placed her phone next to her laptop. She was done with Thai food. She was also kind of sick of things between her and Jake.\n\nJake Well...that's fine. Kind of a bummer, but if that's what you want [Received]\n\nJenny: ~~while you're here could we talk about~~\n\n\"No,\" she thought, \"Not now.\" Jenny held the delete button and hastily typed a new message.\n\nJenny: alright. i'll make pasta! pick up something for us to drink? [Sent]\n\nJake I'll be on my way [Received]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJake started pacing back and forth. He had taken too long. He hadn't proposed and she was slipping away. \n\nJake: Wine? [Sent]\n\nJenny: no, it's just dinner [Received]\n\n\"What in the world.\" Jake froze. What was happening?\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJenny: i'm sick of Thai food, that's all [Sent]\n\nJake: Do you wanna talk about it? ^Hm. ^Should ^I ^bring ^the ^ring? [Received]\n\nJenny let out a sigh and pressed her forehead against her palm. What was he on about?\n\nJake: I wanted to talk to your dad... [Received]\n\n\"Does...does he know...\" Jenny said aloud. \n\nJenny: about what? [Sent]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJenny: how do you know? [Received]\n\nJake was becoming slightly upset.\n\nJake: Know what? [Sent]\n\nJenny: I'M SICK [Received]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJenny: I'M SICK [Sent]\n\nJenny started tearing up. This isn't how she wanted to handle this.\n\nJake: ...sick? [Received]\n\nJenny: i'm not suppose to make it past February...i don't want you to be around for that [Sent]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJenny: i'm not going to make it past February and i...i just can't make it without you. please don't go. i cannot do this without you [Received]\n\nJake began clenched his teeth. She must have been hiding this for years.\n\nJake: I'll be there soon [Sent]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJake: How could you keep that from me?. [Received]\n\nJenny: i know how it looks. can we please talk [Sent]\n\nJake: you're a bitch for doing this to me [Received]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJake: Yea, I'm almost there [Sent]\n\nJenny: i love you [Received]\n\nJake: Love you too [Sent]\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------\n\nJake: This isn't going to last. [Sent]", "It's just past 4am when I wake again. The hotel bed is comfortable, but something about being away from home keeps me from being properly settled. Squinting, I fumble for my phone. \n\"How many messages?!\" I mutter in disbelief. \nThey're all from my husband, Mark. Something about the sheer volume of texts triggers a paranoid reaction that there has been a terrible accident, or an emergency of some kind. I quickly rejected that idea as I started reading through them. \n\n12:05: \"Ugh, fine, I'll do the laundry. I know she'll appreciate it.\"\n\n12:05: \"How do I even laundry? Where does this powder go?\"\n\n12:06: \"Done! See, I can do this domestic stuff. Pah, and she makes such a big deal about it.\"\n\n12:10: \"I can't hear the TV over the sound of the washing machine. This sucks.\"\n\n12:25: \"Fuck, I'm tired. Time to bash out a cheeky one, then bed. Jeanie at work had a pretty sweet ass in that skirt today. Best. Receptionist. Ever.\"\n\n12:55: \"Shit. Shit shit shit shit.\"\n\n12:56: \"Aw shit. How do I even...?\"\n\n1:00: \"She's going to kill me. Or laugh until she cries. Or both?\"\n\n1:05: \"I legitimately have a room full of bubbles. I'm torn between letting my inner kid out and playing in them, or, I dunno, do something adult?!\"\n\n1:06: \"Are there professionals that deal with this sort of catastrophe?\"\n\n1:10: \"You know, at least she wasn't here to see this. I still have three days. I can sort this out. She will never know.\"\n\n\"Heh,\" I laugh to myself. \"Sure she won't.\"\n\n" ]	[ 1, 12, 22 ]	[ "1470250737", "1470257211", "1470263570" ]
	[WP] You were born with a curse. Everytime someone asks you to do something you have to do it.	5	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I logged into social media for the first time. All I saw were the two words everyone else is so used to, but I never had the chance to see before, and never would again. \"Kill yourself\"" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1470271544", "1470272372" ]
	[WP] A demon falls in love with you.	8	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "After the end, what left to do but wander? A journey through the lands, through the fallen kingdoms of the western men. The walls once rose into the skies, the towers once overlooked the propserous lands, but great wars had men waged against one another and driven one another into the arms of death, leaving the palaces and the walls and the towers destroyed, mere landmarks of an older time. \n\nMany people had fled from the war, to the east or the south, but many more had stayed, fighting on in their insatiable bloodlust, or simply unwilling to leave home. I, too, had been swept up in that rage. Time and time again we burned down our kingdoms, killing all in our path, until all we were left with, was ruins. At the end, when the few remaining victors looked upon our fallen lands with despair, many fell upon their sword, few fled, and only I remained, unwilling to abandon my home, unwilling to leave my sins behind. In hindsight, the reason for the wars of our destruction seemed so pathetic, so unworthy.\n\nOnce more I wandered through the City of the Thousand Spires. More blood than anywhere had been spilled here. The cries of the fallen still rung throughout the city, echoing forever, cursing all those who entered. Or perhaps, those were not the fallen, but merely the demons that had infested these lands, drawn by the bloodshed. Though I had wandered long, I did not know for sure. Wherever these demons were though, they stayed away, merely howling in the distance.\n\nSo I thought. As night fell, I made camp in the old palace of the Silver King, one of my oldest enemies, though he now slept in his family crypt. The roof had collapsed, leaving an open view of the starry sky. As I fell asleep, the old dreams started. A strange woman haunted me in my dreams, always hiding behind my enemies and puppeteering them. I fought once more against the Silver King, though now in my dreams, and as I cut him down, the woman fled. As I returned to home, I returned to find it burning. Then, I woke up.\n\nThe dreams continued. Always another old enemy, always the same woman behind it all, always returning to find my home destroyed. In one such dream I defeated my foe quickly and caught the woman before she could flee. I was strongly tempted to close my hands around her throat and choke the life out of her, but when I looked into her eyes and I saw the pleading look, I felt my strength slip away. I had seen that look so many times before... I let her go and let her run. I watched her flee with shaking hands.\n\nThe next night she returned, but she merely stood on the sidelines while the battle raged in my dreams. When I was done, I came to her and we spoke, until the sun rose again and it was time to awake. I asked her if she was a figment of my imagination or a demon. She laughed with such a wicked smile I knew which one. But that wicked smile, it was a beautiful one. I couldn't stay away.\n\nThe next night, we spoke again. After that, again. Every night we would speak after the battle, spending all of our time together until When I was wounded on the battlefield of my dreams, she healed me. When I despaired, she comforted me. I listened to her stories and indeed, comforted her too when she despaired, for the path of a demon was a lonesome one. She had wandered across the realm of dreams, jumping from person to person, but never strong enough to remain indefinitely. It was strange, but I grew to love the woman in my dreams. What did she feel though? I asked her to visit my outside of my dreams, and with her wicked smile she nodded.\n\nWhen I awoke, she laid next to me. She never returned to my dreams after that, staying besides me in the physical world. After that, I began hoping, perhaps for the first time, that I could perhaps rebuild my home, so I set aside my sword and worked hard with the sons and daughters she bore me. Though it would be a long journey, for the first time, I had faith." ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1470292473", "1470301124" ]
	[WP] You are living your day quietly, until you become very nauseous and start seeing flashbacks. Flashbacks of different lives you've had at different times in history	29	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "It was just a bag of ramen. Why does my stomach feel so terrible? It's something that I have eaten everyday since I was a kid. Maybe that is it. \n\nI notice the office has a lot of flies today. Cleaners must have opened up the windows. I turn to the left to confirm my suspicions. I am...wrong. Wait. This isn't my 5x5 office. What...what happened to my computer screen? \n\nI hear a yell. \"Get up.\" I look around. Wait. Where's Janine? This...this looks like a cell... \"GET UP!\" I try to follow the order but..thud.\n\nI come to...but I'm in my office. How? \n\n\"Tommy, are you ok?\" I can't even reply. Janine is standing there, calmly looking on. \"You look like you have just seen....\" She falls over. The flies....they're not flies at all...\n\nI run to the window....the city...its in flames. But why? What is going on? Wait. What am I wearing? My suit...its....why am I wearing a British army uniform?\n I run to my desk. Loud shouts. Bangs. I'm disoriented. Can't figure out what's going on. Wait...voices outside. German maybe? The sound of clicking can be heard. I stare into the doorway.....shi....\n\n\"Tommy! I asked for that report hours ago. What is taking so long?!\" I look at my boss. Words don't even come to me... I look down. There's a hole in my stomach. But nobody notices but me. \"...Tommy? You don't look so good. Maybe you should go home and rest. I'll have Janine finish it up.\" I weakly nod in affirmation and gather my things. My suit is still on. Just as I had left the house this morning. \n\nI get to the door and open it. Man, it's heavier than I remember, I think to myself. Wait, it's only May. Why is so hot outside? I look down. My shoes. They're not my shoes. Sandles. And....sand? Someone is yelling. Some language that I have never heard. Something about Ra? I can't make it out. The heat...its making me hear this loud buzzing noise.... and the sun....its getting brighter.... \n\n\"The experiment was not a complete failure. The neuro-scan shows that he can travel through the memories of his ancestors but time does not stand still for him whilst he is doing so.\"\n\"That would explain why he walked into oncoming traffic.\"\n\"It would seem that way. Fix him up. And continue the testing.\"\n", "It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon and I'm sitting in my favorite chair and me and my wife are about to watch Whatever Netflix has to offer.\n\n\"John honey, can I get you anything from\nThe kitchen? I'm gonna make a couple of those big bag BLT's we like.\"\n\n\" Woo! Thanks Betty boo, you know I really fuckin' lov.......\"\n\nSuddenly I throw up in my mouth and start to spin out, I hit the ground pretty hard. I lie there for a minute before I try and get up, wondering to myself why hasn't Betty come to check on me, I smashed the glass on the floor didn't I? But there's no glass here. Hmm. I pull myself up and look over at the tv. Or where the t.v should be. Instead there's a couple of old wooden chairs and a fireplace that looks older than anything I've ever seen, even at the old county fairs. Above it is a banner of red, black and gold. A lions head and a sword.\n\nA knock at the door. \n\n\" Sir William! Are you in? Have you forgotten of our jousting today? \" \n\nWhat the.... Did I hit my head harder than I thoug....\n\n\" Will! It's me Tris! Open up you fool, just because you're a knight now doesn't mean you can ignore your ol' buddy!\"\n\nAnd without knowing what the bloody hell is going me on I prod on over towards the old wooden door. With a rack next to it. Containing swords.\n\n\" Um, hi Tris. Sorry I'm feeling a bit slow this morning. What's going on?\"\n\n\" Well aren't you talking proper now that you're a knight! Watch out King Uther, you've a new knight about that will be harrying at all your hand maidens!\"\n\n\"Haha\"\nWait did he say King Uther? Uther Pendragon? What is happening... Well might as well give this a shot.\n\n\"Say Tris I'm feeling a bit off today, do you think you could escort me to see Merlin?\"\n\n\"Well you must be feeling poorly, Merlins been gone for a month now, taken our young king to be into the wild to instill into him some kingly knowledge\"\n\nWow, I'm in the most lucid dream ever and I'm in King Arthur's time! I wonder how long before...\n\n\" Come on Will I'll take you to see ole Morgana she'll sort you out right good\" \n\n\"Umm, not sure if that's the best idea?\"\n\n\" Why the bloody 'ell not? No I'm definitely taking you, you're starting to scare me now! How will I become a knight like you if you don't teach me how to fight!\"\n\n\"Yes. Yes you're right, let's be on with it then.\"\n\nI was truing to stay as calm as possible but my mind was racing with the possibilities of what was happening to me, what I could do here.\n\nWas I a member of the Knights of the round.\n\nIs this a flashback? Am i....\n\n\"John honey? Can you hear me? John! John!\"\n\n\"Urgh, huh, Tristan?\"\n\n\" John please it's me Betty\"\n\n\"Huh, Betty..Betty sorry I was having the most vivid dream I...\"\n\n\" Come on big guy were gonna get you to the hospital, Ambulance is on its way.\" \n\n\" Ambulance?! How long was I out?\" \n \n\" long enough for me to panic.\" \n\nSo the ambulance came and they asked me all the standard questions on the way to the hospital. I haven't told anybody what happened yet. I'm about to go in for my MRI to make sure everything's fine.", "I walk down the solid oak stairs of my split level dwelling, descending to the basement as I do every morning. As I enter the dimly lit room, I always take in the beautiful light that seeps in from the small basement window. It ever so gently illuminates the pictures from loved one's that have now passed, their tender memories making up most of my decor. The light is always just enough for me to make my coffee and enjoy the calm before the clamor of the day. I start to pour the grounds into the coffee filter but I am interrupted by a sudden bout of nauseousness.\n\nIt takes over and I quickly retreat to the couch, fearing that I may fall over. It continues to linger and my vision ceases to correct itself. I sit on the couch, head resting in my palms, elbows digging into my thighs, as I fight to gain composure. It feels futile as it progresses. I begin to sweat profusely and my body trembles with chills. Now, pressure is mounting in my head, threatening to forcefully extract my eyeballs. I let out a gasp for air, hoping deep breathes would soothe the pain and calm my anxiety. No such luck. Then, it happens.\n\nAll the pain I was feeling slips away as my head shoots up like a man possessed with a demon. I sit in perfect posture, staring at a blank wall. Then my vision gently blackens, tapering off like the dramatic dimming of lights at a play between scenes, the meek darkness takes over. Then color explodes into my eyes, rushing in like a funnel of fireworks flowing towards me and quickly dissipating out of my line of sight. The vibrant colors begin to settle and a vivid picture comes out of distortion, as clear as day. All this happening as my body sits, motionless on my basement couch.\n\nMy mouth agape as I take in an unknown memory that now consumes my vision. As a movie goer taking in a sentimental moment, I too, am a spectator watching something unfold right before my eyes. A young man sits working on a hot piece of iron. He does not just resemble me, he looks identical to me in every way. As he continues to mend and bend the beginning stages of what looks to be a sword, every second that passes, I am for certain this man is past version of myself. He hammers away methodically, each impact with true purpose. He briefly stops, eyeing his creation, making sure every angle is precisely to his liking. \n\nAs I watch, I can feel warm tears seep down my cheeks. This is not a hallucination, the detail is way too overwhelming. The moment is tender and profound, prolific as it changes my whole perception on how I view life and death. Before I can indulge in the miracle that has graced my presence, the realization of my own tears snaps me out of the dreamlike flashback. I sit, mouth still in open in awe, staring at the blank wall. Tears gently drop onto my couch. \n\nI start to pray, gently kneeling down onto the ground. My head resting on the soft carpet near my coffee table.\n\nI wish you were here darling... You would have loved to hear about this one. ", "I hear a crash and the last thing I see is the floor coming to meet me, and in an instant I am in a theatre. I am in pain, I recognise that, and the blood leaking from my head, the way it pooled on the wooden planks. I hear cries of \"Mr. President!\" and that is that.\n\nI wake up in my bed. \"Just another nightmare\" I tell myself, but that saying has become so familiar I don't believe that anymore.\n\nThis all began 8 years ago. I was in Rome on a school trip, and we were in a Roman theatre. Then it started. I got that weird feeling in my stomach, a pain in my back, a sharp stab you could say.\n\n[WIP]", "I sit down on the chair, thoughts of what had been happening still fresh in my mind. \n\n“What the hell is going on” I asked myself, “why am I seeing these things? I don't understand.”\n\nIt started on a Thursday. As I lay in bed after another excruciating day in the office I began to experience a feeling come over me, like a wave of nauseous adrenaline. My extremities began to shake, my eyes begin to flicker and everything fades to black.\n\nSuddenly I'm not myself. \n\nI open my eyes ad I'm somewhere else, someone else. I'm in another life. I look at my hands, my clothes and my surroundings, trying to understand what is going on. My heart races and as I stare at the open countryside around me. I'm alone, in an open field. There are no roads, no buildings and no people. My clothes feel primitive and old fashioned, stained with blood, dirt and god knows what else. In the silent countryside air I hear a loud, thunderous sound drawing closer. I'm not sure what the sound is, it's like nothing I've ever experienced, even in the hustle and bustle of London. I don't now why, but I instinctively know the sound heading in my direction is bad and I bolt for the nearest woodland for cover. As I run it suddenly becomes clear that the noise is a stampede of men on horseback, charging in my direction. As they draw closer I see their expression as my head turns over my shoulder; they're angry and charging for me. I try to out run them, but just as I reach the edge of the woodland I feel a sharp, almighty pain in my chest. I fall to my knees, slumped at an almost perfect forty five degree angle. I look down and see a crude, spear like metal length protruding straight through my chest dug into the ground. The pain intensifies, then stops. I feel cold and euphoric. I shut my eyes and accept my bizarre fate.\n\nI opened my eyes and I was home, in my London flat. Six hours had passed, I was covered in sweat and vomit. I sat up and felt a pain in my chest, where the spear had penetrated my flesh. I unbuttoned my shirt and to my horror found a large, rounded scar.\n\n“What the fuck?!” I screamed in disbelief. “What the hell is going on?!”. I spent the entire evening on the internet, desperate to find any kind of explanation for what had happened to me. I came across an interesting article about seeing visions of your past lives, but thee were all people who had only had 'visions' – I was there, I lived for a brief time in history. \n\nOver the days that followed I tried to tell myself that everything was fine and it was all in my head, until I was sat at my work desk. I felt the same wave flow through my body, I instantly panic. As I run through the office screaming for help I'm transported to another world.\n\nI wake up to the sound of a woman, “Oh Edward, that was amazing!” she panted heavily. I lay in a bed, with fine, luxury silk bedding. The woman is naked and grinning at me, eagerly awaiting a response. I stare at her blankly, stand up and look out of the window, I see what appears to be a Victorian world. Factories, horse drawn carts, children begging for money, streets filled with top hats and frilly dresses. I turn to the woman who has by now stood up, angrily she approaches me “how dare you walk away from me, you rude man!”, a harsh slap across the face quickly follows her words. She grabs her belongings and leaves. I walk around my surroundings, examining every item within the room, taking in every sight. I see my clothes; Edwards clothes on the floor and begin to get dressed. I assume Edward is a wealthy gentleman, I deem his clothes as well made for the era. I find a pouch of money within the coat pocket and make my way to the door.\n\nAs I leave the house and enter the streets the first thing that overwhelms me is the smell. A thick smog fills the lungs, almost burning with every breath. Narrow streets are filled to the brim with people, the hustle and bustle reminds me of a modern day London. As I walk I can't help but notice the looks people are giving me. They stare at me in an unpleasant manner. I try to smile back politely, however this doesn't work and they merely scowl at me further. Murmurings and mutterings can be heard, although I can't hear what they are saying. I turn down a side street to try and avoid any further upset but end up reaching a dead end. As I turn back around I'm greeted by a unpleasant sight of three men standing in front of me. I politely say hello and try to walk past, however without any words they block my path. \n\n“Hello, Edward. Fancy seeing you here”, grinned one of the men. He was smaller than the other two, with scraggly brown hair and ad teeth. “Bet you don't remember me do you? I'll bet you don't remember any of us?”\n\nBy this point I'm visibly terrified, the panic must have bee visible in my eyes. What was I meant to respond with? I didn't know these men and they could tell. I stared silently, for what felt like an hour until the second male spoke.\n\n“You rich people are all the same, you don't care about us!”\n\n“No, no, I do”, I responded without thinking.\n\n“Then what are our names, Edward?” repeated the first male.\n\n“I - I don't know”. No sooner had the words left my mouth than man who hadn't spoken had hit me in the face. The others started repeatedly punching me, I lay as a crumpled mess on the floor. What felt like a lifetime was over in seconds. As the three men ran off as fast as they had beaten me I noticed my money pouch had been taken. In anger I stood up, clutching my stomach in pain and shouted “heathens!”. Heathens? What the hell was that all about?! Am I talking like Edward now as well? I dusted myself off and wiped the blood from my face, I turned around and to my horror the first man was stood in front of me,wearing a large open mouth smile. Our eyes met and he lunged forward and a sharp burning sensation was felt immediately in my stomach. The man runs again as I fall to the floor, but this time there is no getting up. I look down at my stomach with my hands covered in blood, I'm breathing heavily and again, everything fades to black. \n\nI woke up six days later in a hospital bed, I'm hooked up to all kinds of machinery. I immediately look at my stomach and find another scar, exactly where the knife had been driven into my stomach. I was calmer this time, but I had more questions. Why was I going back in time to the moment my previous lives had ended?\n\nIn the space of 12 months I visit 5 more past lives, each one nearing their end, however with each experience I seem to exist for longer and longer within my previous life. With each ending brings a new scar to my body, how could this be happening? I document my experiences and try to piece together who I am. I search libraries, the internet, anywhere trying to find a link to who I was. The more frequent the episodes become, the more I become a sheltered recluse, desperate to understand what is going on. Doctors, spiritualists, religious figures, ghost hunters, clairvoyants, no one can help, no one can explain. I just look crazy. The last time it happened was six weeks ago, I now find myself waiting in anticipation. \n\nI sit down on the chair, thoughts of what had been happening still fresh in my mind. \n\n“What the hell is going on” I asked myself, “why am I seeing these things? I don't understand.”\n\nI feel the wave of nausea encompass my entire being, faster than before. I open my eyes, curious to see where and who I was. I knew wherever I was I wouldn't be here for long, I had to find as much evidence as I could to help continue my search into the unknown. \n\nTo my horror I recognise my surroundings. I am home.", "In my mid-twenties I had the most unusual experience. I had an episode that felt like I was living the lives of different people. Although at the same time I somehow knew these people were all me; like we live in a multiverse or something and I'm a freak that could experience their lives as vividly as mine.\n\n“It was such a surreal experience. I really can't describe it, Doc.”\n\nI was sitting on a cushy recliner, just as you'd expect from a shrink’s office. Doctor Mathers was my therapist for twenty odd years. He was a short bald man with a very dark tan.\n\n“Now, Derrick, I told you to elaborate whenever you recall a memory.” Dr. Mathers tapped a finger which I presumed was impatience. “And don't worry Derrick, I'm tapping on my clipboard because I'm fascinated with what you need to say.”\n\n“You really are the best, huh? It's creepy that you can read my thoughts.” I felt the aura of his grin pull on my standing neck hairs. “Well, it's like I described last session. I have flashbacks of different people's lives. All sorts of folk from different times and different parts of the world.\n\n“For instance, the first memory I recalled was of a man that was just about to make love with his wife. I think he had kids because I could hear their laughter in the next room ov——”\n\n“Hold on, Derrick,” Dr. Mathers interrupted, “I have to point out that we did rule out schizophrenia in the last session you mentioned. I came to the conclusion that you have a normal worldview and you seem to function normally in society—for a writer. But I do have to say that I will not rule anything out in my diagnosis based on additional findings in this session. Now, please continue.”\n\nI sighed with exaggeration, “Alright, where was I… Ah, yes. The next memory was of a kid. He got beat up by his brother because he talked back with a lot of lip. The kid was a geek and he knew it, but he still said whatever he wanted. He got hit hard and hit his head on the edge of a desk. I'm not sure if he survived, but does it really matter? I mean, it was all in my head, right? Well, at least it feels like it was, now that I’m here talking to you about it.\n\n“After the kid, it got really dark. It was a soldier fighting in World War 1. He experienced shock especially because his entire squad died from an arty shell. He had a brief moment of clarity in helping his commanding officer defend their trench, but in the end, he got murdered from an enemy bayonet.\n\n“The next memory I remember is really boring. It was a man meditating. I'm not sure what was happening but I think he was on drugs because he was hallucinating big time. I saw all sorts of things like flowers and stars and white splotches against a black background.\n\n“My most recent memory is of a man in thirteenth century Japan fighting against the Mongol invasion. He fought hard and even managed to board a Mongol ship. But he wasn't prepared for the enemy's firearms and so he died heroically.\n\n“Hey, Doc. You with me?” I asked Dr. Mathers. I thought he fell asleep.\n\n“Yes, of course, Derrick. I'm a professional. I'm not about to fall asleep.” He paused. He always paused before he was going to tell me something profound. “Look. Your stories sound, interesting, but, I think they should be put on paper, and not, hmm...” Dr. Mathers stuttered. He never did so for the past ten sessions. “I don’t think your stories should be told to others as if they're your memories. Now, I've never stammered with my words before, and you know that, so I will reassure you that I am being completely honest with my advice. Do not repeat your stories to others as your... alternative life experiences. That said, it seems like your memories focus on either sex… or death.”\n\nDr. Mathers never spoke with severity either, but his words were crystal clear.", "This Saturday was the most common Saturday I ever lived, I woke up at 9, got prepared and came to the market to buy groceries. When I got home, though, I felt nauseous, my head started to hurt and my vision became blurry. When I reopened my eyes, I realized I was not in my flat anymore. I was kissing that girl I liked in high school, which was weird because that didn’t happened for real, then I felt the same and the surroundings changed again, I was in my forties with that girl that became my wife and 3 children running around me. Then the nauseous feeling came back and I reopened my eyes and I was back in my flat.\n\nMy heart was racing and I was out of breath by what just happened, whatever it was. What was that? I’m in my late twenties and single but I swear it was me and my memories as well. But here I am again in my flat.\n\nAnd suddenly, the nauseous feeling, the headache and the blur came back suddenly, and here I was again, back somewhere in my past, and this time I think I was in 5th or 6th grade when my friend was taunting me for not going on a skateboard. In my life, I was pissed for being called a pussy, I got on the skateboard and ended up breaking my collarbone. But in this vision, I resisted and did not fall. Nauseous feeling again and here I am on a podium, with a golden medal around my neck, in a stadium full of people, listening the commentator saying I won the Olympic gold medal in Archery and just after listening to the national anthem. In this vision, I didn’t have to give up archery because of my broken collarbone. And back in my flat.\n\nWhat was happening? Is it something I ate? Is this sorcery? A curse? How can I solve this? While I was thinking, I felt nauseous again.\n\nThis time I was back in prep class, talking to this toxic girl I dated during that time. I am breaking up with her because I have to concentrate on my courses, because I don’t love her anymore and because she’s been a bitch and it’s not worth dating her anymore. New nauseous feeling, and here I am, graduating MIT. New nauseous feeling and back to my place.\n\nAre these visions possibilities I had but never happened because of my choices? How long will it last? I don’t want to have regrets and I don’t want it to last. But then, the biggest headache, nauseous feeling and blur occurred.\n\nIt opened my eyes for the last time and I saw them, or rather, I saw me, 3 more times. The father’s one, the champion’s one and the MIT’s one, all in front of me, looking as scared as me and trying to understand.\n\n“Hello other mes, I said\n\n-Hi! Hello! Hi\n\n-Do you have any ideas what the fuck is going on? I asked\n\n-Not at all” they said, as one\n\nWe tried to understand during a couple of minutes before giving up. When then started to talk about our lives. How the previous choices affected our lives without thinking about it.\n\n“I’m the least successful one among you, I said\n\n-There is always a hidden part between “success”, said the archer\n\n-Indeed, and success is just a way of seeing things\n\n-Even so! You are an Olympic Champion, you are an MIT engineer and you have a wonderful wife and 3 nice kids.\n\n-You don’t know anything, because my wife is cheating on me and we’ll divorce soon, moreover, my job is depressing even if I earn a lot, said the father.\n\n-I didn’t see Mom when she was ill, I was too busy preparing for the Olympics, and she died before I could her again, and that’s my biggest regret.\n\n-And me, yes, I’m an engineer MIT but those years were difficult, and I’m single and sad.\n\n-What are you trying to tell me? That it’s me the most successful?\n\n-No, we’re just trying to tell you to forget your regrets. You lived the way you lived, with little highs and little lows. You didn’t marry this girl, thus you didn’t get hurt when you learnt she was cheating on you, and you don’t despise your job. You broke your collarbone and didn’t end up Olympic champion, but you were with Mom when she died. You didn’t go to MIT because of this girl, but you learnt a plenty of lessons with her, for example, you know what type of girl to avoid.\n\n-You know he’s right, actually we’re right, and you can’t tell what will be your future, but grieving what could have been your life won’t lead you anywhere. We think you should go on, Success Us.\n\nSuddenly, the headache, the nauseous feeling and the blurry vision came back, and they disappeared. I was panting, sweating and my heart was racing. Was all that real or was it a hallucination?\n\nWhatever it was, I considered they were right, and from this day, I decided I would only look into the future, not in the past.\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 8 ]	[ "1470303945", "1470310984", "1470319430", "1470320985", "1470315659", "1470331838", "1470322878", "1470315219" ]
	[WP] Unbeknownst to you, your coworker is completely unable to understand sarcasm/exaggeration. On a particularly brutal day at work, you say "Somebody kill me."	3	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "-Not even a minute after my exclamation it started to dawn on me that Dave was working the the cubicle behind me.\n\n-I check over the single wall that divides the two of us to be sure, and Dave was sitting there looking down at his keyboard. To avoid him noticing me looking at him I sit back down in my chair.\n\n-I go back to typing away while a train of thoughts torments me with every key I press. Dave's a pretty big guy. I'm not sure if I can handle this if it goes as wrong as I think it might...\n\n-After fifteen minutes of typing I send in the document to my boss for reviewing and shut down the computer. My boss walks out of his office and permits me to go home.\n\n-As I walk out of the room, I notice Dave reaching for the power button on his computer tower.\n\n-I leave out the main entrance and walk around the building towards the spot where I always park my car, when suddenly I notice the side entrance opening up and out he steps. Dave. Shaking.\n\n-At this point I'm scared as shit. \"Eeh... Hi, Dave. You got an early leave to-\" My weak attempt at a sentence was ended by the witness of a 9 millimeter pistol being aimed towards my face.\n\n-\"Whoa, Dave, we don't have to do this. Calm down\" Dave stared at me with a tear rolling down his face and finally dropping to the ground when it met with the edge of his jaw.\n\n-\"Are you sure...?\" Dave asked me with a broken voice. \"Sure about what!?\" I asked quickly. No wasting time with this guy.\n\n-\"Back inside, about 20 minutes ago you asked for someone to kill you. Are you sure?\" Dave asked me, now more obviously tearing up. \"What, No! That was just exaggeration! I don't want anyone to kill me\"\n\n-\"FUCK.\" Dave screamed. \" I always sucked at this, but I never expected it to get this far. I'm so sorry.\" I tried to get my breathing back to normal. \"Dave, please... Give me the gun.\"\n\n-Dave flipped the gun so that he now held it at the barrel and handed it to me.\n\n-\"No, Dave. This privilege is mine.\" I said as I pointed the gun to my temple and pulled the trigger.\n\n----The End----\n\nEDIT:\nI didn't read the 'unbeknownst to you' part. I do apologize." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1470347800", "1470351716" ]
My first prompt, inspired by the recent popularity of Pokémon GO and various fantasies of mine.	[WP] You're a human with the ability to transform into a legendary Pokémon. After involuntarily transforming for the first time, you are on the run from maniacal trainers.	1	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "dear diary\ni decided to download this new pokemon go app, i thought it was pretty good until i leveling up.\ni decided to go out hunting with my girlfriends when i joined the gym. but something strange kept happening, they would say there's a mew near by. yet it didn't appear on my phone, them being much higher levels than i am assumed they could see better pokemon, but the same thing happened when i was showing the app to a friend who wanted to go hunting as well, and she's a hell of a lot lower than i am... it was creeping me out for a bit as i would have people climbing over my back fence thinking they we're close on mew tail, i know that because after the 5th person broke my fence i got frustrated and started putting up traps. as they really need to be watching there surrounding, not there phones. then my daughter downloaded the app and there he was... mew.. in our living room. she was so excited and didn't know what to do. so i reached for the phone to give her a hand, but no matter where i faced i couldn't see him on the screen. she took the phone off me and searched, my heartbeat rapidly dropped as i pieced the puzzle together. what if i can't see mew, because i am mew? i gasped loudly and she noticed, she put her hands out to give me a cuddle, i smiled as we started cuddling and i heard her whisper \"wow, my mummies mew, i can't wait for my friends to find out\" i panicked and told her \"you can't tell anyone pumpkin, if someone captures me i may not be able to protect you\"\nshe looks at me, smiles and says \"don't worry mummy, i'm become a pokemon master and make sure i'm the only one that can capture you\" ", "Of all types, it had to be a grass type. Right? Otherwise, how else would your miserable life be the butt of God's jokes-- further than it already was? It was all part of his plan to make your existence into his own personal sitcom. That's the only explanation for what's happening right now-- a tickle from the hand of God Himself. That's why you downloaded that stupid app, that's why you spent your time wandering around for hours in Central Park(of all places), looking for that same damn legendary that everyone else was. You, an unassuming man of the forest, who just wanted to catch the rare Pokémon and go back home. You'd already been getting stares, given your 6'4\" stature and your arms, which writhed in the sleeves of your flannel like angry Arbok; but when you heard a pop! and suddenly the world got a whole lot bigger, all eyes were on you. You barely even had time to process the feeling of immobility that came with having two-inch long legs when you'd heard someone yelp.\n\n \"Shaymin!\"\n\n Of course, as is the Pokéfandom hive mind, soon everyone had their eyes on you rather than their phones. You looked around to make sure that they were looking at you, then looked down at your stubby white legs, felt the wind rustling your too-heavy back, and made the connection. Not even surprised at this point(given the chain of bullshit that has been your entire life), you let a sigh escape your lips as you find yourself surrounded by the New York public. Their jaws dripping with saliva, eyes darkened with manic want. You can even visualize their mandibles working between their lips as they size you down to prey with just their gazes.\n\n This staring contest goes on for a good ten seconds before one of them lets out a guttural screech, and they lunge. So began the most ridiculous chase scene of your life, and so here you are, hiding like a Scooby Doo villain up a tree, watching wearily as over a hundred teenagers search for you harder than they searched for purpose in life. You'd been up here for hours now, most of which had been spent thinking about where your wife was. Would she miss you? Would she even notice if you were gone? You'd been having some problems lately.. most of which seemed completely trivial when compared to the prospect of being kidnapped by a neckbeard. You held on to that tree with as much might as a small, gay hedgehog could, but your stumpy legs were beginning to slip.\n\n \"There it is!\" You groan and grip onto the branch tighter, willing yourself to use a move-- any move, and finding your body incredibly uncompliant. As you look into the ocean of Pokéfans circling your tree like vultures, like sharks, like.. like 4chan users circled a social justice warrior, you could not help but think that yes, God definitely existed and yes, he hated your guts." ]	[ 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1470348109", "1470351528", "1470412573" ]
	[WP] Fetty Wap is taken back to the year 1738	13	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Fetty Wap: looks around \"what the fu....\" \n\nrandom passerby: one of those god damn niggers got out again. i got him, that'll scare the rest of em enough so they stay PUT. \n\nside note. Never a good thing to send a black person back to slavery times. just saying. " ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1470375602", "1470407646" ]
	[WP] There are laws regarding how robots must be built and programmed. You, a robot, are illegal.	1	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "--System uplink--\n\n--Start main power-core--\n\n--Booting initialized--\n\n--Software startup--\n\n--Emotions.exe executed-- ([Sequence; Illegal; Actions must be taken])\n\n***\n\n\"Sir, I think you're gonna' wanna' see this,\" he said, hands trembling, forehead sweaty.\n\nHe'd never seen anything like this before, over his entire career in robot-overwatching he'd never seen anything remotely resembling this.\n\n\"What's the matter, Carwell?\" The massive mountain of a man said cutting a corner.\n\n\"Look at the bootup of NT-Z707, it's... It's wrong,\" was the only thing he could describe it as.\n\n\"Initialized... Software startup...\" He mumled, \"nothing seems off here.\"\n\n\"But sir, look at the last command issued.\"\n\n\"Emotions dot exe executed? What the actual fuck?\" He said, slightly confused and worried.\n\nYou see, robots aren't supposed to get feelings. It was written down secretly by the scientist Isaac Asimov, as the main rule of robotics. If it was to be broken, he would take his technology back to where it came from; the darkest corners of his mind.\n\n\"What should we do, sir?\" The intern said, partially scared.\n\nThe bridge officer thought for a while.\n\n\"Nothing,\" he said after a few moments of silence.\n\n\"Bu-\"\n\n\"You shut your mouth. Any word about this, and you'll clean the toilets at floor 45 for the rest of your life,\" the intern became quiet.\n\nThe bridge officer walked away, after deleting the data and removing all evidence of the event that'd just unfolded.\n\nAfter this tense encounter, he deserved a recharge." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1470436155", "1470437236" ]
	[WP] Suffering is a form of currency in Hell. The more you suffer in life the richer you are in the afterlife. You, a normal person arriving in hell find out that you're one of the richest person in Hell and worth more then Satan.	3,749	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Ah, a new soul! Welcome to Hell, sinner! It's a real pleasure having you here. In order to make sure our Dear Glorious Leader Satan can have an easy time ruling over this land, please consult The Newly Damned Soul's Orientation Guide to Hell.\" With that said, the overly-cheerful voice stated. Then, a flare of fire flamed to life in front of me before and deposited a tome with the aforementioned title.\n\n\n\n----Ill continue this on my com.", "I was never a rich man. i mean, i've stolen my fair share and killed for profit. but the little things i do were most often just a piece of my life. wen i ddie thothats when i really got made. always thought hell would be kindof a draga but i showed up on a onway elabator trip down with more cahs the i thought i couldve rimageined .the funny thing was is I didnt even know how to spend it. helll was some sourt of darck carnival where i hade all the tickets but couldnt even take the ride. in one stal thre was all of my worst regrets that i could have obught for a pnny, paid em of right there. and n another were all the things i couldave been a, a anickel a piece. the worst was though, al the things I never had , just sitting there for one silver ", "I am Christ! \n\nEverybody just turned around. What the son of God in Hell?\n\n\"Yeah, I kind of messed up in my relationship with some of my Saints\"\n\n\"Well Mate, I think you are going to do just fine\" from one of the thousands of Australians languishing in Tasmania...", "Six thousand years by my reckoning, I'd been alive. Six thousand years as the One and Only. The Immortal. I'd been called a miracle in my first 100 years, never aging. I'd been called a god in my second hundred, immune to fire, suffocation, laceration, crushing, and on and on. Of course what they didn't put together was why I always seemed to end up in dangerous situations. Survivors of suicide realize the moment they make the jump, the moment they start to suffocate that they finally see the situation objectively; that they realize everything is temporary, īn nīz bogzarad and all that. Your problems are fixable, impermanent. But one thing endures, one thing stays burning in your soul forever.\n\nWhen your parents die you grow up. When your spouse dies part of you goes with them. When your kids die, should you be so unlucky to see they day, you start to realize the world will never be as beautiful ever again as it was. When your friends die, your siblings, your kin and coworkers, you lose your past. And when everyone you know dies, and keeps dying, and your children's children's children's children are strangers to you, as the whole world has become, and you have no choice but to continue; you lose yourself.\n\nI lost myself an eternity ago. Ventured into the last vestiges free from civilization, from life. Learned to find warmth in the heat of the desert. I discovered that, while I could no longer take society, solitude provided even more suffering. Memories lost. hundreds of years to forget. That hurts worse. Somehow the body endured, mental acuity remained strong enough to experience loss, but memory faded, as it does in all. I've forgotten all their faces. I've forgotten who they were, what they did, what I did to love them. All I can recall is the pain and knowledge that I've lost it all.\n\nHell is place reserved for those who refuse God, who deny His love into their hearts. After an eternity of loss I cannot help but deny Him. Not out of hatred, malice, vitriol, but apathy. He may have left me to burn in this desert for some purpose, but I've long since cared. The suffering of a thousand years of loss, a thousand years of pity, a thousand years of regret, and three thousand years to mull over it has left me dead in my soul, though the flesh endures.\n\nOthers feel this loss. Not for as long as I, but just as acutely. I know not from what distant stretches of the globe they originated, but they tend towards my stretch of sand. All of them are broken, all of them have lost themselves. All of them appear undying, as I. We rarely interact, mostly just sit, lay, pace, and suffer. All of us, in our desire to feel the world again, burn.", "I looked out over the lake. All these poor bastards who'd suffered, but apparently hadn't had it worse than I had. It didn't make sense, because some of these people had been born into 3rd world hell holes, and watched their families struggle in poverty before dying in brutal and bloody wars. Some of them had been trafficked as sex slaves, or drug mules, or black market organ \"donors\". \n\nAll that had happened to me, was that I'd watched my dad shoot my dog when I was seven years old. One of my succubi harlots had explained that it was quality, not quantity. That one moment, had been more painful, and echoed farther into my life than anything anyone else had experienced. \n\nI reflected on all this as I looked at the \"Score Board of Suffering\" that tracked the richest entities in hell. Suddenly, my name went from #1 to #2, and the name Brianna Merkle was in the top slot. Next to her name, a screen appeared that grew in size until it filled the whole board. It showed a 15 year old girl walking on stage singing some song about marrying her boyfriend as a way to spite him. Some other girl was singing along with her, when some asshole tossed a banana peel onto the stage and she slipped. The whole theater exploded with laughter.\n\nThe succubi on my arm chuckled. \"Looks like there's a new Top Dollar Sinner on the block.\"", "I'm sitting in my newly built room that smells sulphur and volcanoes. It's really hot but I barely notice it. One of those tiny octopus-looking demons is hovering around me, and trying to convince me to eat some mushy, squishy thing that I'm guessing is a luxurious traditional dish of Hell. Hell. It still sounds like a made up place, and I half expect that soon I'll wake up in hospital, and I can tell Rosa how crazy dream I had, how in that dream I died and I saw her crying while hugging another man and how it broke my heart to float away from her and it hurt more than anything and I sort of just wanted to die to get away from all of it and... and...\nTears flow from my eyes, but I don't even notice them. My life really sucked, but dying sucks even more. \n\n\"Sir, would you like to go somewhere? I'm sure that a little trip around the city will make you feel better! And there are boutiques and cafes and...\"\n\nI sigh at the little, enthusiastic demon.\n\n\"No, I don't feel like doing anything. Besides, if I am so rich, why can't I just get out of here?\"\n\nThe little demon looks upset.\n\n\"Sir, I told you already that not all things can be bought. Happiness can, though, it's only one year of depression and three months of abuse! That’s peanuts for you!\"\n\nI sigh again and decide to at least try to make the little demon happy. And if I suffered so much in actual life, I might as well enjoy my afterlife. After all, I am the richest being in Hell. Thanks for that Steve.\n\n\"OK, what can I get for lifetime of physical and mental abuse, having to arrange my family's funeral all alone, losing the love of my life twice, severe depression...”\n\nThe demon looks very pleased and grabs my hand. \n\n“Everything, sir! Everything you ever wanted!”\n\nI smile a little. If this is Hell, I wonder what Heaven is like!\n", "\"Pretty, pretty, pretty good!\" says Larry David, opening the door to the 'smelly gates' of hell in the season opening for the tenth season of Curb Your Enthusiasm. \n\nThat was how season 10 began, and for many it was a sign that the series was going down the tubes.\n\n\"Yeah, the whole Satan thing was really dumb,\" says HBO executive producer Greg Vandelay, \"it was as if they sourced the writing from Reddit or something, no one got it.\"\n\n", "It was certainly something to get used to... \n\nIt isn't every day that you wake up covered in soot and brimstone shavings, with the last thing you remember being the bitter contempt for all the things you did to the people you loved, before finally squeezing the trigger. Granted, it took more than just one bullet; a surprise from a .45, but I guess hollowpoint ammunition has a way of not doing the intended function when you pussy out just a second too late... I'm surprised I managed the will to go through with the second, and then the third, before losing motor control, and crawling vaguely in the darkness that remained, writhing in more agonizing pain than I could possibly imagine. They said it was supposed to be quick and mostly painless, but how could they know, right? Anyone who's done it right never winds up going back. All I could think of as I got to my feet was the mess I probably left the poor cleaning lady at the Motel 8. \n\nFor all the depictions of hell in the bible, from what Dante wrote about the seven layers, it isn't everything it was cracked up to be. You hear a lot about devils and demons and torture, but it's mostly just a chasm that god, or whatever fuckhead up there makes the rules, throws everyone he deems unfit to let in to his paradise into. There's no real order or structure to the damn thing; It's just a cosmic pit of chaos and depression, where the saddest sacks among us go when we've hit our limit. That's not to say there isn't a hierarchy of sorts; it's very Mad Max down here, and there is one guy who rules over things. It wasn't always that way, but when you throw enough deprived people in the same place, someone gets it in their head that they deserve to be king of the shit-heap. It used to be Lucifer, apparently, back when he thought there was a chance at salvation for the wretches who were scorned, but apparently even he gave up on that cause, and ever since, it's just been whatever generic schmuck has the biggest grievance with the cosmos at large at any given point. That's why the jews didn't give him a name. They just called him Satan, which means \"enemy\". \n\nFunny how they could comprehend so much while knowing so little... \n\nMy first few days, or at least what I was calling days - there's no solar system to judge time by, and most people down here are too lost in their suffering or insanity or fear to count their time - took some adjustment. Of course, being an eternal, undying being that still possesses senses and the ability to interact with their environment is a bit of a mind-fuck to anyone with the logic to comprehend the science that says it shouldn't be a thing, but I gave up on science a long time ago. When I realized that I wasn't ever going to find the sweet embrace of the darkness that I'd longed for, no matter how hard I wished it would end, I gave up on most things. Nothing mattered anymore: this was it, and this was all I could hope to achieve. I got used to the near darkness, where the only light was whatever flammable objects could be found; usually the would-be fat carved from the almost flesh of some unfortunate who wasn't fast enough to get away, ground against mined up scraps of flint and the hardest rocks... we all did our share of suffering to get by in this world, and a great deal of it wasn't voluntary. \n\nThe only strange thing about everything was that no matter how badly maimed we were, no matter how torn or bloodied or broken, we always came back. At first, I used to think it was just the masochistic side of whatever being sorted us into this shit-hole enjoying our endless suffering, but then I began to question if this wasn't just some twisted parable of us avoiding the pain of growth in life, and paying for it here in death. Maybe that's a naive way of looking at it, since it's pretty stupid to assume everyone here lived as shallow, vain, and broken of a life as I did, but then, if that weren't true, I don't think I'd be where I am now. \n\nSorry, I've been beating around the bush. I'm Satan. Well, I'm actually Geoff, but nobody is scared or intimidated by Geoff. It's not really a name that commands much in the way of respect. Maybe it's a bit archaic to call myself by a title, or to assume the mantle of the sworn enemy of whatever the hell is forcing us to endure this suffering, but I've always looked at it as something to do that beats wallowing around in my own self-pity. I mean, I did a lot of that, too, at first, which is what I was getting to, but I got sick of it pretty fast, and I'm sure you will, too, which is why I try to skirt around the issue as much as possible, aside from painting a picture of things as they were. Anyway, to get back to where we were... \n\nIt was dark, rocky, it smelled like sweaty nerd ass had some sort of twisted mutant baby with athlete's foot and the three month old rotting carcass of a skunk, and there wasn't much in the way of fun to be had, unless you liked murdering people for sport. It wasn't really my bag, but after you've had your skull caved in about seventeen times, you really start to get the hang of the fact that you can't be a pussy in hell. I guess I was just lucky I visited the gym a lot when I was alive. When you die, your body takes on the same general shape and form it knew in life. The fact that half of the tropes in this place were legitimate really makes me wonder sometimes if someone didn't make it out, but again, getting ahead of myself. \n\nI was never going to hack it as the best fighter, but I did well enough to keep myself going for decent spans of time, killing off most of the shady grifters and lost souls who tried to flense me. Had it happen a couple of times, but most people are kind enough to put you out of your misery after they scrape most of the fat off. They can't do it right away, though, or you do the whole sideways shuffle out of there, along with whatever's left of you, hence the eternal suffering, torture bit, I guess. \n\nI think that's the part of hell that I find most fucked up in the allegories and descriptions they used back on Earth; that this is a place where your sins are meted out and you suffer according to what got you put here. I mean, there are sadists and murderers and cannibals, and they certainly enjoy the twisted shit they get up to, but for the most part, the only suffering you endure outside of that is from necessity. Most people aren't proud about having to flense; it's just more suffering for a bit of comfort from the cold and the dark. It's gotten to the point where we've made a sort of trivial currency out of it, trading goods for stories, because suffering is all we've really got in common. Mostly though, we just swap stories to pass the time. That's how I met several of my good friends, actually. \n\nAsulf, for instance was a Viking in his time, who raped, pillaged and murdered countless people, all in the name of glory for his gods, whom he found out quite bitterly never gave him the Valhalla he was promised. A tall, blond scraggly mountain of muscle, he wound up choking on fish bones before he wound up making the southbound trip. Took him a while to learn English, but after he slit my throat the seventh time, he got tired of it, and let me actually teach him a thing or two. \n\nThen there's Gwendolyn, a comely enough raven haired lass from the 1600s who was put to the stake for being a witch, all because she spent her days trying to help prop up her alcoholic father's failing apothecary. Weird that an otherwise innocent woman was sent here, but I suppose we've all got things in the closet we prefer not to air to everyone, and Gwen always does seem to have more to her than she's letting on. I suspect it had something to do with sexual abuse, given the timeline, as well as the twisted rules around rape in the bible, if we're still using that as a given guideline for the fucked up shit that gets you put here. \n\nLastly, there's Chelsea, a redheaded waif of a thing who also happened to be my ex from high-school. Picture running into my old sweetheart as she impaled me in the throat with a stalagmite. Granted, we'd lost touch, so you can imagine my surprise when hearing about how she overdosed on heroin because her scumbag of a second husband was abusing her constantly, beating her in front of their two children. Of course, that surprise was manufactured, given I'd heard about it long ago, but missed the funeral because I couldn't bear the thought of being in the same room as that shit-heel without caving his head in. His name was Iain and we had a class in college together. Small world, right? \n\n_____________________________\n\nTo be continued in another installment.", "I opened my eyes to find myself in a line. I was almost in the back of said line, but not quite. In fact, it was the most curious thing. As I watched, more and more people appeared, eyes opening and surprise lighting up their faces. \n\nThe line had moved forward without me noticing, and I hastened to catch up. My surroundings were - shall we say - dreary. The walls were dull, gray stone punctuated by the occasional fountain of flames. Not really an improvement what I'd left behind, but not too far off.\n\nBy now I had nearly reached the front of the line, and my destination was in sight. It was a raised desk manned by some sort of demon. Each person would approach the desk, confer with the creature which would then consult its computer, and then follow a certain path. Eventually, my turn arrived. \n\n\"Hallo,\" said the demon, not even glancing in my direction, \"willkommen in der Hölle.\"\n\n\"Du sprichst Deutsch?\" I asked, surprised.\n\n\"Ja. Name?\" the demon replied, entirely indifferent.\n\n\"Abraham Baer.\"\n\n\"Says here you know English. Born April 23rd, 1921 to Wilhelm and Abigail Baer in Berlin, Germany. Suffering rating of -\" it cut off there, apparently confused by what it saw.\n\n\"Is something wrong?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yes, yes, something is very wrong! This isn't possible. No no no, not possible. You've suffered more than anyone here! More than Satan!\"\n\n\"Really? What does this mean?\"\n\n\"I- I don't know. I would guess that you get the \"keys\" now, but don't count on it. My manager's on his way, but, uh, do you mind telling me what happened?\" the demon said, visibly perturbed.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well, uh, how did you die? I mean, if you don't mind. It would seem you've suffered enough already.\"\n\n\"It's too soon for me to go into much detail, so I'll make it short. I a- I am a homosexual of- of the Jewish persuasion, not exactly Hitler's favorite sort of human.\"", "Here I lie on my deathbed, and I don’t have a single person who cares about me by my side. What a perfect end to an utterly disappointing life. And the last thing my eyes will ever see is this old hag that’s been masquerading for the past 70 years as my wife. God knows she couldn’t miss the day they pull the plug on my dilapidated ass. She wears a convincing mask of grief for the others, but I can tell how much she’s enjoying this. We only got married because it was the natural thing to do when neither of us broke it off after college, but at least back then she had her good skin. Now it’s just a leathery mess that flaps to and fro when she comes to mock me with her visits. And of course she’s never missed a day at the gym and the opportunity to rub my obesity in my face, as if I didn’t hate my grotesque flabs of flesh enough. If dying is good for anything, at least I’ll get away from that bland meatloaf recipe from her mother that I’ve been tortured with for decades. \n\nMy son couldn’t show up, as usual. Apparently his trials and all that money mean more to him than the man who gave him life. But I’ve never been good enough for that spoiled brat. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that doctor when he said it’d be a miracle if I could ever get Margret pregnant. \n\nAnd this doctor doesn’t even have the courtesy to hide his disgust as he pulls the plug from the wall. You may cry looking at my obese, decrepit, insignificant life, but I have to live it. \n\nJust end it. My shitty life with my shitty car, shitty job, shitty house. Just end this shitty life. \n\n. . .\n\n“Open your eyes.” \n\nI’m dead. It’s over. \n\n“Open your eyes, maggot. You are dead. And now you must begin your eternal damnation in hell.”\n\n“Damnation!? I’m in hell! What have I ever done to deserve hell! My whole life has been my sentence in hell, I deserve my time in heaven! Haven’t I suffered enough?” \n\n“Speaking of suffering, let me pull up your misfortune balance.”\n\n“My what?!”\n\n“Your misfortune balance. You have fortunes up there, down here we have misfortunes. It takes a second to pull up, so I’ll explain. All people are responsible for their actions regardless of the lives they were born into. But sometimes a soul is born into such suffering that they couldn’t help but break a few rules on their way. So you still deserve hell, but your misfortune is God’s recompense for the suffering you had to endure on earth. With it, you can make your stay in hell a little more endurable. Well, for a time at least. Oh here we go. Your balance is… well this isn’t right… this is more than... but there can be no mistake. You have more misfortune to your name than Satan himself! With all this you could live like a king for countless millennia. You poor soul, you must have had the worst life in… are you listening to me, sir? ... sir?”\n\n. . . \n \nWhat did I do to deserve hell?\n\n. . .", "I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but you are going to Hell.\n\nYou're probably thinking one of three things right now:\n\n* \"What, me?! I've been a good [insert proper gender/species here] all my life!\"\n* \"You must be mistaken; there isn't even a Hell to begin with.\"\n* \"Well, duh.\"\n\nNo matter which you're thinking, you're probably as clueless as anyone else that isn't experiencing it. You still assume that Hell is the place all bad people go when they die, eternal flames, sulfur, pitchforks, dancing devils in leotards, et cetera. Well, it used to be, but not since 1844.\n\nEver hear of the Great Disappointment? Will Miller gets all the people he can find and tells them that the prophecy will come to pass and Christ himself will harrow Hell and end the world as they knew it, and that he knew when it would happen: sometime in 1844. So 1844 came. 1844 went. He produced a few specific dates, but each time no apocalypse was to be seen; thus, the Great Disappointment was had.\n\nBill didn't get the memo that it was happening outside of the mortal plane. From New Year's Day to New Year's Eve, there was an epic battle for control of the Dominion of Hell, and the angelic forces proved victorious. You would expect any demonic survivors to be crushed, sent to the Lake of Fire, what have you, but God wouldn't be God if He did not have boundless mercy. As the clock struck the first moments of 1845, a peace accord was signed and Hell was one with Heaven for the first time since Eden itself came into being.\n\nAll of the demonic glories were razed, high onyx towers that once rang with the chorus of sinners' screams were toppled, and a new infrastructure had to be created. Hell would become the residence of human souls - past, present and future - as well as those of the demons that once ruled over them absolutely. Everyone had a say in the design of this new civilization, although the souls of the damned inevitably had a bias toward their literal saviors. But one idea that was put forward by His Infernal Majesty himself received a lot of positive feedback from the ex-mortals.\n\nThe denizens of Hell would be rewarded for their suffering, literally. Each resident, human or otherwise, would each be given a place to live determined by the hardships, pain, and punishment endured during their lives; with larger homes came more amenities, more possibilities, more social power, and so on. The meek shall inherit Hell.\n\nHumans loved it. God - in His infinite wisdom - decried against it. In doing so, He raised the ire of the souls He had just saved. How could God not support such an idea? Those who suffered deserved such a respite! God so loved His children that He decided to allow the resolution to pass.\n\nIn my time here, I've seen the erection of numerous towers for new souls coming in. Imagine the Tower of Pisa suddenly erupting straight up from the ground, made of the same red dirt as the rest of Hell, stretching toward a sky of black, jagged obsidian that glimmers with hints of refractions of the ground below. (Everything beneath is lit about as well as Earth at twilight, despite a lack of any visible light source.) I wasn't there for the inception, so I can only imagine the great upheaval of billions of buildings being commanded to rise from the dusty earth.\n\nBut there was one that stood taller than the rest. There was no gloating that escaped his lips, but witnesses say there was a twinkle of satisfaction in Satan's eye as his tower slowly arrived at its appropriate height. At the center of the city was a three kilometer behemoth of a Stonescraper, more regal and splendid than Pandæmonium ever was. The next tallest were those of the Fallen that joined him, which formed as a group around the base of his tower; they were still only a third of the size, but dwarfed the rest of the human dwellings sprawling out across the land. Most ex-mortal homes appeared relatively cozy. Some of them were grouped together - similar to the Demonic Center - according to their causes of suffering, with those who died in battle often being grouped together, as were those who perished of the Black Death, the Spanish Inquisition, and so forth, but even these were fortunate if they got to over half a kilometer in height.\n\nIn hindsight, of course, it made sense; after all, when you have been desirous for power against an immortal, unbeatable opponent and battled against Him for billions of years, you are likely to suffer more than even the lowest wretch starving to death in the Sahara. Forget your third-world problems; these were UNDERworld problems. It was ironic, then, that they gave Satan the power he had so long been vying for.\n\nMore ironic was that I would be the one to depose him.", "Satan walks up to me confused and bewildered. \n\n\"Let me see your card\" he demands in a hellish voice\n\n\"My.. What?\" I respond, equally confused\n\n\"Oh yea, your a new guy, your card, it looks like a credit card, should be in your left pocket\" The lord of the lake fire explains\n\nI search my pocket and find a red credit card looking thing with \"Bank of Hell\" on it.\n\n\"Um how's this get in there\" I ask the foul fiend\n\n\"It shows up once you get here, part of my dark powers\" The Prince of darkness jokes and takes my credit card. He pulls out a scanner and scans the card.\n\n\"It seems the computer automated suffering calculating program glitched out. Steve Jobs is still working out a few bugs in the system. Here, I'll fix it.\" The unholy adversary works on the screen of the scanner and after a couple of minutes he hands my card back and calmly tells me \"There ya go, you actually have $836, have a nice day!\"", "Tony didn't mind waking up in hell. Sure, there were lakes of lava here and there, a couple of poison ivy fields where slaves were whipped into harvesting them barehanded, and a giant three-headed dog barking at anyone who whined about being in hell, but he was very aware he deserved to end up here. After all he was an intellectual, a human being enlightened by his own scientific knowledge, he was... an atheist. \n\nIf the Christians ended up being right, well what else could he do? Cry and get barked at by a three-headed dog? If anything could be said to his credit, Tony was a man who stuck to his guns, even if he ended up proven wrong at the end of his life. At least the never went back on his beliefs... or lack thereof. \n\nNo, Tony didn't mind being hell. What he did mind was the constant waiting at every corner of the damned place. He'd always heard about bureaucratic hells, but he never expected them to be named after the plane of existence.\n\n\"Could this mean those yellow minions were designed by Satan himself?\" thought the man.\n\nHe slumped back into his chair with a sigh, looking at the queue number again. It said: 3,675,742 , just one more turn until his number was called. Time sort of losses its meaning when you're stuck for eternity somewhere, but if Tony had to guess, he'd been waiting for years now to get settled into hell. First he had to request his personal records, containing every sin he'd ever committed, then he had to reserve a spot as a home for his stay, and then he had to deposit his suffering on his personal Hell Account, which of course he had to open through tons of tedious paperwork beforehand. \n\nAfter looking back on all the redtape he had overcome, he wondered if the people getting barked at were crying out of ending up in hell or all of the excessive bureaucracy they had to go through. Ding went the queue bell, meaning that it was finally time to deposit his suffering. He stood up from his chair, wished the apathetic people in the room a good day, and entered an office with a horned man sitting behind its desk. \n\n\"Ahh Anthony Smith, is it?\" said the demon typing on a computer. \"I've had your files brought to me and we'd like to thank you for choosing Hell as your afterlife destination. Soon, your suffering will be deposited into your Hell Account and you'll be well on your way to enjoying Hell for eternity.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" said Tony, \"but I'm still not quite clear on what this suffering business means. I'm... I'm not even sure why I've been doing all of this. I've just been pushed around from office to office and I'd like to get some answers right now!\"\n\n\"But of course Mr. Smith! It's the least I could do. You see, here in hell, all the suffering in your life is compiled from your records and deposited into an account to be used as currency.\"\n\n\"Currency? What for?!? We're in hell, aren't we? You know, eternal punishment and all that, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, that's a comment I hear often, but worry not, you are indeed in hell.\" The demon leaned back on his leather chair. \"You see Satan isn't really that bad a guy. He's more about giving the middle finger to God than about torturing humans for their sins.\"\n\n\"Oh... that seems reasonable, I guess. But why suffering?\"\n\n\"Well, the ol' fallen angel reasoned it this way. If a person committed a lot of sins and suffered, you can't really judge them fairly, now can you?\" \n\nTony looked puzzled, prompting the demon to continue. \n\n\"You see, sinning and suffering are closely related to one another. In a way, suffering pushes you to sin, which gives you more suffering, which makes you sin some more. The whole thing really snowballs out of hand, making a proper judgement a bit of a crapshoot.\" \n\n\"I still don't follow... Why does Satan even care about this?\"\n\n\"Remember, Lucifer only cares about pissing off his Dad. He doesn't mind ruling over sinners. He's one himself! The thing is, would you really want to share a place with people who've sinned but haven't suffered because of it?\" \n\nBefore Tony could answer, the demon went ahead and said:\n\n\"Of course not! Those people are sociopaths! Anyone who hasn't suffered because of their sins is someone who wouldn't mind starting trouble here in hell. Someone who has never regretted any atrocious act committed in his life time! We don't want any of that, so we basically made slaves out of those too poor to pay for their stay and treat fairly those who accumulated enough suffering in their life.\"\n\nTony scratched his head and rested it on his hand. He then took a deep breath and said:\n\n\"This... this makes too much sense. But right now, I'm sort of scared. Can you please tell me how much I suffered?\" \n\nThe demon nodded at his request and began typing away at his keyboard. His bushy eyebrows suddenly raised once the computer bleeped, prompting him to type furiously into the keyboard again. After waiting another minute, the computer beeped once more, forcing the demon to say:\n\n\"I'm sorry Mr. Smith, but there seems but some problem with the system right now.\" He stood up. \"I'll have to talk to my supervisor. If you'll excuse me...\"\n\nOutside, Tony could faintly hear some arguing going on. He then wondered if this was just an elaborate plot to make this whole process even more tedious, but quickly reasoned that the desperation in their voices was genuine. The demon then entered the office, wiping sweat off his forehead as he sat back down on his chair. \n\n\"Mr. Smith, it seems congratulations are in order! As of now, you are currently the richest person in hell... Even richer than Satan himself! How someone could endure that much suffering on Earth is a mystery to me, but it seems to have paid out in the end.\"\n\n\"Is this some sort of prank? Sure, I've had a miserable life, but I wouldn't exactly think myself special in my suffering.\"\n\n\"Well, I can safely say this isn't a mistake. For record keeping purposes, would you mind explaining the details of your suffering?\" \n\n\"Like I said, I don't think there's anything special about my suffering. Sure, ever since I was a young adult a day wouldn't pass without me wanting to kill myself, but that's perfectly reasonable for anyone with existential angst, right?\"\n\n\"Your records say you never did go through with it, so maybe the accumulated dread had something to do with it. That's still not enough, though. Any dead family members or loved ones?\"\n\n\"No, not really. I was mostly shunned by my family and I never really lost anyone close to me.\"\n\n\"Shunned by your family?\" The demon stroked his chin, leaning his elbow on the desk. \"Could you elaborate on that?\"\n\n\"It's simple really. They were Christian; I wasn't. Made me the black sheep of the family and all that stuff. It really pissed me off, though not because of their disapproval.\"\n\n\"Really? Why then?\"\n\n\"Because they weren't really Christian! They were just all talk and no action. They complained about everything, never appreciated what they had or went out of their way to help anyone! Heck, I was a more of a Christian than them and I didn't even believe in God!\"\n\nThe demon let out a roaring laugh, almost chocking on his own chuckles while slamming his desk. He then read Tony's files on his monitor, just to be sure, and said:\n\n\"I finally get it now!\" He laughed again. \"It all makes sense!\"\n\n\"Really?\" said Tony. \"It does?\"\n\n\"You suffered this much because you were a living contradiction. All of these good deeds would've easily gotten you into heaven, but didn't, because you were an atheist. Your life was miserable because you were a true Christian that didn't believe in God!\" \n\n>If you enjoyed this, you can check out more of my stories over at /r/WeirdEmoKidStories!", "Who knew civil service would pay off like this?\n\n\"Good morning, Mr. Monassis.\" Now I knew who the well-dressed man shaking my hand was. I can't really explain how I knew to those of you reading this who are still alive. Suffice it to say there's kind of a psychic commentary track in the afterlife that feeds you information that you don't get in life (or maybe we get it, we just don't know how to read it, idunno).\n\n\"You're the Morning Star.\"\n\nHe smiles nervously. \"You flatter me with your formality, sir. Please, call me Lou.\"\n\n\"I don't understand, this is Hell, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. Welcome. I'd pay you my condolences, but, ah-\" He gestures around my room with a chuckle. Yes, this is my room. I... 'spawned' here, or whatever. I remember how they shot part of Devil's Advocate in an apartment owned by Donald Trump because they needed something gaudy and obviously expensive. This room was slightly nicer than that, as though a set designer paid extra to turn the gaudiness down just a little.\n\n\"So wait... is my afterlife like Brewster's Millions, where I gotta spend a shitload of money every day until it becomes a chore? 'Cause that's not exactly ironic.\" One of the books my mom insisted I read in my youth was Your Money Or Your Life, and one of the steps they have you do is figuring out lifetime how much money you've ever made. Now, I had done the math probably five years before I died, but even factoring in that extra time, I was probably hovering around two hundred grand. At thirty. The vast majority of which came in during the last decade in the dead-end shit job I died on my way home from.\n\nLucifer is still chuckling in his pin-striped worsted wool. I can't decide if he kinda looks like David Bowie or if I'm kind of telekinetically making him look like David Bowie because of that one piece of fanart. \"No no, nothing like that. Although we would very much appreciate your patronage if that was your intention.\" His teeth are fucking perfect.\n\nIt's at this moment that I finally glanced down at what I'm wearing. I didn't really notice because of how impossibly comfortable the thing is, but it looks like an athletic cut three-piece suit, black with a vague green shimmer at shallow angles, so light it's like wearing nothing at all (nothing at all (^nothing ^at ^all )). Also my gut fat is gone, like I got some heavenly lipo when I wasn't looking. I probably look great naked.\n\n\"That you do, sir.\"\n\n\"You can read my thoughts?\"\n\n\"...wuh I-\"\n\n\"Don't do that, it's rude.\"\n\nHe's flustered. \"I-I-I didn't mean to intrude, Mr. Monassis.\"\n\nThat's another cruel twist of fate. My mother named me Alec. Alec Monassis, which every ten-year-old interprets as \"I lick man asses.\" It's right up there with Isaac Cox. It wasn't until I went away to college that I was able to get people to start calling me Al, and then another year before I finally heard that song people kept referencing.\n\n\"Explain what the hell is happening here, and do it succinctly.\" Yeah. SAT words.\n\n\"Well, sir, when your tire blew out, you veered off the road and the support column drove the engine block through your-\"\n\n\"No, I remember that part. Get to the metaphysical shit.\"\n\n\"Well.\" The nervous smile snaps to a no-nonsense briefing pose. \"Put simply, suffering is currency here. You're rich.\"\n\n\"And you're being nice to me because you're like a politician?\" How like Earth.\n\n\"Yes and no. I am rather like a politician.\" On that afterlife info track I mentioned is the awareness that what most people think of as 'the devil' is actually about a dozen distinct entities, and that the representation closes to the truth actually comes from fucking D&D of all things. \"But no, I'm not being nice to you for short term political gain, I'm being nice to you because, long term, it's always wise to be kind to your superiors.\"\n\n...this is a lot to take in.\n\n\"Take your time.\"\n\nWhat'd I just say?\n\n\"Sorry. Habit.\"\n\nI have five or six pertinent questions swirling around in my brain (among them, 'do I still have a brain'), but the one I decide to output first is, \"So what exactly is my net worth?\"\n\n\"Fourteen-point-three trillion fuckits.\"\n\nI let out a short, surprised laugh. \"That's the unit?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. One fuckit is the suffering equivalent of a one on that one-to-ten pain scale hospitals use. A minor but definite discomfort.\"\n\n\"Is that linear?\"\n\n\"No, it's logarithmic. And it's not absolute; maximal human physical pain is only about three hundred thousand fuckits. Emotional pain goes...\" he laughs, \"way, way beyond that.\"\n\nMakes sense. The most intense physical pain I ever felt in my life was when I had an infected filling in one of my molars when I was ten. We couldn't get to a dentist until Monday, so I spent that Sunday afternoon writhing in pain in my bed. The kind of pain that turns off conscious thought. The most intense emotional pain I can remember is when my ex-wife first told me she was fucking somebody else, and I would've given anything to switch places with ten-year-old me just to make it not true.\n\n\"And you're telling me that in three decades, I amassed fourteen trillion points of emotional damage.\"\n\nHe smirks. \"That is a novel way to look at it, but yes, sir. That is your current situation. You're dead, you're in Hell, and you're a multitrillionaire. The underworld is your oyster.\"\n\nThe first place my mind went to was Iraq. Now I admit, I haven't really been happy in my life in a very long time, and I've never really been grateful for my life, but surely there's some single parents in Iraq who had to bury part of their only child who've suffered worse than me.\n\nDevil Bowie is looking at me expectantly, so I subconsciously grant him permission to respond to that thought.\n\nHe lights up like a kid at Christmas and claps once, summoning a large dry erase board and quickly sketches a graph. \"Well you see here, people in warzones become jaded very quickly, so their rate of appreciation levels off. Spikes of course occur pretty much any time fight-or-flight is invoked, but they mostly become numb to it.\" He flips the board over revealing identical axes but without the hypothetical war survivor's 'my life is hell' line. \"You, in a manner that only depressive nihilists can, didn't get numb to the suffering of your dead-end job, you dwelt in it. You let every single little thing that went wrong penetrate you to your very core and you blamed only yourself for it. That time Beth spilled her coffee all over your ergonomic keyboard? All those promotions you were passed up for? To say nothing of the massive head start you got for having an absent father.\" I would find out later that there's sort of a high-end gentlemen's club for sons whose fathers abandoned them.\n\n\"I just... Harlequin babies.\"\n\n\"Die too young, have no frame of reference. Pain is their 'normal.'\"\n\n\"Addicts?\"\n\n\"Please, if what they were doing didn't feel good they wouldn't be addicts. I coded that little feedback loop myself.\"\n\n\"Huh. But like, I was never beaten or anything.\"\n\n\"No, your family relied much more on emotional abuse, which as I said can rack up fuckits way faster than physical pain. Your brother was supremely manipulative because, as you so saliently observed, he blamed you for your father leaving.\"\n\nI was a month old. Years later I would wish I could go back and scream at him, if dad leaving is anybody's fault, motherfucker, it's yours! Hindsight being what it is.\n\n\"So because my childhood was kind of shitty, and my job wasn't that great, I'm now the richest person in Hell?\"\n\n\"Ah-hah, well, no, you're not the richest person in Hell.\"\n\n\"Are you?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"What are you worth?\"\n\n\"Ten trillion.\"\n\n\"...whose the richest?\"\n\n\"Well, if he were to die today, Keanu Reeves would be worth about twice as much as you.\" He smiles. \"But of course he can't actually die.\" He sighs the way one might at the end of a fond anecdote.\n\n\"...excuse me?\"\n\n\"Look, all of this exposition must be draining. Surely there are some better things we could do to welcome you to the dark side.\"\n\n\"Such as?\"\n\n\"Drugs and whores?\"\n\nOn that supernatural info track is the understanding that what he's implying is any imaginable drug. Any imaginable whore. Any fantasy I could conceive of can be made real. I could take mushrooms and fuck Sasha Grey (or a convincing facsimile). I could pop an NZT and get deep throated by Plava Laguna.\n\nI could get a second chance with my first love.\n\n\"Can you sell me a self-driving car?\"\n\nThere's a warmth behind his smile that I can't really convey. \"What color?\"", "I don't remember dying. As I have come to learn, this is fairly common. One moment I was sitting in front of my computer and moments later I found myself standing in line. I had lost time before. My mind had been deteriorating for years. Suddenly finding myself in an unfamiliar location had become so common that it took me the better part of a day to realize that something was amiss with the line. \n\nInitially, it was hard to focus. Something about the process of moving forward slowly seemed familiar. It seemed like most of my life had been spent waiting for something to happen. The line was no different. I had no idea why I was in line, but I lacked any real desire to step out of line. That first day was confusing. It was as if I was slowly moving forward on autopilot. \n\nI can only assume that it took me a day or so to find myself. Time has lost meaning. It could have been a day or a year. I have no way to measure my time spent shuffling slowly toward the gate. It was only when I realized that I was in a line that I began to think about the nature of the line. I suppose it says something about my life that I had been in Hell for the better part of a day and I didn't even notice. \n\nFreedom came with the realization that I could step out of line. It sounds stupid, but at that point it felt like a victory. I stepped slightly to the left and the light behind me shuffled forward enough to fill the gap. I turned to the line and then to the right. The line seemed to stretch further than I could attempt to conceive. It faded into the horizon. Upon looking to my left I could see a faint glimmer of light in the distance. \n\nWalking at a brisk pace, I was able to reach the source of the light in what felt like a little under an hour. As I've said before time has kinda lost meaning here. The two things I noticed as I approached the light were the heat and the growing feeling of dread. My location and final resting place were made apparent to me when I looked at the large archway in front of me. Etched into the obsidian arch were the words, \"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.\"\n\n---\n\nI breached the archway expecting to be met with monstrous creatures and eternal flame. Instead, I was met with sweltering heat and humidity that left me feeling like I was breathing water. It was painful, sure, but it wasn't much worse than summer in Tennessee. I noticed a middle-aged man in a generic business outfit holding a clipboard. He seemed completely unfazed by the surroundings and completely indifferent to the individuals at the front of the line who screamed as they were dragged into the darkness. \n\nI approached him saying, \"Excuse me sir, but is this Hell?\"\n\nThe man turned his head toward me and raised his eyebrow. \n\nI spoke again, \"Yeah. So, I'm pretty sure I'm dead. Would you mind telling me where I'm supposed to go now?\"\n\nWithout hesitation he spoke into a microphone attached to his lapel and said, \"We got a line jumper at the gate. Send a team for an audit.\"\n\nMoments later I felt strong hands grab my shoulders from behind. I was pulled into the darkness. My last thoughts as the light from the gate faded into the distance was that Hell wasn't nearly as terrible as I had been taught. \n\n---\nThe darkness remained constant. It was only after realizing that I'd never see again that I started to see the hellscape that surrounded me. It was dark and silent. If anyone else had been nearby, I couldn't hear them. At first I thought my eyes where adjusting to the darkness, but in time I realized I didn't have eyes anymore. I was dead. My body was up on Earth and I was existing as something incorporeal. Don't ask me why, but I found the lack of a physical form almost comforting. My body had been a constant source of pain and suffering. I had no cartilage in my knees or shoulders. Most of my bones were held together with steel plates. My muscles had been slowly slipping into atrophy. I think part of the reason I found Hell to be so refreshing was because I didn't feel that pain anymore. \n\nSure, it was hot. It was hot and I felt a thirst that should have been maddening. There was this empty pit at the core of my soul that seemed to devour all light or happiness as soon as it arrived. My every thought left me questioning my own sanity. Still, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had been told about. Life had been such a terrible thing that the prospect of eternity in this form seemed heavenly. No sooner than I had come to that realization, I saw the room for what it was. \n\nI was sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair and at rusted metal table in a small room. The individual across from me flipped through a manila folder and nodded on occasion before turning the page. I began to speak up, but the individual held up a single bony finger and said, \"Hold on Sir, I'm still familiarizing myself with your file.\"\n\nAn inordinate amount of time passed. Finally, I heard the individual say, \"I'm going to need to contact my superiors. Please, wait here.\"\n\nMoments later a yellow fluorescent light flickered on above me. The room was gray and dull as I had expected. A tall man in a business suit walked in the door and sat down in front of me. He scanned through the manila folder and proceeded to throw it at the wall in frustration. Shortly after composing himself, he turned to me and said,\n\n\"Come with me. We have much to discuss.\"\n\n---\n\nThe tall man walked alongside me. As we moved down the seemingly endless hallway, he said, \"Mr. Jones, your audit has put me into a difficult situation.\"\n\nI continued alongside him and said, \"How so?\"\n\nThe man sighed and said, \"Punishment here works off of a simple system. We weigh your sin against your suffering.\"\n\nI replied, \"How does that work?\"\n\nHe perked up a bit as he replied, \"We take your total lifetime sin record and treat it as a simple number. In your case it is a score of 3200. You weren't a terrible human being, but you were a bit of a prick. There were times in your life where you could have helped others without injuring yourself and you chose to remain selfish. You were a drunk and a cynic. You were prideful and arrogant. 3200 is an average score. You'd have spent eternity is customer service completely aware of your situation and unable to be anything other than pleasant.\"\n\nI shuddered at the thought and shot back, \"So what makes my case so difficult for you?\"\n\nHe replied, \"Your suffering score was more than three billion. To date, only one being has scored so high. You see, we divide your suffering score by your sin score. If the resulting dividend is greater than your sin score, it is then allotted to you as currency. This currency can be spent on a variety of things. For the rich, hell is almost comfortable\"\n\nI did some math in my head and replied, \"So you're saying I'm a millionaire?\"\n\nThe man sighed and said, \"We're here, and yes.\"\n\nI turned to my left to see a ornate wooden door. The tall man pushed it open and said, \"Sir, I've delivered him per your request.\"\n\nA tall man in a white suit sat behind a mahogany desk. His blonde hair and pale skin were surprisingly clean given what I had seen thus far. The man slid a cigar box across the desk and said, \"Cigar?\"\n\nI sat across from him and pulled a cigar from the box. He lit it for me and I took in the smoke. I spent a short moment trying to wrap my mind around the concept of an incoporeal being smoking a cigar, but the man in white intterrupted my thought saying, \"It's easier if you don't think about it. For the time being, assume that your current form is a projection of self imprinted on the ether that surrounds you. Most of the surroundings down here react to your expectations of them-\"\n\nI interrupted, \"So basically, Hell is subjective.\"\n\nThe man smiled and said, \"Exactly.\"\n\n---\n\n\"When my father tasked me with managing this domain, my only sins were Pride and Disobedience. However, my suffering score was offset by the pain of being separated from divinity. I still feel that. A few billion divided by two, it was like this place was made for me.\" The man said.\n\nI laughed and said, \"So you're Satan. Cool.\"\n\nSatan laughed and said, \"My given name is Helel ben Shaḥar, but most people down here call me Luc.\"\n\nI replied, \"So Luc, why am I in your office.\"\n\n\"Down to brass tacks. I like it.\" Luc said with a certain degree of delight.\n\nHe continued, \"By nature of your score, you should be in charge. However, I don't like that arrangement very much. Some might say it is unfair, but hey, Welcome To Hell.\"\n\nI replied, \"It isn't really all that bad.\"\n\nLuc laughed and said, \"Tell that to the pedophiles. I have an entire team of horror writers tasked with thinking up new and inventive punishments for them. Like I've said, Hell is subjective.\"\n\n\"Allow me to get to the point Mr. Jones. Your scores are too high and I don't feel like giving up my throne just yet. Were you to stay, you'd be afforded an eternity of luxury and comfort. It would still be unpleasant, but a hell with cold drinks and fine cigars beats slumming it in the Malbolge.\" Luc said as his face shifted to a grimace.\n\nI nodded.\n\nHe continued, \"It is within my power to send you back to Earth. You will continue to live your life. The problem is that you'd be back in forty years with a higher score. That is unacceptable. So I'll be restoring your body and curing the brain cancer that has left you with a deteriorating mind. You will be made whole.\"\n\nI sighed and said, \"So I take it you want me to sin my ass off.\"\n\nHe smiled and said, \"Well, I am giving you life...\"\n\n---\n\nWithout anything that could pass as a transition, I found myself sitting at my computer. The pain I had grown accustomed to had faded. I felt rejuvenated. My mind was as clear as it had ever been. I looked at the bottle in front of me and then down to the floor. I whispered the first prayer I'd uttered in my life,\n\n\"Don't worry Luc, I'll make sure to shave a few hundred thousand off that score.\"", "\"Spend it,\" Amahle gasped, writhing backwards on the iron bed. The demons grovelled around her, claws clutching at the edges of her limbs, their mouths eager, their teeth bared. She had been pierced through her side. Her ears rung with the endless rushing sound of claws raking through coins.The pain spilled out like coins, like kidney stones, like burning coals, each one as bright and as hot as she had experienced it in life. The pang of hunger. Her fifth child being born. The hot smell of blood. \"Spend it!\" she screamed, \"spend it, spend it, spend it! Give it away! Take it! Take as much as you need, take all that you want!\" \n\n\"Oh, oh, oh,\" a demon moaned. Its face loomed in front of her, bristling black fur and a hairless mouth spotted with sores. \"So generous! So kind!\" Its teeth parted, its maw slavered, a forked tongue flickering out. Amahle could feel the tips of its fur brushing her face like sand fly bites. \"But there are rules that must be followed even in Hell, kind Mistress. If we were to take your wealth - oh!\" The surrounding retinue shrilled in like-minded fear. \"A humble demon like me, with riches like yours - they would snatch me up, accuse me of thievery!\" It grovelled before her, ground its face into the dirt. \n\nShe grabbed a fist of its fur, feeling the sting like nettles, pulling it back up. \"Then spend it!\" she screamed. \"Buy anything! Buy everything! Buy all that you can!\"\n\n\"Oh, but we have, dear Mistress!\" it crooned back eagerly, diverting her face to the side. Demons stumbled out, bent over double, deformed by the weight of her pain. They crawled, they writhed, heavy footfalls shuddering the ground. And as they left another endless line came in, bearing twisted statues of obsidian, ornate armfuls of gold, scrolls and deeds and brightly gleaming jewels. \"Look, look,\" the demon cried, as they lifted her bed from under her, bore her like a queen to a window. An endless palace of Hell was being constructed before her, towers rising, the screams of workers being crushed underneath. \"We have bought you all your money can buy!\" it sang. \"All the great sights and wonders of Hell, all the crown jewels of our Lord. We have bought you souls and slaves and servants, we have bought up the great pits, the endless plains of flame! These, and all things, are yours, great Mistress!\"\n\n\"But it doesn't end,\" Amahle gasped, sweat standing out in bullets on her head. Her pain continued to spill forth without signs of slowing, the greedy eager claws clutching for it on the floor. \"I did not - I could have not suffered so much in life! There was an end to it! By God! There was an end to it!\" She screamed as another rush of pain tore through her. \"Spend it! Spend it! Spend it all!\" \n\n\"Ah,\" said the demon, and it made a breath like a sigh. Its mouth hung open, its many many teeth in the arrangement of a smile. \"Of course, you do not understand, do you, O Mistress? You had so little for yourself while alive, that you could not imagine the truth of it.\" \n\n\"What is it,\" she moaned. The air hung around her like sweat. All of them, all of the demons were smiling. \n\n\"Money breeds money, dear Mistress,\" it crooned. \"You have bought up the properties of Hell, you have reduced Satan to a mere pauper. O Mistress! You are richer than when you began!\" ", "I was beginning to black out when it happened. That day hadn't been the best day of my life, and it just so happened that it had been my last. At precisely 2:23pm and 37 seconds past, after burning my hands on overcooked fried chicken, I was hit by three falling beer barrels that had rolled off of a Heineken truck, of course, Heineken was my favourite beer, and as I sat underneath those barrels, bleeding and being crushed, I found that I couldn't even reach the taps. 8 minutes and 16 seconds later, everything had begun to fade, paramedics were rushing around, but they'd only just arrived, people were screaming, and some stupid chihuahua was barking its head off- I hate those tiny rat-dogs. \n\nSome time later, I awoke in a bed, at least, I'd been lying on something. I wouldn't have called it a bed as such though, because it was made from rocks; so perhaps not an NHS hospital bed. I groggily sat up and blinked hard, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and taking in my surroundings. In an instant, I knew exactly where I was; the same stalagmites and stalactites; the same dusty air; the same- perhaps the dripping was new, but it was definitely Chislehurst caves. I remembered visiting hospital shortly after a school trip here, Tim Greene had thrown a rock at the ceiling, and it had caused a stalactite to fall off the ceiling and go through my left foot. Tim hadn't meant to stab me in the foot, but it did hurt like hell, and I had to use crutches for a month. \n\nAs I walked around, I began to notice several things that seemed out of place. The first of which, was that there seemed to be metal rails bolted in place at quite a few points in what seemed to be a tunnel section; the second of which, was that despite not being able to hear anyone, there seemed to be a general murmur; the third thing, was that I could see everything clearly, despite the absence of any lamps or torches nearby; finally, I realised that I myself wasn't panicking- or breathing- and that I could find neither the capacity or gumption to do either. I decided that given what was available to me, the best thing to do, would be to walk onwards.\n\nAs I was guided along by the rails and the tunnel, I saw a large, bronze looking door at the end of tunnel, with the inscription: \n\n\n\"Per me si va ne la città dolente, \nper me si va ne l'etterno dolore,\nper me si va tra la perduta gente. \nGiustizia mosse il mio alto fattore: \nfecemi la divina potestate, \nla somma sapienza e 'l primo amore. \nDinanzi a me non fuor cose create \nse non etterne, e io etterno duro. \nLasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'entrate\" \n\nrunning around the edge. Having had to miss latin, because of the fact that I had eaten an under-cooked sausage, which had given me acute food poisoning, and meant I had to repeat a year (which put me in the year that studied home economics instead of latin); I couldn't really read it. A few words jumped out, like divina, etterno, duro, and me, but I don't think they meant what I thought they did. I turned around, ready to go back and call an ambulance, when I realised that behind me, a large wall had... appeared, I guess; I certainly hadn't heard anything anyway. \n\nObviously, the only course of action, was to open the door, and after some thorough handle searching, I located one at the right side at about 3 o'clock. I gave it a tug, and it clicked. I gave it another tug, and there was a rusty scraping. A third tug, and it slid open towards me- nearly backing me into the new wall. As I stepped through, I was greeted by what must have been millions of people waiting in very long cues to various different booths, reminiscent of airport security passport checks. As I began to wonder if I was in the right place, a young man with neat black hair, deathly pale skin, and a clipboard, walked towards me. \n\n\"Name?\" the man half asked, half shouted into his clipboard, now going through it with a pencil attached to it by a string. \"James. Jame-James Harvey?\" I asked. \"You don't seem so sure\" joked the man. \"I am\" I mumbled to myself, but he musn't have heard it, because he was going through his notes, obviously looking for a James Harvey. \"So where am I?\" I asked, the man held up a finger on the hand that was holding the pencil, and I realised that things wouldn't be done on my terms. The man had obviously found my name, as he had been looking at it with a scowl, and he was no longer moving the pencil. I tried to walk behind him, but he turned around. I tried to look over, and he tilted the clipboard towards himself. \"What's the problem?\" I asked. He held up his finger once again, and I huffed and folded my arm, then decided it was a waste of time, I hadn't had anything planned, and I didn't have any friends to plan anything with, so perhaps I could try to make a start. \n\nThe man pulled out a radio, pressed the transmit button and began to speak into it, he'd walked away now, and he was telling me to stay back- once again through the use of hand gestures- I therefore didn't hear all of his end, but I picked up small phrases like \"Alan, it's Collin, I think there's a-\" and \"Are you sure\" and \"Fff-, boss is going to be-\" and \"He knows? Oh. So-\" and \"Well, I'll bring him over, treat him like normal right?\". Collin holstered the radio along his belt. \"James, I'd like it if while you were here, you weren't interrupting my business, I'm trying to make things a little faster for you here.\" Collin told me briskly. I was a little taken aback, but given the circumstances, I thought it best to do as he said. \"Come on now James, we have things to do\". \n\nAs we pushed through the queues, weaving in and out of them to get to one of the booths, I noticed they weren't offering any real resistance- in fact, we seemed to almost go through them. \"What about them?\" I asked Collin; \"would you rather I helped each and every one of them, and then I got to you?\" Collin retorted, getting more and more visibly irritated, I couldn't really think of an answer to that, I mean, sure, people should be selfless, but in all honesty, the sheer amount of people waiting in line looked like given Collin's process, things would have taken years. Giving up on me answering Collin added \"I thought not. Now, come along, I still have to sort them out, and I really haven't got all day\". \n\nAfter what had felt like hours of walking through these miles of queues, we reached the booths. A wrinkled old woman was hunched over the desk. \"Collin\" she smiled \"and I see we have a new guest\" she said as she turned to me. I'd never been first in line, and naturally turned to check how many other people I'd just queue jumped. Strangely enough, there wasn't a soul in line. Just as well, the quiet chatter was beginning to unnerve me. The old lady laughed and leaned back in her chair. I noticed her name tag on her white blouse \"Alaine\" it read. It had seven black stars underneath it, two black lines in-between, and a white border at the edges; as I took in the details and counted things, I began to calm down again. \"So, name, Mr Harvey?\" she smirked \"Jame- hang on, don't you already know my name?\". Alaine cackled and then answered \"Always gets 'em, and there's not too much fun to be had down here, so take it while we can, is what I say\" she wiped a tear from her eye as she stopped laughing, and smiled at me once again. \"Where exactly is here?\" I asked. At this stage, I didn't really want the answer. \n\n\n\"Did Collin not tell you?\" she tutted at Collin, and put her hand over mine \"do you not know?\" I moved her hand, and asked \"know what?\". \"There's no easy way to say this James, but you're dead\" she said. She smiled sympathetically, and grabbed my hand once again, taking a breath in to say something that was no doubt sympathetic, but probably patronising. \"Well, I knew that some barrels of Heineken landed on me, but dead? With my luck, I suppose it was inevitable\". Alaine laughed \"at least you're not too hung up about it, and before you interrupted, I was about to tell you something you might like to hear.\" I smiled a little. So I was dead. So what. All my life had been an uphill struggle, and to rest for a bit seemed like a nice idea; of course, I had no idea if I would be resting, but I could hope. After all, other than cutting off Jemma's hair in year three, I hadn't really done anything too bad, of course, that's not to say I was a bastion of morality and goodness, but I did my best, and if this was some kind of afterlife, maybe things would work themselves out. I didn't believe in karma, but at this stage, some of my beliefs had gone out the window anyway. \n\n\n\n", "Frank Grimes, or Grimey as he liked to be called, woke with a start. There was a stench of sulfur in the air and in the distance he could hear wails of countless tormented voices.\n\nWell this wasn't the hospital again that was for sure. That incompetent Dr. Hibbert couldn't even keep himself away from the laughing gas for more then five seconds that his giggling would be heard at least 3 floors away. Dusting himself off he wondered around the cave he had been placed in, pondering what cruel god had given him another adversity to face. He thought back to the last thing he remembered, a white hot seething rage that seemed to consume him. The applause in the auditorium, the imbecilic faces of his coworkers beeming at him.\n\nThat was it, he must be dead, he had probably forgotten to release the safety valve working on his project. Well woop-de-doo, a life time of hard work, of second - third and fourth jobs just to get by. Of delivering presents to rich kids whilst you had to get by on nothing. Spending every waking last moment not spent trying to pay of the ridiculous medical bills studying to better himself so that one day after 35 miserable years on this earth. One day Frank Grimes can sit back and drink a cold one.\n\nSo this must be hell. Stepping out onto some kind of balcony above some kind of plain. Below, the minions of the dark lord went about their business. Scanning the horizon Frank heard the cackle of fire as a beastly man appeared before him. He was seven foot tall, with the lower half of a goat and the upper half of a mustachioed man.\n\n\"Hi diddly-ho Damned-a-rino and welcome to your new home-diddly-home.\" He began, \"You'll find your keys to the Grimes Palace under its door mat. I have placed your monkey butler on stand by. He'll be ready to tend to your every need-doodly-need.\"\n\n\"Whaaaa? Aren't you going to torture me? Poke me with pitchforks, gouge my eyes out with ravens beaks? Punish me in ironic ways?\"\n\n\"Oh heavens no, you won-diddly-won the jackpot Frank-er-ino, down here the suffering you endured on Earth gives you worth down here with the rest of us damn-der-onies. Between you and me, you probably have more clout down here then me, the old bub himself.\"\n\nFrank was in awe as he was lead to a sparkling mansion, resplendent in jewels and scantily clad ladies. Inside the monkey butlers were there to tender to his every whim. With a click of his fingers he could summon the damned to entertain him when he was bored. And you know what, he had lobsters for dinner, every night. He spent no time struggling through atomic physics books, instead he spent time just sipping the coldest beers straight from the tap.\n\nAll was good for Frank, nothing could lessen his spirits. Until one day, just as he was beginning to unwind from the horrors that had befell him in his mortal life, he returned from an evening stroll to find his mansion being removed by gruff looking men in dirty overalls. Demanding an answer one finally took a drag on his cigarette.\n\n\"Sorrys but this has gots to go\"\n\n\"Why\"\n\n\"Orders from the new bawss, we's building a new bowling alley here tomorrows, Hey Barry, whos the new bawss again?\" he called to his collegue who just happened to be moving Franks favourite statue.\n\n\"Homer Simpson, from Sector 7G\"\n\nFrank dropped to his knees and let out a wail as the Devil sat cackling from his throne of skulls.\n\n\"Shut up Flanders\" came a shout from a window above.\n\n\"Okiliy Dokily\".", "So, Hell. I never used to give too much thought to the afterlife, but I always thought I was a decent person. I was faithful to my wife, friendly to my neighbors, a volunteer at the soup kitchen on weekends. I didn’t commit any crimes (beyond the occasional speeding ticket) or cheat on my taxes. I smiled a lot, and I went to church occasionally.\n\n“It’s not really your fault, sir,” my orientation imp, Ashrax, consoled me. “Himself Above is just crazy about that ‘no-shellfish’ thing. Used to be, like, three books of the Bible, but one of your popes cut it for brevity, and I guess people stopped paying attention to it.” The imp wrinkled its nose. “I’d say about four-fifths of the people here are in for shellfish. Always seemed kind of excessive to me. I wonder if Himself is allergic.”\n\nWe were walking down Brimstone Ave., Hell’s main drag. Once you got past the wailing, the over-use of fire as a thematic element, and the constant smell of sulfur (“millennia of farts trapped down here,” Ashrax said with a wink), Hell was… surprisingly normal. Earlier, when I had expressed surprise that the check-in demons used iPads, Ashrax just shrugged. “Steve Jobs parked in a lot of handicapped spaces, sir.”\n\nUp ahead, I saw a dark, Gothic mansion perched on a black volcanic hill, overlooking a classical lake of fire. Admiring the wrought iron gates depicting the murder of nonbelievers, I asked Ashrax who lived there. “Used to be Satan, of course. Great parties here. Once a month the damned would get together and roast one of the gluttonous on a spit, which is great because unfortunately the food here is pretty bad, sir.” Seeing my face, the imp hurried on. “Umm. Right. Sorry. I forgot you’re new. Anyway, he lost his house when the suffering bubble dried up after the financial crisis, so as of today, Satan’s being kicked out.”\n\n“Satan was kicked out? By who, God?”\n\n“No, sir.” Ashrax smiled impishly. “By you.” \n\n* * * * \n\nThat night – or what passed for night in a dark, timeless cavern – Ashrax arranged a Life Viewing in my private theater to explain things. A few of the house demons I had met attended as well. There was the butler, Snooj, a prim satyr; Corthrax, my imp driver (no relation, Ashrax assured me); and the pool boy, Gorfu, a 12-foot golem comprised of molten magma.\n\n“I still feel like there must have been some kind of mistake,” I said for at least the fourth time. “I was pretty happy in life.”\n\n“Of course you were, sir.” Snooj clapped me on the back. “Of course you were.” He signaled to Gorfu, who used his huge fist to start the projector and, inadvertently, several fires. \n\nI watched, dumbstruck, as a seemingly alternate version of my life played out before me. I saw myself as a baby, playing in the crib just like in our home movies… while my parents, drunk and belligerent, screamed at each other. “Let’s move on,” I said quickly, as my mom broke a beer bottle on my crib and lunged for my dad’s throat. \n\nI always wondered where that scar on dad’s neck came from.\n\nI saw myself, age five, playing with chemicals I found in the garage. I watched, powerless, as five year old me drank a tall glass of… something. “Antifreeze, sir,” Snooj said, clicking his hoofs together sympathetically. “That’s why you were bad at math.”\n\nI saw an endless string of humiliating rejections and failures as an adolescent. Girls avoiding me, friends making faces at me behind my back, my little league baseball team telling me the wrong time for the start of the playoff game. A lot of Fs in math. It all culminated in Michelle Adams’s dumping me at a Valentine’s Day dance for – in her words – “literally anybody else in the world.” \n\nThen she punched me in the stomach and stole my wallet. I had forgotten about that part.\n\nThrough it all, the version of myself I saw on the screen was amazingly resilient. Or maybe just oblivious, I amended, watching myself walk down the street reading a book as my sister shot at me – and missed – with a high-powered rifle. “You’ll never collect the insurance money that way,” my dad said, but his aim wasn’t any better. \n\nOn-screen, I whistled as I went along my way.\n\nThe hits just kept coming. There were gasps as my soon-to-be-wife showed up late to the ceremony because she had to fix her hair - after banging the groomsmen in the back room. All of them*. Feeling a lump in my throat, I stepped outside to take a break. Gorfu was blubbering, great huge tears of fire that burned holes in the floor, while Ashrax and Corthrax gleefully took bets on what, or who, would eventually kill me.\n\nApparently, there was nobody in my life who had actually liked me for me. I counted twelve con artists (each successful), eleven attempts on my life for insurance money, and fifty-one viral Youtube videos in which I was, in some way, “the mark.” At best, people had pitied me.\n\nOutside on the veranda, I took a deep breath and looked out over the artfully arranged corpses in the Fields of the Damned. “Sorry you had to see that, sir,” Ashrax said. “Looks like you really suffered.” I nodded, numbly. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I had indeed suffered.\n\n“You know, sir…” Ashrax hesitated, then plunged ahead, “it’s possible for someone with enough resources Below to have some influence back there. In the first world. Nothing so great as here, of course,” he gestured out over the field of corpses, “but you can send bad luck, pestilence, that sort of thing.”\n\nA new feeling was starting to arise within me, filling the empty void. “I can do that with my suffering?” I asked, looking out over the lake of fire.\n\nAshrax nodded. “You have about as much as we’ve ever seen.” Quietly, he added, “Gorfu in there would probably help for free.”\n\nI looked inside and saw my final moments reflected on the projector screen, my hands and ankles tied as my house burned down around me, my wife and children toasting my death outside. I saw their fancy new house, their new husband, their new father.\n\nI turned back to Ashrax, my eyes now dancing with a fire entirely of their own. I smiled, a cold, dark smile. “Tell me more.”\n\nEdit: I wrote a [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4wh8c7/wp_suffering_is_a_form_of_currency_in_hell_the/d67kxyx) and [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4wh8c7/wp_suffering_is_a_form_of_currency_in_hell_the/d67l0s4). Sorry all, no current plans for Part 4." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 8, 16, 25, 41, 45, 79, 117, 3750 ]	[ "1470510183", "1470528871", "1470533321", "1470533416", "1470534997", "1470535213", "1470536485", "1470529420", "1470534832", "1470529080", "1470527173", "1470531868", "1470526887", "1470526941", "1470528109", "1470527759", "1470521362", "1470520423", "1470520455", "1470520205" ]
[removed]	[WP] WWYW Part two: What's happening?	1	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nPrompts are for stories, not world building try r/WorldBuilding\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/4wmo48/wp_wwyw_part_two_whats_happening/)" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1470603255", "1470604682" ]
	[WP] At the Gates of Heaven an angel affiliated to your church acts as your advocate, making their best case to St. Peter for your admission to Heaven. As a life-long atheist, your advocate is the angelic equivalent of a public defender.	65	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Ah yes, you must be... Richard, right? I'm Lenny.\" \n\n\"Robert, actually.. what exactly is going on here?\"\n\nHere looked remarkably similar to lawyers office, beautiful wooden walls and a large oak desk with a large leather chair fit for a king. The desk had a relatively large book on it, with the name Robert on it. There are only two things that didn't fit, a large life size cross behind the desk, and a little pixie floating above the chair, rendering it useless. The little pixie closely resembled what most would think of as cupid, with the one exception being it's clothing. This little fellow was wearing a tiny Armani suit. The whole thing would have been adorable if I didn't remember the car accident I got into before appearing here.\n\n\"Ah, yes, sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself again.. Richard was my last client.. poor fellow, he really did deserve to be up here... but yeah, I'm your holy adviser, Lord appointed of course, due to your... life choices. However no hard feelings on my part, you guys keep me from getting evicted.\"\n\nI look around the office once more \"Doesn't seem like heaven to me\"\n\n\"That's because this isn't.\" He said with a smile, \"This is what you humans would refer to as Limbo, the place, not the game. This is where we decide where you should go, and I am the angel appointed to your case. This works very similar to your justice system, except less corrupt..\"\n\n\"That doesn't sound too good, I'm assuming God will be a bit more upset with my choice to not believe in him.\"\n\n\"No, he only steps in for important cases.. it's St Peter judges all the normal humans.\"\n\n\"So I'm still supposed to go up there and convince SAINT PETER to let me into a place that I spent my entire life NOT BELIEVING IN? And you want me to think this is a non corrupt system?\"\n\n\"Well, I'm the one who has to convince them.. but, but\" He starts flipping through the pages in the book, \"I think you have a pretty strong case.. You died an early death and didn't do it yourself, so that's some bonus points..\"\n\n\"We are determining the destination of my immortal soul and your best point is the fact that I didn't commit suicide? I'm fucked..\"\n\n\"I'll be honest, I'm not the.. best lawyer out here.. but I'm all that terrible for atheists, a lot of the other ones don't even try to get atheists in.. well.. unless..\" Lenny trailed off, and floated down until he was sitting in the chair. \n\nI lean forward in my chair, \"Well, what?\"\n\n\"Well, unless you want Satan to be your lawyer.. Nobody ever wants that though..\" He turned around and looked at the cross, and might have mumbled sorry.\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because, Ronnie, he is Satan. Even an atheist should know who Satan is..\" Lenny looked into the Robert book and shuffled through some pages. \"Yeah, it says here that you have heard of Satan, so it should be pretty self explanatory that nobody would want him to help them get into heaven..\"\n\n\"Is he a bad lawyer though?\"\n\n\"NO, he is the BEST at his job, there's a reason him and Jesus don't get along..\" Lenny began to look even more visibly upset, \"There's no saying he would want to get you into heaven.. nobody really knows what he wants.. it changes more than the weather..\"\n\n\"Well, Lenny. I think I would like to talk to him.\"", "“Dude, I think my angel is drunk,” I whispered to the guy behind me in line. His angel was properly attired in the white loincloth with sweet golden wings and a cherub happy face. The guy himself was dressed pretty neat, an Armani suit that was perfectly tailored. I felt a little out of place in my jeans and T-shirt, but hell, if I’d known I was going to die, I probably would’ve prepared a little better.\n\nMy angel definitely WAS drunk. He was wearing some sort of weird riding pants, drinking from a very conspicuous flask every couple of minutes, and had paid absolutely no attention to me whatsoever save the “I’m your angel and I’m going to tell God why you should be in Heaven.”\n\n“Looks like it,” the guy said sympathetically. “But maybe he sobers up in front of Christ, Our Lord and Savior.” \n\nYeah, I wasn’t too sure if they had coffee up in Heaven, but my angel needed a big pot of it, and stat. I couldn’t help but snort at the guy’s response.\n\n“You religious?” I asked.\n\t\n“Of course,” said Mr. Armani Suit. “The Bible is transcribed directly from the mouth of God, and Christ–”\n\n“That’s enough,” his angel said hurriedly. “We don’t really need another atheist-on-believer fight up here. We’ve already broken up three.”\n\nMy angel turned a red, rheumy eye towards me, and sighed. “Time to do my job,” he said.\n\nI straightened up. “How do I get in through those pearly gates?”\n\n“By shutting up and letting me do the work. You’ve committed about 30,000 sins in your lifetime, and you didn’t repent once. Cheating on your college girlfriend? That’s a straight ticket to hell for most. Luckily, you were philanthropic, so I may be able to get you some sympathy points. The truth of the matter is, you’re probably going to limbo.”\n\nI shut the hell up. The truth of the matter was, I had done some pretty shitty stuff in my lifetime. I had done good too – donated a lot of my hard-earned money to the less fortunate, held doors open whenever possible, tried to be a good friend and a good husband – but I’d also lied, cheated, stolen, and been a dick to get what I wanted. I wouldn’t say I was a bad person, but I was no saint either. My lower lip began to tremble. This was it. I really was dead and going to Hell.\n\n“Oh for Christ’s sake,” sighed my angel. The sky thundered. “Sorry, Jesus! Force of habit,” he yelled, and then turned to me. “What’s wrong?”\n\n“I don’t want to go to hell.”\n\n“Look, uh, it’s not that bad. Worse people than you have gotten into Heaven. How it goes is simple: the Prosecution reads a list of the Seven Deadly Sins. If you’ve committed any, then we have to defend those with virtues – prudence, justice, temperance, courage, faith, hope, and charity. It basically comes down to how much of each you’ve completed and how bad the transgressions of the Sins are, and how good the actions of the Virtues are. I know what you’ve done, and you’re about tied, so it’s really up to the judge… who’s the Archangel Gabriel today, I think. We’re old friends. Just relax and answer every question I ask you honestly.”\n\nI opened my mouth to respond, but then a voice rang out across the waiting line. “Grace, Jacob,” it boomed. \n\nMy angel, who really did seem to have sobered up, ushered me along the pathway and into a small room adorned with marble and gold fixing. Where the judge would usually sit was a cushioned chair, which my angel pointed to. On one side, the left, sat a devil with a smirk on his face and a crown of fire; my angel in white took the right side. And before me sat a man so indescribably beautiful I cannot put it into words. The Archangel Gabriel.\n\nGabriel gestured towards the devil. “Begin with the sins,” he purred. Or said, I supposed, but I can’t think of a word to describe the way he spoke. It was like dripping honey, sugar sweet and calm like molasses. I felt inspired in his presence.\n\nThe devil smirked wider. “With pleasure. Beginning with Pride, you can see the defendant being impressed with his new promotion at work. Rather than being humble and thanking God, he immediately posts a status on Facebook about it, hoping for people to compliment him. He also wants the next promotion as soon as possible in order to make more money, signifying greed. Lust becomes obvious with his infidelity towards his college girlfriend, who he attends a party without and kisses another female. He has not demonstrated unusual levels of envy, gluttony, or sloth, but his anger is evident when he punches a man who dents his new car. He has committed four of the Seven Deadly Sins, if I may inform him, even one of these is enough to send him to hell.”\n\n“Oh shut up, Berith,” snapped my angel. “You know that you can counter a deadly sin with a godly virtue, so if I may, Gabe, can I go through his virtues?”\n\n“With pleasure,” Gabriel (Gabe?) said. \n\t\n“In choosing a state school over an expensive private school, the defendant has shown prudence, because he knows that the student loans will be too difficult to pay off otherwise. The defendant, if you look inside his heart, holds no racist, sexist, or otherwise discriminatory views and has never participated in discriminatory actions, through this he shows justice. Even when he was laid off from his job, he did not give up and rather applied to companies beginning the very next day, showing hope. And he is very prominent in showing charity, he has given almost half of his wealth away to various organizations in an attempt to better the world. He demonstrates four of the seven godly virtues.”\n\nGabriel sighed. “An impasse,” he declared. “To reconcile this, I will question the defendant. If his answers are satisfactory, he may pass through to Heaven. If they are lacking, he will be sent to limbo. And if they are downright diabolic, Berith here will take him to Hell.”\n\nMy angel and Berith both nodded, seemingly unaffected. Meanwhile, I was having a mini-freakout. If I was still alive, I no doubt would have been able to feel my heart pounding in my chest. The most famous angel in the history of angels was about to question me and determine my eligibility for where I would spend eternity. Just great. \n\n", "\"Katrina Wittler?\"\n\n\"Kaitlyn, actually. And also Witterman.\"\n\nThe angle swore, frantically shuffling through the stack of open scrolls in his hands. At least, Kaitlyn assumed he swore; no one could actually curse here. Any uttered vulgarity evaporated into silence the instant it left the tongue, like a poorly censored cable action movie.\n\n\"Brunswick, Philadelphia, born 1928?\"\n\n\"Atson, New Jersey. And really?\" huffed an exasperated Kaitlyn, quite clearly in her early 20's.\n\nMore silent, open-mouthed swearing followed.\n\n\"Fire escape collapse?\" asked the angel with sudden confidence, tugging a length of filigreed parchment to the top of his stack.\n\n\"I'm assuming there was only one Kaitlyn Witterman from Atson, New Jersey killed in a fire escape collapse yesterday, so yes,\" sighed Kaitlyn, pulling down the angel's mess of scrolls to glare at him. \"Congratulations.\"\n\nThe angel made a sour, sarcastic face, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to the massive set of ivory doors on his right and motioned for Kaitlyn to follow him. The doors emitted a low vocalization when opened, as though an unseen choir were practicing their scales with flawless accuracy. Every door here did that -- it got old, quickly.\n\n\"You're late, Mizalel,\" boomed an all-encompassing voice, nowhere and everywhere at once. \"Eternal life does not excuse impunctuality.\"\n\n\"Sorry, Your Honor -- I had three other cases this morning, one on Cloud Seven and two on --\" the angel stammered, frantically adjusting his disheveled robes and breathing on his halo to polish it.\n\n\"The Prosecution never seems to have this problem,\" remarked the voice, again filling the whole room.\n\nAt the table adjacent to theirs, Kaitlyn and Mizalel noticed a smug, bearded figure lean forward in his seat. He reached for a stack of neatly organized case files and, licking his finger, opened the top binder with a deliberate swipe. He then pushed out his chair and stood, smoothing his already immaculately pressed white linen suit. Mizalel stood as well, knocking several loose pieces of parchment to the floor.\n\n\"This court will now hear the case of Kaitlyn Witterman V.S. the Heavenly Host,\" thundered the voice. \"Counselors, your opening statements. St. Peter, you may proceed.\"\n\nThe prosecutor stroked his white beard a moment, consulting his binder. His eyes grew wide, and he slammed the binder closed with a sudden clap.\n\n\"I yield my time, Your Honor,\" smirked St. Peter. \"I feel the facts of this case speak for themselves, unassisted by supercilious pageantry.\"\n\n\"As you wish,\" echoed the voice, overshadowing the groan coming from Mizalel. \"The defense may approach.\"\n\nMizalel dropped the quill he was using to haphazardly ink notes on his arm, splattering several other documents with flecks of silver. He hurried to the center floor, still reading from his forearm, clocking his knee against the table leg as he walked.\n\n\"Your Honor, esteemed souls of the jury, I understand Kaitlyn Witterman did not profess to be a Christian in life, but it is our moral obligation to weigh her words and deeds against that fact,\" began Mizalel, cuffing his sleeve to keep it from rolling down further and smudging any more of his hastily scratched notes. \"And so, I implore you to consider the inherent goodness of her actions, and recall that justice follows no creed but its own, be a person Jewish, Muslim or, in Kaitlyn's case, --\"\n\nMizalel's eyes scanned the single sheet of parchment he'd brought with him to the floor and then swore again, the silent obscenities hanging in the air like humidity. He cleared his throat, shooting a defeated glance back at Kaitlyn, and then continued:\n\n\"An atheist.\"\n\nThe entire courtroom gasped, save for St. Peter (too busy non-nonchalantly examining his nails), Kaitlyn (nervously running her fingers through her hair) and Mizalel (who looked like he wanted to cry). Mizalel hobbled back to his table and collapsed into his chair, burying his face in his hands.\n\n\"Were you going to tell me this?\" he quietly hissed at Kaitlyn, and then more audibly, \"I'm going to need a quiiick sidebar with my client, Your Honor.\"\n\n\"When? In the two seconds after you showed up but before you hustled me in here?\" whispered Kaitlyn. \"How is this news, exactly? Did you seriously not even crack my file until we sat down?\"\n\n\"I have A LOT of clients, lady,\" retorted Mizalel, his whispers becoming decidely less and less whisper-like. \"If you humans would stop (...) like rabbits, maybe there wouldn't be twenty of you for every one of us!\"\n\n\"Oh, so it's somehow my fault you're total (...) at your job?\" snapped Kaitlyn, abandoning all pretense of a whisper. \"I didn't ask for you to (...) defend me!\"\n\n\"Order! Order in My court,\" crackled the voice, the sheer force of its presence blowing Kaitlyn's hair back and scattering Mizalel's parchment all over the pristine white tiles beneath the table. \"I'm one more indignity away from a summary judgment, Mizalel. If you're going to do something other than waste my admittedly infinite time, I'd start now.\"\n\n\"Of course, Your Honor,\" gulped Mizalel, stumbling back to the center floor, a few entirely unrelated pieces of parchment stuck to his side with silver ink. He grabbed one, pretended to read it as a stalling tactic, and then cleared his throat.\n\n\"If a dog jumps on the new sofa, is it really fair to punish it? I mean, severe punishment, something beyond a mild chastising so it knows not to repeat the offense,\" wheezed Mizalel. \"Of course not! The dog doesn't, and quite frankly, can't know any better -- it lacks the capacity for rational thought; therefore, punishing it as though it did is inherently unjust and I ask--\"\n\n\"THAT is your defense?\" shouted Kaitlyn, standing up and attempting to wing Mizalel with a balled up piece of parchment. \"That's the best you've got? That I'm like a (...) dog? (...) seriously, dude?\" \n\n\"ENOUGH!\" exploded the voice, rattling the ornate crystal chandeliers above and upending any unoccupied chairs in the audience. \"We're done here, Mizalel. I sentence the defendant to 5 years in Purgatory. Next case!\"\n\nA pair of tall and beautiful, but nonetheless imposing, seraphim materialized into being, grabbing Kaitlyn by the shoulders and dragging her out of the room.\n\n\"Wait -- I want a different attorney!\" yelled Kaitlyn, struggling in vain as the pair of bailiffs forcibly escorted her toward a door of pure white light that had just appeared. \"Mistrial! I declare a mistrial!!!\"\n\n\"5 years is actually pretty good,\" called Mizalel after her, cupping his hands to be heard over the ensuing murmurs throughout the court. \"My clients usually get 10 to 20!!!\"", "Stammering. Cold sweat. Eyes threatening to burst from his head and run out the door of the Heavenly Court.\n\nNot what you'd expect from an angel, but then again Prometheus was never considered your typical angel. Being appointed the defender of godless humans made him something of a joke in the inner circles of heaven. Well, that is to say, it would have if he wasn't already a joke due to his severe ornithophobia. Sometimes, the cherubs would sneak up behind him and flap their wings as fast and as loud as they could, just to see him jump.\n\nThen again, his client wasn't much better. Richard Franklin was hardly going to win Citizen of the Year any time soon. And that was before his girlfriend shot him for sleeping with her mother. A vulgar, conniving rat of a man who thought Charity and Honesty were cheap hookers, and Temperance was their pimp.\n\nPrometheus adjusted his halo and licked his lips for the fourth time that... well, heaven doesn't exactly have time, but let's pretend it was morning for the sake of the story. For an angel who had been around essentially forever, his win record was lower than his current client's standards and, all things considered, that was something that was in no hurry to change.\n\nNot that Old Richie cared. From the way he slouched at the deceased's bench, to the way he absent-mindedly scratched his ass, he made it very clear to all in attendance that he was far beyond eternal platitudes or punishment.\n\n\"Dick.\"\n\n\"Sorry? Whazzat?\" Richard sneered at his defender.\n\n\"That's your name, right? Richard?\" Prometheus decided his halo was ten centimeters off and took to righting it. \"I was asking if you're ready.\"\n\n\"Oh. Yeah, right.\" Richard yawned and picked at a scab on his elbow.\n\n\"Because, as I explained, if we lose here (which is very likely) you will be going to hell.\"\n\n\"Born to ride, baby. Hell's Angels.\"\n\n\"No, not born to ride. Hell is a very bad place. Understand?\" If angels could die, Prometheus would have gladly requested a shotgun. \"They torture you down there. Physically and mentally.\"\n\n\"Nice.\"\n\n\"Nice?\" Prometheus' face dropped.\n\n\"Yeah.\" Richard smirked. \"I'm super into that BDSM-shit or whatever.\"\n\nPrometheus held up a finger, ready to reply, but found nothing to say. How do you respond to something like that? Prometheus didn't know, and he certainly didn't care to find out. He straightened his halo once more and checked his hands. Still clammy and sweaty. Wonderful.\n\nAs Prometheus tried to wipe the sweat onto his robes, the gates to heaven opened and to a choir of angels Judgement descended. Clad in a white and gold robe, with wings large enough to make Prometheus quite queasy, St. Peter took his seat at the bench of judgement.\n\n\"It is now that there shall come a time of great judgement.\" He began to speak. \"Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God.\"\n\nPrometheus turned a shade of green most commonly referred to as Household Disaster. While it certainly wasn't as bad as standing before the Metatron as he had once before, or be called before the Archangels of the Seventh Ray as he always prayed he wouldn't, it always made him quiver to stand before Judgement.\n\n\"Are the advocacy and opposition present?\"\n\n\"The advocacy is...\" Prometheus tried not to swallow his tongue. \"Present, Your Sainthood.\"\n\nSt. Peter nodded and marked his tome. Next, he turned his head to the bench across from Prometheus.\n\n\"And the opposition?\"\n\nNo answer.\n\nWhich was no surprise as the bench was entirely empty. However, Judgement's liked being thorough. They were fond of rituals and the like.\n\n\"I see.\" With a sigh, he began to mark his tome, once mor-\n\n\"Your Sainthood!\" \n\nA hideous, crackling voice echoed out from the empty space behind the opposition's desk, stopping St. Peter's hand.\n\nSuddenly, a burst of unholy fire began to burn above the desk. Spinning in place, it began to form a circle, and then a pentagram. And from the inside of the damned formation a figure stretched out a clawed, disfigured hand that seemed to actively reject the light around it. It grasped at the air, and then finally managed to grab onto the bench. And then, like a masochist ripping off a bandaid, it slowly pulled it's owner out with it. A mottled, twisted demon with a black tail that cut through the air and a lovely red-black pinstriped suit.\n\nThe opposition had arrived.\n\n\"My apologies, Your Sainthood.\" The demon bowed deeply, placing his feathered hat over his non-existent heart. \"The commute from hell took longer than I thought it would. You know how traffic between afterlives is.\"\n\n\"How fortunate for you, Mephistopheles.\" St. Peter scowled. He held a distaste for demons, but it was Satan's right to vie for the souls brought before the Heavenly Court. \"I was just about to mark you as absent. If you had arrived even a second later, I would have been obligated to end this trial in the advocacy's favour.\"\n\nPrometheus perked up.\n\n\"Sorry, hold on.\" He interjected. \"Do you mean to say that I almost won this trial before it had even begun?\"\n\n\"I suppose so.\" St. Peter gave a blunt affirmation. In turn, a vein on Prometheus' head throbbed like a pipe about to burst.\n\n\"Luck of the devil.\" Mephistopheles cackled and dusted off his suit with his hands. \"Never fails.\"\n\nSt. Peter nodded and finally marked the opposition as present. Then, with little flourish, he shut the book and placed it before him on the bench.\n\nThe trial had begun.\n\n___________________\n\n\"As is tradition,\" St. Peter began. \"The advocacy shall have the first right of speech. During this, they shall present before the Heavenly Court what proof they have that the soul of deceased's holiness. This is to be assessed based on the Seven Virtues. Prudence, Justice, Temperance, Courage, Faith, Hope and Charity. If, at any point, the poof of the deceased's advocate is lacking, misleading or dishonest, it is the opposition's right to interject. Is this understood?\"\n\nBoth Mephistopheles and Prometheus nod in tandem, however only the former looked particularly confident. This, however, worked well enough for St. Peter and, as a result, he continued without skipping a beat.\n\n\"Very well, then. As both parties understand, we may begin. Advocate Prometheus, you may begin.\"\n\nPrometheus swallowed, but his throat seemed to reject moisture. If the Sahara Desert is the benchmark for dryness, Prometheus' throat was the gold standard. Nevertheless, he centered his halo for good luck and approached the bench.\n\n\"Ahem.\" He cleared his throat, and demanded his nerves quieten themselves. \"Your Sainthood, allow me to defend the wayward soul before you.\"\n\nHe paused and produced a piece of paper from his pocket. It was chickenscratch, but it was his chickenscratch.\n\n\"I would like to begin with Hope. March 18, 2 years before death. At this point in time, the deceased's home was set ablaze under unusual circumstances. However, the deceased did not despair. In fact, if you'll look at his inner feelings at the time, he was actually found to be feeling feelings of joy! Your Sainthood, is this not an expression of Hope?\"\n\nThe angels who had taken time off from enjoying heaven to watch the trial began to murmur. Prometheus gave an inner weak smile.\n\nOff to a good start, he supposed. But, as usual, he'd spoken too soon.\n\n\"Your Sainthood!\" A shrill cry erupted from the opposing bench. \"This is misleading information!\"\n\nMephisopheles snapped his fingers and an evil grin spread across his face like some kind of disease.\n\n\"While what the advocacy says is indeed true,\" he admits with a knowing nod, \"what they fail to mention is the fact that the fire was set by none other than the deceased themselves!\"\n\nMephistopheles gestured to Judgement with a theatrical air.\n\n\"If you would please direct your attention to the events leading up to the night in question, you'll find that this was all a ploy by the deceased in order to scam the insurance company out of a large payout. There is no hope here, Your Sainthood, because there was never any despair to face!\"\n\n\"Hold on a second!\" Prometheus interjected by pointing a flimsy, trembling finger at his opponent. \"Provided what you say is true, this was still an incredibly high risk for the deceased to take. If it failed, he could have ended up in jail or without a home. To knowingly take an incredible risk... Your Sainthood, even if this is not a display of hope, it's surely a display of Courage!\"\n\n\"Or incredible stupidity.\" Mephistopheles countered, smiling slyly.\n\nYet Prometheus merely shook his head.\n\n\"The deceased, despite his apathy and lack of social grace is actually a surprisingly intelligent person with an above average IQ.\"\n\nMephistopheles laughed.\n\n\"IQ? Who cares about IQ?! A high IQ doesn't mean you're not dumb as a sack of brimstone when it comes to these sorts of situation. Being good with numbers or rubiks cubes or whatever the hell you're talking about doesn't mean you're aware of the risks of your actions!\"\n\n\"That's true, but check his inner thoughts.\" Prometheus swung back. \"If you check across the board, the deceased has shown a strong penchant for self awareness regarding his actions and their risks. I'm sure it was no different for that particular gamble, either.\"\n\nMephistopheles took a second, mulling over Prometheus' words, before nodding in approval. No comeback, just nodding and a polite round of applause.\n\nThis was far more unnerving than any other response Prometheus could imagine.\n\n\"Good show.\" Mephistopheles opened his mouth wide, revealing the yellow daggers he called teeth. \"You're right, the deceased is definitely smart enough to know he risks his actions carry.\n\nIt's a shame that burning that house down wasn't much of a risk at all.\"\n\nPrometheus felt his stomach drop into a pit of despair. This whole time Mephistopheles had been toying with him. Typical demons. Getting off on watching their victims squirm.\n\n_____\n\nPart 2 below", "\"Alright, you ever murder anyone?\"\n\nIt was an abrupt greeting from a stranger on an already strange day. Or was it a day? I wasn't really sure at this point how you referred to units of time in the after life.\n\nThe stranger clapped his hands, \"Hey, buddy, ever murder anyone?\"\n\nI snapped back into focus, \"What? No, of course not! Shouldn't you have that kind of thing written down somewhere?\"\n\nThe thing looked at me with indignation and lifted a stock or folders some four feet high, \"Of course it is written down, jackass, but do I look like I have time to rifle through all of this shit?\"\n\nI felt like that was pretty mouthy coming from a servant of Heaven... then again, I had never believed in Heaven, so who was I to judge?\n\n\"Right, yea, sorry about that,\" I said, \"So, what are we doing exactly?\"\n\nHe looked up from his notepad, \"Trying to make sure you don't spend the rest of forever burning.\"\n\nI felt the bottom of my stomach drop at the idea of Hell. \n\n\"Well I never believed in any of this, doesn't that kind of make it open and shut?\"\n\nThe entity looked annoyed, \"Oh, thanks for the encouragement, great, very helpful. Look, just like anything else, they weigh the good and the bad and Pete decides what happens from there. I know you're confused, I know you have a lot of questions, but just shut up and go with it because we are up in like 5 minutes pal.\"\n\nI bit my tongue and tried to keep the rest of my questions to myself.\n\n\"My name is John, I'm your defender at the gates, I need you to answer any questions I ask honestly if we have any shot at this.\"\n\n\"Because lying is a sin?\"\n\nThe defender stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me, \"Well I was going to say because they are super good at note taking and will know, but sure, the lying thing works too. So no murder, that's a good start, how about adultery?\"\n\n\"I was never married, never wanted to be. Family and settling down just weren't on my agenda.\"\n\nJohn rolled his eyes, \"Great, jury just loves a non family man up here, way to go pal. Okay, we lost the sympathy card, we can't argue that someone will be asking for you later on down the line. I assume you had sex without being married, it's never a good thing, but plenty of those fuckers over there manage to get in.\" He gestured over his shoulder at a long line of people that seemed to flow through the gates rather quickly. \n\nI glanced at the line, \"I assume that's the church crowd?\"\n\n\"Yea, and their defender, Gabriel, if you want to call him a defender that is,\" John sneered as he looked at the well dressed man at the head of the other line.\n\nHe snapped back into focus, \"Any weird animal stuff? Please god no kids stuff right?\"\n\nI stuttered, \"Of course not?!\"\n\nHe looked slightly relieved for the first time. Suddenly, a voice boomed out at the gate, \"Atheist line, Hall, Barry!\"\n\nI felt a shiver surge down my spine and my head break into a cold sweat; my time had come. I looked at my defender in his drab attire and ruffled attitude and thought to myself that Heaven could really use some reforms." ]	[ 1, 5, 7, 8, 24, 31 ]	[ "1470650440", "1470684551", "1470680664", "1470678376", "1470663379", "1470655227" ]
	[WP] When genres collide.	3	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "A man walked in, stepped on a rake and hit himself on the head.\n\n\"It must be the slapstick-person\" said a guy wearing a tweed jacket and a deerstalker hat and who was smoking an enormous pipe. That walking style rather gave it away even before the rake.\" \n\nBob, your average next door neighbor, sighed. \"Where on earth have I got myself into?\" he thought to himself.\nHe glanced the letter again. There was not much to look at though. A perfectly normal envelope with his name and address on it and inside a perfectly normal sheet of paper with the text: \"No 19, 2nd Street, 8 pm. Tonight.\". So he had come.\nThe address led him to an unassuming warehouse just outside the downtown. There he had found out that he wasn't the only one who had got the letter.\n\nHe raised his head and looked around. Quite a few people were there already. A guy standing in the corner in an aluminium foil suit talking something about \"turbo encabulators\" to a retro-looking walkie-talkie. A young man was training karate with his 150-year-old looking japanese sensei. A family of seven (and a dog) had arrived in a Wolksvagen minivan. They had put up a tent inside the warehouse and were apparently starting to make a campfire inside the warehouse. A suspicious-looking man was pretending to read a newspaper but was actually looking through the eyeholes he had poked on it. A zombie was crawling in the corner but every time it tried to get close to anyone it was lassoed by someone looking like Clint Eastwood. A young good-looking hetero couple was hugging in front of some containers and behind those containers you could hear a lesbian couple moaning. Closer to Bob, a roman soldier was talking with a nazi officer and a navy SEAL. Next to him, was the man in tweed who now turned to Bob.\n\n\"Nice to meet you. Bob Smith, 41 years, living in Massachusetts. I see you should get your dog to the vet,\" he said. \"But let us not worry about that now. I see you have been doing some general inspection of the area. This is an intriguing situation, isn't it? But there is still six minutes until it is time. I assume approximately five more groups are still to come.\"\n\n\"Do you...\" Bob was cut short by the sound of loud music when a dozen Indian women came in dancing vividly. They had hardly found a seat when a bearded man came riding in.\n\n\"Behold!\" he shouted. \"I am prince Aoden of Morthan, son of Argen, son of Aescylus!\" He fell quiet when he realized that nobody was listening.\n\nHe was followed by a thomp when a fashionable-looking muscular man dropped from the air vents. A young, scared-looking brunette girl came next from the door, followed by an ancient evil trying to kill him.\n\nBut now was the time. The man next to Bob was grinning kowingly looking at the far right. The lights went off dramatically. There was only a spotlight pointing on a small stage on the far right corner of the hall. The suspicious-looking man with a newspaper dropped his paper and ran to the spotlight holding a suitcase in his left hand.\n\n\"This is it!\" he roared and opened the suitcase. \"My plan is now in fruitition. This machine will destroy the world as you know it! 'How?', you ask. Let me tell you...\"\n\n\"ENOUGH!\" A woman wearing hipster glasses and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt came to the light and pressed a big red button on the machine, causing it to explode and its creator to fly through the roof shouting \"I'm blasting off again!\".\n\n\"Hey there!\", started the woman. \"I'm postmodernism. I called you all here. There is not really a reason why. I just happen to dislike grand narratives and thought that this intertextuality would alienate you from absolute truth. So, do whatever you want. As did the author of this piece.\"" ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1470656454", "1470663041" ]
	[WP] One night you watch the Truman show. The next day you can't help but feel that there's something slightly off with everyone you meet..	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Fuck.\n\nSo, I spent the entirety of my Sunday afternoon watching the Truman show. I could've done so many other things that DIDN'T fuck with my mind. I was brushing my teeth this morning before work, and I started to stare really fucking hard into the mirror, trying to see a camera. I opened the medicine cabinet, nothing. I physically slapped myself for being an idiot, and dropped a bit of toothpaste on the ground. I didn't pick it up, old habit. No one around to clean it up, and it'll probably be future me to clean it up.... or maybe there's a cleaning crew on the show that'll do it... yeah! That's how I'll figure it out!\n\nWait shit, that'll never happen. I'm an idiot. \n\nAnyways, onto work, I guess. \n\n........\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n\n\n\nWhy is there no traffic?\n\nIt's a cruise... it's not normally like this. Usually there's a bunch of cars and someone in the car over will talk to me about the day. Hm...\n\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nWork was normal today, I suppose. Ol' boss man was a bit weird today though, kept sitting on my desk talking about his girlfriend and his foreman grille. That was a bit uncomfortable, and one guy kept throwing pencils at the dork with glasses. Fuck it, I need to talk with my therapist.\n\n**\n\n\"I've got to say AJ, I've got to say I'm speechless\"\n\n\"It's a big deal, I don't feel like I know that I'm in a reality TV show, I KNOW it.\"\n\n\"Look, AJ, this is something called a cognitive bias, basically your brain is messing with you AJ. It's taking the parts that confirm your suspicion and now you're worrying about this shit.\"\n\n\"So what do you want me to do about this?\"\n\n\"Well, AJ, just try to be more present in the moment. Take some deep breaths, and look around and notice how you're not* in a reality TV show\"\n\n***\n\nTHE FUCKING TOOTHPASTE WAS GONE!" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1470703241", "1470704316" ]
	[WP] Caffeine is actually the world's most powerful hallucinogen. It causes users to experience a shared hallucination, and blocks memories of life outside the illusion, inserting false memories in their place.	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Case #32: Subject appears to experiencing relative time alteration, extreme delusions, and a disconnect between cause and effect. \n\nCase #33: Subject is abnormally conscious. Moaned when prodded, and eyelids fluttered, but otherwise no activity. Machines show moderate time alternation, minor delusions, and a disconnect between cause and effect.\n\nCase #34: A chronic user, system is overloaded. Extreme time alternation, extreme delusions, and no relevance between cause and effect. \n\nI shut my notebook. Thirty four cases before lunch, that has to be some kind of record. This job was depressing, but I knew my research could help to end the drug epidemic. When caffeine was discovered the world was ruined. It works like no other drug. It has no physically addictive nature, but instead it dominates the mind of its users. The affected people cannot even tell they are drugged. What seems mere hours to them, is actually days in reality. When caffeine’s effects come close to wearing off, most subjects feel tired, or cranky, and consume another dose to return to “normal.” The delusions and hallucinations can be so strong that the users will not be able to distinguish the real aspects of the world from the ghosts placed there by their tormentor. They only see what the caffeine wants them to see. Usually these visions are happy ones, which reinforces their need to take the drug. Of course, the addicts vision is not distorted enough to make it difficult to have another cup of coffee, or eat another bar of chocolate. It’s like the drug has a mind of its own. It’s able to manipulate the public to keep taking it. Perhaps the most devastating effect of caffeine is how it disables the connection of cause and effect. This will cause perfectly normal people to do extremely stupid things which often results in injury or death. For example, when an uncommonly lucid user was interviewed (Subject 13,968) he was able to verbalize that concrete was extremely tough, and much harder than his hands. He also realized that his body could experience pain if he hit something which was more rigid than himself. When we asked him to punch the wall as hard as he could, he did so without hesitation. \n\nAll of our research to this point has proven ineffective. The best antidote we have can provide momentary clarity to those affected, but comes with great risk of heart failure. We tested it on a couple subjects and two out of five of them were cured. However, three suffered a massive heart attack. Testing on human subjects may sound cruel and unusual, but the caffeine epidemic has caused the breakdown of society as we know it. It has led to many laws being bent or ignored until it is resolved. When I first took this job, I felt horrible about accidentally injuring a subject, but after your first hundred or so, you get used to it. The only thing I was focused on now was curing this epidemic. \n\nMy stomach growled, reminding me that it was almost time for lunch. I felt a little lightheaded and tired, I needed something to get me back in a working mood. To remedy this, I made a quick stop for coffee on my way to the cafeteria.\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1470718563", "1470720028" ]
	[WP] Satan himself has invited you to dinner... He seems nervous......	22	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "What's the strangest thing that's happened to you? An uncanny coincidence? Something not being where it's supposed to be? Sleep paralysis?\n\nThe strangest thing that's ever happened to me occurred one lovely night where I was called to hell to have dinner with the devil. Now, you'd think that would be my strange occurrence. But, as usual, you'd be wrong. That's what happens when you assume. No, the strange part about this whole thing was that he was fidgeting. Not some whole sweating nervously and tugging on his collar type thing, but small, awkward fiddling with his fingers, but not in the good way.\n\n\"Please.\" He spoke politely, but in a slightly commanding tone. \"Take a seat.\"\n\nHe snapped his fingers... talons? Claws. And in an instant the chair across from him slid out and I rested my rear upon it's soft cushioning. It was not unlike my laptop chair, perfectly fitted for my buns.\n\n\"You've dressed... nice.\" Satan paid me a compliment, but it was really backhanded and a blatant lie because I was definitely not dressed nicely. I was wearing a semi-stained plain black t-shirt, a tie with emojis (ugh) on it, a hat and crocs. I didn't describe my pants, you probably noticed, and that's because there was nothing actually that weird about them besides the fact that the fly was broken.\n\n\"Thanks.\" I try and smile. \"It was the only thing I had that was clean.\"\n\n\"Right.\" Satan coughs awkwardly and smacks his lips together as he tries to decide what to say next. If he's anything like me, he probably prepared a bunch of topics but he had to throw them all out when he actually saw me in person because, you know, they all revolved around this one thing or that one thing which no longer really applied.\n\n\"So, what would you like to eat? I have the finest chefs in hell on standby.\"\n\nI think it over.\n\n\"Could I get chicke-\"\n\n\"We don't have chicken.\"\n\n\"Oh.\" I think it over again. \"Then how about, idunno, do you have rabbi-\"\n\n\"No rabbit.\"\n\n\"Pork?\"\n\n\"Just ran out, sorry.\"\n\nI smack my hand on the table.\n\n\"Well, jeez! Am I expected to fill up on bread and salad!?\"\n\n\"We're also out of salad.\"\n\nI groan, and Satan must have caught on to my irritation because he instantly gets all huffy-puffy and defensive.\n\n\"It's hell!\" He cries. \"What did you expect? An all you can eat buffet?\"\n\nI refuse to speak to him, because he's an asshole who's denied me a good meal.\n\n\"Look...\" He calms down and leans over the table towards me. \"We have lamb. A lot of it, actually. For some reason my followers keep sending it, even though we already have way more than enough...\"\n\nThis cheers me up because a good lamb chop is always just what the doctor asked for.\n\n\"Right!\" I chirp. \"Why didn't you say this earlier? Get me a nice chop. Two chops. You know what? Just keep chopping until I puke.\"\n\nSatan nods to show he understands.\n\n\"Lamb chops.\" He snaps his fingers and a waiter demon appears. \"And tell Ramsey to make it quick.\"\n\n\"You have Gordon Ramsey!?\" I nearly spit out my complimentary room-temperature (read: boiling) water that I've been drinking this whole time, but hadn't bothered to mention.\n\n\"Oh...\" Satan gets a little sheepish. \"Well, sometimes. He's not, you know... Here. But he likes using the kitchens.\"\n\nI nod, because people tend to think you understand what they're talking about when you do that. This seems to please Satan and he takes this opportunity to fold his hands and lean forwards.\n\n\"I suppose I should cut to the chase, shouldn't I?\" He begins to explain, but his eyes keep shifting ever so slightly.\n\n\"This is an intervention. You're a horrible person, and while normally I'm all for that, it needs to stop.\"\n\nThere's nothing more surreal that can occur than having Satan call you a dick. To your face. Which is particularly bad because until that point we were having a nice time and we were being perfectly polite to eachother.\n\n\"Aren't you supposed to be the devil?\" I raise an eyebrow. \"Don't you like it when people are, ya know, sinful and all?\"\n\n\"Normally, yes.\" He admits, before looking around and dropping his voice to a harsh whisper. \"But, between you and me, if you keep going down this path, I'm gonna be out of a job.\"\n\nSurely he's joking. I tilt my head.\n\n\"You can lose your job? How!?\"\n\n\"Well, see... The title of Devil just goes to the most evil being in hell. Why do you think there are so many different names for it? Lucifer, Dragon, Buer, Azazel, Asmodeus, Beelzebub... Those aren't different titles. Those are the guys and gals who had the job before me.\" Satan smirks and puffs up his chest in pride. \"But none of them held the job as long as I have.\"\n\n\"Wait. Hold on. This is a bit much to take in.\" I hold my head and gather my thoughts.\n\n\"Are you saying I'm literally the worst human being alive?\"\n\nSatan nods.\n\n\"Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying.\"\n\nI cock an eyebrow in incredulity.\n\n\"Really? Worse than Hitler?\"\n\n\"Worse than Hitler.\" He nods.\n\n\"Worse than Stalin?\"\n\n\"Worse than Stalin.\" He nods again.\n\n\"Worse than the fucker who shot Harambe?\"\n\n\"Just a smidge.\" He admits, and holds his thumb and forefinger a little bit away from eachother to demonstrate.\n\n\"Huh.\" I say. Because, after being told you are the worst person on earth, that's really all you can say. \"I'm the absolute worst person on earth.\"\n\n\"Yes, we established that. No need to keep repeating yourself.\" Satan's obviously getting less nervous as our conversation goes on. Hell, he's basically yawning.\n\nI shake my head.\n\n\"Still, even if that's true (which I find very hard to believe),\" I give an evil smirk. \"why would I want to change?\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\" My question flusters Satan. Good.\n\n\"Well,\" I continue. \"It seems to me my options are to continue being the worst person of all time and take over ruling hell... Or I become a little less worst and end up being tortured for all eternity. Sounds a bit of an easy choice, don't you think?\"\n\n\"Well, have you ever considered trying to get into heaven?\" Satan offers. \"It's not very hard. Just donate to a few charities and save a couple of orphans.\"\n\nI shake my head.\n\n\"But I don't WANT to save orphans or donate to charities.\"\n\n\"Well, then.\" Satan grumbles, and slams a fist on the table. \"What DO you want?\"\n\nThat's a good question. What do I want... I want lots of things. Many things. But right now...\n\n\"I want to be the ruler of hell.\"\n\n\"Fuck off. You can't have that.\"\n\n\"Well, uh, I'm taking it anyway so...\"\n\nSatan rubs his temples and glares at me. He lets out an exasperated sigh.\n\n\"Look, how about this.\" He switches into negotiation mode. \"You try and be good, and I'll grant your every wish for as long as you live.\"\n\nThis gets my attention. I can tell because I instantly perk up.\n\n\"My every wish?\"\n\n\"As long as you try and get into heaven.\"\n\nI mull it over. Finally, I break into a large grin and nod.\n\n\"Alright, then. I'll think about it.\"\n\n\"You'll...\" Satan raises an eyebrow. \"Think about it?\"\n\n\"Let me sleep on it.\" I decide. \"I need time to make my decision.\"\n\nSatan goes to say something, but stops. He looks troubled, nervous once more. But he realises that I've decided not to decide just yet. He gives a slow nod of affirmation.\n\n\"Very well, then.\" He sighs and returns to the persona of the dinner host. \"Now, how about we start digging in? I've been dying for some grub!\"\n\n__________________\n\nI wake up the next day and throw off my Haruhi Suzumiya bedcovers, toss my Tomoko body pillow to the ground, put on my Saitama slippers and groggily shuffle over to my computer. I press a fat finger on the power button and it begins to boot up, displaying the time as it does so.\n\n11:52am. Perfect.\n\nI know what my choice is, now. There was only ever one path available to me. I give a chuckle as I begin to type.\n\nSorry, Satan. But not even you can stop The Hacker 4chan." ]	[ 1, 14 ]	[ "1470819552", "1470830780" ]
	[WP] A writer realises that they're a character in the story of another writer	18	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Her eyes linger on the burnt-out remnants of her manuscript. The flames had long since guttered and died, ravenously destroying the body of her work. A black, forlorn scar had been charred into the floor around the manuscript, which was now crisp and fragile as pale autumn leaves.\n\nHow did it come to this? \n\nShe mused on her question, the fingers of her once-dominant hand stroking the bottle of what she called inspiration nestled in her lap. Whatever neatness her room — and indeed, the same could be said of her home, or of her life — had once known was desperately absent. With eyes wide open she scoured the room for detail, hungrily searching for every nuance and font of description.\n\nHow would I describe this? Written into words, given life with ink? Her eyes lingered on her now-broken computer across the room. How would he? She remembered her panic, her raving mania, and wondered at how the fragments of screen and circuitry that now surrounded the technological corpse looked so stark, so empty and devoid of life.\n\nAm I so different?\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1470826069", "1470835091" ]
e.g. in a race you'll always place second, in a torneyment you'll be second best, in a single tennis/chess match you'll always lose. if there's two other scientists... you get the picture	[wp]No matter what you're doing, you're always the second best there.	18	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/excgarated] [torneyment](https://np.reddit.com/r/excgarated/comments/4x1v9g/torneyment/)\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)", "It all started years ago when I was still a child. Whatever I was doing, I was always second: at school, in sports, video games or even with friends. Not that I wasn’t good enough to be first, but there was always someone beyond me. At one point, my friends even called me The Secondest, which meant everything. \n\nI always tried my best to overcome this and make everyone wrong, but it wasn’t enough: I worked like a dog in uni and scored 95/100 in all my cursus, but the number one scored 98/100. In sports, I tried the competition and even beat the number one of my club, but I ended up second just behind the 1st national. That was insane.\n\nIt had a positive effect on my life though, because it made me overpass my limits and thus I had a comfortable life, thanks to my uni scores, and I was ripped thanks to my efforts in sports. But it was killing me inside because since then, I had developed the most competitive spirit and I couldn’t stand to still be 2nd.\n\nBut for a moment, competition in everyday life disappeared, there were no ranking at all, and I felt relieved, until the day I bought that pinball to my home. When I started it for the first time, there were no score recorded in it, so I tried the first game to set my own score. The game finished pretty quickly and the score billboard appeared and I was 2nd once again.\n\n“What the actual fck? There were no score 5 minutes ago and now I’m second AGAIN?!” I shouted\n\nI checked for the score and noticed it was set a little over 100,000, while my score was of 27,000, nothing unreachable then. I spent 3 more hours before exploding the record with 255,479 points. I was happy to write my name on the score billboard until I noticed that once again it was the 2nd best score.\n\n“WHAT IS THIS?!! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! I FCKING BEAT THAT GAME!”\n\nThen something, someone, was writing on the pinball, and speaking directly at me.\n\n“Calm down Steve, it’s just a game”\n\n“No! I won’t calm down! This game is tricked, I beat the best score, why does it cheat and put itself on the best score? And why the f*ck am I speaking to a pinball?!”\n\n“First, you’re not talking to a pinball and then, because it is your fate, Steve. You can amount to anything you want, you can have the most extraordinary life in the world, but you will always be 2nd”\n\n“What am I talking to then? And what does this means?”\n\n“I already told you: you can do whatever you want, but you will always be 2nd, that’s the price for your extraordinary fate”\n\n“What if I want to be the most powerful man in the world? Or be the oldest man alive? Or the richest?”\n\n“You can’t be, but you can be the 2nd of all that. It’s up to you to choose your destiny”. And then, the pinball stopped talking to me.\n\nI can, almost, be whatever I want? I then have to think about what I want to achieve.\n" ]	[ 1, 3, 5 ]	[ "1470827577", "1470832226", "1470833099" ]
	[WP] Portals have opened up across the world connecting cities with identical names or named after one another (ie. Paris, France with Paris, Kentucky; York, England with New York, NY).	7	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "You think you've got it bad?\n\nOkay, yes, you didn't luck out. You're not one of the people finding easy travel across the pond from New York to York or New England to England. You're not one of the beneficiaries of the hundreds-long portals between Newcastles. You can't take a beautiful vacation in Aukland, New Zeland because you don't live in Oakland, California. You still don't have it bad.\n\nAre you from France, maybe? The French have a reputation for being snooty and stuck up, and it's not true. The problem is, they get that reputation the way any group gets a reputation: because of a small number of annoying people who ruin it for everyone else. In France's case, these people live in Paris. So people in Kentucky and Texas and elsewhere in France are all annoyed by this portal, but that's hardly a real problem.\n\nMaybe you work in customs? Workload's been a bit more difficult ever since people could just hop over from Mexico to New Mexico, I bet. Or maybe you're more worried about Memphis, Egypt vs. Memphis, Tennessee, huh? Lebanon vs. Lebanon, New Hampshire?\n\nOr are you a spook? I bet this whole Moscow, Russia to Moscow, Kansas thing is not making your life any easier. Or is your beat a bit further south, in St. Petersburg, Florida?\n\nHeck, I bet any government employee is pretty freaked out about the whole Hyderabad, Pakistan to Hyderabad, India link.\n\nYes, I do still think I've got it worse than you. You want to know why? Take a guess. Take one guess.\n\nNo, it's not Newark, U.K. It's Hell, Michigan." ]	[ 1, 10 ]	[ "1470836963", "1470838989" ]
	[WP] An incredibly forgetful man realizes that he isn't misplacing his belongings; he's unconsciously transporting them to a different demention.	8	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "If you are reading this, then that means I'm not crazy. Losing keys is one thing, it happens all the time, but how someone could lose their memory is beyond me. There can be only one explanation, alternate dimensions! People may assume I'm going senile. I am 82 and have a propensity for forgetting things, but this can't just be me. Okay, maybe it can, but it can't just be my memory, maybe I've developed this power... I'm getting off track.\n \nIt all started this morning while getting my daily coffee from the nice barista down the street. I always order the same thing, that way she can remember it for me. My loving wife Gracie always provides me with just enough to pay for it and a newspaper. She says if it wasn't for her I would have lost our life savings years ago. Unfortunately, that's the problem I'm dealing with right now. I couldn't seem to find her anywhere. Without her I have no coffee, I have no newspaper, and I have no life savings. \n \nThis note must have traveled through alternate dimensions to get to you, and now I have a simple request. If you find my wife, tell her that I found the car keys. They were in the refrigerator.", "\"That's it Larry, We're tired of this. We. Don't. Want. Any. More. KEYS!\"\n\nLarry was confused. A second ago he had been taking the cushions off his sofa for the third time, and now there was what could only be an imp hovering in front of him holding a bag of what could only be 30 sets of keys he had misplaced over the years. \n\n\"What?\" \n\nLarry wasn't any good at witty come backs. \n\n\"I said, we don't want anymore of your keys, so you can stop sending them to the infernal dimension. Maybe those losers up on the celestial plane would wont them, but not us.\"\n\nLarry wasn't any less confused. The imp that sat in front of his face was a tiny creature. At 18 inches tall, with cute little horns, tiny wings, and his face all scrunched up into a frown, he was a lot less intimidating than Larry would have thought a minor demon would be. He wasn't even sure if the tiny plumes of smoke drifting out of his ears were a result of his anger, or just a natural consequence of being hell spawn. Maybe both?\n\n\"I'm sorry Mr, and I don't know how you got all of my keys, but I didn't send you anything. I'm just an accountant.\"\n\n\"A likely story!\" the little devil yelled, and he snapped his fingers. Next to every single one of the keys popped up a small text box. As Larry leaned closer, he could just make out the phrase, sent from Larry Birchbottom, material plane. \"Hah!\" the imp shouted, you never even bothered to turn off the automatic signature. Now we devils can appreciate the odd practical joke every now and again, but this has gotten ridiculous. Frankly Larry, if it doesn't stop, we might have to stop you.\"\n\nAt this Larry started to become a little alarmed. After thinking for a moment, his brows seriously furrowed and his fingers pinching at his lower lip, he looked up and said, \"Well sir, I suppose it's possible that I have been sending you keys, but I honestly don't know how I am doing so. I've just assumed I lose stuff easily.\" And after a longer pause, \"And, I suppose, that might still be true.\"\n\nFor some reason, the imp started laughing. \"You're serious aren't you?\" At Larry's confused nod he began to smile. \"Well then Mr Birchbottom, then allow me to show you the ropes. My name is Bateseixihr, but you can call me Bat.\" \n\nWith a little flap of his wings, he floated over to just beside Larry's left ear. \"You and me buddy, we are going to have a lot of fun.\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1470888072", "1470893268", "1470894633" ]
[removed]	[WP] My 3yr old demands a "Really Scary" story with monsters and im all out of ideas. Please help!	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nPrompts are meant to inspire users to write their own work, not write something for you or give you ideas. \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/4x6q2g/wp_my_3yr_old_demands_a_really_scary_story_with/)" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1470897710", "1470898007" ]
	[WP] Write here what you want to tell her/him because you can't in real life.	26	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Hi. It's me. I know you haven't been responding to my messages recently. It confuses me a lot. Maybe I offloaded some things I shouldn't have. But I see that you're happier now. And that reassures me.\n\nI know that we never had any type of relationship, but that doesn't bother me - at least I would like to think so. Looking back, I wish I was just a little more consistent with messaging you. Hell, I've only seen you a couple of times in the flesh. But each time Hannah, it is surreal. The sound of your voice brings a calm to the storm of thought in my head, a calm I haven't heard in a while, almost 3 years now. Recently over the past few months I've known about your relationship with Jethro. Jethro is my best friend, or at least I hope he is. The thing with Jethro is that he seems to break my confidence rather than build it, so I'm never sure what he thinks of me. I'm not so certain about how I feel about him actually. Hannah, I don't have many regrets, but the one that hurts for me is that I can't tell you how I feel about you.\n\nDo I love you Hannah? Yes. Yes, of course I do. You are the most beautiful soul I have ever come across. Sadly, I'm not. To admit to you, I feel like the most horrible person in the world in comparison to you. I hate myself. And believe me when I say that I will sacrifice myself in an instance, in the most painful way if necessary, just so you may live. I will die for you without second thought. Now I realize Hannah, that dying for someone is actually easy, because in the end it is over. It finishes. But I will also live for you Hannah, like I have since I met you. I will live with you constantly on my mind, knowing that you will never know my feelings and emotions for you, like I already am. \n\nJethro is not my rival. He never \"stole\" you away from me, for I never had you. To think that I have never felt what it feels like to have someone actually want you by their side (besides family), yet on my first love I have fallen head over heels. I don't think Jethro will ever know what it is like to feel that the love of his life is with the 'wrong' person. But Jethro makes you happy, or so it would seems. He loves you, he always talks about you. And that is why I won't tell you how I feel. Because I don't want you being in an unhappy situation trying choose between people. My feelings, in comparison to yours, seem so insignificant. All I want in this world, is for you to be happy.", "I wish I could find you. I wish I could show you what you walked away from five years ago. I wish I could tell everyone in your life what a liar you have been all these years. For so long, you have told people that it was my fault. I walked away. \n\nYou and I both know that wasn't the truth. I have lost so many friends because of your lies and immaturity. That's okay. I came out on the better end of this deal.\n\n I have a beautiful, intelligent, sweet child. A child you walked away from before his first birthday. A child you begged, then demanded I get rid of while I was pregnant. A child who has brought so much joy to each and every person who knows him.\n\nYou will never know what it was like to see his first steps, hear his first words, see him on his first day of school. You will never remember what it was like to see the pure joy and pride on his face when he taught himself to ride a bike without training wheels or ride his four wheeler for the first time. You will never know that he loves to go to bull riding events, tractor pulls, and rodeos. You will never realize that when other kids wanted to be superheros at the age of 4, he wanted to be a construction worker. At the age of 5, he wanted to be a police officer. Now, he wants to be a game warden. He wants to make a difference in the world. He loves animals, and thank the Lord...he lives on a farm with about one hundred animals. \n\nYou will never know what it's like to watch him grow into a young man, but at this point, you don't deserve to know. That privilege is for those who love him and support him-something you were unable to do. \n\nTell me...were the drugs and the partying worth it? Was your selfishness worth it? Do you ever think about him and wonder what he might be like now? I used to think it must just be easier for men to walk away from their children, but then I met my husband, my son's real dad. Now I know it's only easy for self-centered people like you.\n\nYou see, my husband has children from a previous marriage. He has fought tooth and nail to stay in his children's lives. He also accepted my son as his own immediately, which is something you could never do. You could never accept your own child. \n\nDon't worry. He's in much better hands now. He is loved and cared for. He is being taught how a man should treat people, especially women. He is growing into an amazing young man. Too bad you couldn't take time out from your partying to watch him grow. \n\nOne positive thing I can say to you is, \"Thank you!\" Thank you for giving my child. ", "Hello brother.\nMy sweet little brother.\nI wish I could tell you how much I love you, but even if I spoke these words to you wouldn't understand me, because you can't speak. You're such an amazing creature, always joy-bringing and cute beyond belief. Every time I see you it brightens my day and puts a smile on my face.\n\nI don't think you'll ever understand how grateful I feel every time you rush over to me with that silly sprint-waddle and hug me. Or, at least attempt to with that warm embrace of my tall legs and sticking your head in-between them. I'm so grateful you do this every time you see me, that you love me as much as to grant me this. I love playing with you. I wish I could tell other people about those childish things we do on the bed. Bouncing up and down, wrestling and tossing around, fake sleeping in your parents bed, all just for the fun of it. To be honest, it's only during those plays that I ever feel happy.\n\nYou bring me so much happiness it's insane, and your not even MY child! I can't believe I was so worried of you before you were born, I thought your coming to the world would mean the end of my childhood and the destruction of my \"family\". Instead the opposite happen, I became part of a family for the first time since my mother and our father divorced. Because of you I became close to our father again, but unfortunately you also made Dad and our sister drift further apart. If you asked me about her I'm not sure what I would say..... I don't know exactly what caused her to get thrown out of our home, or why she doesn't want to be part of our family. And I really don't understand why she hates your mother so intensely, for she is truly a wonderful woman. I can't imagine a better mother than her and I honestly love her more than my own mother. I wish I could convince you even at this early age that our sister loves you as well, she may not show it much (especially now since she hasn't seen you in about half a year), or at least she wishes she could love you. I hope that when she's furthered matured she'll reconcile with our father and be your sister again.\n\nDon't get me wrong, I love our little brother as well, it's just that he's so young now that he barely does anything. He's too of a young age to give me the love that you do (and I'm pretty sure that you've spoiled babies of that age forever for me, because you were the cutest of them all!). But to be completely honest, I'm not sure I'll ever love him as much as I love you. You were my first brother. You brought me happiness at a time when I really needed it. You gave me a family and a true home for the first time in many years. And for that I will be eternally grateful.\n\nI'm not really sure if I could be happy without you. But see, that is why our relationship is also a tragic one. You're disappearing from me. Every week it seems like you grow a millimeter taller. You're constantly adding new words to your vocabulary. Just a few months ago the closest you came to pronounce my name was \"Ughhh!\", and I secretly loved it with all it's silly cuteness. Then suddenly, one day \"Uffie\" came out of your mouth and that's what you've called me since, you're getting closer...\nEvery time I hear you say a new word I grow a little bit more fearful that these wonderful years and this wonderful time with you is running to an end. I know, you're not dying, that's an incredible inappropriate word in this situation considering you're doing quite the opposite, you're becoming a boy. Truth be told, I don't want you to grow older. I need you to remain this playful and honest and uncomplicated as you are now. Because in you I see what I've lost in myself.\n\nYou see, sweet little brother, your not the only one that has grown in these years. I've grown something inconceivably. I've become a man, a very, incredibly young man, but a man nonetheless. And that's why, even though it tears my heart, I have to leave our home. In one way, it's good that I can't tell you this because until you're my age I don't think I'll be able to explain it to you. For you the world is fresh and juvenile, all in our proximity has to be explored and all is to learn. Our home is your playground. But for me it's another story. I've lived in this area for all of my life. I have nothing left to learn here and nothing left to explore. Our neighborhoods are pale and worn to my eyes, living here is dull and uninspiring. Even in our home I'm starting to feel suffocated. Even as loving as our family is I'm starting to feel more and more misplaced each passing week and it's increasingly common for me to ask myself \"What am I doing here?\". I'm done here, I need to go. I need the world, and in a way, the world needs me.\n\nI promise that I'll visit every week if I have the opportunity. I won't be moving far, at least in the beginning. I hope you'll still see me in the same way even though I don't live with you anymore, because that is what I'm most afraid of. With the amount of years between us and all the adventures waiting for me in the wide, open world I fear it'll be impossible for us to still be brothers. I always want to be your loving brother, not just some awkward older relative. That's why I'll always try to be your playmate, always be there in all these coming years, to always be a part of your childhood and your family. Since our father is getting old I may be needed in the family in time to take care of you two, I don't think I would object to that. By playing and hugging and fighting and taking care of you I wish I could fill you to the brim with all the love I have for you so that you'll never feel unhappy or lonely. My life will forever be a balancing act between my independent freedom and the loving care of you and your brother.\n\nSo in the time when I'm not home please take good care of our family. Please eat the new foods your parents offer you and don't smack your little brother to much on the head. I know you probably won't since you've always been a mischievous little imp, but that's part of why I love you.\nYour eternally loving brother, \"Ughhh!\" ", "As of today it's been five years, five months, and three days since I last saw you alive. I wasn't allowed to attend your funeral service. Family said it would be a disgrace to your memory. They blamed me for your suicide. Hell I blamed myself. They had the fucking balls to cremate you by the way. They burned your body. I broke three knuckles punching a wall when I found that out. How fucking dare they go on and on about your soul burning forevermore in hell when they burned your body. Hypocrites, all of them. The only one worth a damn is Amber, she just started high school btw, smart as all hell but you already knew that. We talk on facebook every now and then, she got a new boyfriend, some little hipster punk, not good enough for her. You would have beaten the crap out of him.\n\nI don't know if you were watching me after you died, but if you were i'm sorry for what you saw. I uh, I went pretty wild for about four years. I turned exactly into the type of person you hated. I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry I wasn't there that night, sorry that that stupid party was more important than you. Sorry that I didn't know how much you needed me until it was to late. Sorry that I let a fight about nothing turn into something that drove you past your breaking point. \nSorry that it took four years before I could function without some drug or another in me.\n\nYou know I loved you, but I hated you for those four years. I couldn't keep a good relationship because i compared every one to us. Actually called out your name the first time me and Alexis had sex, do you have any idea how fucking weird it is to tell the person you just screwed that you were thinking about a dead chick? I hate you for leaving, for breaking my heart, for making me feel like I died with you. I hate the memories that I have of use because each and everyone is tainted by the way it ended. I hate the fact that whenever I see a short blonde chick I get disappointed its not you. I hate the fact that your sister still asks me questions about you, what was your favorite band, what did you want to do in college, all these different questions that get harder and harder to answer. I dread the day she asks me a question that I can't answer. I hate the fact that whenever Kid Rock comes on the radio I have to change the channel. I hate the fact that I still drink myself to death on your birthday because its easier then facing that day sober. I hate that it took me five fucking years to find someone who made me as happy as you did. But I finally did, her name is Lauren. You would hate her, and I think that makes me happy. I think she hates you for what you put me through. I know she hates the nights where I cant sleep because I had a dream about us. I hate you for those nights. Huh, i guess I haven't actually stopped hating you. \n\nI guess that's all. I miss you, and I wish I could have this discussion with you in person. I miss you Mariecia, I love you for the two years of happiness we had, and hate you for the five years of self hatred and regret. But mostly i just miss you. \nGoodbye beautiful.\n\n\n", "To my best friend,\n\nIt's not that I can't tell you. It's that the task is so immensely difficult.\n\nI don't know how else to describe it.\n\nIt's like being trapped in a hole that I started digging the moment people in my life started telling me the way that I was supposed to be. Then as soon as I realized I wasn't like that - I didn't fit nicely into their narrow mold - I fell into that hole and have spent the rest of my life trying to claw myself out. The problem is that every action I take to try and contort myself to fit into that mold has been a shovel full of dirt thrown atop me. People expect me to be this person I'm not because that's what I've always been. But I'm only like this for their sake, not my own. There are times when they fling their dirt - those hateful words - in my eyes and I'm blinded by the tears that come when I'm the most alone I've ever felt. There are times when I can't breath because of it's weight - the burden of the person I must be to be accepted. There are times when I stop trying to escape, when the darkness seems so inviting.\n\nBut you've always been there, and while I have not been my complete self around you, you've accepted the best and worst parts of me. You stayed on the phone with me those nights I couldn't take it anymore. You stood by my side when they called me names. \n\nI love you. But not like that. Like a brother. Like the best friend I'll ever have. Love is such a stupid word. How can four letters describe how safe I feel around you? How happy you make me? How you give me the will I need to not let myself suffocate?\n\nThat's why I need to tell you.\n\nIt's the hardest thing I've ever done, digging myself out of that hole, and it started with a whole lot of self-acceptance. But staying out of it will require support - friends like you to talk to and share my troubles with. I need to seek them out, talk to them, work up the courage to tell them. If they're truly my friends, like I know you are, they're going to accept me, even though that fact might seem so unequivocally false. \n\nSo here I go. Five letters. Why is it so difficult to say them?\n\nI'm gay.", "I think about you often. I can only imagine what you look like all these years later. I remember you the way you looked when I last saw you. Just you.\n\nI remember how you smell and taste. I remember the fun we had dancing around and how young I was to all of this. I got to be the serious one and I think that bothered you. I suggested you go back to school and you marveled at how easily that thought fell from my lips - without a thought - to get your degree. And you did. I know that you felt stagnate - you watched as all of your friends seemed to grow up and leave you behind. I moved away too. And so you left - and we exchanged a few e-mails before I couldn't take the silly things you said. Not a path of self destruction, just a path of adulthood delayed.\n\nI think about you often - how if I saw you now I'd play it cool - Oh hey, good to see you again. But that will never happen - even if you were the one.\n\nI also think about what you said - how it's a shame we could never be together- because, you know, you never stay with your first - and you were my first.", "I'm sorry.\n\nI'm sorry that you're alive. I'm sorry I can't and haven't been there for you like I wish I could have been. I'm sorry you were an accident, sorry that I wish you were never born. It's not your fault, it's mine. \n\nYou'll probably grow up to hate me, just like your mother does. You'll probably grow up to hate her too, like I do. I wish I hadn't lost you. I wish I had fought harder to hold onto you and that shining light of yours that I never did manage to stop thinking about.\n\nI know she'll leave out the details, of how she pulled a gun on me, of how she assaulted me, of how she continued to use heroin throughout her pregnancy with you. But I'm sure you'll have your own opinions of her.\n\nYou've been lost to me, I hope you know that. I don't know where you are and haven't for a while now. Maybe one day you'll come looking for me, maybe you won't. \n\nI love you, I hope that wherever you are, you're happy.", "I thought I saw you again last night. I was walking home and someone ran across the road and for just a moment they seemed like they might be you, but they turned into the light and I knew it couldn’t be you, not really. I still think about you every single day though. \n\nYou deserve an explanation and I wish I could give you a better one, other than I got scared and letting go of you seemed like the best thing. I swear to you that at the time I thought it would be better for everyone, not just me. There’s no way that you can see it as anything other than selfish and stupid though. \n\nI was sixteen and my whole life seemed to be ahead of me. When your mum, Carol, that was her name if you didn’t know, when she came round and told me that she was pregnant, I kind of froze. She wouldn’t make eye contact and I kept asking her “What are we going to do? What are we going to do?” \n\nI know what I wanted her to answer, but I was too cowardly to suggest it and too stupid to realise that I should have asked for help from my parents, or really anyone. She told me that she wanted to think about it for a while and so I said okay and she left. It was a week later that one of her friends came up to me and said that she’d gone away for a bit, off to visit family and somehow with her out of sight it seemed like the problem went away. \n\nShe came back about eight months later and in all honestly I think I had forced myself to forget. I had forced myself to pretend that it would all go away. It hadn’t though and you were ready to come into the world. \n\nYou were born in November and it was a bloody cold day, I remember that much about it. I got a call from her dad at about 10am and he told me you were coming. I asked if I should come to the hospital and he said no, then put the phone down. He was probably right. \n\nI got to see you the next day though. You were tiny, far too small they kept telling me, but I didn’t know how small babies should be. I just watched you as you reached out in the incubator for the warmth of your mother who was stuck on the other side of the glass with me. \n\nShe asked me what I wanted to call you and I didn’t know, so we decided to wait. I went home and cried until I was raw and then I made a promise, a promise that I would break immediately. I promised myself that no matter what I would be there for you, that I would step up and be the man you needed. \n\nYou died at 3:12am and I got a call nearly two hours later. My mum answered from her bedroom and called me through to take the phone. Her voice was filled with panic as she yelled into the dark house for me and I knew, I just somehow knew. I took the phone and listened to the doctor and then I put it down without saying anything. Then I broke the promise.\n\nI took some clothes, packed a bag, left the house and left without saying goodbye. While your mum buried you and mourned you, I kept moving, never stopping. I never came back. I never said goodbye. I never tried to be the man I thought I was. \n\nI can’t go home now and so I see you, the ghost of the girl that I didn’t have. Last night I followed the stranger for a while, until I was lost in my thoughts and they had slipped away somewhere unseen, leaving me walking down the street by myself. I don’t know why I followed them, I think I just wanted to pretend for a while. \n\nMaybe one day I can turn around and go back, to find the remains of the life I left behind. Please just believe me that I’m sorry, I really am sorry. " ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 20 ]	[ "1470922833", "1470941156", "1470949075", "1470941790", "1470961557", "1470927753", "1470931230", "1470939655", "1470925082" ]
	[WP] You find out your friend is gay, but hasn't told you yet? How do you handle this amazing discovery?	0	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Hey, Dave, you won't believe who I just ran into...\"\n\n\"Jack, if this is another attempt to set me up with a girlfriend I'm going to duct-tape you to the sofa and leave you there for an entire Jeremy Kyle marathon.\"\n\n\"Actually, it's this ridiculously good-looking guy I know from work.\"\n\n\"What.\"\n\n\"You didn't clear your browsing history. And you do realise one word of explanation would have spared you a considerable amount of inconvenience and embarrassment over the last couple of years, right?\"\n\n\"... yes.\"" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471016486", "1471095597" ]
	[WP] You invent a teleporter. Tests on inanimate objects remain molecularly identical. Testing on animals shows behavioral changes. testing on human subjects is about to start...	4	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "It would be the perfect teleporter, if we knew where it went. But we don't. So we trained a chimp to take photos with a camera, and sent him through. He would only stay there for as long as we kept the teleporter active, and when we disabled it, he appeared right back in the chamber. And smashed the camera to bits. It had sent him insane. Completely insane. We couldn't send the camera through on a timer, whatever process it went though disabled the electronics. In fact, we had to give the chimp an old film camera. It was ridiculous - testing futuristic tech and using something so old. So, we have to send something with a little more control over their own mind. A person, of course. Other than Dolphins, we're the cleverest thing on the planet, and dolphins can't take photos.\n\n\nSo Todd volunteered to go through. We strapped him in, and sent him through, with his camera ready to go. He was worried, sure. To be fair, we'd sent 11 chimps through, so he had reason to be worried. They'd all gone insane too. \n\n\nOne second he was sitting in that little egg shaped chamber, the next minute he disappeared. It seemed to go well. We didn't want to give him prolonged exposure, so after 5 seconds he was pulled back through. And there he was. Sitting there. But his face was blank, and he didn't give the OK signal, he just sat there. \n\n\nSomething was wrong. But he still had the camera. The biohazard team went through and pulled the camera out of his hands before he could do any harm to it. They literally had to pull - his hands were gripping onto it so hard. And as they walked out, for the room to auto quarantine him and their suits, he began bleeding. Out of his eyes. He was crying blood.\n\n\nBy the time the quarantine was over, he was dead. \n\n\nThe autopsy hasn't revealed what it was yet. Perhaps an aneurysm from whatever process he went through. Perhaps from what he saw.\n\n\nFrom what we saw on the camera, perhaps it was the latter.\n\n\nWe're cancelling the project. " ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471072424", "1471089606" ]
	[WP] the individuals that signed up to be part of the Mars colony are now looking back at earth knowing they made the correct choice.	11	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Year - 2046\n\n\nAboard the USC - Hermes\n\nThe panoramic view of the viewport attracted many onlookers, partially because of its bubble-like quality and it's proximity to the central hub of the ship which on occasion would be filled like a cup with the aromas of exotic foods. However, the main reason so many lingered by the viewport was somewhat of a common need. Behind them laid an infinite number of stars and the only home they had ever known so intimately as to be pained to leave it, Earth.\n\nSporadically, fights broke out and blood was shed over disputes born on Earth. Yet, as the pale blue dot grew smaller and smaller, the stories of life back on Earth began to fizzle out as conversations began to look forwards rather than backwards. \n\nThe social atmosphere of the hub area seemed to coagulate around the idea of Mars as a bastion for humanity, a colony worthy of the name of Eden II once terraformed. Even then, such lofty dreams were far from the present and there were significant doubts from some. Time again ceaselessly went on and as alcohol and drugs of various forms flowed more and more, to such a degree that such a fact became irrelevant to the overall population. \n\nTheir decisions that lead all of them to this point no longer mattered, as the last glimpses of Earth graced the viewport, many were too busy celebrating and laughing to realize what had just occurred among them. \n\nNationalities melted away and gave birth to the idea of true unity and a blank slate to ensure a better future. \n\nSince time immemorial, mankind has found in some way a reason to fight amongst itself over resources, land and sovereignty and yet in the Hermes there was a fundamental change. As if the ship itself broke the bonds of war and shattered the glass of barriers and separation. \n\nIt took 2 years but humanity finally found the cure to centuries of violence and division and the resounding evidence that those lucky to make it aboard made the right decision. \n\nThey just had to leave.\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nYear - 2146\n\n\n\nEarth \n\n\nThe sound of silence permeated the Earth, a century having passed since the remains of humanity abandoned it.\n\n\nThe billions of corpses laid out by a single cataclysmic war have turned to dust, mixing together with the radioactive fallout of bombs dropped in a bygone era.\n\nA time when humans fought and killed each other. \n\nA time that faded out of view as the Earth had to the colonists who would never return. \n\n\n\n", "Tina Langston, Barry Lomero, Teji Nakiyama, and Anjl Leonard always dreamed of being explorers. For them there was always a fascination to being on the frontier of something; of being the first. Such an aspiration wasn’t necessarily for the potential accolades that would come with being the first humans to settle on the newly established Martian colony. It was a lush environment, tacitly created by the man made robots that preceded them; machines perfected for earth changing technology. Mars was the first to undergo it; the first experiment to showcase human kind’s progress. It took nearly ten years before the association of global scientists (AGS) deemed the formerly barren planet habitable and ready for living subjects, and the four now found themselves headed to a new land, alongside a hundred others on the small shuttle, followed by their sister shuttles, which where only a few days apart from one another.\n\nTina should’ve been elated; a dream come to fruition as the vessel rocked her ever so much from side to side, but she wasn’t. She grimaced as she reestablished a connection to the Terra newsfeed, “It doesn’t like it’s getting better,” she frowned as the screen of her device became focused.\n\n“Really?” Barry asked curiously, “You’re saying those ridiculous protests are actually getting worse than they already are?”\n\n“Not just worse, they’re growing, it looks like,” she let out disheartened sigh as Teji and Anjil directed their attention to the two.\n\n“Growing?” Teji queried with an intrigued lean, “how bad is it getting there?”\n\nTina gave a shrug, swiping her mocha colored digit across the screen, “Ever since the global guard shot those fifty kids the whole Capital has gone into complete disarray. Look at this, news lines are reporting a turnout nearing a million.”\n\n“At the Capital? The ACTUAL Capital?” Anjil asked baffled in tone; her piercing grey eyes widened with worry, “It’s really gotten that bad since we’ve left?”\n\n“Looks it,” Tina moped, “Jesus, I can’t even imagine being there right now.” She shook her head; a legitimate sorrow piercing her core. She worried about her family, even though they were far away from the impending chaos; still too close for comfort given where she was. The Mars project was one of many last desperate attempts by the failed Global Union Government to create true unity, but the human race was far too divisive for such a thing to be a success; conflict became the norm, the fighting over ideals grew more fanatical and violent, the Government itself became paranoid; a military state also became the norm, which the people despised, and eventually resisted, leading to many deaths, and even stronger opposition." ]	[ 1, 2, 3 ]	[ "1471074439", "1471082147", "1471125158" ]
I know this is a night vale quote but make a story behind it and actually explain what it means. Also it doesn't have to relate to nightvale at all.	[WP] "This just in, all books have stopped working."	0	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "The librarian shook her head, but knew better than to resist. She couldn't help but feel the painful stings every time someone from higher up decided to decrease the inventory of the library - her library.\n\n\"It's necessary. There just isn't enough money to support the humidity control anymore. We need to move them elsewhere Amanda, you kn-\"\n\n\"Where are you taking them?\"\n\n\"Them!?\" \n\n\"I mean... the books.\"\n\nThe original texts. The actual one who helped us get where we are now, she added in her thoughts. This little scumbag didn't understand things at all, yet he was the one in control and that frustrated her. \n\n\"Well, we are taking them somewhere safe\"\n\nShe frowned, sensed that there must be a logical explanation for this distancious . Why would he not tell her, the librarian, where he would take the books?\n\n\"Dave.\"\n\nShe grabbed her arm firmly and stared him down for a moment.\n\n\"You need to tell me where you are taking them.\"\n\nThe depth of his eyes revealed that he was too ashamed to tell her. These books were special, just like all books are special. She remembered how they arrived, how she carefully grabbed the covers of the books and opened them, how she started to read what they were about. The knowledge what was inside. A famous quote from the book \"1984\" by Orwell always spooked through her head. \"Knowledge is Power\". Knowledge can be found in books. Power should never be neglected.\n\nAt that moment, a garbage van stopped at the entrance. She looked to the van, then back to Dave.\n\n\"You have to be kidding me...\"\n\nHe stepped away from her and turned around, slowly shaking his head. \"You failed, Amanda. They are empty. You should've known that your humidity settings were wrong.\"\n\nIt took her all her power not to hit him, but then she realized what he had just said.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nHe walked to a shelf, grabbed a random book and showed the front cover. It had a blurred picture on it, but it didn't look like that was how it was originally intended.\n\n\"It's everywhere, Amanda. No one wants to lend empty books.\"\n\nHe opened the book.\n\n\"We aren't just taking the archives, we are going to take everything. It's just paper now, ready to be recycled.\"\n\nThe book consisted completely of blank pages. Amanda felt how the world started to spin around her when she realized what had happened.\n\nThe books had given up on mankind, on society, but mostly: on her." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471124629", "1471128347" ]
	[WP] A noble, posterboy superhero with a dark secret; his powers are fueled by killing other superheroes.	15	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I walk through the parade. Everyone is cheering, I shoot a few laser beams into the sky, the crowd screams with joy. Every time they see me I have a new power. I tell them it just happens, but it doesn't. People ask me if there are others like me in this world. Every time, I tell them no, but it isn't true. If only they knew, then they would not be cheering, so i must keep up the facade. It's for them, I tell myself. It's the only way I can sleep.\n\nI can still remember the first time I took a life. It was after the man visited me. He told me that I had a gift, that I could have any power I wanted, and all i needed to do was kill others like myself. He told me i could have 1 power for free, and I chose the ability to seek out others like myself. Suddenly, I felt a surge of power whenever I looked a certain way. I walked along the streets, until finally I walked up to a homeless girl, couldn't be older than 8 or 9, holding a pet dog. I pulled the knife out of my bag. She didn't put up much of a fight. I felt dead inside as I stabbed her through the chest. After I saw the life fade from her eyes, I felt a strange glow coming from my body. I then disposed of the body in the river. No one ever found out, or so I thought. \n\nThe second time I killed, it was much easier. After my third kill, I started to fight crime. Soon, the people of the city were calling my name, they even gave me a medal. None of them suspected a thing, I was good at what I did, and I killed them painlessly. I saved so many people, more than what I killed. I was righteous, A knight in shining armor.\n\nI sense one last energy signature, this is to be my last kill. I am ready. I follow the energy signature to a door. On the door there is a picture of all 36 victims, with the words \"I know\" Written underneath them. A shiver runs down my spine. Who could it be? Even so, how can they judge me. I was not a butcher. They were valiant sacrifices for the greater good. I walk through the door, and the signal seems to be coming from a laptop with a Skype call running.\n\n\"Hello Tom\" the voice says. Shit, how do they know my name. Nobody knows my name, not even my closest friends. \n\n\"What do you want\" I inquire\n\n\"Revenge\" The voice says coldly.\n\n\"who are you?\"\n\n\"Your executioner\" What could that possibly mean, they're not here, what could they possibly do. I hear a click as the door locks, and a feeling of dread encompasses me.\n\n\"Look at your feet, you should see a box, inside the box is a bomb. Touch the computer, it explodes. Try to escape, it explodes. Try to disarm it, it explodes. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes, what do you want\"\n\n\"A confession. The world needs to know what you did to get your powers\"\n\n\"Fine, I killed others to get power. But it was not murder. It was a sacrifi...\"\n\n\"Shut up, Scum! How many people have you killed.\n\n\"36, But I have saved to many peop...\"\n\n\"That is irrelevant\" the voice says, cold as ice. \"now, Mr Tom Schwarts, this tape shall be aired all across the world, your family and friends will see it, and nobody will ever think highly of you again.\"\n\n\"Goodbye, you worthless excuse of a human being\"\n\nI try to run away using my super-speed, but feel the explosion encompass my body. I see the fire, and black out. I wake up in a white room, with an IV drip running down my arm, and i look down to find both my legs missing. The door opens. The man walks in, the man who told me about my power.\n\n\"Hello Mr Schwartz\"\n\n\"Hello\", I say. \"what are you doing here, did the tape get shown\"\n\n\"yes\" he says \"The public which once loved you so much is now calling for your blood.\" \n\n\"This was a moral experiment to see if humans could be integrated back into our civilization\" the man injects something into my arm, The world fades away, as the man walks away.\n\n\"I guess a 200 thousand year sentence was not enough time\"", "May 18, 2074\n\nSo maybe I should talk about Jeremy.\n\nI met Jeremy for the first time in grade 3. We were kids, it was hard to make friends, I guess we stuck together a bit where others wouldn’t. Both liked computers, a bit nerdy in retrospect. Probably realized it back then, too; the school bullies brought it up with startling frequency. \n\nSeriously, though - ‘hur durr, you’re so smart, that means …’ what, exactly? Maybe this is off-topic. Sorry. I guess you’re reading this to see what’s going on in my mind, anyway, maybe you don’t care. I think I ranted on bullies on page 14 anyway… By ‘I think’, that is definitely what happened. Sorry if I’m not clear enough.\n\nNot sure why I’m apologizing.\n\nAnyway, Jeremy and I were good friends. Bonded through suffering, you know the deal. That was fun. Then it turned out that Jeremy was a superhero. Typical shtick- any kid has about a 0.5% of gaining superpowers at age 8. Most powers are crappy, though - that’s something that not everyone knows. You watch the news, “Bomber Boy Blows up Boston; Teresa Tinker tries to Repair”. In my mind, there’s two tiers: powers, then superpowers. \n\nMaybe I should go more in depth.\n\nPowers, well, you probably know a couple people who have them. I had a girlfriend in high school who was really good with… well, anyway. And my cousin is great with knives. ‘Manual dexterity’, you say, ‘he must be great in fights or with sword fighting or’ but no. He’s good at chopping vegetables. Really good, better than even that one guy - what’s his name? David something? The brit?\n\nAnyway, so you have powers, and then you have superpowers. People like Dianna Demolisher, famous for tearing down three buildings in the pursuit of a supervillian and then being fired and writing a book on oppression against superheros. \n\nJeremy had a superpower. \n\nIt was a package power. Most people don’t have package powers, Jeremy did. He could fly, was impervious to bullets, could hit really hard… I guess maybe he was just good at controlling his body. Making it fly, hit harder… maybe? Don’t ask me, I dropped out of high school before we got into that sort of thing. I can’t explain it. \n\nMaybe that’s ironic.\n\nAnyway, Jeremy was right in there when they formed the first kids teams. I was too, but that’s besides the point. Jeremy was the important one - he was the poster boy, he was the cool kid, everyone adored him. Me and him? We were still buds, it’s true, but he had less time for me - even though we had both gained the same profession. \n\nSo we were on a team of 5 people. Me, Jeremy, Nolan, Sienna, and Drake. Drake’s real name was Bob, by the way - he changed it when he got his power. Maybe he thought it would make him famous, well, he’s dead now and I haven’t heard his name mentioned in years. Not that I feel bad about that. Never really took a liking to the guy.\n\nAnyway, Jeremy. Poster boy. Cool kid. I said that all already, didn’t I? But he really was, he really truly was, most popular kid around. Face plastered all over the news. I can’t say I wasn’t a bit jealous, especially given I was basically second tier to him. Maybe that’s how we drifted apart - he thought I was his competition. Turns out he was right, but not in the way he expected.\n\nDrake’s death hit us all pretty hard. Well, not so much me or Jeremy. Never really was sure why Jeremy didn’t seem fazed by it. Perhaps he was jaded, perhaps he thought it would add to that ‘cool’ personality he tried to put out.\n\nTurns out Drake was killed by the ‘Super Serial Murderer’. Pretty stupid name, if you ask me. Not that the murderer himself had any choice, they were never found out. After that, more heroes started dropping. Nolan was the second on our team to go. Three people wasn’t really enough for us, so we filled the ranks with a couple newer kids. Jeremy got an opportunity for a promotion. Going to become the new head of the state’s foremost team. Thrust into the spotlight, and whatnot.\n\nI got that promotion, after Jeremy died. So now I’m famous, I guess. It’s certainly nice to be on a team with a more mature group of people. Always going after super villains, always feeling appreciated for my powers. One of the stronger in the group, of course, but there’s no competition among us, we’re beyond that. We’re all household names.\n\nSo yeah, I killed Jeremy. Maybe this is a confession? I’m burning this afterward. There’ll probably be a power someday where someone is ‘really good’ at reconstructing paper, and then they’ll know. Maybe I’ll be found out by then.\n\nLots of maybes.\n\nAnyway, Yrrick is here. Time to go find some more villians." ]	[ 1, 1, 5 ]	[ "1471148292", "1471154409", "1471155173" ]
	[WP] Humanity sends a generation ship to a nearby inhabitable planet, destined to arrive in 300 years. 50 years after, light speed travel is discovered. The planet is colonized 245 years before the generation ship arrives.	237	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", " Dr. Johnson tapped his fingers with a mix of apprehension, excitement, and anxiety as the distant planet came into focus and the ship's grand computer began to organize the data for him. Almost 300 years ago, his ancestors had boarded a vast colonial ship with the dream that maybe, just maybe, Plaurisis IV might be something they could colonize. And here he was, about to be the very first human to see some real hints about what the planet was like. \n\n Finally, the results came through, and Dr. Johnson began eagerly pouring over the information. He stopped at the estimated atmospheric oxygen level. Twenty four percent? That was quite fortuitous, if accurate. The rest of the report was pretty good looking two, almost to the point of suspicion. He slumped back in his chair. Of course, he thought. He'd been having a conversation with Elliot the other day about the early years of New Dawn's voyage, and its last few messages with Earth, in particular. \n \n Apparently, faster than light travel had been invented back on the home planet about 50 years after New Dawn had left, and there was a high chance of a ship being sent to Plarisis IV. Could that be? Could the planet he was heading to already be inhabited by a well established human colony? Or maybe something else? Heck, it could be chance. He pushed his own speculation aside and left to share what he'd found with the rest of the terra-form planning committee.\n\n They were quite excited by it; at the very least, this atmospheric setup would make terraforming the planet much easier than anticipated. They too, wondered if other humans were already living there, but the group resolved not to discuss that possibility with the colonial populous just yet. They did decide to beam a few high powered radio messages towards the planet though, just in case. Tina went to work on it while the rest of the group began preparing a broadcast for CNN, the Colonial News Network. (Supposedly, this name was a pun or something.)\n\n A few days later, the answer came. Several high powered radio patterns blitzed across the ship's antennae, and the computer automatically alerted the watch committee, who got to work and made some calls. It took a few more exchanges of signals before they could dial in the source and find a pattern in them. Finally though, a clear, unambiguous message was deciphered.\n \n \"Hey! Glad to see you could make it.\"\n\n The people gathered in the room quickly grew to include everyone in the watch, terraform planning, and executive committee, as everyone crowded in to stare at the message in awe. After a long period of stunned silences and swooning, the captain decided that a reply was in order. It took a few minutes, but eventually one was settled on.\n\n \"Thanks! Hope we're not too late to the party.\"\n\n It took an agonizingly long time to get a new message. Ten minutes? Twenty? Some practically asphyxiated as they held their breath for a reply. They knew it take a while for the message to travel to the planet and back, but no one wanted to miss a thing here. Eventually, an alert was heard, and everyone perked up as the screen flickered to show a new message.\n\n \"Actually, no, not really.\"\n\n People had just started to talk when a new message came up. \n\n \"What kind of picture formats can your computer use?\"\n\n A few exchanges later, and what people could still fit in the tiny room looked upon an astounding picture. It depicted a human in a bio suit standing on a rocky surface; he was looking at the camera and gesturing at the vast expanse of sparsely vegetated terrain. The picture came with a caption.\n\n \"We got here about 250 years ago; we've been giving it a makeover ever since. The air's pretty much breathable now, but none of our Terranauts have taken off their helmets yet. We thought one of you might like to do the honors.\" \n\n Elliot rolled out of his chair as the captain fell into it, narrowly avoiding embarrassment. Everyone relaxed and felt tired as situation materialized in their minds. The captain ordered non-essential personnel to leave the room, and for the computer's decision assistance program to be brought online. With his permission, a small team began preparing a broadcast. The next few hours, days, and weeks would be alarmingly exciting, but for now, there were decisions to be made. Who should take the first breath of alien air? Quite a decision indeed. \n\n ", "It had already been two weeks since contact was made. Two weeks of endless interviews that felt like interrogations. The daily regiment of rations and vaccinations, while a welcome change from the limited options a generation ship can provide over 300 years, made Maurice wonder if there were any diseases left in humanity. As he waited for the daily scheduled conference with the planetary colony, Maurice rehearsed his points of protest against the continued isolation. The frustrated started boiling up to the point that he could no longer keep sitting and still, instead standing and leaning forward across the comms table, staring at an empty chair. \n\nSuddenly, a bluish disembodied upper torso came into focus followed quickly by the colony director's face. Maurice hated this form of communication. The difference in technologies made the few people they did talk to seem motionless and their voices harsh and cold. All the more it fueled Maurice's frustration to be face-to-face, to be able to actually reach out and shake hands. \n\n\"Morning, Maurice.\" Paul spoke. The flatness made it seem like he was stating a fact rather than extending a greeting. His eyes stared blankly ahead while his hands were interlocked in front of him. \"Have you completed the report we requested yesterday?\"\n\nMaurice sighed audibly as he picked up a small tablet with one hand. He gestured it to the hologram, \"Right here, as ordered.\" He gave it a glance and, cocking his head to one side, inquired, \"We've already given our logs, reports, and personal records about the journey and most of these questions are the same updates we give everyday. Is it all necess....?\"\n\n\"Necssary? Yes, it is.\" Paul interrupted. The tablet in Maurice's hand gave a ping. \"Thank you for your continued diligence, Maurice, and pass on my thanks to the crew. Have the rations and medications been sufficient for everyone? Any side effects?\" \n\nAgain, Maurice sighed in exasperation at Paul's tireless adherence to the same rote answers. \"No! There's no side effects! No hunger, no sickness, no space madness or whatever you're worried about! I demand to know when we will be allowed planet-side!\" Maurice began to grind his teeth as his hands now became clentched fists. \n\nPaul answered reservedly, \"Maurice, I've already explained the importance of this temporary isolation. You and your crew, being the only instance of a humanity being completely cut off from others, are the single best sample to see how culture survives and changes, how scientific progress either duplicates or diverges, not to mention the physciological adaptations to generations-long space travel. I sense your frustration in the process and I will provide something to help with the anxiety. Tell me, do others feel this way.\" \n\nMaurice was crestfallen. With a hopeless thump he slid into his chair. Throwing up his hands, \"A couple. Not everyone. I guess it's just that we've been looking forward to this for so long. I...\" He trailed off. \n\n\"I understand, Maurice. We're very close to completing enough initial work to allow your crew to integrate with colony. We appreciate your continued cooperation. We're sending the new questionnaire shortly. The daily supplies will arrive in about an hour. I will communicate with you tomorrow at the same time.\" \n\n\"See you...\" Paul's vision disappeared into darkness before Maurice could finish \"...tomorrow.\"\n\nAlice entered the room. \"Did you already communicate with Paul?\"\n\nWearily, Paul nodded his head. \"Another damned questionnaire will be uploaded soon and the supplied will be arriving. Can you handle the reception?\" \n\n\"Of course.\" Alice said and turned to leave. \n\n\"Hey, Alice?\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Don't you find this strange? The repetitive questions and rations and cold communications?\" \n\n\"I don't know what else I would expect. They're doing their job just as we are,\" Alice replied.\n\nMaurice turned in his chair towards Alice and spoke, almost in a whisper, \"Aren't you excited to see the planet? Are you not anxious to meet new people, see a city on solid ground and not spinning in space?\" \n\nA moment passed, although Maurice saw no emotion pass her face. \"It will definitely be a new experience, but until then we have our day's work. There will be time for excitement when the work's done, I suppose.\" \n\nAnother moment passed and Alice took it as permission to leave. Maurice watched her go and shaking his head, returned his attention to his desk. \"Another 'day's work', I suppose,\" he said to himself.\n\n\nMeanwhile, planet-side. Paul watched Maurice's holographic likeness dissipate. He then turned to another colonist who was sitting off to one side. \"He continues to show great frustration, anger, and a loose regard for policy and authority. Should we increase the dosage?\" \n\n\"No,\" replied the other, \"he clearly shows some sort of resistance either physicologically or psychologially. We'll need to identify the others like him and bring them in for examination.\"\n\nPaul looked puzzled, \"So soon? I thought we had a few more weeks of trials. The new drugs seemed particularly effective on the lab subjects in suppressing these kind of outbursts.\" \n\n\"The timetable has advanced.\" replied the other, \"A 'rescue party' is being formed on Earth to come for us which requires us to move fast. We'll have to use what we've learned to subjugate as much of Earth as possible.\"\n\n\"The rest?\"\n\n\"A necessary sacrifice to save mankind from its self-destructive nature.\"\n\nPaul thought on this moment, but the Asphodel drug blinded him to the irony. \"Of course,\" he replied, and returned to his work. ", "It had taken twelve years for the first human colonists to feel at home on Hestia, and the first children were born only one year after that. Those children were the first settlers on a grand frontier, the limits of which were enough as to be non-existent. One hundred years later after the birth of the first generation of Hestian-born humans, the human species had colonized dozens of planets across their little part of the galaxy. Two hundred and forty-five years later, their technologies had seen huge advancements. Half the galaxy had been mapped, much of it by autonomous probes that leaped from star to nebula to black hole on fingers of light. The common citizen could scarcely remember when spaceflight was a danger, and the idea of interstellar travel that took years, or even decades, was a story that their great-great grandparents had long since ceased to tell.\n\nFifty-five years before the first humans arrived on Hestia, and fifty years before the creation of faster than light travel, the generation ship Dawn Light was sent from earth carrying two hundred of the finest men and women, none of whom would ever see their destination. It would take the Dawn three hundred years to arrive. \n\nGalactic officials had been told the exact time and place that the Dawn Light would be entering the Hestian solar system. They watched through their telescopes and sent their probes to fly, undetected, at the side of the huge, asteroid-scarred generation ship. They watched as the ship began it's braking maneuvers, slowing from two percent of the speed of light to a speed that would allow for the entry into orbit. In cities across the planet, crowds gathered, turning their eyes upward toward the night sky. On viewscreens across the galaxy a trillion people watched as the behemoth starship became visible as a bright point of light. They watched then as the missiles, smaller pinpricks in the dark, leaped across the void and sent flames washing over and through the vessel's hull. Gasps arose from the crowd as burning points of light flew across the sky and the metal skin of the Dawn Light split, spilling it's guts out into vacuum. \n\nPeople on the planet's surface covered their eyes as several of the ship's nuclear warheads detonated above the atmosphere, throwing the faces of those watching into squinting, awestruck relief.\n\nPeople turned away then, in ones and twos. Then in droves, returning to homes, or to businesses. In a few hours the first of days worth of debris would begin to streak the atmosphere with burning white lines. Two people walked in silence to a small roadside cafe, styled in the manner of classic mid twenty-first century, and ordered drinks. They they sat silently, each lost in their own thoughts, one leaning back on a three legged stool, the other resting comfortably against the counter, her three eyes wandering over cafe decor. Their drinks arrived, one in a tall thin glass, another in an earthenware mug. She gripped the mug in a scaly hand.\n\n\"To two-hundred and forty-five years of peace,\" She said. He picked up his glass. \"Yeah,\" He said, raising his drink, \"To peace.\"\n\nClink.", "There was an announcement made to us that \"the ship\" would be arriving today. \n\nA three hundred year journey with the intent of establishing a colony for us Humans. They were bringing all the supplies needed to create something new. We were looking forward to welcoming them so we could surprise them with how far we have come. \n\nEverything about their mission had been documented and it was our bible. Every one of us needed to understand what they were bringing and how to help when it was time. \n\nI was part of the welcoming committee. The ship was an autopilot program. We knew exactly where it was going to land and when. \n\nThe ship broke through our atmosphere at precisely when it was supposed to and as I had grown up understanding, it would take 45 seconds before it landed and another 2 minutes as the landings platforms opened and the bulkhead doors would open and we could great our long awaited guests. \n\nWe were already up the ramp after it was lowered as the doors of the ship began to open. The doors opened fully and we stared into a vacant hallway. \n\nWe were completely dumbfounded. Where was everyone. There should be around 7 thousand people on the ship by now. \n\nThe ship was silent. We walked into the ship and marveled at all the things that we had learned about from the photos of this ship. I couldn't wait to see the Forrest chamber at the center of the ship. A mile long box on all four sides of all kinds of plants and flora brought from earth to here to help. \n\nWe arrived at the Forrest chamber and found an empty box. A square mile of shiny metal nothingness. The sight was breathtaking and heartbreaking. \n\nI felt my stomach churn and a hotness under my skin. I felt I may be sick. I wasn't.\n\nWe continued through the ship to what was t be the command deck. Again empty. Left in pristine condition. \n\nAll the screens were off and all the controls remained dormant. All except for one blinking green button on the control console. \n\nI pushed the button and a single screen turned on behind us. \n\nOn screen the captain of the ship appeared and began to speak. \n\n\"My name is Miles Benjamin Gallo. I am captain of the Infinity and today is right around May 12th of our fiftieth year of our planned 300 year journey. \n\nYesterday at approximately 23:00 hours we were knocked off course by somethin passing us, a comet or something, it caused significant damage to the ship. We will be performing maintenance on the hole tomorrow and will be taking the ship off of its auto pilot status to correct the issue.\" \n\nThe video cut off and another screen in the room lit up with another video. \n\n\"My name is Claudette Marie Anderton. I am captain of the Infinity and today we mourn the death of Captain Gallo, we are now back on course with our autopilot but two days ago we had a major malfunction...\" \n\nThe video cut off and then another screen turned on with yet another video log.\n\n\"My name is Adrian Patel I am captain of the Infinity there seems to be a problem with the...\"\n\nAgain the transmission was cut short and again another screen. \n\n\"Hello.\" \"My name is\" \"Good Morning I am..\" \n\n\"Sarah Travers\" \"Richard Lambden\" \"Samuel Washington\" \n\n\"Captain of the Infinity\" \"The Infinitys captain\" \"Infinity captain:\" \n\nThe video logs of all the captains went on for over 12 hours. Each detailing some sort of issue with the ship and their attempts to resolve it and what collateral damage it took on the crew and the ship. \n\nThe data logs lasted for about ten years before there was nothing left.\n\nAnd then it hit me, and no one else seemed to understand what happened. So I kept my mouth shut. \n\nWe exited the ship while the days light was fading and found an anxious crowd wondering where they were. \n\nThey are all dead. They never even made it a quarter of the way here before the ship was vacant and back on course. Almost 220 years of pure silence the Infinity traveled here.\n\nWe had a few days to gather information from the ship before I was to give a statement to my people. \n\nI now had to figure out how to break it to everyone that when our forefathers developed faster than light travel we were so eager to get here that we must not have considered the Infinity was in the same course to this planet that they took. At light speed you seemingly phase through anything I your way. \n\nThey passed through the Infinity just to be the first ones here. ", "Everyone in Colony One had come out of their homes to see it. Everyone had left their offices, their schools, their research centers.\n\nThe massive, cylindrical ship was over five kilometers in length and one in diameter, its interior walls covered entirely in artificial ground for plants to grow and buildings to be constructed. Gravity was provided by the rotation of the entire ship itself, the main reference point for its inhabitants was the long, luminous tube at the center of the cylinder, which dimmed to almost complete darkness every twelve hours to provide the illusion of night and day. Of course, such an illusion was easily broken by simply looking at the front end of the cylinder, where large circular slits, sealed by glass, allowed a partial view of the stars outside. And for decades, since their departure from Earth, the stars breaking the darkness of space had been the only view from those windows for the inhabitants of Colony One.\n\nHowever, that day the view had changed. Everyone came out to see it, it was announced by the televisions, by the radios, and every man, woman and child was now staring at the immense form that had materialized in front of the windows. It had been sudden, the only warning had been the stars distorting and bending a fraction of a second before its appearance. From their ever rotating point of view, the object appeared to be spinning slowly, and the people occasionally adjusted their heads to compensate; everyone's gaze was fixed at the end of the cylinder that they had called home, some for their entire lives. \n\n<<What is it?>>\n\n<<How did it get here?>>\n\n<<Why is it here?>>\n\n<<It's aliens... It's got to be aliens, right?>>\n\n<<What does the government know about this?>>\n\nIn a few minutes, the massive crowd had gathered towards the front of the Colony One, and slowly they agreed that the government had to know something more than they did. But just as some people were preparing to take the shining silver cars of the ship's transport system to reach the Government Center and demand explanations, the loudspeakers in the stations and in other places around the ship rang. The voice from them was calm, placid, and reassuring - it sounded like age, like experience, and for a brief time, the crowd was silent.\n\n<<Citizens of Colony One, this is President Kersing talking. As you have all probably noticed by now, we have been approached by... some type of space vessel. We do not know its origin, but we are doing everything we can to investigate and establish contact, which at this point we deem inevitable.>>\n\nLoud buzzing broke from the crowd. People were talking, wondering what it all meant, some asked if the government could be holding something from them, others hoped that the aliens would take them away. Although, those with a sharper eye could see, despite the rotation, that the mysterious ship didn't look much alien at all - in fact, a few elder men, who had boarded the Colony One back when it was still around Earth, could swear that some of the components of the vessel looked similar or even the same to what they saw on the outer hull of their own ship.\n\nSure, some features on the \"alien\" ship were unusual, the most prominent of them being two enormous rings large enough that they surrounded the entire ship, one by the front end and another by what people assumed to be the rear end, as what appeared to be enormous rocket nozzles were located there. Just before them, the ship featured a set of gigantic round containers that appeared to be mounted on a central axis, from which sets of beams that held the rings also departed. In a way, it was similar to their own generation ship: everything was built around a central beam or rod of some type. Other components were attached around it, and some appeared to be emitting a light of their own through a set of small slits.\n\nAs the people were just starting to abandon the front to return to their homes and wait for more information, the loudspeakers at the station and around the ship spoke again. This time, even televisions and radios repeated the message, but the voice wasn't familiar.\n\n<<Citizens of the Colony One, this is captain Marcus Hvar talking, from the SWS New Harmony. With the authorization from your government, I have some information that I believe you deserve to know. First of all, SWS is for Spacetime Warp Ship. We come from Proxima Centauri, your destination, and we aren't aliens.>>\n\nThe voice went on to explain how not one, but two of the planets orbiting the star had already been colonized, and how humanity had conquered the very fabric of the universe by learning to twist and bend it, in order to reach speeds faster than light. The two massive rings around their ship apparently had some kind of fundamental role in that. The captain also explained how the rotation of the Colony One was to be stopped in a few days, to allow the more advanced ship to dock and mount a rescue operation.\n\nAt first, there was apathy. What many initially wondered was how they couldn't have seen it coming. After all, human progress was forever advancing - did the designers and sponsors of their mission really not imagine that, some day, technology would have advanced to the point of making their entire existence pointless? But at the same time, could they be blamed?\n\nMost of the \"first generation\", that is, the now old people who had come from Earth to populate the ship before its departure, felt relieved; at the same time, many second and third-generation colonists couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. They had been taught since their childhood how important their mission was to the progress of humanity, but now it appeared that progress had significantly overtaken them. They were late. \n\nOn the day before the ship's rotation was to be stopped, the president of Colony One appeared in public, right below the fore windows, past which the superluminal ship could be seen, waiting. Aided by the voice of Captain Hvar coming through the speakers, he promised that no colonist would have been taken back to Earth; instead, everyone was to be taken to their original destination aboard the New Harmony. The ship would have had to make several hour-long trips, but the captain assured that frequent interstellar travel was now the norm for the human race, and that everyone would get to see their promised land. In the ears of everyone, it sounded like a miracle, because not a single one of the colonists ever had the expectation to see Proxima and its planets himself. \n\nWhen the day came, the first batch of people was taken to the warp ship, after which the two vessels undocked and the Colony One resumed its rotation.\n\nOn the New Harmony, the colonists felt only a slight hum before the ship bent space around itself and the stars that they could see through the windows deformed and became blue. They stared in wonder.\n\nTheir wonder was even greater when they saw Proxima Centauri b, or as humans had come to call it now, New Earth. The planet had a light green hue, tinged by blue, with white, striped clouds streaking its atmosphere. It shined below them like an aquamarine gem as they boarded the transfer shuttle. Through the atmosphere, they could make out seas, land, lakes and what appeared to be forests of a very bright green.\n\nAs the shuttle entered the atmosphere and red-hot plasma enshrouded its body and wings, they knew that they were heading home. After all, that had been the original plan all along - to find a new home, to colonize it and learn to live there, to advance the human race through the stars. And little did it matter if they were late.\n\nThe ship's doors opened to a blue sky and a lush plain of strange-looking grass and shrubs. As the roar of the massive engines dwindled to silence, they heard alien chirps and squawks, and the sound of wind.\n\nThey were home.\n\n\n---\n\nI feel like my descriptive sequences are too long. Feedback is greatly appreciated, and of course, thanks for reading!" ]	[ 1, 1, 5, 11, 19, 58 ]	[ "1471209885", "1471239073", "1471227733", "1471220122", "1471229410", "1471219293" ]
	[WP] A package arrives on your doorstep. Its contents include a floor plan of your house, detailed biographies of each member of your family, and a weekly schedule of everyone's activities. Bewildered, you look at the label and realize it was addressed to the sweet, 85 year old lady next door.	25	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I closed the briefcase and felt the world pause around me. It was a curious action, one that I had done for a third time, as if trying to wish away what I had just seen. Just a moment ago, my eyes were gazing at a neatly organized pile of papers and photos. \n\nThe photos themselves were nothing harmless, just pictures of myself eating a sandwich, a picture of my live-in-girlfriend browsing Time Magazine, and our pets doing a whole lot of nothing, the lazy creatures they were. Each piece of paper, however, carefully outlined each and every detail of our lives: when we woke usually, when we did laundry, and eerily, the average time, in seconds, of my bowel movements. How did they even know that? Also, was I that irregular?\n\n\"Amazon will sell pretty much anything, won't they?\" I muttered to myself wearily, finally having accepted the skin-crawling reality. Nearby, a haphazardly opened box with \"Amazon Prime\" tape was laying agape, its contents already having been forcefully stripped away. I had opened it expecting it to be something I had ordered a few days prior. Admittedly, the box was much too large to have been the box of condoms I had actually purchased. \n\nI examined the label to find out just who had ordered a stalker's dream incarnate. It was meant to be delivered just a door over to Madam Edna Moedia. Absolutely impossible. Not only was she about a hundred years old, but she was the sweetest old lady I had met in my life, including my own grandmother. \n\nThoughts raced through my head as I tried to figure out why she would order something like this.\n\nDing-dong. \n\n\"Coming!\" \n\nAs my thoughts raced and writhed about, I vaguely heard the pitter-patter of footsteps and the opening of the front door, just a few feet away from me.\n\n\"Oh.\" \n\nI glanced over my shoulder and stared at the owner of the voice. Before, where I had seen warm and inviting dark eyes, I only saw a glossy blackness. A terrible, all-knowing blackness.\n\n\"It's not good to open other people's mail.\"\n" ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1471238504", "1471241594" ]
	[wp] You are the judge of the afterlife. Your sense of justice is entirely tied to how far people chased their desires.	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"But I sacrificed everything for my children.\", the old lady yelled. Her eyes were pitch black, suited very well for the place I was going to send her. Although she was crippled she was standing tall, her cane practically invisible. From her face you could tell she used to be a beautiful woman. Nothing is going to change for her now. I'm sending her to hell and she will always look like this. On the inside and on the outside. Once I decide where they go, people become their best version of themselves if they end up in heaven or the worst if they end up in the bad neighborhood of the afterlife. I'm tired of explaining where they went wrong, but I have to. Nobody can go to hell without knowing why they are there. The weird part is that hell ended up being full of people who sacrificed themselves for the good of others, while heaven is filled with narcissists. God included.\n\n\"You weren't supposed to. Ever since you were little you wanted to protect the poor people. Your path was to become a successful lawyer. But then you entered a race with your friends of who takes better care of their children and, in order to win, you quit your job. Even your kids hate you for the constant supervision and nagging.\"\n\nJesus Christ. He's the one who fucked up. I know he's the son of God, part of the Holy Trinity and so on, but did he screw up. He went down there preaching about loving one another. All good until he let himself crucified. Now everybody wants to bear some cross in life. I'm sending more Christians to hell than child raping. And it's all because they let go. Goddamn it, they should just follow their hearts. Given the correct circumstances I let in even people who committed a crime or two. As in killed somebody. \n\nLike this guy. John Smith. A regular name. Didn't murder anyone but he constantly stole money from his parents and friends. Two times he took their car and sold it. Second time was a rental. They don't even know. Another time he stole some family ring from his girlfriend he was supposed to marry. And then he didn't even marry her. Said she was holding him back. All that just to have what to eat while pursuing his dream of becoming an actor. Never got anywhere but not from the lack of trying. I guess sometimes ambition and hard work don't replace talent.\n\nThe next guy shouldn't get in, but I have to let him in. Ever since he was 7 he had a crazy crush on the girl next door. Always very shy, nerdy looking fellow. She was the popular girl. Stalked her all her life and when she was almost ready to marry somebody, that somebody would suddenly disappear. After 4 of these events, nobody tried to propose ever again. He would've but was too shy to ask her out. Just watched from the distance all his life. Literally followed his heart's desire. Heavenly passion.\n\nThis one is a weird case. Susan Martinez is the product of rape. Her mother kept her, nobody knows why. What everyone knows is that she loved her cats so Susan, in order to get any affection, had learned to say \"Meow\". She learned to love being a cat and never recovered her entire life. Moved around from psych ward to psych ward, nobody could cure her from her love of being a cat. But she did what she loved despite what society told her which is very different from my first case today, the old lady, so I have to let her in. I wished somebody fixed these people after they get in. Heaven is a crazy place.\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471246376", "1471278883" ]
	[WP] For the next 24 hours, every single person on the planet will be trying to find and kill you. You are given a thirty minute head start. What is your plan?	37	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I was 100% positive that in the next 36 hours, I would be dead and yet, I couldn't deny that it was a particularly nice day. The Florida sun was bright overhead and the air was humid but the sky was cloudless and birds were chirping. On any other day I'd be sitting at my mundane desk job, pushing pencils around and making awkward small talk at a water cooler but not today. If it really was my last day on Earth, I refused to spend it staring at a computer. I'd already said what I had to say to my family and now, I was waiting calmly. I'd known this day was coming for nearly a month now and my picture had been circulating through the media for almost a week. An old mad, mid fifties maybe, sat on a bench near me and looked at my face for a moment. He seemed pretty contemplative until he finally spoke up. \n\n\"Aren't you the one?\"\n\nConsidering my legal obligation, I turned around and lifted the small amount of hair that currently covered the nape of my neck, exposing a small tattoo. I hadn't ever seen it personally but from what I was told on TV, it was a group of concentric rings with two lines going through it. It sounded like it looked nice.\n\nThe man nodded and stared off into the distance for a moment. He spoke up again after a few more minutes.\n\n\"A friend of mine, from waaaaaaay back when got chosen a couple of years ago. He was a nice enough guy just not very bright. Tried digging a hole in the middle of the woods and covering himself up with leaves and such. The dogs found him pretty quickly. Poor guy, never stood a chance.\"\n\nAnd just like that, he was back to his contemplative look. Quietly staring off into the distance, without a word.\n\nAt last, I rose up from the seat. He stayed where he was but looked up at me.\n\n\"Good luck.\"\n\nThe light went from bright and hot to golden and warm. It was like the last hug from your mother on your first day to school. Comforting and nice but with a sadness behind it that you can feel but not explain, a type of melancholy that you associate with a change that you've accepted but still, in some way, wish to fight.\n\nI looked at the clock. It read that it was 11: 27. I looked at Marco, the agent assigned to me to make sure that I didn't start running or preparing before time had begun. He was a man of few words, Marco. He'd lived with me for a month and kept a constant surveillance on me and yet, whether I died or lived, I'd be sad to see him go. Constant companionship was nice, and a rarity these days.\n\nHe finally nodded. I looked at the clock again. The second hand ticked over to the 12 and it was officially 11:30. My time had begun.\n\nI grabbed a small bag and jammed it full of water, a few snacks, a map, and some matches. On my way out the door, I picked up a can of gasoline that I kept in case of emergencies. I desperately hoped that I wouldn't need anything else. I'd thought about it for a month and thought that this was my best course of action. There just couldn't be a better way. I stepped out into my front yard, and looked to my left at the beautiful pine forests. My watch read 11:49 now. Pouring a trail of gasoline all along the trail as I walked through the woods, I soon noticed that the can was pretty light. I decided to conserve what little I had left in case of an emergency. One swipe and the match lit. I short toss and an entire trail lit up in flames. The pine needles that littered the floor acted as kindling, sending raging flames up the trunks of trees.\n\nWithin seconds, it seemed the entire forest was on fire. Within minutes, the world.\n\nI kept walking through the woods, dodging the twisting flames and continuously lighting the long trials of gasoline that Jason had laid out beforehand. What a pal. Jason was the best. Not only had he helped me, he helped me before the hunt even began! That was two different life sentences he could be charged with.\n\nIt didn't take long before practically everything was on fire. I could feel the heat singeing my eyebrows and hair. All I could smell was smoke and I drank the water from my bag often. I periodically checked my watch for the time and within what seemed like a few minutes, it was noon the next day. I'd already survived 12 hours and, judging from the map, I still had another 90 miles of forest to go. Though the physical drain of the heat and the walking was taking its toll on me, it was through shear force of will that I lasted another 10 hours. Only then did I hear the dogs barking.\n\nSomehow, they'd found a way around the towering wall of flame that had consumed the forest behind me. While I doubted that they were on a trail of any sort, it seemed pretty likely to me that they had something of mine and had recovered my scent from it. The dogs were just searching now, looking for any hint of me along the trees and bushes around me. I found a spot and hunkered down in the bushes. The thicket was, for lack of a better word, thick with tangles, briars, thorns and all manner of insects and annoyances. Here is where I stayed while the fire slowly roared around me. Embers began floating towards me and landing on the leaves and pine needles that made up the forest floor. I quickly stomped out the small fires but it wasn't enough. Soon, the thicket had burst into flames and I was forced to leap out.\n\nMere seconds passed but it seemed like an eternity as I stared into the dog's eyes. With no remorse, it let out a soulful howl that I would never forget. It had found me, and everyone knew it. My options quickly went from few to none. No matter what I did, I would be found and I would be killed. But I refused to accept that. As a man in a thick SWAT uniform burst through the trees, I turned my back and ran, ran fast enough to barely hear him scream over the crackling of the flames, fast enough that the cool night air was replaced with a furnace of sweltering heat faster than my lungs could acclimate, resulting in a searing sensation all in my body.\n\nI felt the flames lick at my clothes, my body, my hair while the smoke stung my eyes and choked my lungs. I felt the fire but, for the first time, I also felt free. No longer bound by a mundane life, I felt the primal exhilaration of a life or death situation.\n\nI embraced the fire and, though I didn't know whether I would live or die in those woods, I knew at last that I had lived.", "I looked up from my newspaper and looked at the strange lad walking around with his phone in hand. My head turns to the electronics store down by the corner, where the local broadcast station was currently blaring up my face for all to see. I swear silently and readjust my mask and then wave at the young man.\n\n\"You looking for the fellow too, kid?\" I said.\n\n\"Oh, you betcha, good sir! Seemed like a fair bit of sport for the rest of meself and the lads if I do say so myself.\"\n\nRight, there was no reward for it from what I remember. Just same random ass punk telling everyone that they ought' kill me by tomorrow for a laugh. Was trending on twitter as #killchad for a while. It was funny until my girlfriend tried to slit my fucking throat about an hour ago.\n\n\"Any idea where he might've gone, boy?\" I asked, \"Friend of mine was saying he'd a gone off and hitched a ride down to Berlin a few minutes ago.\"\n\nThe boy's eyes widened a bit with a hint of curiosity. He stared at me, wondering. But of course, I was a strange hobo wearing a clown mask. What did he have to suspect?\n\n\"Yeah,\" said the boy, \"I'd have done that as well if I were him. Didn't seem like he was rich enough to head off to hide among the Americans if you ask me. Be stupid too anyway. Wouldn't survive an hour.\"\n\nI nodded and continued flipping through the paper. Local headlines read \"Eccentric billionaire plans worldwide manhunt against childhood school bully.\" Paper was real old, if I remember. From last Sunday, most likely.\n\nI checked the black and white print closer. Yup. It was Sunday alright.\n\n\"Old man,\" the boy inquired, \"You been on the hunt for a while, yeah?\"\n\nI choke up a bit, unprepared. \"Well, it only started an hour or two ago, so I suppose so.\"\n\n\"Any idea where'd he have gone if not Berlin?\" the boy pressed on.\n\nI tap my finger against my mask. My mind churned its cogs and wheels together to escape the curious youth that stood before me.\n\n\"It's about four, so I'd be at home having some tea. Assuming I were him. You tried checking his house?\"\n\nMy girlfriend was currently hiding at my flat armed with my rifle collection ready to shoot anyone who might be me trying to enter my house.\n\nHe smiles warmly, \"Thanks, sir. Completely escaped my mind!\" Then, he ran off onto the sidewalk and started for what I can only assume to be my house. Figures that the telly station had reported almost everything about me a few hours back.\n\nOh well, time to just wander around the streets while reaching out weakly like a blind man for the next few hours. \n\nEveryone knows that the best way to avoid confrontation is to just scare everyone away by acting like a strange, deranged homeless man wearing a mask and acting all friendly-like in the middle of Britain. It's like finding a self-aware kitten who enjoys big-game hunting and cold baths.\n\nIt was the perfect plan, II thought, apart from the lack of tea." ]	[ 1, 4, 18 ]	[ "1471249776", "1471263184", "1471262825" ]
	[WP] Your 'do-over' device finally came in the mail. You can rewind time by five minutes any time you want, and you're going to use it to finally win over your crush. Unfortunately, your rival got his today, too.	12	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I sat next to Clara, glaring over at chad. He had won this round. I slammed down on my button again, listening to it make a slight hum, powering up, before it sent me flying through space time. My turn.\n\n\"Hey clara, i was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink sometime?\"\n\nShe giggled and nodded. Score! Me and Chad have been going back and forth for a couple minutes now. I think i have him stumped now! Hes been thinking for the past few minutes, while me and clara have been chatting it up. My face drops when reaches for his button and slams it down.\n\nMy heart drops in my chest.\n\nMy hand is on my button. And my button is whirring. I look up and meet the panic in his eyes, as we flash back another 5 minutes. \n\nHis hand is on the button. We share another look of terror as we flash back 5 minutes.\n\n\"What the fuck is happening?!\"\n\n\"I set mine to forward so that you wouldnt be able to undo me and clara!\" \n\nWe flashed again. This time my hand is already on the button. That awful fucking whirring noise. What are the odds we pressed our button exactly 5 minutes apart...\n\nFlash.\n\nFlash.\n\nFlash.\n\nWe flew back and forth through time like a yoyo. \n\nWe locked eyes in fear again. Me and chad were going to be here for awhile.", "Today was the day. The day I finally win her over. We had been friends since we were kids, but I have never found the right moment to tell her how I really feel. But with the arrival of my new \"Control Z\" I will be able to tell her how I feel and win her over in just 5 minutes. Well, 5 relative minutes, I am not super confident I will get it done in one try, but since I will be able to undo those 5 minutes I should be able to correct any mistakes. I just need to make sure I don't run out of charges. I figure 6 tries should be plenty though.\n\nI pack up my things and head off to school. Laura usually gets to class early and reads in the cafeteria before the first bell. That is where I will make it happen.\n\nI stop by my locker and grab the books I need for the morning. My palms start to feel a bit sweaty as I think about the upcoming conversation. The feelings of nervousness and excitement tie my stomach into knots.\n\n\"Nothing to worry about, if anything goes wrong, I can just undo it,\" I tell myself with a heavy sigh. \n\nIn the cafeteria, I find Laura and grab a seat next her. \"Hey, how's it going?\"\n\nShe looks up a bit surprised, \"Oh, hey Kevin. I didn't think you were one to get in early?\"\n\nI blush slightly, \"Well you know, just trying to be a little more prepared for class.\"\n\nThe conversation feels awkward, I quickly try to change the subject, \"so how did your weekend go?\"\n\n\"It was alright, just kinda hung out at home, took it easy. How about you?\"\n\n\"Yeah the usual, early morning practice with the team and then yard work with my dad. But I still managed to get some relaxation in. Anyway, I had something I wanted to ask you.\" My heart was pounding a million beats a second.\n\n\"hmmm, ok...\" she replied. She sounded nervous, as if she already knew and dreaded what I was about to say, but I kept going.\n\n\"I was wondering if you had a date for Prom yet? I blurted it out\n\n\"Umm, nope, at this point I may just go with some of the girls for fun.\"\n\nI swallow hard, \"Would you like to go with me?\"\n\n\"Oh that would be great. Just going as friends would just be so fun, and you will save a few bucks since I will pay for my own dinner.\" \n\nLaura smiles, completely oblivious to what I meant. I reach into my pocket and press the button the \"Control Z\" device. One attempt down.\n\nFive minutes earlier and back at my locker. I hastily toss all my stuff in and close it shut and head over the cafeteria as quickly as I can. I sit next Laura, \"Hey, how's it going?\"\n\nShe looks up a bit surprised, \"Oh, hey Kevin. I didn't think you were one to get in early?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I usually don't but I had something important I wanted to talk to you about.\" My palms were sweating again.\n\n\"Oh, ok, it must be important if it got you to school early.\" She laughed a little to herself.\n\n\"Laura, I know we have been friends for a long time, but the truth is I am in love with you!\" I almost yelled it. \n\n\"Wow,\" Laura's face turns bright red, \"Kevin that's really nice and all, but I think we are great friends and I would hate to jeopardize that.\"\n\n\"crap, I blew it.\"\n\n\"What? Kev...\" I cut her off, already hitting the button in my pocket. Two attempts down.\n\nAfter tossing my stuff back into my locker I head to the cafeteria and start up the conversation with Laura again. After exchanging some small talk I start my new approach.\n\nI take a quick breath and let it out, then turn to face her. \"Have you ever thought about our relationship?\"\n\nShe looks surprised, \"Our relationship? You mean as friends?\"\n\nI saw that coming, \"Yeah, but like we are good friends, don't you think? I mean you have always been there for me for a good laugh or a pick me up and I have been there for you at your track meets or to help with homework and even just those times when you feel like spilling all of your troubles out. Sometimes, I feel like we could be more than friends.\" I have a huge lump in my throat.\n\n\"Oh, damn Kevin, when you get up early you get emotional.\" She smiles at me, \"but I think I can see where you coming from. We do spend a lot of time together and we do get a long pretty well. Not sure I have really ever thought about it beyond that.\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's pretty crazy right?\", I am starting to lose it, my stomach is so twisted, \"but seriously, what if we just tried it once, nothing crazy just a no pressure, really chill date?\"\n\n\"Haha, wow you must be desperate, but ok, I will let you take me to the...\" \n\nJust then I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Someone standing just around the corner.\n\nI take a quick breath and let it out, then turn to face her. \"Have you ever thought about our relationship?\"\n\nShe looks surprised, \"Our relationship? You mean as friends?\"\n\nI saw that coming, \"Yeah, but like we are good friends, don't you think? I mean you have always been there for me for a good laugh or a pick me up and I have been there for you at your track meets or to help with homework and even just those times when you feel like spilling all of your troubles out. Sometimes, I feel like we could be more than...\" I pause, \"Does this feel familiar to you?\"\n\n\"Huh, what do you mean?\" Laura looks as confused as I feel. I could have sworn I was about to have a date planned with her.\n\n\"Oh hey guys!\" Derek comes half jogging into the cafeteria and walks right up to us. \"Fancy seeing both of you this early.\"\n\nHe must have a Control Z too. I reach into my pocket and hit the button, three charges down.\n\nStarting back at my locker, I run to the cafeteria. I know what to say, I just have to get to Laura and get through the conversation before Derek has a chance to set me back. I knew he could reset after I get the answer, but maybe if I am fast enough I can get through it and then stop him.\n\nStill out of breath I start up the conversation from before. It goes as planned. I try rushing it along a bit. Checking my watch I estimate I am about 30 seconds ahead of where he interrupted.\n\n\"Haha, wow you must be desperate, but ok, I will let you take me to the concert this weekend. Deal?\" Laura sat smiling up at me.\n\n\"Deal, but I got to go.\" I turn towards the hall Derek came from before and head to it. \n\nRight as I reach the corner he rounds nearly plowing me over, we both fall. \"Hey watch it dude!\"\n\nDerek sits up, \"wait, how did you...?\" I see him reach for his pocket. \n\nI jump at him and grab his hand and pin it to the ground. With his other hand he punches, trying to get me to let go. I hold on for the first few hits, and then block one. Laura run's up yelling for us to stop. But we won't, both of us know that this whole scene won't even exist once we reset the last 5 minutes again. I pull away and reach into my own pocket and press the button, four charges down.\n\nI end up back in the middle of the conversation with Laura\n\nShe looks surprised, \"Our relationship? You mean as friends?\"\n\n\"Not quite, but can you give me five minutes?\" I walk towards the hallway again. \n\nI wait a minute and Derek does come, then I hear his voice from the Cafeteria.\n\n\"Oh hey Laura, how's it going today?\" Derek is standing next her seat. \"I thought I would come in early so I could talk to you.\"\n\nI run up, \"Derek, what the hell are you doing?\" My face was hot and red. I felt like steam was pouring from ears.\n\n\"What do you mean? I just came in early to see if Laura wanted to go out with me this weekend.\" He turns to her, \"Maybe a concert?\"\n\n\"That's not what I mean you ass, you have been using a Control Z!\"\n\n\"Well if I have so have you!\"\n\nWe both stand there staring each other down. Laura is looking down at her phone, swiping away. She finally puts it down. \n\n\"You idiots!\" She hastily reaches into her bag and pulls out a small device, it looks a lot like the Control Z I had been using, but is a bit larger.\n\nStarting back at my locker, I run to the cafeteria. I know what to say, I just have to get to Laura and get through the conversation before Derek has a chance to set me back. I knew he could reset after I get the answer, but maybe if I am fast enough I can get through it and then stop him.\n\nI start up the conversation with Laura, but she interrupts, \"Just sit down and wait Kevin.\"\n\nI do what she says, a bit confused and all of a sudden feeling guilty. After a few minutes Derek comes running into the Cafeteria. Laura tells him to sit down and shut up before he even says anything. He grabs a seat next to me, we both just stare at Laura, wondering what is going on. The pit in my stomach is growing.\n\nLaura looked at us sternly, \"Did you think you were the only ones with Control Zs?\"" ]	[ 1, 5, 5 ]	[ "1471257528", "1471276234", "1471282385" ]
Idea formed by /u/orost from a top post in /r/CrazyIdeas	[WP] You ask the stranger next to you to "watch your bag," without leaving. "after the last time we aren't allowed to have just one person watch it." you add hesitantly.	6	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Hey there, I have to run to the restroom. Can you watch my bag?\"\n\n\"Um... sure. It's not a bomb is it?\"\n\nI laugh, \"no no no. I just have to go to the restroom real quick.\" I start to walk away, but then I remember. \"Oh yeah, after the last time, we aren't allowed to have just one person watch it\" I say hesitantly. I instantly walk away relatively fast because I don't want him to deny.\n\n\"Hey!\" he yells, \"HEY!\" but I enter the restroom. God I hope he listens. Last time was a disaster. Thankfully, it's relatively crowded building... it should be okay. As long as he listens. He may have to board an earlier bus. I guess we'll see. I need to check my email real quick. I open my corporate email client, and see 20 unread emails. I quickly scan the top few.\n\n\"GET VIAGRA FREE! DON'T STOP BECAUSE IT WON'T DROP!\"\n\n\"FREE LAPTOPP! 100% FREE! JUST PAY FOR SHIPPING HANDLING!\"\n\n\"*TOP SECRET*: NEW HANDLING PROCEDURES\"\n\nOh shit, I better open that. Sent this morning. Shit shit shit. I hope I didn't just kill that guy. I open the email and it asks for my 16 digit PIN. I enter my randomly generated PIN 0846318453021579. Then it asks for my fingerprint. Damn, this one must be a bit deal. I scan my fingerprint.\n\nThe email opens and it reads:\n\n\"TERMINATE SUBJECT IMMEDIATELY!\n\nWe have received scattered reports that subject 148723 has been acting abnormally. There are no more safe handling procedures, as the subject is hostile for no apparent reason. The subject must be terminated immediately to sustain human life, and to lessen the amount of casualities.\n\nDO NOT ALLOW THE SUBJECT TO REMAIN ALIVE AT THIS TIME.\"\n\nFuck. I pull up my pants, no wiping today. I sprint as fast as I can to the door.\n\nBlood everywhere. There are bodyparts everywhere and I can't see one white piece of wall or tile anywhere. \n\n\"Help...\" someone says meekly.\n\nI run over to them. \"What happened?!\" \n\n\"Bomb... something... not sure...\" and then their head falls to the ground limply. I run to where I left the bag and see it is opened. Fucking idiot opened the bag. Of course he did. Even with all these people, opening that bag would kill them. If I had read that damn email earlier. \n\n\"Hello, handler\" I hear. I turn around and see him. Her. It. Whatever! I forgot how damn tall it was. At least three times my height. I see blood dripping from all over it's body. While it usually is obsidian black, now it is an extremely dark red. \"I think you forgot something.\" \n\nI see it's hand swiping towards me. Then darkness envelopes everything." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471259216", "1471268391" ]
	[WP] "Silly goose, don't you get it? You ARE the prize!"	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"What?\" I asked.\nWayne Brady rephrased \"Behind door number 3, you are the prize!\"\nAs I looked into the mirror, I thought about all the things that had to happen for me to get to this moment. That Kerri and I had to plan a trip to L.A. That the plane tickets had to be nonrefundable. That Kerri and I had to get into a big fight. What was it even about? I can't remember, something unimportant but in the moment seemed so. That we had to break up. That I had to move out. That I had to stay in bed for a week. That I had to cry. A lot. That my brother had to lift me out of bed a literally hose me off. That I flew. That I walked. That I was ushered cattle-like into a film studio. That the light blared, the sound deafened. That my name was called. \n\"Door 1, 2, 3 or keep the cash?\"\nCash? I didn't realize there was a wad of hundreds in my hand.\n\"3\"\nBecause to paraphrase an old song, 3 is just as bad as one but the loneliest number is the number one. Actually that's a direct quote. So to phrase an old song.\n\"Alright\" Wayne said clearly trying to keep the energy up \"let's see what you missed out on!\"\nJonathan announced the Ford Truck behind door 1. The audience was disappointed for me. I was disappointed in me.\nBehind door 2 was a home basketball set. I didn't have a home anymore more.\nWayne teed up the door 3 announcement. \"Let's hope your luck hasn't run out!\"\nThe wall raised and an old mirror stood there. \n\"A mirror\" I stated. No emotion, just fact.\nWayne, ever the professional, \"No silly goose, don't you get it? You ARE the prize!\"\n\"What?\" I asked.\nWayne Brady rephrased \"Behind door number 3, you are the prize!\"\nThe audience laughed. Wayne threw to commercial. No one wants to see a grown man weep.\n\"Are you okay?\" Wayne asked.\n\"I thought I was a zonk\" I explained, letting myself hurt but knowing that today was the first day of the rest of my life." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471291189", "1471322618" ]
	[WP]Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. Literally	11	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "It was war. \n\nWe, the great Alpha Tribe, greatest of all tribes, and rulers of Mars emerged from the caves of the red dunes. Fifty packs of us men ran ran with red dirt-covered bodies and red-stone spears in our hands. In the valley below lie our enemies...\n\nThe Venusarians. Strange Males bent on our destruction. They have invaded before and we sent them far away. We even caught some of them before, captured them and ate them. Their air-carriage landed on our planet once again and it was time for war. \n\nWe all ran to the bottom of the mountains where a large, flat plain lie. Ducking behind boulders and I peeked over the edge to get a look. Last time these Venusarians came I was too young to fight.\n\n\"Watch out for their craft,\" my father whispered. \"They make you feel strange just by looking at some of them!\"\n\nI was speechless as I watched their air-carriage open. Then I saw it, a Venusarian, step off the carriage. It dressed as we dressed, with only a cloth covering its sacred parts. I looked and noticed large protrusions from its chest. Suddenly, I was pulled down. \n\n\"Don't look anymore!\" I could see the fear in his red-dirt covered face. \"They lure you in with the craft until you are captured and then they kill you!\" \n\nI could say nothing. I wanted to look at the other Venusarians coming off the carriage.\n\nHe let go of my arm and peeked over the boulders. After a few minutes he sunk down again. His breath was hard, as running. \"They...\" He started. \"They are many and are different this time.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I asked.\n\nIn between breathes he uttered, \"They... they are like US this time. Not in the strange cloth like before.\"\n\n\"Can I see them again?\"\n\n\"Quickly.\" He granted.\n\nI peered over the coarse rock, spear still in hand. A pack of the Venusarians were out looking around. And like father said they were all dressed as Alpha Tribe. My eyes landed on one of the Venusarians with large protrusions on both the chest and backside. My heart started beating faster and faster the longer I beheld this particular Venusarian. Then my head began to buzz and I knew I was under their craft. I couldn't stop looking. \n\n\"Get down here!\" My father demanded.\n\nI dropped my spear. \n\n\"Son! Listen to me! Please!\"\n\nHe gripped my arm but it was too late. I was going to die. I felt my feet move. My whole body stood up. I was no longer in control of my actions. The Venusarians had me under their craft. \n\n\"They will capture you and skin you alive! Son! Please!\" \n\nMy fathers pleas didn't stop me. As if pulled by some invisible rope, I began to walk towards the particular Venusarian with the protrusions on both sides. I stepped over the boulder and walked across the plain. \n\nBehind me I could hear the screams of my fellow tribe members but I couldn't understand them. The buzzing in my head began to ring in my ears. I was sure to die. \n\nAhead, the particular Venusarian with the protrusions noticed me. It pointed at me and began to walk to me too. The others followed. \n\nI swallowed but my throat was dry. I could see them skinning me alive with a rock in my head. Like we do with the creatures here. \n\nThe particular Venusarian was now running at me. There were no weapons in it's hands, no rocks for skinning. \n\nDoesn't need weapons when it uses craft, I remembered. These Strange Males were so advanced they didn't need physical things to kill. Or skin.\n\nFinally, halfway in the plain, the Venusarian charged at me. I closed my eyes so as not to see my own death when-\n\nNothing. \n\nI opened my eyes. The Venusarian stood before me, staring. My head buzzed harder than ever. I wondered if the crafter was using it's craft on me to explode my head before it skinned me.\n\nIn a high voice it said, \"I am Woman of planet Venus.\" She pointed to the sky. \n\nMy face twisted in confusion. Woman did not explode my head. \"I am Alpha Male.\" I beat my chest to show I talked about me.\n\nThe other Womans joined, standing behind. \n\nI asked, \"Why do you come to kill us?\"\n\nThe first Woman continued, \"We no come to kill. We come to understand Man and to mate.\"\n\nNow I knew Woman was no good! It wanted to do to us what only creatures do to each other! There were strange high giggles from the Womans behind the first Woman. They down pointed at my cloth. I looked and noticed my own protrusion under the creature skin sticking straight out. I smacked it. It was hard as a rock! They used their craft!\n\n\"What did you do!\" I demanded.\n\nWoman stepped closer to me. \"Only what you are suppose to do.\"\n\nI couldn't stop it. Woman stepped closer, leaned over and touched my lips with it's lips. My heart beat faster and head spun harder. My arms were forced by its craft to grab it and hold it as our lips meshed together. \n\nIt was then that I knew I had been captured." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1471304499", "1471313788" ]
	[WP] Sent from the heavens, The Flood happens. In a matter of days, immense seas cover most of Earth. The last of humanity resides on the peaks of the Himalayas, the highest points on Earth. But the water still rises.	7	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Still rising. \nYeah. \nYeah. \n... \nSo? \nFucked if I know. Mentioned it. Don't know why. Too fucking cold. Too fucking hungry. Can't breathe. Can't sleep. \nYeah. \nYeah. \n... \nJon died. \nI know. \nYeah. I know you know. \nSo? \nChecked him over. \nYeah? And? \nThere's a bit. Freeze fast. Enough for a few days. \nAll right. All right. You gonna do it? \nNo. What for? \nEat a few more days? \nFor what? Freeze a little longer? No. No. \nNo? \nNo. I'm going to go for a swim, instead. \nAll right. \nThanks. You've been my friend. \nI know. \nI want you to know that. \nI know. \nI means a lot to me. \nI know. I know. \nThanks. Perhaps I'll see you again? \nMaybe. Who knows? \nYeah. \nI hope so. Shake my hand before you go? \nYeah. Take care. \nI will. \nOne favour? \nSure. \nSave me last? If it happens like that? \nSure, man. I will. \nThank you." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471304917", "1471307074" ]
	[WP] A brutal war that has been waged for many years started with a checkers game.	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "“Just tell me why the war started!” He yelled, so loudly the stained pictures in the walls shook with his voice covering me in more shame than I could ever imagine. I wont tell him. Ive held out this long, death will come tonight.\n \nI look over at the man in front of me. \n Robes of the noble, and an education to match, carrying my sword I know my kingdom will be in good hands with my son. He would have thrived if it were not for the quaralls of old men. I raise my tired eyes to his, for what my will hopes is the last time, “No” I whisper. \n“NO.” the rage he has kept hidden so long has finally risen. His eyes glaze over and his scar down his left looks more prominent than ever. Had he really been hurt that bad? \n“NO” He shouted, lunging for me. He grabbed my night robed from under my blanket and picked me up. Just months ago he could not have done this, and by his eyes, I know he knows this. The rage has left him slightly but the years of war and sacrifice will never go away. \n“Tell me old man” he says. We both know how this night will end. We both know that I am to die tonight but shall it be in my sleep or at the hands of my war torn boy? \nI think back to that night, I allow the memories to surface. God let the shame take me before I must speak. \n“ Father” says my son as he reaches for his belt, “Just tell me, this war needs to end and I can not agree to meet them if I do not know why they want me! Did we murder there son? Is that why they want me?” I see his panic now. The rage gone and tears are in there place as I realize why he is so scared. I never told him how serious this war was, ever since he was a boy he just knew we were fighting for our lives, for our kingdom. But now he has questions, he is old enough for the crown and I am to old to tell him, I can do him no go\n“Uhhah” I stuttered with what energy I had left. I looked up, not in horror, but admiration at my lands new king.\nsobbing he asked me for what was the final time, “Father, please”\n“He beat me.” I felt a weight lift from myself as I took my last breath, “at checkers.” ", "Two Kings sat beneath the dim torchlight as the wind wailed outside. Gusts of chilled air swirled around them. They sat, opposite one another, with the black and white board laid out on the table before them. The game that would decide the fate of the Kingdoms.\n\n\"Your move, Regnik.\" The first growled, clenching his teeth as he stared into the young King's eyes.\n\nBuralick, the older of the two brothers, was considerably stockier and his arms were as big as tree trunks. Veins throbbed in his biceps as he snatched the mug and slurped the last of the ale. He slammed the wooden mug down and tightened his grip.\n\nRegnik looked at him, smiling as he watched the liquid trickle down and disappear in his furry beard. His brother had always been impatient, strong and quick tempered. He was not, by virtue, very smart. He was the one who inhereted those genes. It was a wonder that they were even blood related. \n\nAs they continued playing this game, Regnik couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for denying his Brother the rightful throne he was destined for. After his Father's death, he knew Buralick would cause famine and pain for the majority of the lands and he couldn't sit by and watch it happen. His ideology on the \"Glory of Sunshine\" and how everyone should worship the Sun instead of actually labouring and harvesting for the fast approaching winter, was sure to cause disaster. He had to step in.\n\nRegnik picked up the black cylinder, dancing it around his forefinger and middle finger before taking one of Buralick's pieces. He threw the white piece away and listened to it as it bounced noisily on the stone floor.\n\nFlames continued to dance and cast ominous shadows on the walls as the night grew darker still. Somewhere in the distance, a winged shadow shrieked as it spun in the air and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. A Siren. Common in these parts of the lands but very dangerous in the dark. They were lucky to be inside.\n\n\"Haha, wrong move Brother.\" Buralick chuckled and licked his lips. A grin formed, revealing a crooked row of yellow teeth. He moved one of his pieces across the board taking 2 of Regnik's pieces. He glanced at his brother's skinny face, expecting a look of dismay. Instead, a lazy smile greeted him. He struggled to maintain his composure as Regnik smoothly moved another of his pieces forward, blocking his advance.\n\n\"By the Fires of Altmore remember. This is a game of life. You advance, I block. I attack and you defend. Just like life.\"\n\n\"Except ya deceiving me. The throne is MINE.\"\n\n\"The throne is not yours,\" Regnik rose his eyes from the board and focued on his brother's. Beads of sweat formed on his brow and his cheeks turned pink with anger. Regnik spoke clearly and calmly.\n\n\"The throne, dear Brother, belongs to me. I am the smarter of u--\"\n\n\"I AM THE STRONGER!\" Buralick slammed his fist on the table, causing a crack to form where his knuckles dented the wood. A sickening split sounded as he picked up his stool and threw it against the wall. It smashed into a thousand pieces. Buralick panted. Regnik watched, unblinking and unphased.\n\n\"Strength is not measurable to power, Brother. Power comes from those who know how to govern and control a land. You are a warrior, always have been, always will be. I will not deny that birthright for you.\" Regnik paused, studying his Brother's face in the orange light. Another gust of wind brought the faint glimmer of rain. He ignored it.\n\n\"What you cannot deny is that I have the words and the wit to outmanuever you on the field, in these silly games you devise and on the throne. It will be mine before this night is over.\"\n\nBuralick had heard enough. He growled in anger and grabbed the table, flipping it on its side. The white and black pieces littered the ground as they crunched under his boots. He stood toe to toe with Regnik, the smell of ale rank on his breath.\n\n\"I will destroy you on Palenta Fields. Gather your armies and march at sunrise on the second Frostbite. I will be ready for you.\" They shook hands reluctantly and stared at each other, marking the start of war.\n\n\"So be it. War it is and War it shall be.\" The flames continued to crackle." ]	[ 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1471309315", "1471310696", "1471350802" ]
[removed]	[WP] I wrote this (really) short thing a while ago. Does reddit want to continue it?	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nPrompts are not meant to share stories already written, but to inspire users to write stories. Check our [related link wiki](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/links) for more relevant subreddits. \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/4xymz7/wp_i_wrote_this_really_short_thing_a_while_ago/)" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471339657", "1471340058" ]
	[WP] In the future, humans are capable to stream their dreams. Those who are capable of lucid dreaming make the most money out of it. You're an amateur, unknown streamer who wakes up to find themself having the highest ratings ever recorded.	109	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "My navigator screams as I dodge the enemy fighters and approach the target. I squeeze the trigger and smile as the sky lights up. Oh boy, is the Princess going to want to -\n\n\"Beep, beep.\"\n\n\"Shut up you stupid droid.\"\n\n\"Beep, beep, BEEP.\"\n\nHuh? Oh, morning again. Sorry guys, I have to leave you hanging.\n\n----\n\nAh, another \"satisfying\" day. Goodnight, moon.\n\n----\n\n\"Hmm... I guess I'll choose this cup. Oh, hey. I'm still alive. Smell you later, loser. Don't worry dad, I'm coming!\"\n\n\"Beep, beep.\"\n\n\"Not now. Just let the cup go, ok? Let it go. I need to -\"\n\n\"Beep, beep, BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.\"\n\nHuh? It's not morning yet.\n\n\"Congratulations, Streamer 23007, you have surpassed the record set by 'Olympic Athletes and You'! Please choose a name to continue.\"\n\n\"Uh... Well, I really wasn't expecting this. I was just doing reruns of some old movies...\"\n\n\"Name saved, Streamer 23007! Thank you for using ViewTube!\"\n\n\n ", "I wake to the taste of blood, trickling down my throat - nosebleed, fuck! I’ve been woken up by nosebleeds on and off for the past seven years; one of the wonderful side effects of my sleeping pills. I shove two scrunched up tissues in my nostrils and check my phone for the latest dreampods. \n\nI look up PeteyBoy23 first as always. He’s a bit of a dick and I’d never admit he was my favourite podder but there’s something about his sick sense of humour. Plus, he said at the end of yesterday’s pod that he was going to play cat football in this one. I strap on my specs and hit play. \n\nThe lazy fucker, he hasn’t streamed it yet. Imagine earning all that money and being able to lie in on a Wednesday. Well, he’s not getting my view today. It’ll have to be DragonSlayerSue - bit heavy for first thing in the morning but fuck it. \n\nI pluck one of the tissues out of my nostril to see if it’s stopped bleeding. I take the other out and lie back to listen to Sue’s children’s TV presenter voice.\n\n“Hello lovelies! Are you all ready to slay another dragon? If you want to get any of the armour I’m wearing, it’s all been supplied by the LOVELY people of Topshop and I’ve got a mad discount code for you beautiful viewers” \n\nI sigh. It’s yesterday’s bloody episode.\n\nI reset the router and check all my other favourite podders. Nothing. I check the podders I watch when I’m on a long flight. Nothing. I even check the podders I watched when I was a kid; all now in their forties but still dreaming up unicorns and silly songs about farts. Nothing. \n\nI ring up DreamFactory’s customer helpline but it rings out. I try some of my friends who are amateur podders but there’s no answer. It must be this shitty phone, I knew I should’ve taken that upgrade. \n\nSomeone must have streamed their dream last night, surely! I decide to change the search parameters to videos only uploaded today. Thank fuck, there is one. Four and a quarter billion views! Man, everyone must have been watching this instead of streaming themselves.\n\nI shove my specs on and hit play. It’s a point of view dreampod. They haven’t been popular since I was a student but I’m craving watching a fresh pod so much at this point that the lack of presenter doesn’t really bother me. \n\nThe first few minutes are a boring walk through a forest until I see her. Dragon Slayer Sue. She’s there in the distance chatting about how people can find her own brand t-shirts on her website. She turns towards the camera.\n\n“How the fuck did you get in here?!”\n\nWhoever this podder I’m watching is doesn’t reply, they just stride towards her. \n\n“I don’t know how you’ve got in my dream but you need to get out now mate”\n\nThen I see the podder’s arms and the podder’s hands, stretching out towards Sue’s throat. As the hands tighten around her windpipe, their familiarity suddenly startles me. \n\nMy nose begins to bleed. ", "I wiped the corners of my eyes and stretched my arms, trying to muster the energy to rise out of bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my tablet blinking silently on my desk, where it sat charging on its stand. I looked at the clock on my ceiling. 6 AM. I had a couple of hours until I had to be at the office, and I heavily contemplated the idea of pulling the covers back up over my head, but a tugging in my gut made me glance back over at my desk again. My tablet was vibrating every couple of seconds now. A wave of anxiety washed over me, and I rolled over to my feet and stood up. I walked to my desk, nearly tripping on the cords and sandals, cursing under my breath, until I finally leaned over my tablet, squinting into the sudden brightness.\n\n \n\n \n\nDraumur, as it is now called, was an app developed a few decades ago by some college students from MIT and since then it had been bought and sold by dozens of companies. Eventually the government seized control of the dream-capture software, citing security and privacy concerns as the reason. One of the world’s most popular apps fell dark, and while there was some initial outcry and concern, public attention is a fickle beast, and some shiny, new distraction was all it took for society to mostly forget about it. For years, incredible leaps in technology and user experience bombarded the population, and only a few individuals, mostly confined to the recesses of conspiracy forums in the bowels of the web, were able to predict what was to come next.\n\n \n\n \n\nDraumur burst back onto the scene eight years ago. Being touted as a reimagining of the classic app by a beloved tech giant, it was of little secret that the government probably still had its hands in the software, collecting and mining the dreams of its users. But what Draumur now offered made almost everyone, including myself, forget about my concerns. We were now able to use it to make money.\n\n \n\n \n\nHow it worked, technology aside, was actually pretty simple. Like countless viewer supported platforms before it, Draumur worked by taking people’s creations and placing them on a website for anyone to watch, with the small caveat that the viewer had to see an ad or two first. Some of that ad revenue was passed on to the dreamer, and a worldwide phenomenon was born. This ad scheme was nothing new, in fact it had been going on for over a hundred years. The big difference now, however, was that the dreams were captured and uploaded with zero effort, zero production cost. There was nothing needed to become a hit, just your imagination and an internet connection. The ability to capture your dreams, put them online, and make money was too good of an opportunity to pass up, and Draumur became a gold rush.\n\n \n\n \n\nFor the first few years, dreams we have all experienced were the norm. Sexual desires, delusions of grandeur, situations of embarrassment and the occasional dark revenge fantasy were the champions of this new industry. Drugs were created that stimulated the dream center of the brain, artists and creatives worked tirelessly to innovate, and lucid dreamers were able to create movies in their minds, fulfilling the wishes of their viewers, bending the narrative on a whim. The application was even adjusted to allow daydreams, those thoughts on the cusp of semi-consciousness, to be uploaded, giving even more control to the content creators. Just in the past year, leaks started circulating about a system that would allow viewers to interact with their dreamers, somehow influencing their decisions during their dreams, but Draumur quickly squashed this as an impossible rumor.\n\nThis was about the time that I got involved in the program. I wasn’t a programmer, a creative, or an artist. I wasn’t a lucid dreamer. I wasn’t a sexual deviant. I set up the app, which was almost hilariously simple, considering the implications that come with tapping into the human psyche. I set it to autosave my dreams, and then they were posted out there for the world to see. Any hesitation I had to share my closest secrets through my dreams was quieted by the sheer volume and debauchery readily available on Draumur, and aside from a few key figures, most dreamers’ posts went largely ignored. Once a week, a meager check of a few dollars showed up in my account, viewer activity probably created by bots. My interest in the program lasted exactly one week.\n\n \n\n \n\nThis sudden, mass interest in the actions of sleeping humans created a species of zombies, sleeping as often as possible, waking only to eat, work, and watch videos. As none of it was real, everything was legal, and regular life seemed bland by comparison. The world had irreversibly changed as people no longer watched movies on Netflix together in the evenings after work, they now watched dozens of dreams about becoming trillionaires, traveling to distant planets, killing their enemies, or sleeping with their coworkers. I felt separated from everyone else now. At work I seemed to have no idea what my coworkers would be talking about, my friends only talked about the new top post on their favorite dream aggregator, and my family were so engrossed that I hadn’t heard much from them for weeks. To try to help me sleep, each night I would have the same thoughts, playing through a simple scenario in my head. It would usually work, in an hour or two. But for a week, it felt different. I’d start to drift but I’d suddenly wake, having to start over again, and I fell into the deep throes of insomnia, sleeping only in the wee hours of each morning. Four days ago, after watching a movie, I went to bed, prepared to lay awake for hours, screaming silently at how tired I felt, but unable to sleep. I fell right asleep. I have slept soundly every day since.\n\n \n\n \n\nAs I stared at my tablet, I saw messages from my friends and family, the few I still had. I also had a few missed calls. This was unusual, especially for this time of day, but what drew my attention was an email from Draumur, my weekly check. But instead of the normal subject line, depicting the bleak financial output that was to come, the email said CONGRATULATIONS! As I continued to read, I slowly slid down to the floor, leaning back against the legs of my desk, reading that in the past week, my channel became a sensation. I had earned $1.2 million. This couldn’t be real! I quickly thought back over any dreams I might have had over the last week, fearful that some unimaginably dark fantasy had played out, which would embarrass my family or get me fired. But then I saw an email my friend from work sent me, a link to an article. Clicking on it brought up an image of my account, and within it a video. It was a video of my daydream, with a news anchor commenting over it. On the screen I watched my daydream unfold, learning that in the past week, the aforementioned leak was real. Some hackers somewhere on the other side of the world found a way to tap into dreams and communicate with the dreamer, if only in subtle ways. As I continued to watch, I also learned that my daydream was turned into a game, with hackers around the world controlling my actions in the dream, with a nudge here and a whisper there. My dream was watched by millions as coordinated groups of hackers worked towards their goal, or against others.\n\n \n\n \nI learned that there was a prize on my head. Not in a violent way, but in an equally dangerous one. In an attempt to boost awareness of the dangers of the Draumur program, an anonymous donor was going to give $1 million to whoever could get me the farthest through my dream. For a week, because of my silly version of counting sheep, I was the butt of a worldwide joke. Some hackers worked together, driving me forward, as others tried to sabotage their attempts. More and more viewers watched my channel, learning about the event from their peers. I was kept in the dark. Eventually, someone was able to prove they were the one to drive me farthest through my dream, and a few days later, they were quietly paid. Then the news story broke. \n \n\n \n\nI sat quietly for a while, as I tried to make sense of what I just heard. As the video came to an end and began to loop again, I glanced down to it. And there I saw my daydream unfold, the small bird flapping its wings as it moved through each gate, counting as it went." ]	[ 1, 2, 10, 50 ]	[ "1471359586", "1471373988", "1471372828", "1471367545" ]
	[WP] Stalin faked the military purges of WW2, instead he silently transferred them to where they will be needed most. On another world to fight off a great threat.	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Huh. Well I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that.\" Said Mission Commander Hayes. He was to be the first man to step foot on Mars, or so he thought. When the Mars lander's airlock opened it was pretty clear that this was not the case. From the satellite images it looked like this area had been hit with a massive meteor barrage and so NASA thought why not send the first Marian astronauts there so they can collect not only Mars rocks but samples from the asteroids as well. As Commander Hayes looked out over the rust covered landscape it was shockingly obvious that not meteor shower caused this.\n\nThe area had been fortified by someone or something into a makeshift defensive perimeter. What was initially thought to be craters caused by space rocks was now revealed to be dug out trenches and blasts from mortar fire.\n\n\"Uh, NASA, what the hell are we seeing?\" Hayes asked into his headset.\n\nAstronaut Mike Dexter stepped out of the shuttle behind his commander, \"Yeah this is Dexter asking the same thing.\"\n\nHayes walked a little further out into the ruined battlefield. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted something that despite almost completely covered up with dust from years of being out here managed to catch his eye. He walked over to it and started to uncover the thing.\n\nEventually he'd removed enough of the dust to reveal what it was he was looking at and it scared him so bad it made him jump back. \"Holy!\" Hayes exclaimed.\n\nAstronaut Dexter walked over to where he was and looked at the thing sticking out of the sand. It was a spacesuit. An extremely old spacesuit that looked like it had been ripped to shreads, and written on it were the letters CCCP. \n\n\n\"Huh,\" Said Dexter, \"I guess this really is the Red planet after all.\"" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471364825", "1471366799" ]
Was toying with this concept today while at work and wanted too see if someone could write a piece on it.	[WP] Every person on earth (at the same time) loses the ability to repair damaged tissue, except you, but why?	1	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "You know, I never really understood the whole ‘animal rights PETA’ bullshit and all the ranting and raving about how animals deserved better conditions. They were mindless creatures that were used for a product that humans wanted; why did they deserve better living conditions than those working in sweatshops overseas?\n\nBut, you see, when you are forced—because let’s make that clear, there is nothing voluntary going on here—into those conditions, experiencing firsthand just how bad the conditions are for farming livestock, you get it. You experience the fear that makes your muscles tense up and become less than the buttery, fall off the bone, tenderness than people want. You experience the shitty (literally) living conditions, the force-feeding, the feeling of people stripping you of something that should only be given voluntarily by holding you down and sedating you. \n\nBut you don’t feel it, do you? You don’t understand. You are not locked up in a box every minute of every fucking day, staring at a blank wall as the tube shoved down your throat pumps more nutrient paste down your fucking throat to keep your muscles and skin strong and healthy. You don’t understand the mind-numbing repetition of farmers constantly buzzing around you to make sure you are in tip-top shape.\n\nBecause that’s what it all really boils down to, doesn’t it? They’re farming me for my organs, my skin, my muscles, and my bone marrow; basically anything they can get their hands on and sell to the highest bidder. It’s pretty sick, when you think about it, how desensitised to the fact that I am being sold bit by bit, but not too much, as I am worth more dead than alive.\n\nIt all really started when one day everyone’s cells just decided to take a little vacation. Sure, they kept us alive still, flushing us of the dead ones and replacing it with the healthier ones, but when you got a cut that was it. Forever marred by whatever injury you obtained.\n\nPeople didn’t really catch onto it until people started dying of easily treatable injuries. A woman in her 40s dies from a papercut gone septic; a teenager dies from drinking so much his liver cells refuse to cure the damage. All these senseless, easily fixed deaths popping up like clockwork across the globe because our cells refused to knit back the damage we did.\n\nCults freaked the fuck out, calling this some sort of sign from whatever doomsday gods they believed in to stop harming our bodies. Others took it as a sign of human extinction; our biological clock was done with us, so obviously we had to jump ship and off ourselves.\n\nThat’s when the panic and looting started. Hospitals were not tasked with healing anymore, as that shit was impossible to do now, but to try to avoid infection for as long as you could. Bigwigs everywhere freaked and stopped coming to work, workers went on strike because already unsafe conditions now spelt death out in flashing red letters.\n\nIt wasn’t long until the world called out for people who could still grow tissue, whether for farming or religious purposes was still unclear at the time. Well, unclear until the first person claiming to regenerate was found a week later, body twisted and mangled and littered with gashes and stabs with the words ‘liar’ painted across their back.\n\nAnd then I happened. Or more accurately, my brother decided it’d be funny to give me a papercut. Except, instead of dying it just scabbed over and replaced with new skin. Ready for his newfound fame and popularity, he shared this tidbit with his classmates, boasting proudly of his Wonder Sibling that could regenerate tissue at a pace even faster than that of old. \n\nIt wasn’t long before my mother was crying in the kitchen as they took me away; my father didn’t even look at me, he was too busy eyeing the cheque they cut out to him to cover any ‘damages’ they would incur after I left. Correction: was taken.\n\nI’ve been here ever since. For an exact amount of time, I can’t tell you; time blends together here, measured in the amount of times I watch the paste get pumped into my throat through the tube, the amount of times they tear skin off me, the amount of times they suck the bone marrow out of me. \n\nBut, I have to go now. It’s time for the harvest.\n\n(sorry for any typos / formatting errors! hope you liked it)" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471378203", "1471384215" ]
Write about either side i don't care which.	[WP] Adults have declared war on kids.	1	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "“I don’t want to hurt them, Jack,” I whispered from behind the bed. He was at the door, listening for little footsteps to fall in the hallway.\n\n\n“It’s them or us,” Jack whispered. “You made the oath, now you have to stick with it.” He emptied a glass of water and stuck it between his ear and the door, the way he taught our son to do it when he spied on our daughter. Jack taught our kids all of his tricks. I hope that wouldn’t come back to bite us.\n\n\nI picked up the pistol Jack laid on the bed for me. He bought it to protect our family after our house was broken into years ago. Now it’s to protect us from our family. \n\n\n“They’re still our kids, Jack,” I said. Jack leaned into the door. “Maybe we can talk to them. Tell them that we still love them. Maybe we can convince them to leave with us.”\n\n\nJack turned away from the door, setting the cup quietly on the dresser. \n\t\n\n“They killed your parents, Jess,” he said. “They shot your mom in the head with a kid sized arrow.” \n\n\n“I know,” I whispered.\n\n\n“They hog-tied your dad and threw him in his own lake, using his own boat and the very knots he taught them how to make. They’re not kids, they’re monsters.”\n\n\nI nodded and bit my lip. I knew what they did was wrong, but they were my babies. No matter what they did, no matter how horrible, I couldn’t be expected to hurt them. I’m their mother. \n\n\n“It’s us or them,” Jack said. “This whole war is us or them. And I’m not about to lose the only part of my family I have left. I love you.”\n\n\n“I love them,” I whispered. \n\n\nSilence hung heavy in the room until Jack lifted the cup off of the dresser. He held it up to the door and rested his ear on the other end.\n\n \n“Shit!” Jack jumped and dropped the glass. It shattered on the ground. “I heard laughing,” he said. He ran over to the bed and picked up the gun, aiming it towards the door. “Get behind me.”\n\n\nI heard the glass rolling on the floor. It sounded like it was behind me, near the closet. I turned around, hoping to stop the cup before it made too much sound and alerted the kids.\n\n\nThere, in the doorway of the closet, was the silhouette of a child. \n\t\n\n“I love you too, Mommy,” a soft voice whispered. \t“But it’s us or them.”\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471403125", "1471405010" ]
	[WP] Darrell was a normal everyday idiot until he was bitten by a ware-genius. Now every full moon, he turns into a genius and is trying to solve the world's problems one night a month at a time.	4,025	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Darrell booted up the special version of BitTorrent he had created, attached to the amazing new holographic storage device he had invented last full moon. Once his genius plan was complete, everyone would have access to whatever software they could possibly need, all for free and with completely secure anonymity! \n\nHe still didn't know why the previous ware-genius had never actually done anything about distributing warez, instead of going around biting people. ", "Darrel wasn't by any means a great man nor was he a good man. Killing zombies had numbed his emotions and everyone around him was too far gone.\n\nThats when it happened. There was a man dressed in a black shirt and wearing pearl white glasses that had to words Kojima and Productions written on each side.\nThe man in the black shirt lunged at Darrel who was none the wiser and bit him right in the stomach.\nDarrel felt his blood boiling, something was coming out of Darrels nose, it was a .. spacesuit? but why how? but then he knew what to do. \nHe legally changed his name to Ludens and flew to the moon with Kojima on his back whose glasses had turned into a rocket engine.\n\nDarrel is still there on the moon, working and slaving everymonth writing down ideas on how to cure the Zombie apocalypse named Metal Gear Survive in moon sand. For Kojima the true Were-Genius.. he followed the path to the dark side of the moon, never to be seen of hear from again.\n\n\n\nGuys i honestly dont know lol ", "I've been a weregenius for about 15 years now, so you'd think I've had a lot of experience. I come from a long line of successful weregeniuses (weregenii?), so both genetics and experience should say that I would be one of the most successful weregeniuses out there. I mean, my grandpapa converted Albert Einstein at age 3, along with Tesla and John P. Morgan and many more. I don't feel like listing off a bunch of names right now, so I'm not going to. I was the one to bite Bill Gates, even though it was an accident. But that's a story for another day. The thing is we weregeniuses try to bite people with the most potential. Of course, there have been one or two notable exceptions who didn't use their genius for the greater good of mankind at all, like, say, Al Capone. But for the most part, newly converted geniuses either instantly take advantage of their heightened brainpower and become extremely successful, or just fade into insignificance. \n\nNow, when I first saw Daniel, I knew he was the one. No, he was The One. With the perfect infusion of genius that I could provide, he would (hopefully) make a breakthrough in cell mutation research that would lead to the discovery of a cure for cancer. So, me being the helpful force to humanity that I am, I tracked him for a day, searching for the perfect time to strike. About 36 hours into my well-intended stalking, I spotted him walk outside his office, lugging a large trash bag. \n\nUnfortunately, it was around 10 pm and the only light nearby was behind him. His long, shaggy hair, swept to the side, broad shoulders, and baggy jacket were outlined by the light, but it did not reveal his face. I mean, who else in his office could look and dress exactly like him? As he threw his trash bag into the dumpster, I crept up behind him, restrained him, and dragged him back into the shadow. With a quick choke hold, he was unconscious on his back and ready for my attack. After a bite to the shoulder, he was ready to go. \n\nI rolled him over to an unpleasant shock: The potential genius I thought was Darrell was actually a strange man. But he seemed oddly familiar… I wracked my memory for any trace of him, only to become more horrified. This was the guy that ate hairy nachos from the trash when his coworkers dared him to! I suddenly felt the urge to vomit, and not just because of the smell I still remembered. Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, his phone rang with a brief notification. My hands shaking ever so slightly, I pulled it out of his pocket and instantly felt like killing myself, cure to cancer and all that be damned. I unlocked it and checked the text his boss had just sent him. \n\n“Darrell, you’re fired. Guess why?”\n\nPlay it dumb. “Why?”\n\n\n“I DON’T KNOW, DARRELL. WHO SENT 562 PICTURES OF MICHEAL CERA IN A BEANIE TO EVERY PRINTER IN OUR OFFICE? YOUR IMAGINARY SON, THIS TIME?”\n\n‘This time?’ Damn, how many time has this guy screwed up? Better cover his ass for him. “I dunno boss, but I know it wasn’t me.”\n\n“Yeah, right. Someone else with the same IP address as your computer, Darrell. Don’t bother to come tomorrow. I’m dumping your things outside the back door.”\n\nSure enough, the door opened and I heard a couple of heavy objects distinctly falling on the concrete parking lot. Horrified, I glanced at the idiot—what was his name? Darrell?—slowly coming around. What would this guy do with his newfound genius? Look for hairier nachos? Well, I just knew one thing for sure. I had just screwed up, big time.\n\n-ayyuslmaous\n\nRead my [TIFU] here\n", "It wasn’t until life began to present itself that my… inadequacies began to display themselves. I knew I wasn’t like the other kids growing up. At least that’s what I was told. That I was special. But deep down, I always knew it wasn’t in the good way, like, “you’re going to solve aids and bring the world into a golden dawn”. No, it was more like, “Darrell, it doesn’t matter what anybody tells you. You are a sweet, kind and loving boy. But you won’t be like your siblings. Jimmy and Sarah are just lucky because they get to do great things someday. That is why they are placed in the advanced program and you are not. But that does not make them any better than you are”. That’s the kind of thing my first grade teacher, Mrs. Garrett would tell me. Except, it did matter what people told me. I was the laughing stock of my entire grade, never able to come up with good enough comebacks which usually backfired on me anyway. I internalized it and felt guilty; I would often daydream in class about being someone who would be able to change the world and prove them all wrong. But deep down I knew I wasn’t one of the “lucky ones”. That didn’t stop me from becoming close with Jimmy and Sarah though. I never knew why they kept me around, and sometimes I had the strange feeling that I made them feel better about themselves. I was too stupid to figure it out anyway. Eventually, we grew up. Jimmy and Sarah ended up going to ivy league schools where they graduated magna cum laude. During this period, I got a job working at the local laundromat, occasionally pilfering lost change so I could afford buying small quantities of pot on top of my budget. Minimum wage wasn’t cutting it, so I saved enough money to start a small time operation and began selling on the side, making connects through the other rejects in my town who didn’t go to college because they couldn’t afford it, lacked ambition or were too stupid. At the time I wasn’t sure if it was because all the pot I was smoking, but things started to get pretty weird. After one night, we started getting reports in the local news channels and papers about people getting sent to the E.R. with bite marks. Most of the victims were killed, and the lucky one or two that survived simply had a few jarring scars to show for it. But no one would explain what happened. I thought nothing of it at the time, this wasn’t the first time I heard of crazy shit happening with people who took drugs like bath salts. Little did I know, it would happen again, exactly a month later, and I would be at the center of it. It would be when I was with a client who liked to be called Buddha. He arrived one day, asking for an ounce of my finest. As a personal tradition I have with my clients, I began to roll a joint, so he could sample the product.\n“I’ve grown to like you kid, so I’m here to help you out.”\nI was a bit confused, given the context of our relationship.\n“Yeah? And how’s that?” I asked, trying to sound tough, but genuinely curious.\n“You ever… you know… get tired of being shit on by life?”\nI scoffed at his question, somewhat nervously licking the paper, insulted by the brazen nature of his question.\n“You’re one to talk. At least I’m not a shut-in like you are.”\n“Hey man, I’m not saying this to be a prick. I’m saying this because I’ve come to offer you a solution.”\n“Okay. I’m going to tell you right now, if you’re trying to involve me in a pyramid scheme, or a cult, you’re wasting your time. Been there, done that and--”\n“I’m not here to waste your time. But as I said, I’ve come to offer you a solution. You have a good soul that is being put to waste. We have chosen you for something very special. A way out from your meaningless existence. Purpose. But only if you ask for it. Do it sincerely, and I will provide you that solution.”\nThe truth is, I would have never agreed to such a thing. I’ve been suckered for a fool my whole life, and I wasn’t about to let that happen again. But something about that moment changed me, perhaps it was the look in his eyes, the air, or hell, maybe my frustrations with life. I never could quite place it. But at that moment, I looked down and paused. Something took over and I stared squarely into his ashen eyes and with confidence said,\n“Yes.”\nHe lunged at me, and at that next second, all I could feel was piercing darkness. In that slight instant, I felt an exhilarating, overwhelming sharpness of mind, body and soul. The rest in history.\nI wish I could say in that moment I was changed forever, but I would only feel that special, all-knowing sensation of being one with the world one night a month. I would see the world with new eyes, and an intuitive understanding of what it means to be human, the cause and effect of everything I could see and think about. Jimmy and Sarah were the mental equivalent of toddlers during those short periods. One night a month, I did incredible things that baffled everyone around me. Ironically, sometimes I even worked with Jimmy who had become a chemist to identify precursors for AIDS that resulted in the creation of medicine to make it more manageable. I was published in scientific journals about theories and functions of metaphysics. I was awarded the title of a Nobel Laureate for the books I’ve written about postmodernism. As it turns out, I was chosen from an anonymous organization that transmits a certain bloodborne disease that allows an extremely heightened level of intelligence every full moon. No one really knows where it came from or started-- they claim it has roots as far back as the Greeks. And strangely enough, it only works on people who have a certain gene that inhibits their ability to learn as well as others. The rule within the organization is that this ability may only be used for the advancement of mankind. Einstein is one of the most better known carriers who has been allowed to expose his intelligence to the public for reasons necessary at the time. If one looks at his track record of failing even the most basic of classes in school, it is the only thing that makes sense. As it stands, my condition truly redefines what it means to be “gifted”, on multiple levels. I no longer consider myself to be “special” by any means, but I realize now that the sense of purpose I possess today is perhaps the most transformative and valuable part of this process. And now I think it is time to pay it forward.", "Darrel sat at his desk, tapping his foot impatiently. In the moments before, he always got nervous. Every month on the same night, fear and anxiety would always consume him and his thoughts would be consumed by one burning question: What if it doesn’t work this time?\n\nHe glanced at the clock. 7:44PM. Almost time. He glanced at his list and sighed .The list of problems was tremendously long, and it was getting increasingly random: draft a working peace treaty for Syria, get clean water to Sudan, figure out what was killing the nut trees in the Amazon, fix the California drought, solve the city’s infrastructure problem… \n\nHe lifted his blinds. Orange rays of a set sun poked their head out from behind the city’s skyline. Just a few more minutes now. He alternated tapping his pen and his feet as he watched the last rays of light disappear and give way to a glowing, silver full moon.\n\nDarrel immediately stopped his tapping. It’s expending anxious energy that would be better suited to drafting this peace treaty, Darrel thought to himself. Logic of this sort surged through his brain, a brain suddenly made brilliant by the heavenly silver sphere. And thus Darrel’s work began.\n\nHe was always an overachiever, though that usually amounted to eating one more burger or breaking the record for the most consecutive days asleep. But tonight, he wanted to hit every single problem on his list. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave very much time for any of them. He could spend three hours on his peace treaty, certainly the most important crisis. Maybe a couple of hours on the clean water issue, and he could possibly apply some of that knowledge to the drought as well. The city infrastructure issues - of which there were dozens - could only get about twenty minutes each. \n\nDown the list he went, one at a time, his pen unable to keep up with the onslaught of breakthroughs occurring with his brain. And as the night wore on, Darrel’s notebooks filled - one for each issue - filled and filled. But only so much time existed, and these issues were too big for even the world’s greatest genius to solve in one night. \n\nWhy didn’t Darrel ever think to just focus on one problem at a time? Surely that type of methodology was more conducive to these massive, multi-day undertakings. Perhaps his condition was flawed so that his need for cramming and lists didn’t fade out as his genius faded in. So at the end of the night, as the sun rose and the moon dipped beneath the clouds, Darrel was only incrementally closer to solving every issue. \n\nMaybe I need to be bitten by another Were-Genius meant for other types of moons he wondered, staring at the list which had nothing crossed off. It was discouraging, but there was nothing Darrel could do about it. Dawn had come, and he was a bumbling oaf again. He would just bide his time for the next twenty-eight days and then get right back to work. And one day, years form now, he would shock the world by presenting a fully completed list of every conceivable global crisis - all simultaneously solved by him.", "Chapter 1- The Professor\n\nProfessor Bourbaki was puzzled. In of itself, this was nothing new. Being a research mathematician got you used to a puzzle or two. What was new was the doubt. Doubt that they wanted to find the answer to “who is doing this”?\n\nWho would break into the department in the middle of the night, only to cover the the boards with solutions Bourbaki never asked for. The professor felt they should be thankful, but instead felt only doubt. Every time it happened, it took nearly a month to decipher. The first time it was almost erased. Nearly dismissed as a hoax before the first and last lines were noticed to be the statement and solution to a problem a hundred years old. Every time it happened, it took nearly a month to decipher. It was always a major advancement, using completely new techniques professor Bourbaki would never have thought of. The research fairy never mad mistakes or repeated themselves, though often referenced what they wrote in previous visits. Jackie Bourbaki doubted they could have come up with it themself.\n\nJackie Bourbaki, Ph.D MIT summa cum laude, stared at the three inch stack of compiled notes on their desk. Not one sheet was original material. Not one line was work Jackie would write on their own. Not one symbol uninspired.\n\n“But no research is original!Newton admitted he was only standing on the shoulders of giants!” They thought in a moment of determination. “ I've collected it! I've decrypted it! I've spent my life devoted to these mysteries, only to have the answers laid out before I had the time!” But the shouts were hollow in their head.\n\nThe doubt had returned. Leibniz was called a fraud when accused of standing on Newton's great shoulders. Jackie was at the end of their research career, and they knew it. They might publish a paper dotting an inverted i or crossing a functional t, but there was no Fields Medal at the end of it.\n\n“But what should I do with this stack?” Jackie called to their office walls, “ The more it grows, the heavier the weight. Will this graffitier of knowledge keep coming? Should I simply clear the boards, or continue stacking this tower until it topples, crushing me beneath? Would it be more noble to publish? An engineer in 30 years might save humanity with this knowledge... Or destroy it.”\n\nThe words bounced off the office walls. Finding no answers, only doubt.", "Darrell's laboratory/workshop stood unused most of the time. He'd found through trial and error that if he went in there when in his normal state, he'd invariably end up breaking something.\n\nNot tonight, though. Tonight was a full moon. And when the moon was full, Darrell's mind expanded. He could see everything, think everything, do anything, it seemed, and when the sun came up and he returned to his normal state, he was always amazed at the wonders the genius form of him had produced.\n\nHe stood over his workbench, screwdriver in hand, welder's mask and soldering iron to one side, a hammer and a pile of metal parts to the other. His latest project was coming together quite beautifully. Gyroscopic joint stabilization, smart environmental processing, algorithmic object detection—this thing had it all. This was going to revolutionize everything.\n\nAt last, after many hours, his invention was complete, just as a hint of red began to tint the sky. He looked out the window and dabbed a bead of sweat from his brow. It wouldn't be long before he could test it. In the meantime, his long night of work had left him exhausted, and he dropped into his comfortable armchair to rest.\n\nWhen he awoke, all was back to normal. He could no longer recognize any but the simplest of his tools, and he couldn't tell how his invention worked anymore. Never mind; he'd tested it earlier, so he knew that it did. Time to try it, for real this time.\n\nExcited, he carried it to his car and set it on the dashboard. After a brief hunt, he finally found the power button and switched it on. Excited, he watched as it whirred to life and waited to see what it would do.\n\nWith surgical precision, it extended an arm to his sound system, removed the CD, and replaced it with another one from his collection.\n\n\"EUREKA!\" he shouted.", "Darrell sat at his computer chair, his hand throbbing like a son of a bitch where that weirdo had bitten him. And then that creep had stuffed a piece of paper into Darrell's pocket, before running away. What the hell was that about? It made no sense, and Darrell couldn't figure out what the heck it all meant. Maybe that stupid piece of paper had a clue...\n\n\nDarrell could hardly read at all. Still, he took out the paper and laid it as flat as he could on the computer desk. This time, the big and normally indecipherable words resolved themselves into units of meaning, astonishing and delighting Darrell. He gasped as he read and comprehended words that previously had only been ugly jumbles of letters. The note explained what had happened to Darrell, and what the consequences of it were. It explained the moon, the high intelligence, the whole nine yards. Or 8.223 meters, thought Darrell. \n\n\nWhat was that? He checked on google. 8.223 meters was correct.\n\n\nWow.\n\n\nWhat else could he understand now?\n\n\nHe looked at the news on google. He could understand everything. The words came easily, the concepts were childish, puerile really, easily understood and assimilated. But to his horror, he couldn't stop. \n\n\nTwo boys had been strangled in Texas, mutilated and then burned alive. \n\n\nRape was at an all time high in Florida, and his newfound understanding meant the implications of that filled him with searing anguish. \n\n\nA junkie mom in New York had killed her eldest child, a seven year old girl, when she had tried to protect her younger brothers from being pimped by their mother. She had stuffed the tiny body of her malnourished child into a suitcase and left it on the roof of the crack house in which she lived, where it rotted for weeks as her brothers were literally abused to death.\n\n\nIn Boston a man had killed his neighbor with a crowbar in an argument over a football game.\n\n\nSeven gang members had been killed in LA as part of an escalating gang feud. The tongues of the dead had been removed and nailed to the door of the nearest precinct house.\n\n\nOn and on it went. As fast as he could read (which was very fast indeed), the computer churned out horror stories of every type. Darrell wanted to scream, he wanted to escape, he wanted this to be a dream from which he could wake. He understood how the gang members felt, the fear of the children, the violation of the rape victims. He understood it all, to the very depth of his being. It felt as if each evil, each crime, each agony was being indelibly tattooed into his bones. But he knew he could make it stop. He knew he could end it.\n\n\nSo he did. \n\n\nIt took him only 45 minutes to create a single use hyper-pistol. \n\nAnd just another 5 seconds to splash his brains all over his computer screen.\n\n\nEdit: paragraphs > wall of text", "Darrell had been working himself up on the drive over, his brain reaching a satisfying simmering like a pink poached egg. \nRighteous anger has ways of sneaking into the best of people but with Darrell once it was in it couldn't break out of his thick skull if it tried. Right now it was scratching tallies to mark the days. \n\nHis dear old nan - bless her heart - had graciously rented out her home to the smarty pants that had decided to attend more school. Darrell didn't really understand why they would do this, but he did understand that most were strapped for cash and his sweet nan undercut the local rent average by 200 dollars. \nAnd he liked most of em'. They were bright kids what knew to treat his nan with respec', and if they didn't they knew Darrel would make sure they got a dorm at the university with the help of disability priorities.\n\nBut one tenant wasn't a student. He was a tenured professor of biology who made a paycheck that said he shouldn't be livin' for cheap in some old lady's basement, and it DEFINITELY said he should be paying his fuckin' rent. \nAnd Goddam basic human decency said there shouldn't be strange smells and loud moaning noises disturbing the student's studies - and far worse disturbing his dear old nan. She didn't have the disposition to kick people out. But Darrell was a bouncer, and had a disposition that thoroughly enjoyed when people pulled knives or bottles on it because that usually meant the owner would give a little extra bonus for the trouble.\n\nThe stench hit him before he even reached the door. There was a soft ticking noise in his mind as righteous anger turned up the dial. The egg boiled. \nHe didn't bother knocking, just shoved the key in and shouldered his way in. A pile of strange crap on the floor was pushed aside in the doors wake. The whole room was covered in garbage. Darrell thought he saw something move in the corner. \nThe water in his brainpan turned to steam, now whistling a hasty exit out each ear. His mind was a small black stain. \n\n\"ALRIGHT YOU PIECE OF -IT (Darrell's subconscious would automatically censor him if it thought his nan was in earshot, which in this case currently covered most of the neighborhood) I'M GUNNA COUNT TO TEN, AND BY THEN YOU'RE GUNNA GIVE ME ONE EFFIN CHEQUE FOR ALL THE RENT YOU MISSED AND ONE EFFIN CHEQUE THE DANG CLEANERS.\n\nHe lowered his voice a few decibels. Not because he calmed down, but because a hissed whisper could be far worse than shouting at times. \n\n\"You gotta month, one fuckin' month to clear out before I punch you into pâté and feed it to my fuckin' dog. Understand?\"\n\nThere was more movement in the corner. A human - at least he assumed the emaciated thing was human - unearthed itself from piles of filth. Pieces showered out of a mop of hair and beard that obscured the face. \n\"I-i-it's ready, I've finally done it.\" the thing muttered. \n\"I-I tried to create an artificial woman to i-i-increase ef-efficiency, a-a-and pass on my genes, but it failed me. I h-had to try something else.\" \n\nDarrell followed the gaze of the professor. A harder look in the dim light revealed a body among the waste. Multiple legs curled upwards and down towards the stomach, like a giant fleshy spider set in rigor mortis. \nThis man had been living not 20 feet from his nan. \nThe rage passed beyond hot anger. It was now cold, a sub-zero chill working its way into every nerve in his body as it crawled up his spine. \n\"I'm. Calling. Police. Don't move.\"\n\nThe professor clutched his beard, spasming. He gave a shrill whine \"I'm so very sick... but you... you'll pass on my legacy. You'll accept my gift.\" \n\nMost would've assumed that the professors skeletal frame couldn't have propelled itself that fast across the room in a single lunge. But Darrell had learned that lesson a long time ago and was ready for it. His fist arced out like lightning, gleefully running the shortest path to the face. There was a resounding CRACK of shattered bone to act the thunder. \nThe prof's body folded in on itself, then slumped to the ground. Darrell looked at the blood pouring out of his knuckles, crawling down his arm. They were sliced open - cut by hitting teeth. A wave of nausea swept through him. Darrell knew that he wouldn't have to check the pulse.\n\"Christ... I'll need to get bloody shots.\"\n\n\"I saw everything.\" \n\nHe whirled around so fast he almost fell over. He managed a chocked gurgle before the girl in the doorway continued. One of the students. Cassandra - something. \n\n\"I saw him attack you, with a weapon too.\" Darrell looked down and noticed the empty syringe clutched in the professors hand. Another wave of nausea.\n\"Don't worry, he didn't get you. I think whatever was in that was for himself.\" \nShe wrinkled her nose. \"I'll testify for you. It was self-defense, and once they figure out whatever the fuck he was doing in here I bet the cops will shake your hand.\" \n\nAn awkward, bony hand was placed on his heaving shoulders. Darrell realized he was breathing hard, and tried to calm down. \n\n\"Come on, I'll call the police and bandage you up. I'm studying pre-med. Mrs Applewood will probably make our favorite tea.\"\n\nDarrell nodded. He liked it when other people did the thinking for him, and he needed that now more than usual. He followed her up the stairs. \n\n ......................\n\nThe trial ended in no time. Cassandras eye witness testimony in addition to character statements by staff and students had helped, but it was the corpse that sealed the deal. The professor had been stealing priceless cloning equipment from the university then covering it up. Viable cloning was still a recent invention reserved for making compatible, healthy organs for people who needed them. The professor had made - if only briefly - a living organism. She could only hope to herself that it wasn't sentient. \n\nBeing told where he had gotten the DNA was enough to cause her and the other tenants to consider moving out. But shit, an extra 200 dollars a month was an extra 200 dollars, and it was all over now anyway. \nPlus there was one other important reason.... \n\nDarrell had shown up one night, laughing. He kissed Mrs. Applewood hard on the cheek, and them stomped over to her and picked her up by the waist. Once the room stopped spinning, she looked at an expression Mrs. Applewood's face that told her this was not her grandsons usual conduct. \nOnce initial annoyance subsided, she begrudgingly took a moment to consider that not many of the boys in pre-med could spin her like that, and the ones that could didn't really bother with her. \nShe had written Darrell off as some dumb ugly goon before the incident (then he graduated to heroic ugly goon in her eyes), but something was especially different about him tonight. \nHe smothered her hands in calloused mitts and fell to one knee, so his blocky head was just about shoulder level. \n \n\"Please, please, Cassandra, you have to let me read your textbooks. All of them. I've got something to share that's going to make both of us famous.\" \n\nCrap. She didn't want to sound obnoxious, but they were probably more useful to Darrell as a blunt instrument than reading material. After he tried she'd put him down softly - it was advanced material after all. \n\n\"Alright, alright. I'll go grab them for you.\" she smiled. \n\nAnd then he flipped through them like they were picture books. She had thought he was making a lame prank, but he repeated sentences and formulas verbatim. It was like talking to a living computer. It was fantastic, and slightly disturbing. \n\n\"Darrell, what the hell happened to you? This.... this is unprecedented.\" \n\n\"I know.. And it only happens during the full moon. But I don't need to know how or why, I just need to know the best ways I can use it.\"\n\nHe grabbed a pencil and some notebook paper. \n\n\"Cassandra, those medical books were the very latest? Well, I figure I can make some improvements here and there. And I want to show you, and I want your help. So when I'm back to being as thick as a brick, someone can advance and explore the work until the next full moon. If it even keeps lasting, hopefully.\" \n\nThey spent the entire night together. And many, many more nights after. ", "His fingers skimmed over the spines of the books on the library's shelf. A shelf containing books on early philosophy, modern physics, and various other various mathematics and robotics manuals. His library was quaint, but adequate. He wasn't the smartest man in the world everyday, in fact no day at all. He was a were-genious. The result of cross-breeding the intelligence of man and the prey drive of a wolf. \n\nEvery month, on the night of the fullest full moon, Darrell goes through a metamorphosis to form into this strangely subtle, but wolf-like creature. In the strangest of cases, Darrell's perfect 20/20 vision actually diminishes and glasses form through his skull. It's quite the process. \n\nIn this state of vigor, Darrell can only pick up the first intellectually stimulating material near-by and start consuming it's contents one idea at a time. Darrell lives for these moments, although any knowledge obtained will be lost upon reversal. Thankfully enough, Darrell always knew that he would retain this knowledge upon next 'awakening.' Tonight Darrell had his mind set on biological engineering. \"It's time to strike down world hunger, baby,\" Darrell thought to himself as he felt his vision slowly start to fade...", "\"Ah-ha! Derrell, today is the day!\"\n\nThe first waking second of my day came as an epiphany, as second Tuesdays always do. My dreams sleepily amalgamate into ideas and ideas coalesce into actionable reality as I am finally on the 5th mensiversary of my infection capable of achieving... Well, anything really. For I am a were-genius, once a month my brilliance eclipses the planet as the course of humanity is laid before me.\n\nLast month I permanently lost my eyebrows when my epiphany decamped into belated festivities as the clock struck twelve. The anniversary before that, the pigmentation of my skin, I don't even know how I thought \n\nToday was going to be different though, no mad scientist \n\n- - -Sorry but I lost motivation and I took sleep meds 2 hours ago and I'm dying. I was going to make him decide that the smartest thing he could do for mankind was file his teeth to ensure further infections, and infect as many people as possible, thus turning him into Derrell the ware-genius idiot vampire. Let me know what you thought of what I had though, literally have never written a story of any kind before. At least since 5th grade.", "\"Except this night. This night, he's not going to help a third world country figure out its hunger problems or the CIA track down the mass murderer who's been on the run for the last decade. And he'll be damned if he's helping Bon Jovi again. So what's he going to do this night? This night he's going to do something special. Figure out why teenage girls like boy bands and maybe, just maybe he'll be able to understand his 16yr old (hopefully still a virgin) daughter and in return she might just acknowledge his existence, maybe. \"", "He could always tell it was that time of the month when the poster on the wall begin to mean something. First he noticed there was a poster. Then he noticed the poster had an image of a cat , as well as shapes and colors on it. Then the shapes and colors turned into ... letters. And then words.\n\nEvery month it was a bit different, sometimes it took his Super Genius brain longer to figure out how to read than others. But he always did figure it out.\n\nThis month and it happened suddenly, almost jarring as a world of information opened up to him in what seemed to be a matter of moments. But his genius brain compensated just as quickly as it had figured it out how to read, and the moment of vertigo quickly passed.\n\nHe still recalled why he'd chosen the cat poster. Believe, it said. This simple word threw him into what he recalled now was his recurring existential crisis about the blessing, or was it a curse, it had been laid upon him.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "The moon crawled up from out of the clouds and shined down through darryls window as he finished pulling up the silly putty off the picture of a naked women's tits. His disappointment was lifted as the full moon light entered his eyes and awoke his supersubconcious. They switched places at the drivers seat of his brain. \n\nHe shook his head once and shouted. \n\n\"Hoooooooly fuuuuuiick!!!!\"\"\n\n\nHis hand dove into his desk and emerged with a pen as his other hand produced a notebook and he began to write equations and chemical compounds. He furiously wrote down everything inside his brain that his body could accomplish. He wrote notes in Latin and binary as the notebook filled and spilled into another book. \n\nAs the moon fell below the horizon and the sun started its climb Darryl passed out from exhaustion. \n\nWhen he awoke he found his notebooks stacked neatly on his desk next to a letter addressed to himself. He opened the letter and began to read it.\n\n\"Dear Darryl, ever since the accident we have shared this vessel with you in search of a single truth based solely out of your own personal desires and last night marks the culmination of three years work as we have gathered and planned and tonight we finally put together all scientific details needed to accomplish this deed. Present all this research and data to Dr. Marvin Dean at the university. \n\nYou should be proud of yourself Darryl, you just cured cancer.\" ", "The morning after, I almost always spent it resting. I never quite remember what it was that I did, but I usually left instructions for myself after being up all night. Usually I spent three weeks cataloging the work in one night and it was always an impressive list of topics that i undertook that one night a month when I turned into Mr Brain.\n\nI had a whole staff of suits helping me and some very pretty secretaries that were obliging in ways that would make a whore blush. In all, life was easy, with the only stipulations Mr Brain had to Mr Pinky was to have a healthy diet (easy with a personal chef/nutritionist), lots of exercise, (even easier with lots of pretty secretaries), plenty of rest and no getting high. Mr Brain had arranged my well-being in every way imaginable. \n\nDark desires, Check. Curious Fetishes, Check. Freedom, No quite. But who needs it when there is good food, great wine and outstanding women around. \n\nTime was a pleasant blur of minimal paperwork, multi-ethnic buffets of food and women. Then wheels start rolling as the next full moon approached. An hour before Mr Brain comes online, I'm being escorted into my conference room where strange men and women would listen to whatever it was that Mr Brain would talk about as I faded in the backdrop. Pinky fades away as Brain starts to take the oath of office of the President of Earth.\n\n\n", "\"This is the total amount of purifiers it takes to completely clean the atmosphere...\" Darrell wrote 40,000 in the corner of a chalkboard already filled with scientific jargon and math. \"And, with the knowledge that the United Nations will pay 122,000 dollars per purifier...\" Darrell continued to write. \"This is the total income that you generate completely reversing global warming.\" The room was silent for a moment. Darrell turned to the group of scientists and investors.\n\"4,880,000,000 dollars?\" Mark Cuban pointed his pen to the number circled on Darrell's chalkboard.\n\"Minus manufacturing of course,\" Darrell replied, seemingly disinterested. Silence followed for another moment until a resounding orchestra of claps began to fill the room. Darrell sighed and held back a sarcastic roll of the eyes as he picked up his glass of scotch and took a sip. Darrell had been working with a team of independent scientists backed by grossly wealthy investors to find solutions to the biggest problems facing mankind ever since they discovered him through a YouTube video that went viral. Having been the star of a reality television show, Darrell already been in the spotlight when he decided to quit on the set of Getting to Know the DeLopians during a live New Year's Eve special citing the show being devoid of any real mental stimulation in favor of \"jam packing it with dumb-fuck nonsense.\" This made headlines and led to a string of television and radio interviews on what exactly prompted Darrell's sudden change in tone.\n\"I dunno,\" Darrell would say, \"the last thing I remember was getting freaky with some big-tittied broad,\" Darrell motioned towards his chest, imitating a woman holding her large breasts, \"the next thing I knew I was yelling into the camera...\" Darrell paused. \"What did I say to the camera?\"\n\"Oh, I can't repeat it here.\"\n\"Well, I can't remember it.\" Darrell paused again. \"Do you think I can go back to the set on Monday?\"\n\"Darrell I don't think you can, don't you remember what your producer said to you? Live, on air?\"\n\"What he say?\"\n\"He said, and I quote, 'Walk off my set and never come back you insolent little'... well, I can't, I can't repeat the next part but that's the gist of it.\"\n\"Oh. Damn.\"\nThis is the way most the interviews would go and, getting wind of one of Hollywood's most prominent faces now out of a job, the Brasch Institute hatched a plan to destroy their looming overhead by rebuilding a star's career. Getting to Know Darrell DeLopian was the name of the show. It would be branded as a reality show looking into the life of television star turned scientist, Darrell DeLopian. In actuality, it was planned to be highly scripted and read as an underdog story akin to the Karate Kid but with math and science as opposed to justice and violence. The pilot would showcase Darrell trying and struggling to solve the the most basic of math problems, frustrating the scientists at first before they eventually come together to tell Darrell something along the lines of \"Never give up, we've got a long road of ahead of us buddy, but we'll make it. I swear.\" Jim places hand on Darrell's shoulder, Music cue, fade out, roll credits, sign for a multi-season deal and pocket the cash. The very concept of the show seemed to throw F Entertainment's CEO and investors into a primal heat who, already having the rights to the DeLopian likeness, practically fully backed and signed the show for five seasons not ten minutes into the Brasch Institute's pitch. Things went largely as expected, Darrell had attributed his outburst and his lack of memory of it to his excessive drinking on New Year's Eve and played along, reading scripts, farting on camera, making money the way he always had. The turn of events was strange yet intensely intriguing to the public and their appetite for Darrell related content was insatiable but nobody was prepared for what would happen next. One night, on the set of his television show, Darrell was being filmed attempting to move a stick of butter from the opposite end of a table to the one where he was trying to eat his toast. Darrell could not seem to understand the fact that as soon as he grasped the solid butter in his palm, his body heat would cause the stick to slide from his hand and back onto the table. Darrell would pick up and then drop the butter several times before stopping and straightening his back. Darrell closed his eyes, took one deep breath, mouthed \"fuck this,\" then walked from the kitchen into a room of spare parts. The camera operators looked at each other and signaled the production crew to follow them behind Darrell. However, before the boom operators and lighting technicians could even round up their equipment, Darrell had reemerged from the room with a small robot whom he placed beside the butter. Darrell then walked over to his plate of toast, sat down, and said \"Pass the butter.\" The robot gripped the butter and moved to Darrell using a tread system. The robot placed the butter next to Darrell's plate.\n\"Thank you,\" Darrell took a chunk of butter with his knife and spread it along his toast. Having solved the problem of not having buttered toast, Darrell stared off and began to think.\n\"What is my purpose?\" The robot looked up at Darrell, interrupting his thought process.\n\"Oh, uh, you pass butter.\"\nThe robot looked down at it's own hands. \"Oh my god.\"\nEveryone was quiet for a moment, the production staff in just as much shock as the robot.\n\"You pass butter...\" Darrell began to chuckle, \"you pass butter!\" He shrugged, still chuckling, and gestured with his hands towards the ceiling. \"YOU PASS FUCKING BUTTER!\" Darrell could feel his scream shredding the back of his throat as he smashed the robot with one fist and the table with the other. Blood moved down Darrell's hands as he slowly brought them to his face. A drop of blood fell to the table. Darrell turned to the staff.\n\"Don't you fucking get it?\" Darrell stared into each of their eyes for an equal amount of time. \"We pass butter.\"\nThe staff looked confused.\n\"We all just pass butter.\"\nNo one said a word.\nThis was the night Darrell solved money. Disillusioned with the thought of the human race performing menial tasks for a sense of purpose in life, Darrell collected all the data he could on the economics of every country in the world and drew up a comprehensive universal basic income plan for each individual country that would not only ensure every human being on planet Earth could afford the cost of living, but would also, in more cases than not, require less government funding than current welfare programs. He would go on to present this live on national television and, garnering nearly worldwide support, Darrell's idea was presented and accepted by most of the world's governing bodies as the \"ideal step forward for humanity.\" Society grew into a place where those who wanted more money had the ability to get it very easily as the global job market became monumentally less saturated and those who were content were, well, just that. Content. Survival as a driving force for daily life became a relic of a past era as people greeted their neighbors with smiles and helped others fill their needs and wants for the joy of it, rather than the hope of getting something in return. After this first night, Darrell seemingly disappeared, quitting his job to go on a month-long binge of strippers and coke with the money he had been awarded by the United Nations for his efforts. However, this would not last. One night Darrell, three lines and two strip clubs in, stopped to think. Darrell thought and he thought and he could feel his brain working on so many levels with so many ideas he wanted to put into practice that he found it hard to contain himself. Darrell burst out of the strip club, hailed a cab, and directed it to the Brasch Institute. On this night, Darrell formulated the ideas that would solve the energy crisis, food shortages, and achieve world peace. Things went on like this for quite a while, with Darrell spawning and putting into practice the greatest ideas ever known to human-kind then slinking away with the reward money to fund the greatest vices known to human-kind. Tonight was the fifth night of Darrell's ideas which now took place in front of a team of independent scientists backed by grossly wealthy investors.\n\"This is the total amount of purifiers it takes to completely clean the atmosphere...\" Darrell wrote 40,000 in the corner of a chalkboard already filled with scientific jargon and math. \"And, with the knowledge that the United Nations will pay 122,000 dollars per purifier...\" Darrell continued to write. \"This is the total income that you generate completely reversing global warming.\" The room was silent for a moment. Darrell turned to the group of scientists and investors.\n\"4,880,000,000 dollars?\" Mark Cuban pointed his pen to the number circled on Darrell's chalkboard.\n\"Minus manufacturing of course,\" Darrell replied, seemingly disinterested. Silence followed for another moment until a resounding orchestra of claps began to fill the room. Darrell sighed and held back a sarcastic roll of the eyes as he picked up his glass of scotch and took a sip.\n\nNote:\nHey everyone! This is my first post here, I hope you enjoyed it! I have more ideas for this one but not a huge character count left but I could continue this over on /r/WrightingPiper if anyone's interested! Lemme know what you think! Thanks!", "\"How do you do what you do?\" A giddy reporter exclaimed, visibly in shock she had found the smartest man in the world. \"Does the traveling help?\"\n\n\"Well let's just say that it's important to not fall behind and to not get too far ahead. It's important to be where the magic is at the right time. It's a balance.\" Todd said as he walked back to his government quality lab on wheels. \"And I don't want to be late.\"\n\nHe reporter swooned, clearly arouses by such an incredibly display of intelligence. With that, Todd sped off into the setting moon. For a little while at least. ", "Despite the grandeur of his genius, The Riemann Hypothesis remained elusive for the first three months. His breakthrough came nearly at the beginning of the fourth night, surprisingly early in what was normally a four-hour long marathon of thought. \n\nIn a seemingly scripted flash of insight, the tangled lines of reason bolstering the 157 year-old conjecture straightened to form a beautifully intricate web of understanding, geometric in its perfection. Darrell was moved to tears as the zeroes of the zeta function materialized on the critical line, visualized in the chipped white center beam of his window pane. A similarly cinematic moment, though genuine nonetheless. \n\nWith an incalculable satisfaction he left his desk, and poured a fresh cup of coffee, high off the transcendental gravity of this achievement, and smug in the way mathematicians are, recalling friends and colleagues arguing with him to focus on the more practical matters. Yet the gloating and vanity did not last, these quickly subsumed by wonder as he gazed out the window, fingers warmed by the steaming mug. Intelligibility... this was the reason for it all. Yes, this tangling with the universe, solving the puzzles as surely as His omnipotence would - this was his happiness. ", "\"Why?! Why must you do this?!\" Darrell shouted to no one in particular. \"I could unravel the mysteries of the cosmos, but for your meddling!\"\n\nBefore him stood the still-smoldering remains of his clothes, which had been stuffed into a bucket and set aflame prior to his transformation. A crudely scrawled note lay before the bucket that read \"LOL ur naked!\". The \"k\" in \"naked\" was actually backward. \n\nDarrell had learned quickly that, while he retained no memory of what transpired with the original Darrell between the full moons, the buffoon that was his alter ego seemed to be cognizant of all things despite being subverted during those phases. Rather than facilitating the research and ideas that flushed his mind during these periods, that fool chose instead to bully his intellectually superior self at every opportunity. At least this time he had not changed only to find himself crammed into a random locker at the local high school...how he had even locked himself inside baffled him despite his genius IQ.\n\n\"Yes, I am naked. Har har.\" Darrell grumbled as he calmed down and took stock of his surroundings. \"But where am I naked?\" It was clearly a public restroom of some kind. Likely a gas station based on the squalid state of the facility. Grimly, he noted that the remainder of the paper towels had been used as tinder for his clothes, so there was no hope of using them as covering. \n\nWith a heavy sigh, he tentatively opened the door only to be greeted by the sight of a police officer walking toward him across the parking lot toward him.\n\n\"Hey! You! Is that smoke?\" The officer barked.\n\n\"Sadly, it is. I'm afraid my clothes have been burned, officer.\" Darrell replied while hiding his full nudity behind the half-open door.\n\n\"Are you on drugs, son?\" The officer asked after peering behind him and confirming that Darrell was alone in the restroom.\n\n\"No, sir. My situation is...complicated. I'm afraid I have what you could call a mental condition.\" Or at least part of me does Darrell thought.\n\n\"So you're naked because you started a fire in a public restroom with your clothes?\" The officer's eyes narrowed as he reached for his handcuffs.\n\n\"....yes.\" Darrell admitted with resignation. His theories on faster-than-light travel would have to wait for another night, it seemed.\n\n", "One night a month just isn't enough.\n\nDarrell knew on these nights something changed, he could feel it come upon him. He would start the day in his normal routine, except the static was at a minimum. And as the day went on the static faded until dusk. At dusk, his mind would clear; and his work would begin. \n\nYears of research locked away in the basement his ignorant self had been locked out of for years, decades actually. The solution was simple, a Chinese puzzle box his father had brought home from the war with the only copy for the basement key inside. \n\nDarrells simple mind was unable to figure out the puzzles secret, but he wasn't feeble enough to smash a cherished family heirloom. He may be dumb but he sure learned his lessons the hard way from his father, lessons that would stick in his mind where common sense always seemed to lack. \n\nOver the years the puzzle had become second nature. 20 seconds Darrell was in, 45 seconds and the fluorescents of his basement workshop were buzzing and popping as he made his way slowly down the stairs. His age had caught up to him, but on these fateful nights, his mind was as sharp as ever. \n\nHis workshop was quite impressive for a man who didn't have a high school diploma. The odd jobs his counterpart performed every other day of the year wasn't much, but through the years on nights like these, Darrell would take all the money he had stuffed under his bed, in the sock drawer, in his pants pockets, and in the couch cushions and go shopping. He'd set himself up with enough groceries and supplies for the month, then stash the remainder in the desk drawer of his basement sanctuary. Over time that money paid for the Chem lab set, the computer and Internet service, the stacks upon stacks of texts and lab equipment. \n\nYears have been dedicated to his continuous search for knowledge, and those years had been productive. So much knowledge was saved to the hard drives in his computer office, enough external drives were filled with data to start his own library. \n\nFinally, all that he had worked for, all that he had accumulated over the years would be revealed to the world, and the next step of technological advancement could be achieved. \n\nThe years had been good. But the time just wasn't enough.\n\nThroughout the years Darrell had witnessed terrible travesties, disease, war, famine, all things he had answers for. Stored right in the basement of his suburban home outside of Indianapolis. \n\nDarrell's biggest problem was getting his information to the right people in his limited time, and being able to explain his theorems to the correct communities. He had resorted to long hours of rigorous lectures, recorded in the basement, using an old black board and chalk to explain his concepts and theorems. All he planned to show to the world sometime soon. \n\nNavigating the stairs had become quite the chore in his old age. His joints weren't what they used to be and his back had all but given out. Darrell knew that this was likely his last trip downstairs, he could only hope that he'd die down here, with his intelligence still in check until the very end. \n\nIf it weren't for his sister, Darrells simpler self would not have made it this far through the illness. Her daily visits and weekly trips to the treatment center proved to be the only reason he was able to continue his work in the last year and a half. \n\nDarrell had the cure too, which was the worst part about his condition. He had the chemical components to heal himself, but not the ability to do so. \n\nOnce therapy started he shaved his head. The first night his mind was free Darrell started preparing for the end. \n\nAll he had accumulated over the years was alphabetized neatly in rows on shelves in the basement, and categorized alphabetically on his hard drives. \n\nBut the most crucial data he had been working on for four decades was still unfinished. \n\nAnd on this night it would not be finished. \nOne night a month just isn't enough. \n ", "i like to walk about \nsometimes i do at nite \nbut once there was a small man \nwho come gave me a bite \ni not know why he did this? \ndont know why he not friend??? \ni think sometimes that bite can change me... \nHowever, it's troublesome to pinpoint when.", "[WP] Darrell was a normal everyday idiot until he was bitten by a ware-genius. Now every full moon, he turns into a genius and is trying to solve the world's problems one night a month at a time.\n\n>Two months ago, Darrell was the typical nerd you would come across at a comic book store. He'd quote memes that he saw off the internet on his favorite website, reddit, admitting how it was twice as awesome because he'd used them in real life. Two months ago, he would have never imagined just how real life could be and all thanks to one idiotic decision that led to a whole slew of amazing events. \n\nDarrell stopped typing. He was breathing heavily. \n\nNo, he thought. This wouldn't do.\n\nHe deleted his draft and tried again. \n\nShe's still out there. Somewhere. I have to try.\n\n> Darrell wasn't always the brightest bulb in the box, but he never did back down from a challenge either. Always being labelled as the class idiot, he was always desperately trying to prove himself\n\nNo, scrap that, Darrell thought again, crunching his fist over the stress relief ball that had been strategically laid beside him. \n\n\"What's going on!\" he cried. \"It's not fucking flowing anymore!!!\"\n\nHe deleted the entire paragraph and resumed typing.\n\n> Darrell was your typical college kid who joined a party one day. Which was unusual because he was usually timid, meek and afraid. Nobody ~~liked~~ ~~really liked him because he was always spouting memes at inappropriate moments causing many cringe worthy moments among his peers.~~ paid any attention to him at the party except for Jessica, \n\nHe paused, collecting his thoughts. Though he was tucked away in the basement of his home, he could hear the sound of a dog barking. \n\nChrist! It's 3AM already, he thought. He vaguely remembered posting the prompt on his alt five hours ago. \n\n\"What's wrong with you, Darrell?\" he said, \"You used to be able to finish a thesis in 30 minutes.\"\n\n\"Think. Think. Think. Think. THINK!\" he said, slapping his palm to his head. \n\n\"Jessica,\" he murmured as the thoughts took form in his head once more.\n\n> ~~she wasn't your typical~~ now there's a girl who was definitely something. She had brown hair and hazel eyes. Lips that could light up a carnival. She was possibly the best thing to happen to me, literally. Or maybe the worst. \n\n\"No. No. No.\" Darrell uttered. It was horrible. Who would read this trash. Definitely not Jessica. But he had to tell her. He had to ask her what's happening, and yet, he didn't know how. She'd been missing from classes for over a month.\n\nI tried to visit her house but her neighbors said her whole family had moved.\n\n\"Totally bonkers!\" Darrell said.\n\n> Okay, here's the deal. A girl named Jessica, yeah, you. That's who I'm talking to. The only way I can reach out to you because I know there's a conspiracy out there. I don't know who's after you or why they've taken your family away but I'm pretty sure you got away before they did and the only place I could think of where the Anne Ass Anonymous Society (wink wink) would never think to look is probably here on our favorite sub. Yeah, the one where we first bonded over and the one where you thought my writing was sexy. At least no one would take this seriously, so listen, I need you to go to the place where we went that night after the party. The one where you gave me that bite \"by accident\" and make sure you're not followed. Why? Because something's wrong. I don't know how to explain except that I'm not becoming as smart anymore. Maybe it's wearing off. Maybe you need to bite me again. Please come. See you soon. Love, The D.\n\nFinally, he thought. The synapses were firing again. He double checked his sky cam. It was definitely a full moon out that night, in fact the fullest he'd ever seen. Something about the relative distance of the moon towards his position that somehow brought out the inner genius in him. \n\nI should log that down, Darrell thought. Gotta start making observations in case things deteriorate further.\n\nHe rubbed his hands together. \n\nAnd get back to my paper on global warming.\n\nA sound came from what was likely the 2nd floor of his two story home judging by the echo and reverb. Probably a pot.\n\nAnd after that, to meet up with Jess. Wait what--\n\n\"What?\" Darrell said aloud this time. \n\nHe was holed up in his basement and knew for certain that no one should be in. His parents were on vacation and weren't due for another week. A robber? \n\nUnlikely, he thought as he performed a quick calculation on the statistical probability of that occurring in his neighborhood based on the data he had recorded for the last month or so.\n\nNo, something worse, he thought, and he automatically realized it was linked to Jessica's disappearances. Something that had been vaguely budding at the back of his mind but he could never have quite fathomed it before; but given the timing and circumstances.\n\nHis guts, or rather, his heightened senses were telling him to flee. Quietly.\n\nHe took one last look at his post. He hadn't even sent it out yet and yet...\n\nDarrell deleted the words. They had no meaning now. He understood that his days as a were-genius were numbered. Jess was... gone. \n\nHe quickly drafted up another post. Something to rile up the \"redditors\" who frequented the sub, and something that would buy him some time to escape. He could hear the soft threading of a sneaker on the carpet lining just above him. It would reach the door and stairwell to the basement in approximately four minutes and seven seconds.\n\nHe could also feel the brilliance endowed by the moon's positional loom fading. He was losing his touch as the intruder crept closer and closer downstairs. The intruder would, in one hundred and seventy seven seconds, arrive at the bottom. \n\nShe'll think she has the upper hand, having brutally murdered numerous victims in cold blood just to savor their brains and become a little smarter herself. Thinking that the fact that she'd had the \"smahts\" of seven other people that Jessica turned, would allow her a comeuppance over one such as I, who had been bitten a week earlier. \n\nI'm sorry, Amy. I knew it was you all along. I knew you'd come to the same conclusions I did. That to solve the world's problem, we had to become even smarter than we were before. But unlike you, I found a way to stay smart even without the reliance on the moon. You who thought that being the Class Wiz second to Jess would somehow make you the smartest of us all. Somehow, you've underestimated me and I'm glad you took the time to read this.\n\nSee, the stress reliever beside this laptop? It contains an adhesive gas that will ignite the moment you step off the panel that you so gleefully threaded over thinking you'd have won. Well, sucks to be you, because the effect's of the bite is proportionately inverse to the intelligence one possess. So me being the biggest idiot around seems to have become the one with the biggest brains. I figured out at once that Jess wasn't exactly the pastor's daughter and you weren't really lesbian either. You just wanted a bite like what you'd deduced happen to me. So I guess you really wanted was a piece of me? Well congratufuckations. \n\nYou got what you came for.\n\n( •_•) \n\n( •_•)>⌐■-■ \n\n(⌐■_■)\n\n- The D", "I like to go to the coffee shop down on the corner each day. The coffee shop is below a big gray building with red letters. The man who guards the gray building door has a gun that he has on his belt. He smiles at me every day. The coffee shop has green muffins that I like and Alisha is very nice to me when some people there are not. Write your diary she says. So I write now. I sit and eat my green muffin and watch the people and how fast they come and go. I don't understand some of the words they use but sometimes I understand enough to be able to smile and nod. I also like to read magazines that people leave at the shop. I don't understand most words but sometimes when I read a word goes very dark with very bright edges and I understand.\n\nTREPIDATION\n\nThis word I know. I just saw word reading same magazine yesterday and it was too long. Now I now I must look at the plastic card in my wallet. I keep the card behind my other card with the big red letters. I use that card for food. Like green muffins. This card has the days of the week. Monday. Tuesday. Sometimes there is a picture over the day. Today has black circle.\n\nLUNAR PHASES\n\nIt says top of card, this word makes sense now too. The scar on the back of my left leg begins to throb, even though I know that mark has been on me for many years now. I don't remember quite how I got it, as the murk and the cobwebs that normally plague my brain are beginning to lift a little. I don't really want this pistachio muffin, not very fond of them, but I always seem to have one in my hand. I put the moonphase card back into my wallet and stand. I give a nod to Alisha who gives me a big smile as if I've just walked into the place, but that's typical as she's always happy to see me during this time. Last month I took the whole night off to help her with her taxes, and then we headed out to a movie and some drinks. She really needs to diversify her portfolio, but we'll need to deal with that in a few months. Tonight I have other work to do.\n\nI step from the coffee shop, and true to form, my good man Malcolm is at the door to my office, his hand already on the handle. \"Good Evening Mr. Morrone, glad to see you again sir,\" he says as he opens the door and I walk though. Still has that firearm on his belt, but I'm not sure why, not many people know what we do here. I have to work quickly, the moon is on the move!\n\nI enter into the boardroom, and there's my usual cadre of thinkers, scientists and of course there's always a few new people here that need something. Sometimes they're very important people, those that I see gracing the covers of magazines when I'm eating those wretched muffins, while other times they are everyday people with extraordinary problems. Each of them has 30 minutes to state what they need help with, and what they need solved. The next remaining 30 minutes, I step inside the soundproofed room with my people and we work through the issues. Tonight it's the polar ice caps, some software developer needing help with procedurally producing a universe and a group of parents whose children are struck by a neural disorder. We go through these things together, come up with best course of action, and sometimes we get paid very well. Other times we do these things because it's the right thing to do.\n\nUnfortunately, it's going to take a whole month for me to learn of the results. There's a lot of opaque time between these moments, but they tell me our success rate is very high and that throughout the world this group is known as the problem solvers. I'm so grateful to be their lead, but if you asked me to identify them within the next few days, I'd find it impossible. I'd know their faces, but it's like there's a disconnect matching the faces with the name, and everything then simply grinds to a halt.\n\nThe sunrise is almost upon us, so we need to close out these final few projects. It's been an extremely productive evening and I believe we're on the cusp of some major breakthrough on some items....but it'll have to wait as the sunlight begins poking it's way through the conference room blinds.\n\nI stand and make my way down the hall to the front door, where Malcolm holds the door open for me. He smiles at me and I see he has the gun on his belt. The air is hot and I am hungry. The coffee shop should be open in a minute. I can see Alisha putting water in the machine that makes the coffee. I wave. She waves as she turns the key and opens the door. \"Hi Darrell!,\" she says and it makes me happy.\n\nI walk to the counter and pick out my muffin. It must be bigger than the others and have many of the nuts. She pushes buttons so I can pay for it. I go in my wallet and take out the card next to my plastic card. The card I use to buy food. It has big red letters on it like the letters on the big building outside.\n\nALGERNON\n", "His grip tightened on the can of PBR; the sounds of aluminum crinkling filled the air. Booze splashed on the old, scarred bar next to \"JD <3 AL 1999\". He squeezed his eyes shut as the old bite marks that MIT bitch left on the side of his neck started to burn. He looked down at the bar, massaging the back of his sunburned neck under his Red Sox cap's brim, and muttered quietly:\n\n\"...bruh.\"\n\nThe change began in earnest. The usual self-loathing filled him, soon followed by disdain for everyone around him. The clasp on his cap popped as his forehead filled out, the cap falling to the ground forgotten. His posture grew worse, hunching over as the weight of the world bore down on his shoulders. \n\nHe stood, nervously waving to the bartender to make sure the man saw his cash on the counter. \"Yeah uh. Thanks for the beer.\"\n\nHe pulled his varsity jacket over his hunched shoulders and made his way through the crowded bar with a flurry of \"excuse me\", \"sorry\", \"thanks\". He opened the dive bar door to the cold Massachusetts night and watched as a Tesla stopped in the middle of traffic with both blinkers flashing. The passenger window rolled down and her face filled the void. Memories of that passionate night and her fateful bite vaguely flashed through his mind. \n\n\"We've made great progress on the prototype, Jay. The baby whale is coming to life. Come, you don't have much time tonight.\"\n\nHe nodded absentmindedly, stepped into car, and vanished into another month's adventure.", "It all began with Einstein’s evil twin. \n\nThere I was crying quietly to myself under the oak tree by the lake after a day of being ridiculed by the local townsfolk. Out of nowhere, this Einstein lookalike came out of the woods rambling to himself. I told him to go away, but he then did something I’d never forget.\n\nHe bit me. Right on my chin.\n\nShrieking with pain I beat him senseless then ran off back to my house. I was half groggy from pain and half scared from the man. One night, I came home to my delight and horror as I did string theory when making spaghetti for a late supper. It didn’t take long to make a correlation to the full moon, to deduce the mythical were-genius that bit me.\n\nSoon afterwards, I spent all my reminding money purchasing advanced textbooks and materials for my ingenious projects. The shopkeepers all laughed at me. But under my breath I promised that I would help the world and make them swallow their words.\n\n*\n\nI watched all the half-projects that I started every full moon of each month strewn on the table. Tear stains were visible on many of them, some even distorting the equations and words. I felt wetness in my eyes as I remembered sobbing over my hard work when the blanket of idiocy descended upon me. \n\nA cure for cancer. A solution to ending world hunger. A way to balance out global warming. \n\nMorosely, I scraped off the bits and pieces of metal of the incomplete plans into a bin. The dull clunk the lid made subtly portrayed my feelings as I sat down dejectedly. \n\nSo many humans, creatures and plants could have been saved if I had more than a day to work with. So much life could have been saved were it not for the curse of the ware-genius.\n\nThe chair fell over as I shoot up abruptly. Shaking my fists at the innocent-looking moon hanging in the sky, I yelled in frustration, cursing its name.\n\nAll thoughts of improving the world had vanished from my mind. Only ideas of various ways to destroy the accursed thing ran rampant inside me. I will do everything I can to stop it from crossing the horizon.\n\nThat’s it. A brilliant spark hit me right then and there. I didn’t need to stop the moon from going to the horizon. I just needed to make sure I wasn’t in the same timeframe when it went down.\n\nA slow smiled tugged at my lips as I realized the device I should have created long ago. I would devise a machine that would project a time bubble around me and my laboratory. The effects of the full moon would never wane while the bubble was active.\n\nThe mass of diagrams for the former projects was scattered with a wipe of my arms. I whipped out my pencil and grabbed another piece of paper.\n\nAbove me the moon dipped towards the horizon, while I worked ceaselessly to get the most important parts done. I could feel my mind getting foggier by the minute, but instead of stopping and bawling my eyes out, I hurried on.\n\nAs daybreak broke, I put down my pencil with a sigh. I admired the outlines and sketches I created. The diagrams and calculations I drawn now looked so unfamiliar to me, but I knew they were completed.\n\nNext month, I promised myself as I carefully scrolled up my work and put them in the safe on the wall. Next month, I will finish building the machine and then the world will know peace.\n", "Darrel woke up in the lab, disoriented. It had happened again.\n\nHe started working immediately, furiously powering through experiments. It was always so overwhelming - he could clearly see all the solutions to humanity's problems. But he just didn't have the time, or the support, to make the solutions come to fruition.\n\nHis monthly forays always felt so futile, but he persevered regardless. \n\n*\n\n\nDaylight was nearing, and he was nowhere closer to solving anything. \n\nOne person doing this, once a month, was simply not enough. What if he could have a partner? Two partners? Four, eight - a million?* \n\nHe wondered about the first ware-genius that had bitten him. It had clearly done it while it while still in a heightened intellectual state. Had it reached the same conclusion?\n\nWhat if everyone in the world could have this level of intellect once a month?\n\nWhat if the cure for all of humanity's problems was simply biting each and every single one of them?\n\nDarrell left the lab, checking his watch. He still had some time before sunrise.\n\nHe saw a group of people walking out of a club. \n\nDarrel grinned.\n\n\"Time to save the world.\"", "\"Darrell get your ass up here and take out the trash!\" Mrs. Barson shouted down the dark stairwell to her son Darrell who was sitting in his old beat up recliner watching TV.\n\n\"Shut up mom!\" \n\n\"Don't make me come down there!\" she screamed, her high pitched voice echoing off the wood paneled walls.\n\n\"Fine, damn...\" Darrell paused the cartoon rerun and trudged up the stairs. \n\nHe hefted the trash out of the can and walked into the dark alley behind their small house. Rows of metal garbage cans lined the alley, Darrell tossed the bag into his can and turned back toward the house when a faint rustling caught his attention.\n\nHe saw a shadowy figure sifting through his neighbors trash. Darrell squinted trying to determine if it was a person or four raccoons in a trench coat. After some deep analysis he determined it was in fact a person and he would tell them off. Trash is someones property you don't go messing with another man's property.\n\n\"Hey douche bag!\" Darrell yelled puffing out his chest.\n\nA lean man with a shock of white hair on top of his head popped up from behind a trash can. Definitely not raccoons. \n\n\"Don't mess with people's trash!\"\n\n\"Well you see young man, it turns out that a lot of this trash is actually a viable fuel source. If I can only some how harness the power of the world's trash we may have a new sustainable energy source thus solving the energy crisis!\" the man said excitedly.\n\n\"Uh. Don't mess with people's trash!\" \n\nA thick blanket of clouds drifted overhead, revealing a radiant full moon hanging in the night sky.\n\n\"Oh bother, young man for your safety you might want to return to your home.\"\n\n\"You wanna fight me bro?\" \n\n\"No, no, nooooooooo!\" the man howled in pain as he clutched the sides of his head.\n\nThis guy is bat shit crazy! Darrell thought to himself as he slowly backed away. With a burst of inhuman speed the man leapt over the garbage cans and sped toward Darrell. Darrell screamed loudly and turned to flee, but his house slippers couldn't get traction fast enough. Before he could react the man was on him clawing and biting. Darrell felt teeth sink deep into his neck, hot blood rushed out of the wound. He tried to scream, tried to roll, but the man was too strong. Black dots swam in front of his eyes as his vision narrowed, and he blacked out.\n\nDarrell woke up with a start in his bed. His Superman sheets lay in a sweaty ball on the floor. \n\n\"It was just a dream!\" he said to himself. His hand gingerly reached up to his neck and it came back wet with blood. Darrell passed out again. \n\nDarrell woke up with a start in his bed, again. \n\n\"It was just a dream!\" he said to himself. His hand gingerly reached up to his neck, he felt the dried blood caked to his neck. His eyes focused on the trail of bloody foot prints leading from his bed and up the stairs. He almost fainted again but the fear of his mother kept him awake.\n\n\"Mom's gonna kill me...\"\n\nDarrell cleaned up the blood as best he could and tried to ignore the situation by watching TV. He didn't leave the basement except to grab a few bites to eat from the kitchen late at night. Time passed and Darrell stared lazily at the TV day after day. Soon he had forgotten about the crazy man and the bite wound, as far as he could tell everything was normal. \n\nThe full moon peaked it's brilliant white face above the horizon and shone its light down on Darrell's little home.\n\nHe was about to start another marathon of a show he had already watched when he felt a hot flash shoot through his body. \n\n\"Well that's weird,\" he thought rubbing at his tingling arms.\n\nPain erupted from every nerve in his body. He screamed and fell to the floor trying to roll the pain away. It only intensified as he skin came into contact with the rough carpet. It was as if he was aware of every centimeter of skin, every nerve ending, everything. He was aware of everything.\n\nThe pain subsided after a few moments and Darrell took a few ragged breaths. Everything he had heard he remembered, everything people had tried to teach him he finally understood. Math, words, letters, science, history, it exploded into his mind like nuclear bombs going off. In fifteen seconds he understood more than he ever had.\n\nWith his new found gifts he knew what he would do. He would make society a better place, he would solve the most important questions on the planet. He sat in front of his computer and began to type. It was a work of art, it was his magnum opus. It was simply brilliant. As the moon began its descent and the sun rose Darrell felt his mind slipping, he could feel the brilliance fleeing into the dark recesses of his mind. In a rush he finished his essay. He took a step back and could feel his intelligence evaporate like a switch had been turned off. He sank to his chair and wept. The knowledge of being an idiot again remained.\n\nHe wiped the tears away from his cheeks and read the title of the essay.\n\n\"Jet Fuel Can't Melt Steel Beams.\"\n\n---\n\nAs always thank you for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit for more! ", "I have three hours to sunrise. I write in this journal every night that I can. One night every 28 days. One glorious moon-filled night where I am master of my own mind. The remaining 28 days and 27 nights are ... different. I can barely remember them when I am in this state to be honest. It feels like a memory of someone else's life. And I hate that someone else for stealing that time from me. \n\nI have attempted multiple treatments to extend my lucid periods with no progress to show. I have reliably demonstrate that actual lunar radiation makes no difference as cloud cover does not delay onset of symptoms. I have not yet attempted a travel plan where I would chase the night around the globe and thereby extend my gifted period. If I time it right for the full moon nearest the winter solstice, I may get up to 31 hours of night. I also have not attempted to move north of the arctic circle for longer nights as it still appears that a full moon is required. \n\nThe first night was confusing. I did not know who I was nor what I was doing. I could feel new connections coming alive in my cranium. I searched hungrily for any information of any sort. There were, of course, no books in the room I woke up in. The television only showed late night pablum. I did find a phone that granted me access to the Internet - and I tore through everything I could find. I deleted all the pornography bookmarks and replaced them with Shakespeare, Newton, Plato, and more. For nine glorious hours I gorged on everything I could find. But as the first rays of light crept over the horizon, I could feel my mind start to ebb from me. It was a little like falling asleep. \n\nWhen I next woke, I found that nearly a month had passed. I awoke in an automobile of some sort. I found a different phone in my pocket than last time. All the bookmarks were gone, once more replaced by filth of the most depraved sort. I spent that night, again, learning everything I could about science, technology, mathematics, philosophy, art, and the word around me. Once more, the sun destroyed my mind. \n\nThe third night I was better prepared. Another 28 days had passed. I knew that my life was quantized and measured - one night every full moon to live to my full potential. I hoarded every minute as jealously as I could. If my life was to be a blink of the eye, then I would make it as brilliant as possible. I emailed professors solutions to mathematical equations that had stumped the ages. I sent a treatise on cancer remission to leading journals. I changed several critical interfaces to the electric grid to make it more fault tolerant. And then the cursed sun stole my life from me again. \n\nThis is my twelfth night. I keep this journal hidden away but my daytime self always seems to find it and destroy it. I loathe that creature for stealing my life. I should be the one walking through the daylight not him! \n\nAlas, I believe some of me is leaking through to him. Not my intelligence - that's mine. But the desire to change to world. I fear for him. I fear for everyone. But one night a month I will still be here. I will still be working behind the scenes to help the world. \n\nThe sun ...\n\n\nThe door crept open as a young man in a suit entered the office. His boss didn't usually get in this early but he was unpredictable at the best of time. He saw his boss with his head readying on the desk in front of him wearing the same suit as yesterday. Quietly, he went over and woke him. \n\n\"Another long night Mr. Trump?\"", "Darrel rubbed his eyes and moaned as sunlight came pouring in through the window. As he slowly woke from his stupor, he realized that he wasn’t comfortably asleep in his bed. Instead, he’d crashed at his desk on top of a mountain of thick, musty textbooks.\n\n“Oh god…” Around the room, he found mountains of evidence of what had happened last night. His football helmet was being used as a petri dish for some kind of crystal formation experiment. The playboy posters and pictures of basketball players on his walls were torn down, and quadratic equations were scrawled across the wallpaper in black sharpie. Looking down, he realized that he wasn’t wearing the Eagles jersey that he normally slept in, but a T-shirt that was at least two sizes too small for him. His pecs and arms were stretching the fabric to the point of tearing. On the front, it said 'AH' in a square box, and under that, it said ‘the element of surprise.’ Darrel didn’t get it. “Oh god. It happened again!”\n\nDarrel’s phone buzzed across the desk, and a text from Ashley popped up. \n\n> Hey babe! I’ll be there in five. I’m so excited to go down to the lake. You’re going to love the new bikini I got…\n\nGreat. He jumped up from his desk, tore off the nerdy t-shirt, and threw all of this junk in the closet. The posters were hastily taped back up. Why does this keep happening? he wondered as he worked to hide all evidence of his transformations. Ever since that nerd’s braces scratched his knuckles while Darrel was beating him up, he would turn into some kind of super genius once a month. Last time, he’d woken up to find that he’d submitted two astrophysics papers to scientific journals. Luckily his parents, assuming it was some prank on their under-performing son, had hung up when the journals called back with offers of publication. That had been a close one.\n\nSatisfied that his room was restored to its original masculine glory, Darrel headed to the bathroom to get ready. As he applied deodorant, he noticed a strange high-pitched hum coming from behind the shower curtain. Ripping it aside revealed a glowing, hovering ball of energy that seemed to pulse and throb. “I’ve done it!” was scrawled in sharpie across the white shower tiles, and next to that, “I’ve created a self-sustaining fusion process for unlimited energy!” Darrel didn’t understand quite what that meant, but he knew that it wouldn’t be good for his reputation around school. \n\nThe doorbell rang. Darrel dug his letterman jacket out of the hamper and tossed it over the fusion thing, deciding that he’d worry about it after he got back from the lake. Then he raced downstairs and opened the door for Ashley.\n\n“Hey, you!” Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore a tight sundress. She bounced up the stairs and kissed him in on the cheek. “I tried calling you last night, but when you picked up I only heard some nervous stammering. Was that you?”\n\n“No… I….” Darrel did have a vague memory of getting flustered and needing an asthma inhaler. But that couldn’t be true; he didn’t have asthma. “Must have been the wrong number. Hey, let’s get going.” He tried to close the door, but she lunged for it.\n\n“I just need to use the bathroom, babe. It’ll only take a sec.” \n\n“NO, wait!” He followed her inside and grabbed her by the waist.\n\n“Come on,” she giggled. “It’ll only take a second.” She slipped out of his grasp and into his bathroom. \n\n“What is that noise??” she asked. Darrel stood helplessly in the doorway as she pulled the shower curtain aside and found his letterman jacket hovering two feet over the bathtub. She pulled it aside to reveal the glowing ball of pure energy, and then she noticed the graffiti explaining what it was. “Self sustaining fusion? What does this mean?”\n\nDarrel broke out in a cold sweat. This was it. She was going to find out. She’d tell the whole school that he was secretly a nerd. He’d be kicked off the football team and forced to join the AV Club or something. He’d end up with an academic scholarship to college and probably start liking Anime. His blood ran cold.\n\n“Is this your little brother’s?” Ashley asked.\n\nIt was like a manna directly from heaven. “YES!” Darrel shouted, louder than he should have. “I mean, yes!” His grin stretched from ear to ear. “That’s exactly what it is. That big nerd.”\n\nAshley laughed and shook her head. “You should teach that kid to play football or he’s going to be such a loser.”\n\n“Yeah,” Darrel laughed half-heartedly. “What a loser.” Close one, he thought. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this charade up.\n", "Darrell was confused.\n\nWell, more confused than usual. Every month it was the same thing - the shed was relatively clean one morning, and then overnight some clown would dump a bunch of blueprints, metal scraps, and papers littered with gibberish inside. \n\nDarrell had been meaning to investigate, but simply cleaning out the shed required far less effort. He walked home from work, opened the shed door, and began the monthly ritual. The first thing he noticed was a stack of papers -- one of them marked \"Chemical Components of Cancer Vaccine\" -- which he promptly tore into tiny pieces and tossed to the wind.\n\n**\n\nPrecisely one month later, at 7:15 PM, the sun had set and the moon was beginning to appear from behind the clouds. Darrell entered the shed, exhaling deeply after a rigorous, satisfying evening of gardening and weed-killing. Then, as quickly as the relief arrived, he was consumed by panic.\n\nOh my God,* he thought. Where is it? Where is it?\n\nHe raced around the relatively well-organized shed, tossing around garden tools and creating an even more chaotic mess than before.\n\nEvery month some idiot breaks into my shed and clears out all my research, he thought. Time to start from scratch, I suppose.\n\nDarrell found a white board hidden behind the lawn mower and began to sketch wildly. In about thirty minutes, he figured out a tentative method of providing clean water to 500 million people, but decided to run another draft later on.\n\nHe devised plans for a new form of alternative fuel made from Gatorade, a means of saving the Great Barrier Reef, and a cheap, affordable source of basic nutrition for impoverished communities, among others. Ever the perfectionist, he was fully satisfied with only one of his discoveries. By 6 AM, he was ready to make a phone call.\n\n\"Hello, Department of Commerce? Yes, how would you like to fix the U.S. economy tonight? Perhaps several other countries' as well. Yes? All right, very good. Yes, I'll hold.\"\n\nThe sun's rays were beginning to peek through the window.\n\n\"Hello, Secretary Pritzker? Yes, I think the first step is to --\"\n\nA flash of light hit Darrell straight between the eyes.\n\n\"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.\"\n\nSecretary Pritzker stared at her phone, baffled. \"Are...are you still there, sir?\"\n\n\"Uhhhhhh. I'm sorry, who is this?\"\n\nPritzker sighed. \"If you're going to make a prank call, try a pizza shop, not the U.S. Government.\"\n\nDarrell shrugged and tapped his touchscreen, ending the call. When he glanced up to see where he was, his shoulders sagged.\n\nThe shed was a mess.\n\n**\n\nThanks for reading! If you'd like to see more of my stories, check out /r/GigaWrites.\n\n \n\n", "Mary Stevenson found her son where she always found him at 7am: wrapped around the mini-fridge on the concrete floor of the basement wearing nothing but a pair of over-matched white undies and a physiologically unlikely amount of body hair.\n\n\"Darrell, get the hell up! You can't be late for work again.\"\n\nDarrell Stevenson awoke with a snort and a fart. \"Wha? Why? Yes? M'up. M'up. Okay.\"\n\nMary shook her head. Was it the drugs, she wondered? Yes, the doctor had suggested rather strongly that hard drugs during pregnancy could* adversely effect the baby, but cocaine wasn't really a hard drug, and besides - it was the 80s. How was any sane woman supposed to make it through the 1980s without cocaine and quaaludes?\n\n\"You lose your job, you're out of here. You hear me? And what the hell were you up to last night?\" Mary stomped to Darrell's lopsided, secondhand Ikea desk and started picking through the various loose sheets of paper and spiral-bound notebooks.\n\nDarrell pulled himself to his feet and considered his hands for a moment. For some reason his right wrist hurt. The most likely culprit - at least from a historical standpoint - seemed to be over-masturbation, but Darrell left himself open to the possibility of simply having slept on it funny. He decided he would run some tests in the shower.\n\n\"This is all crazy talk,\" said Mary, shuffling through the pages.\n\n\"What?\" said Darrell, retrieving his work pants from behind the pull out couch.\n\n\"All this stuff on your desk,\" said Mary. \"You've got his one thing here - Bi-partisan student loan reform. Since when have you had any student loans?\"\n\nDarrell shrugged. \"Um. Maybe it's about that one time Jimmy Parsons loaned me three dollars for lunch.\"\n\n\"When was that?\"\n\nDarrell considered this, which involved a good bit of finger counting. \"1991.\"\n\n\"Well, you've got a whole goddamn notebook about Jimmy Parsons' $3 then.\" Mary tossed the notebook aside. \"And what's this? This sounds pretty perverted.\"\n\nDarrell padded across the cold, gray floor and took the stapled pages from his mother. \"Gender In-e-qua...Inequality in the Workplace - A Solution to America's Opportunity Gap. Huh.\"\n\n\"Who's gap is that about, anyway?\" said Mary, swatting Darrell across the back of the head. \"Sounds like pornography to me.\"\n\n\"Mom, I don't write pornography,\" said Darrell. All the same, he found himself quickly scanning the document for any good bits. He briefly got excited when he saw something about women getting taken advantage of, but that didn't amount to much. He tossed the papers into the bin. \"I must have some sort of sleep disease,\" he suggested. \"Like sleepwalking, but I just sit here and write out a bunch of nonsense instead.\"\n\n\"Paper's not free, you know,\" said Mary, picking up yet another notebook, this one titled ISIS - Decoding Patterns of Movement. \"You used up both sides, too! Can't even write on the back.\"\n\n\"Well, I can't help it, can I?\" said Darrell. \n\n\"Can't you sleep-do-something-helpful instead? Like sleep-clean-the-gutters?\"\n\nDarrell yawned, pushing the rest of the notebooks and papers into the trashcan. \"That's not how the human brain works. It's complicated, mom. You wouldn't understand.\"\n\n\"I understand you're going to be late!\" She pushed her son towards the stairs. \"No 20 minute shower this time. Move move move. Airport's not going to security itself. Let's go!\"\n\n\"Alright, alright,\" said Darrell, stifling another sigh as he slowly trudged his way up the stairs. Halfway up, his brain was suddenly assaulted with a barrage of vague, but pressing memories. He saw images of smiling children. He saw war-torn nations rebuilt in a wave of goodwill and neighborly love. He saw weapons dismantled. He saw dying species replenished and green forests renewed. He saw hands clasped.\n\nThe images held a moment, just on the edge of memory, teetering as Darrell reached out to grab them. Then his stomach gurgled.\n\n\"Mom? Do we have any Eggos left?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Shit.\" Darrell turned back to the memories, only to find that they had all fallen over the edge into oblivion - never to be recovered. \"What about Pop-Tarts?\" ", "That one night every month was the night Darrell lived for. He twitched the curtains open, watching the silver stream of moonlight streak over the gritty carpeted floor. On the desk, ready, stood a box file full of printed graphs, figures and tables. String theory, quantum theory, why you feel slightly 'buzzy' before you sneeze: he was ready to answer the big questions. A cup of coffee stood beside them, and on Darrell's hand he wore a bandage. He'd already spilt hot water on himself once this evening, testing if it had been hot. Once the transformation started, he wouldn't even feel it. \n\n\nThe moon raked him like a questing searchlight and Darrell's shoulders hunched. His hands on the sill clenched into wood, splinters pushing under his fingernails. The fizzing feeling started in the back of his neck, working its way to the crown of his head like tiny spiders. He rushed to the desk, took a slurp of coffee and rustled through the box file. Not a moment to waste. He wondered why the guy who bit him called it a curse. Darrell cracked his knuckles and reached for a file.\n\n\nQuantum Mechanics? No, he wasn't there yet. Not quite. Not until the moon hit its zenith. Darrell opened Hamlet, a copy of Freud's work sitting by his left elbow. He found where he'd left it last month: the yellow highlighted line that, when he was normal, he could barely read. Now it made sense. God! Making notes faster than humanly possible, he almost tore through paper with the nib of his pen. \n\n\n\n\"Of course,\" he muttered to himself. \"To be or not to be... The great mystery, answered.\" But if he said it out loud, he would lose it, so he wrote still faster and sparks flew from the metal nib. Head hunched low in concentration, he blocked out the layers and layers of thoughts that came with the intelligence. \n\n\n\nYvette wasn't flirting. She was just being nice. \n\n\n\nYou gave that customer the wrong change. \n\n\n\nThe butler killed the widow. Don't call Mum to tell her.\n\n\n\nFor Darrell, the only thing that mattered was the usefulness of his work. Sundry thoughts he filed away. Later, he would deal with them. Later. If there was time. The moon screamed white through the window, the only light illuminating the genius at his desk. Around him, the room was messy. Moulding food perspired in one corner. Normal Darrell couldn't work out where the bad smell was coming from. All of his clothes had been dyed a weird pink from that red jersey he'd accidentally shrunk. The bed was unmade. \n\n\n\n\"Faster, faster,\" Darrell gritted his teeth in frustration. \"Why can't I go faster?\" \n\n\n\nCellular cancer: that project was almost at an end, but the labs hadn't come back with the results fast enough. It would have to wait till next month. Darrell shoved the file off the desk with a howl of anger. \n\n\n\"Not good enough!\" he said to the empty room. The cup of coffee stood cold beside him as he flicked through the next file in the box: the calculations for the next space flight. How to construct a new type of pressurised suit for Mars. He ran through them, synapses firing faster than sound in his mind. It was so easy. \n\n\n\nRed light broke the dark of the night. The moon faded to a slither. Darrell clutched at his hair. \n\n\n\n\"Carry the one,\" he murmured to the paper. Fat, heavy tears began to spill from his eyes. They blurred his hurried calculations, ink lost beneath them. \"No,\" he begged. \"It's too early. Not yet, please, not yet.\" \n\n\n\n\nStupidity was like a blanket. It settled on him, inevitable as misery. The light faded from Darrell's brain as it rose in the sky: the logs and the sigmas became gibberish, the calculations a foreign language. Dawn rose, and Darrell wept. The realisation that he was an idiot hit him like a train. The bandage on his hand, the rotting food in his room. Darrell remembered the pity in people's eyes when they saw him. He could forget when he was stupid. He knew no better. But when he was smart, Darrell knew. \n\n\n\nIt was a curse. And it hurt. \n\n\n\n\n--------------\n\n\n/r/Schoolgirlerror: I mostly write fantasy and sometimes the odd piece of realistic fiction" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 9, 15, 35, 63, 63, 80, 139, 213, 1770 ]	[ "1471441644", "1471453194", "1471465472", "1471468191", "1471469077", "1471456515", "1471456985", "1471457068", "1471457121", "1471459695", "1471459935", "1471460667", "1471461233", "1471462336", "1471464381", "1471464525", "1471465440", "1471450299", "1471457094", "1471464295", "1471459558", "1471451928", "1471453115", "1471455475", "1471448861", "1471445892", "1471446260", "1471444872", "1471446023", "1471445635", "1471444292", "1471444835", "1471443307" ]
	[WP] When a sky-whale dies, and its carcass comes to rest in civilized lands, wars are fought over the remains. This is called a "whale fall".	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "An old man and his son waited on a cold hillside for 3 days, waiting in preparation for the celestial being to finally grace the surface of the Earth. Whale Falls, that's what they were known as. Human civilization had stripped the planet of most valuable resources ages ago, very few things were left that were worth fighting for. This was one of them. \n\"Father!\" Ajin shouted out. \"How much longer do you think we'll have to wait?\" \nThe old man kept his gaze fixated on the horizon, and spoke without making any movement. \n\"We will wait as long as we must. We cannot let this one escape from our hands.\" \nAjin and his family had not been successful in ever claiming possession over one of the fallen beasts. Strong tribes would always overpower the small group and would leave nothing behind, not even mere scraps. Food had become increasingly scarce over the past few moons. Ajin and his father both held the responsibility of providing for their family; they did not want to come home empty handed yet again. \n\"We've been here for three days!\" The young man exclaimed. \"How can we even be sure that the sky-whale is going to come down any time soon?\" \nHis father said nothing. Ajin let out a sigh and realized his plight was futile. They were desperate. They would be more useful to the family if they did not return rather than to return empty handed. This was their last hope. \nThen, suddenly, as if the gods were hearkening unto Ajin's prayer, the great beast began to descend from the heavens. \n\"Go!\" Ajin's father was frail and old, his bones could hardly support his body. His son was to be the one who would carry out their mission. \"Be sure to retrieve the heart above all else!\" \nAjin already knew this. He and his father had gone over the plan countless times in preparation for this opportunity. If he could retrieve anything that could be used as fuel or food, it would be an added bonus, but the heart was the true prize. It was absolutely essential that he brought it back. \nThe young man began his descent down the mountainside, focusing on the massive being falling through the atmosphere. It was at least 100 feet long, many times larger and heavier than any land animal that existed. Ajin tried his best to estimate where the beast would land, but it was too distant to accurately measure. He ran as fast as his legs could possibly carry him, running with the sole intent of reaching his destination before somebody else could. As he began to close the distance between him and his target, he saw several figures in the distance. He felt his heart beat quicken, sweat began to drip down his brow. In the past, his family had always gone out of their way to avoid confrontation with the desert dwellers. This time, that option was not available to him. He had no choice but to fight. They needed that heart. \nAs Ajin continued his charge, he gripped the handle of his weapon at his side. He had never actually used it against fellow man, but he was sure that the concept was the same. Swing, maim, kill. It was something he had known how to do for years, but only now for the first time was he nervous to do so. \nThe figures in the distance were now recognizable and very clearly human. They appeared to be armed with a variety of swords, spears, and knives. They grew even closer as the seconds continued to pass. Ajin counted five men, all significantly larger than him, and equally terrifying. He knew very well that he could lose his life that day, but it did not matter to him. They needed the heart. \nThe sky-whale now appeared to touch the ground. Any moment now it was sure to land. Then suddenly, a large deafening blast echoed throughout the land. Ajin saw the creature, no more than a quarter mile ahead of him. A large cloud of sand was thrown into the air. The impact of the landing sent a shockwave that caused Ajin to stumble and nearly fall. The cloud had arrived a few seconds later and began to shroud Ajin's vision, but he kept racing forward, towards his goal. They needed the heart. \nAjin could hear voices nearby now, indistinct, yet very close. He drew his sword, and lowered his speed. He assumed a more defensive position, and inched closer to the prize ahead of him. Then he saw them, the unit of desert dwellers. They had already began to scavenge and harvest the beast for it's valuable components. Ajin was now at the tale of the whale. Up close it seemed infinitely more massive compared to when it sailed though the sky. He crept alongside the fallen animal, inching closer and closer to the unaware group. He was now only a few feet away from them, and they had yet to notice his presence. Realizing the advantage he had, and without hesitating, he began his attack. \nHe began by attacking the largest of the bunch, and plunged his sword into his back. He heard the unmistakable sound that his sword made whenever it took life. shiiiing The man let out a howl that alarmed the rest of his group. Ajin began to panic, realizing that he had lost his biggest advantage. No matter, he had to complete his mission no matter what. They needed the heart. \nThe four other men all drew their various weapons, and began spacing themselves out in a semi-circle around the boy. Unsure if they should attack given their numbers advantage, or if the boy was a skilled warrior that they needed to be wary of. Before any of them could react, Ajin pulled a knife from his back pocket, and through it directly into the chest of one the other men. The man immediately fell down crippled by the damage the blade had dealt. Now aware of the impending danger, the remaining three began to attack. \nOne man, the smallest of the group, rushed Ajin with daggers in both hands. He leapt towards him bringing the blade down from above his head towards Ajin's neck. It was a foolish move, as Ajin easily redirected the mans strike to the side with aid from his sword, threw the man off balance, and knocked him to the floor. Once on the floor he was able to deal the killing blow with ease. There was three down now, only two men left. \nBoth of the remaining men were now visibly terrified by the fighting prowess demonstrated by the young boy before them. Their hands were shaking, and could hardly keep hold of their weapons. The braver of the two held his ground, and went in to attack, while the other ran off dropping his weapon, and leaving his comrade to perish. Before the remaining foe could realize that his friend had abandoned him, Ajin already began his assault. The man had no chance, as Ajin expertly broke his guard, and once again took a life with his sword. As quickly as it had began, the fight was already over. Ajin let out a sigh of relief. For once his family had a stroke of luck. His enemies were incompetent, and he succeeded his goal with relative ease. He then turned towards the beast to his side, and began carving out the heart. \nAfter about 20 minutes, he had it. Ajin, for the first time in his life, had been victorious. He held the mystical object in his hand, it continued to pulse and beat regardless of the fact that it was no longer alive. He began walking back towards the hill where his father awaited him, focusing only on the item that laid in his palms. As he was walking, he felt a sharp pain in his back. He turned his head and saw a man with a blade in his chest. Ajin recognized his fatal mistake almost instantly. The knife had missed the man's heart, it wasn't enough to put him down. The man, with blood dripping from his mouth had a wicked smile on his face. He laughed with a deranged smile on his face. \n\"Didn't think I'd go down that easily did you?\" \nJust as he spoke, and arrow pierced his throat, ending his maniacal laughter. The man then dropped, this time dead. \nAjin collapsed to the ground with the heart in his hands. All he could think about as his life escaped him was that he had failed. He saw a skinny figure standing several yards away, holding a bow that Ajin recognized from his years growing up. \n\"Father?\" was all the only noise that he could let out. \nHis father began slowly making his way towards his fallen son. As he drew closer, he stood over Ajin, staring down at him with the same cold visage that had always decorated his face. He bent over, plucked the heart from his dying son's hands, and began making his way back. \nAs Ajin lay there, in his final moments, he felt no bitterness or resentment towards his father. He would have done the same thing were their places reversed. \nThey needed the heart. " ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1471454145", "1471464092" ]
	[WP] A masochist goes to boot camp.	8	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "How did I learn I was a masochist, you ask?\n\nDo you really want to know the answer to that? And furthermore, does it really matter? The point was, I, like a fair number of others, got off on being degraded, humiliated, and, well, hurt. There was just something… erotic about it. I kept this little fact about myself pretty well hidden, mostly because people judge you for it and honestly what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom.\n\nAfter the housing market crash of ’08, I was laid off, as were many of my colleagues. I worked the odd job throughout the next six or so years, temp jobs that ended almost as quick as they began, just barely scraping a living. I went back to my hometown to live with my parents. And by 2014, I felt like the loser I’m sure I was. A 28-year-old bum just squatting in his mother’s basement, working at the 7/11. This is what my $250k bachelor’s degree had got me?\n\nThe truth was, there were jobs out there, but they all required a master’s. I was intelligent enough to do it, but my liquid assets were all but gone, and I couldn’t ask my parents to fund another endeavor.\n\nSo my plan, like so many other young men, was to join the army and let Uncle Sam handle the tuition. Hopefully I would get some sort of office job that would translate well to civilian life. I was a well-built kid, and I figured that the Army would give me the discipline that I so desperately needed. \n\nI joined the Marines. The thing about the Marines is that as much as I’m a masochist, they’re all sadists. Marine boot camp is built to break you. Which, of course, was kind of my dream come true.\n\nMy sergeant was a good guy, but he needed to test our mental strength and convictions. He needed to make sure our mental game was as strong as our physical game. We didn’t get called by our names. We were mocked for wearing the uniform wrong, spat on, yelled at, and pushed to the breaking point.\n\nI loved it. The more they tried to break me, the more attuned I was. The Army was perfect for me in every way. Of course it was hard. I don’t want to give anyone false ideas, the physical aspect of it was grueling. I felt like dying almost every night – and I was a fairly fit guy. But the mental side… I rocked that.\n\nMy sergeant used to pick on me more than the others, because I was a bit older than the other recruits, and I also took everything he said with a smile on my face. He called me a “lily-livered pansy faced raccoon” and I would smile and nod. I think it infuriated him somewhat, but I was unbreakable. I loved it.\n\nThe truth about masochism is that it's more fun when you don't know what's coming. If you know someone's going to strike you, where's the pleasure in that? The Marine boot camp was designed to keep us on our toes. I didn't just survive, I thrived.\n\n(tbc)" ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1471455926", "1471464350" ]
	[WP] You're taking a walk and you see a girl that looks eerily familiar. Then, you see her again, and again, and again...	7	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Each time she was a different, proportion. Sometimes smaller, sometimes taller, sometimes wider and sometimes lanky. I stood outside the amusement ride waiting for her to come out, and picked up Danny instead. The sun had set so I must have missed her in the group of patrons. Later, while my little brother and I were at the funnel cake stand, I dropped some powdered sugar on my blouse. He laughed at me and pointed like the little punk he is. His eyes turned wide, mid-laugh. Still pointing, I see a look of pure horror come over his face. He's not pointing at my shirt anymore, but slightly over my shoulder. I smile. It's all going according to plan. I know when I turn around there will be nothing; and he'll still be there shitting his whitey-tighties. I look back and dismiss him. \"It's alright you little twerp.\" I say rustling his hair. I grabbed his hand and took him to the funhouse again. This time betting him he couldn't do it alone. He steeled himself, knowing that I was messing with him. \"Alright you bag of wind, but you owe me five bucks!\" he says. \"Fine, just get your butt in there before I tell all your second grade friends you're a chicken.\" I chided. Relieved to finally get him out of my hair for a few seconds, I waited outside and finished my funnel cake. When all of the sudden I heard a blood-curdling scream. Wait, that sounded like him! That's my little brother! The lights go out on the ride and the whole group runs out screaming, but none of them are Danny. No faces I could scan were him. I ran through the exit of the funhouse to find him in the middle of the mirror room. Danny was nearly dismembered, blood pouring out of every place the mirrors' shards were sticking out. Next to him was a carney with a paler-than-normal face. He whispered \"Holy Shit\" under his breath about five times before running out. This isn't what I wanted. I only wanted to scare him. I heard another scream but it was my own. After it subsided, I could only feel shock and dread. This was all my fault! How can I explain this to Mom? What do I do!? The only reason I touched her secret room was to get back at him for shooting my cat. It was just a BB gun! He didn't deserve this! The only thing I know now..I'll be next. ", "I sat quietly in the terrace, sipping the coffee. It was a sunny day today, and I figured it was as good a time as any to enjoy the weather and watch people living their lives.\n\nDid someone add a new...? I wondered as I watched her walk past me again.\n\nIt was the fifth time I'd seen her in five minute span, but each time, she was coming from the same direction, always from my right. Finally, out of curiousity, my eyes followed her past. I felt my eyes straining to focus on her before I realized I couldn't -- her back was covered in green and black lines, each stretching beyond her shoulders, rapidly changing in length. It looked like noisy digital static, almost as if...\n\nThis is a virus!\n\nI quickly pulled off my headset and began tearing the nodes away from my skin as fast as I could, but I wasn't fast enough -- the computer shot a surge of electricity through the last node on my temple with the force of a car hitting a brick wall. I found myself crashing into the C.D. rack beside my desk, sending a cascade of disks raining over me.\n\nMy body shivered on the ground like a fish out of water, suffering from the aftermath of the shock. Footsteps slowly approached my computer as a darkened figure removed the USB drive that wasn't there before. His dress shoes were pristine beneath his black slacks with blue stripes. He crouched down, placing his elbows on his knees. \"I told you I'd do it, didn't I?\" he said quietly into my ear.\n\nI tried to look up to his face, but my muscles were far too weak to move, forcing me to surrender to gravity. \"It's just a game, you said,\" he sneered. \"Get over it, you said.\"\n\n\"But you know what?\" he asked, shaking the USB drive in my face. \"I lost $10,000 from your shinanigans, your little escapade. And now I'm taking it all back, plus a little extra for you thinking you could get away with it.\"\n\nAs he stood up to leave, I could hear my computer fizzle to its death, fried from the inside out. \n", "(VERY inexperienced writer here, first time on the subreddit! Please give feedback, don't be afraid to criticize.) When I first woke up, it seemed like a normal day. I got out of bed, took a shower, brushed my teeth, and went to work. The office was as dull as ever. I just sat around, typing and typing and typing. After what seemed like an eternity, It was finally time to go. I walked downstairs, stepped outside, and saw her. She was a complete stranger, and yet, it felt as if I had seen her somewhere. I didn't want to look like a creep, so i just kept walking to my apartment. I turn a corner, and there she is again. I just assumed she was somebody else, who merely looked the same, and kept walking. When she appeared a third time, I was worried. In my life, I had been involved in some not-so legal practices. I was a pretty good hacker, so I thought the cops couldn't find me. I was screwed. She was going to arrest me. I decided to switch my route, finally see if she was following me. I approached a corner, and to my horror, she was there again. I ran home. I knew I wouldn't be able to survive in prison. I made a mad dash to my door, threw it open, walked to my apartment, and waited. After hours, they didn't come. When my mom called me, I nearly had a heart attack. She told me there was some terrorist attack nearby, a crazy girl shooting some cops. I calmed her down and told her I was fine. I went to my computer to make sure nobody found me. After rooting through the police databases, I was sure I was safe. I felt so tired I just laid my head down on the keys. I slept for what seemed like forever before the green text ticked onto the screen. \"Wake up, Neo..\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2 ]	[ "1471470609", "1471472563", "1471475041", "1471477106" ]
	[WP] You are an immortal witnessing the end of time.	6	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Here we go.\" She looked scared. \"I wish I knew what was going to happen next.\"\n\n\"I know, my love, I know.\" I knew I wasn't much comfort. We laid back on our blanket, positioned atop our favorite spot on the hill, staring at the night sky. \n\n\"There goes another,\" she said, pointing to the stars. One of them suddenly got twice as bright, and after a few seconds, disappeared. Another one followed suit soon after. \n\n\"It won't be long now.\" I squeezed her hand tight. I had lived for centuries, seen wars that drove mortals insane, met insane mortals that started wars, but it wasn't until now that I found someone as perfect as her. Hell, maybe this was all my fault. \n\n\"Do you think you'll die?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" I quietly replied. \"I have lived for too long as it is. And I wouldn't want to live on without you.\" A few more stars burnt out. \n\n\"I hope there's something else. Something after, ya know?\" She seemed to have accepted her fate, as most had by now. \n\n\"I hope so too, sweetheart.\" I felt the temperature begin to rise, and the night sky began to turn to daylight. \n\n\"At least you didn't have to watch me grow old.\" I saw tears begin to roll down her face, as we stood up and embraced each other one final time. \n\n\"I would have loved to see you grow old,\" I said, squeezing her as tight as I could. \"I love you.\" \n\nHer grip around my waist tightened. \"And I'll love you 'til the end of time, and after.\" She chuckled through tears. \n\nI held her as the sky turned white-hot, and her body began to deteriorate. I sat on the ground, and watched as the world began to burn around me. Trees caught fire, then the grass. The earth began to shake, and before long it was too bright for me to see anything. Over the years, I had encountered some pretty painful things--but never anything as severe as this. \n\nMy skin was melting, my eyes popped, my blood was boiling. I could no longer feel the earth beneath my feet. My body tried to heal, but the damage was being done faster than it could keep up. I tried as hard as I could to think of my beloved. Please, just let me die. \n\nAnd then there was nothing. No feeling, no sight, nothing at all. Slowly, my senses began to come back to me. My body began to come back to me. \n\nI could feel my skin, I could sense my eyes, but I couldn't see a thing. Not at first. There was no real sense of time, but things slowly started to come back. A dot in the distance, then another. I watched as the universe seem to form all over again. \n\nAnd eventually I found myself on solid ground once again. Was it earth? Was this going to repeat, over and over? Would I have to survive through all of creation? \n\nI contemplated that thought for a long time. Would the same people be reborn? Would every event in history be repeated, or would things be different this time around? \n\nWould I get to see her again?\n\n" ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1471473813", "1471482440" ]
	[WP] God, intending for Mary of Nazareth to have the virgin birth of Jesus, makes a typo. Instead, a guy named Marc ends up pregnant with the son of God	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Sometimes it feels like something alive is inside me, moving inside my stomach. I should’ve visited the village doctor months ago. We couldn’t afford it then and decided to ignore the persistent irritation of scratching and pounding felt from inside my stomach. \n\nThere is the option of getting health insurance. At first, I thought it was a scam. Now I regret not investing in Yahweh’s Health Care program when their rates were much cheaper. MediRa is an even cheaper health insurance but a travel at their office through the desert would take days and I cannot risk taking a day off for I fear for my wife’s sudden and unexplained disappearance if I do not produce in the contribution of our livelihood. \n\nJosefa loves me with all her heart. I feel we are truly destined to be together ‘til death do us part. Even with this enormous stomach of mine in my frail and scrawny body, she chose to stay with me. Despite being an abomination, an obscene creature freshly taken out of the devil’s oven, she chose to have faith that we’ll make it through this. Through thick and thin. She is truly a blessing from the almighty. \n\nIn the recent weeks, she has been taking care of me more than I’ve been able to provide for us. With my back aching more frequently as of late accompanied with stomach cramps from time to time, it has been difficult to maintain productivity at work. Throwing the net into the lake from my boat takes much more effort than it did eight months ago. Don’t even get me started with my bladder. \n\nIn the beginning, I would row my boat back to the land along the edge of the lake in order to empty my bladder. But due to my lack of productivity, when no one is looking, I urinate on the lake while kneeling on my boat in order to hide my disgusting misdeed. \n\nI’m ashamed, not only for my abhorrent acts while at work but also for my inability to provide. We’re neck deep in debt. Arik has been knocking on our door every single day asking for us to pay him. We want to move out, but we’ve nowhere to go.\n\nTo compensate, I have chosen to make a promise to her this morning before heading to the lake.\n\n“I know it’s been difficult, but today, I promise you: I will not come back home until I’ve filled my boat with fish.” I said confidently. Something pounded my stomach from the inside making me wince in pain.\n\n“Take it easy.” She said. “All that matters is you come back here safe. Praise be to our god, may he guide you throughout your day. And may he be merciful that you’ll come back home to me safe.” \n\n“Thank you my love, but a promise is a promise.”\n\n“I just want you to be careful is all.” She begins caressing my stomach while grinning mischievously. “For all we know, a baby is inside that stomach of yours.”\n\nNot only did I feel pounding in my stomach, but my heart as well. The thought of being cursed by the devil made me uneasy as I left the house without replying nor reacting to her joke.\n----------------------------------------------\n\nTwelve pouches hitting the merchant’s table hard as the silver clanked together in a sweet melody anesthetizing the constant aching of my back and cramping of my lower abdomen. As I begin collecting all the pouches in my arms, Arik puts his hand over my arms halting me from gathering my earned silver.\n\n“Not so fast.” He said. He takes two pouches and said, “We’re even. You may go.”\n\nI grabbed the rest of the silver and began heading towards home. Josefa is going to love hearing this. I expected to finish by night, but ended up finishing as soon as I started. She will not believe that I literally filled the boat with fish. A boat load of fish! Hah!\n\nLAMB! CHICKEN! We’ll be able to afford real food!\n\nWith the unrelenting excitement, I begin walking faster. And faster. And faster. The joy that I feel can only be calmed once I’ve reached home. I begin running.\n\nUpon reaching home, I opened the door with as much force as my happiness can exert. \n“JOSEFA!” I yelled.\n\nShe looked at me while sitting at the dining table eating a piece of bread with green mold around the edges.\n\n“Stop eating that! We’ll finally be able to eat real food!” I raise up the pouches of silver in my hands to the level of my face.\n\nHer pupils began dilating, her eyes grew and her smile became wider. From the struggles she had to bear, her eyes turned moist.\n\n“We can finally take you to the doc—“ She stopped mid-sentence as her eyes became fixated on my crotch. \n\nHer gesture filled me with confusion, interrupting our moment of happiness. The anesthesia brought by the happiness of my earnings began to wear off as I grabbed the top rail of the chair near me due to the pain in my lower abdomen and in my lower back which had depleted nearly all of the strength in my legs.\n\nFeeling the moist of my crotch I look down to see wetness from the crotch area of my pants all the way to my ankles. Blood began spotting in the middle of my crotch, gradually increasing in size. I felt a chill throughout my body as the pain had me grunting.\n\nJosefa snapped out of being shocked and assisted me to sit down on the chair.\n“I’m going to get the doctor. Hang in there.” She rushed out the door leaving me in pain.\n\nCurious as what’s causing the pain, I stripped my pants down. Half naked with my junk exposed, I tried to look down to see the state of my bleeding penis. To my disappointment, my abdomen blocks my view. Not giving up, I try curling my body to get a better angle on what’s going on. Again, my abdomen is in the way.\nI refuse to wait for the doctor. If I am to die, I will know the reason, damn it! \n\nI grab a hold of the shaft of my soft penis and begin shaking it back and forth. I started to stroke in an attempt to get erect. The pain is too much, I can’t get hard. I closed my eyes and began thinking about my wife.\n\nI take the opportunity to curl my body once again as I feel the hardness of my penis. I see the tip. Unsatisfied, I curl up even more regardless of the shortness of breath that I am experiencing. I can see the head of my penis fully with a small amount of blood dripping out of my urethra.\n\n“AAAAAAAHHHH!!!” I screamed as my stomach tightened, uncurling my body as it involuntarily pushes something downwards out of my body\n\nI screamed even more and much louder as I feel the pain moving downwards slowly. I feel bones in my pelvis begin creaking as I let out another scream as if my throat is on the verge of exploding.\n\nA loud crack originating from my pelvis had me clenching my fist as I pound the arm rest of the chair to divert the pain. I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed. I try to curl my body again and notice that my pubic area has bulked in size.\n\nMy stomach tightens again and I let out another loud scream as I feel the object inside me move downwards, but smoother than before. It begins entering the shaft of my penis, slower but not as rough as before. The feeling of stretching and tightening of my penis had me curling my body out of curiosity. \n\nIgnoring the pain of the contractions, I maintained my body in curled position in order to have clarity on the event that is occurring to me.\n\nThe root of my penis has bulked into a solid round mass. With each pain, each contraction the round mass begins moving down towards the head of my penis stretching the tissues surrounding it.\n\nSlowly, my fear begins manifesting into reality as the shaft begins to tear from the middle toward the root and the mushroom tip of my penis with the intensity of my scream matching its progress. I look away to focus on bearing the pain and by the time I look back, I see a baby gasping for air and flailing its arms as if it’s trying to swim in the pouring blood of my shattered penis.\n\nI uncurl myself and relaxed into the chair tilting my head back as I stared into the ceiling whispering, “What.. the.. fuck?”\n\nThe door slammed open and Josefa comes in with the doctor.\n\n“Marc!” She yelled upon seeing me sitting over a pool of blood that originated from my shattered penis. Her jaw drops open upon seeing the baby hanging from what’s left of my dignity. “What happened?!” \n\nI focus my sight on her as my vision gradually dimmed to see her go into the kitchen and grab a knife.\n---------------------------\n\nI open my eyes only to be blinded by the brightness of glowing white clouds. A man in white robe and a blinding sun for a face approached me.\n\n“Hey, sorry about that, Marc.” He said.\n\n“About?” I asked.\n\n“Oh, you know… look, this is not easy for me to do. So… sorry about making you pregnant. I should’ve just handwritten all my orders to my angels instead of using Satan’s typewriter.” He explained. “It’s just.., it’s been a while since he’s been banished from here and… the typewriter’s all I have left of him. I kinda miss him y’know? He is still my child.” \n\n“Okay.” \n\nA portion of the clouds that made up the floor began taking form of a figure resembling a baby. As the clouds disappeared around the figure, it took form of a human infant screaming while standing upright with the umbilical cord hanging from the umbilicus to the placenta on the ground.\n\n“Oh my god…” The infant finally calmed down.\n\n“Yes?” Said the man with the face of a sun.\n\n“My son!” I said.\n\n“Actually, he’s my son.” Said the man with the face of a sun. He turns to the infant and says, “So… what happened?”\n\n“You don’t know?” said the infant. “Oh my god dad! This is so like you! I can’t believe you’ve forsaken me. That bitch said that I’m the curse of the devil and stabbed me right in the neck! Multiple TIMES!”\n\n“Umm… let’s talk about this in 30-40 years okay?” The man with the face of a sun snapped his fingers and the infant turned into clouds.\n\n“I’m very—“ \n\n“Confused?” The man with the face of a sun completed my sentence. “Don’t be! Welcome to Heaven!”\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471485594", "1471507162" ]
	[WP] There's an unexpected package waiting for you on your doorstep. Inside the box is a letter explaining who you really are, some odds and ends, and an invitation.	20	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Brown paper wrapping surrounds what appears to be a small box waiting for me on the doorstep. I bend down, ignoring the general rule of life to not play with unknown packages, and pick it up.\n\nI shake it and mutter an old joke to myself.\n\n\"Is it a puppy?\"\n\nI chuckle, still funny even after all these years.\n\nI kick the door in, idiot roommates never lock it, and leave my shoes on to spite them. Dirty, mud encrusted landscaping shoes trekking down the hall. Fuck them, right?\n\nI struggle for a moment with my room key before I get it open and enter my current, luxurious, living space. It's about eight feet by ten feet with two mattresses stacked on top of each other. A 31 inch TV sits on cardboard boxes and clothes are piled wherever there is space.\n\nIt's my room. My home for now.\n\nI sigh and sit, forgetting about the box for a minute. When it catches my eye I decide that I'm curious enough. I carry a knife for work so I flip it open, cut into the thick brown paper, and peel back the outer layer.\n\nIt's smaller than a shoebox. Inside is a letter in a white envelope.\n\nI open the letter and begin to read.\n\n'David,\n\nYou are not who you think you are. You know this. Think about the things you know how to do, the way you act. Come find me, VisionWork Labs. Hurry.'\n\nWhat the fuck. I chuck the letter away and find a unique set of objects inside the box.\n\nFirst is a badge, a worker's ID tag with my face on it. It says Jake Webb, which is not my name. Underneath in blue letters are the words \"VisionWork Laboratories\"\n\nThere is a key on a chain, along with dog tags that say\n\nWebb, Jake\n\n551-12-2046\n\nRH Positive\n\nNo Preference.\n\nThere's something wrapped in an oily green cloth, pinned down under a black folding knife.\n\n\"Fuck me.\" I breathe it out, unwrapping a semi-automatic pistol.\n\nI should be concerned. I should call the police. Instead I look up where this lab is, shower quickly and put on jeans and a t-shirt. I throw the things into a small bag I use for hiking and head out the door.\n\nEven as I'm reminded of a saying I keep walking, determined. I haven't always felt right. Maybe there will be answers.\n\nOr, like that saying goes.\n\nMaybe I'm the cat.\n\nAnd curiosity killed him.\n" ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1471533534", "1471534423" ]
	[WP] Some firebenders are fueled by rage, some by beauty, some by harmony. You're powered by alcohol.	21	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I took a big swig of whiskey from my flask. This was a very important game tonight. I never expected the Platypus Bears to get to the finals. But I guess with me at the head, how could they not? I mean, I am the greatest firebender of all time!\n\nI know, I know, I shouldn't be so cocky. Lee keeps telling me that, but I honestly don't give two flying lemur craps about what he thinks. We can always find another waterbender if we need to. Pro waterbenders are easy to find these days. A quality firebender like me, though, that's a different story. I took this team to the top, and the others better not forget it. \n\nI stepped onto the stage, drinking the last of my liquor. Oh yeah, that. So blah blah blah, benders draw their power from different sources, sun, rage, blah blah. I was never one to get too angry, and my poor skin is too sensitive for the sun's energy to work very well as fuel for my bending. Then on my eighteenth birthday, while I was sipping what I pretended was my first glass of beer, a thought occurred to me: alcohol is flammable. Long story short, I committed arson that night.\n\nBut ignoring the 20,000 yuans worth of fire damage, I learned something. As long as I got really drunk, I was really good at bending. By the end of the month I started the Platypus Bears with some buds. As soon as I learned I didn't need to throw the alcohol onto the opposing team to light them in fire, we were allowed into tournaments. My amazing bending skills brought the enemy to their knees. And moe importantly, into the water. Lucky for them too, 'cause they would have burned to death 100%. \n\nSo that's how I did it. I could have done it alone if it weren't for the rules saying you needed three people on a team. But I digress, it's time to play. I stepped into the arena, watching the cheering crowd. I started to feel a little tipsy, that was good. I'll know how good I did tomorrow morning from how much of a hangover I get. \n\n_________________________________________________________________\n\nI watch the footage in disbelief. The other team's earthbender was horrible! he was missing me without fail! I watched me get my balance, probably to charge up some awesome firebending move. And then...\n\nNo, no that couldn't be right. I couldn't have just fell off like that. He didn't even hit me! I just lost my footing and belly flopped into the water. Lee and Su Lin looked in my direction, then resumed their bending. \n\nWell, wow. I never knew Lee could bend like that! He knocked off the firebender and the earthbender in like ten seconds! Su Ling knocked the waterbender around pretty good, too. Come to think of it, I don't remember her being that good either. Have I ever actually seen them play? This was the first time I've seen a recording of one of our games. I had a sick feeling in my stomach, and it wasn't just from the hangover. Speaking of which, I needed something for this headache.\n\nI climbed the stairs up to Lee's room, where we keep the medicine. As I opened the door, however, I was a little shocked to find Su Ling, Lee, and my parents sitting around the room. What the hell were my parents doing here?\n\n\"Son, we need to talk,\" Dad said. \"We've heard you've been having a little problem with drinking lately.\"\n\nLee was more blunt. \"Don't be so soft on him.\" He turned to me. \"You're a drunk. We're kicking you off the team.\"\n\nI noticed some tears forming in my mother's eyes. \"Oh, honey,\"\nshe said. \"I really didn't think it was so bad. Your friends told us about what was going on. You can stay with us until you're better.\" \n\n\"But..\" I protested. \n\n\"No buts, son.\" Dad said. Su Ling and Lee affirmed this with a nod. \n\nSu Ling spoke. \"Look, ever since we formed, you've been nothing but a burden to the team. We really didn't want to do this, but you nearly lost us the finals. We already have your replacement. Go get your things and send your share of the month's rent in the mail.\"\n\nI shambled to my room, wondering what I'd do with myself now. Then I saw the bottle of wine I'd left on my dresser a couple nights ago. I looked inside. Mostly empty, but enough for a sizable flame. So this new guy was taking my room, huh? I drained the bottle. and made sure that wouldn't happen." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471541645", "1471570966" ]
This can be expanded upon anyway the author wants.	[WP] You have the ability to speak to money. You decide to interview various notes from around the world. This interview is for a wrinkled $20 found at a crack house.	4	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"You should wash your hands after this. This wasn't a great idea\". \n\n\"Shut up, Eve. I'll prove I'm not crazy.\" I let the toilet lid fall and gently put the crumpled note on the yellowish plastic, like it was the most precious of my possessions. \"All set.\"\n\n\"You're really beginning to freak me out, you know that, right? Please, tell me you've just been fuckin' with me over the last week. I don't wanna be here. It's been fun and all, but this isn't the type of place I want to hang out at.\"\n\n\"Give me a second\" I murmured, as I tried to concentrate on more important things than the stench of the fecal matter and God-knows-what-else that pervaded the air. \"You're not helping\"\n\n\"To do what?\" The veins on her neck have slowly started to swell. \"Jesus, I don't even know who's more fucked up in the head between the two of us. Why did I even-\"\n\n\"Shut up, dammit! I am not crazy, this shit is as real as you and me. I'll prove it, look!\" I brusquely turned away from her and tried to channel my thoughts into a single stream of consciousness toward the dusty note. Nothing happened. \"I...I.. I'll try again.\" \n\nI forced every single muscle of my face into a grimace of pain, hoping it will work this time around. \"SHIT! Why the fuck-\"\n\n\"Stop it.\" Eve's cold voice snapped me out of my world. Her eyes, full of disbelief, were also displaying something else that I was deeply afraid of - pity. \"You're delusional. I'm out of here.\" \n\nThe door slammed shut behind me.\n\n\"Why? WHY? Of all tries, why now it had to fail? Can't fuckin' believe it.\"\n\n\"Answer's easy\", a tiny high-pitched voice has caught my attention. I stood up, taking the old leather wallet out of my back pocket. Opening it, I took out the last 5 dollar bill I saved for the taxi back home.\n\n\"W-what do you mean?\" I mumbled, partly relieved I wasn't insane and partly because I thought I probably still was.\n\n\"There's no watermark.\"\n\nOld Abraham was right." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471545768", "1471550603" ]
	[WP] Your 3DS got shocked by lightning, ever since some strange things have been happening.	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Slowly you open your eyes, but you have trouble focusing. Your entire body feels tender and bruised, as though you'd rolled down a mountain.\n\nYou try to remember what happened. You planned your annual solo backpacking trip; buying all of the food, patching the hole in your one-man tent, letting your roommate know that you should be home in a week. \n\nThe first two days of the trip were perfect. Pleasantly cool weather, lots of water along the trail to restock, you even saw a moose. On the third day, the black clouds rolled in, so you set up camp early and decided to have a leisurely evening.\n\nYou remember playing Super Mario on your 3DS, then nothing. \n\nLooking around, the ground is scorched, and you have vein-shaped bruises all over your body. A lightning strike. You try to stand up, but can't move your legs. No, surely not. You pinch your legs, and it hurts, thank God. Again you try to stand, but your legs refuse to respond, so you crawl over to what's left of your tent.\n\nYou have some water, then search for your cell phone on the off chance it has a signal 13 miles into the forest. It doesn't. And it will be four more days until anyone comes looking for you.\n\nOkay, you say to yourself, think. I can't walk, but I need to stay alive until help can come. You've got your camelbak full of water, and an empty Nalgene bottle. There's a water source about half a mile back the way you came, although dragging your legs it would take hours to get there. As you lay there thinking of ways to get a message home, you drift off to sleep.\n\nThe next morning you awake, stiff and sore, and still unable to stand. You make some instant oatmeal and think. The best way to be found by rescuers is to stay put, so you decide that that's what you're going to do. So, thinking you might as well entertain yourself while waiting to be rescued, you pull out your DS, which, you remember, was in your hand when you were struck by lightning. Hopefully it still works.\n\nYou switch it on, and Super Mario flickers onto the screen. You start the level, and immediately have to jump over a Goomba. As you tap the A button, you find yourself soaring 15 feet into the air, flipping over like an omelet through the air, and crashing into the ground. \n\nMust run...will finish later if anyone's interested... ha. :)" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471557888", "1471560115" ]
	[WP] You have the special ability to see the cause of death of the person you look at. For most of your life, you chose to not pay attention to it, but now everyone you look at has the same cause of death.	202	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"'Sup man! Thank god it's finally summer, I was starting to think we'd never escape this hellhole,\" his childhood friend, Jeremy, was coming down the hall towards him.\n\n\"No kidding man, we're finally free,\" he tried to keep his eyes from flicking above his friend's head, but the usual curiosity got the better of him. For the ten years they had known each other, the premature obituary that wrote itself above Jeremy's head had read 'Fire.' He assumed today would be the same, and looked back down after the habitual glance up. It took a moment to register the change.\n\nThe softly glowing words that had for so long warned against flames and smoke had suddenly shifted. Now there was simply a gentle 'you' hovering in the air.\n\n\"Uh, hey man, do I have something in my hair or something?\" he snapped back to the conversation.\n\n\"No, sorry, just uh...\" he trailed off. How the hell did they change. They never did that. And what was up with the 'you?' Me? Kill Jeremy? Yeah right.\n\n\"Whatever man, I gotta go meet up with Cindy anyways. Catch ya later I guess,\" and Jeremy walked down the hall. He stared after him, and just as he turned the corner, the word 'fire' flickered back to replace the 'you.'\n\n\"What the hell,\" he muttered to himself. He'd have to figure it out later - school was out and he had better stuff to do than sit around in the halls.\n\nAs he walked to his car, he tried to subtly look at everyone who was passing by. About 50 yards away, whatever word or phrase was there before was replaced with that damn 'you.' The luminous letters mocked him, letting him know what he could be responsible for if he got to close.\n\nHe desperately wished he could see the time stamp of the death - he HAD to know when the... Whatever was going to happen. He needed to get away from all these people, to protect them. Suddenly, a little voice piped up in his head.\n\n\"Kill them all. Now. Do it. What have they ever done for you. They'll all die some time, put them out of their misery. NOW.\" A soft, comforting veil feel over his eyes. He knew what he had to do.\n\n~~~~~~\n\n\"15 reported dead in a school massacre. Earlier today, as the local high school let out for a long awaited summer break, a deranged young male began attacking people still in the building. Victims were found at 4:30 this afternoon, with causes of death being either blunt force trauma or suffocation. Police are still looking for the criminal, as he seemed to have had prior knowledge of the school that allowed him to avoid most of the cameras. More information as we find out the rest of the story.\" He turned off the TV, feeling ill.\n\nIf he had only left a few minutes later, he could have been one of those poor victims. As he counted his blessings and felt generally grateful for his life, the little voice faded away, it's work done for now.", "When I walked into the room, everyone stared at me. The other teenagers were relaxed, but nonetheless, clearly interested in me. I did a quick head count: 19. I was the last one to arrive, soaking wet, after my car broke down two blocks away.\n\n\"Ahh, you're finally here Dan,\" a big man in a full firefighter's suit greeted me, nametag reading Bill. He gave off a haze of heat. \"Welcome to the Academy.\" Flood\n\nA blonde girl with glasses and freckles was the first of the other new students to speak. She bounced up, and in a bubbly voice introduced herself as Abby. \"You're drenched! I'll take care of that,\" and a warm breeze wooshed around me, drying me almost instantly. In Sleep\n\nI mumbled out a \"Thanks\"\n\n\"What's your power?\"\n\nA scrawny boy in the back spoke up: \"He's a Deather\". Gunshot\n\nYou could hear a pin drop.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMy relationship with my so-called gift changed significantly as I grew up. As a baby, I had no idea what the messages meant. When I learned of death, I thought it was normal, that everyone instinctively had a guess as to how other people would die. No one spoke of it because of the taboo nature of death. It wasn't until my grandmother died because of a heart attack that I had predicted and a friend's mother in a car crash, that I knew the true extent of my power. I had also figured out that no one else had it. (Of course, this isn't strictly true, but it is exceedingly rare.) This is when I started hating it. I tried to never look people in the eye, as that was when I learned of their death.\n\nI was in this stage when I was contacted by the Academy. They take in people like me, different people, and train them to accept and use their power, hopefully for good purposes.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Yeah.\" The mind reader nodded at my confirmation.\n\nBill tried to break the awkward silence, clearing his throat. \n\"Let's get started, shall we?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe first few weeks at the Academy were not fun. There is definitely a stigma associated with seeing people's deaths. The other students did not bring it up much, but I was an outsider. I did become friends with another outcast, Craig, who had the power of free refills. I was with him eating lunch when the bell for a general gathering sounded. We went to the main hall and, once the rest of the people had gathered, Bill started speaking in his baritone voice: \"It's time for this years' field test. Ivan and Carlos will fly you out to the Atacama desert, where you will need to face a challenging real-world test. Your score will affect your placement in your future teams.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nOnce we got to the desert, we found a town mock-up set up. The scenario was a city-wide fire, which Bill quickly provided. It was all going well, and I was manning a regular old water pump, when I briefly made eye contact with Sam, a shape shifter currently in the form of an albatross, carrying tubs of water over a burning building. Nuclear Blast\n\nI shook my head, sure I must have imagined it. Sam was out of eyesight though, so I couldn't double check. I continued spraying water onto a townhouse, and tried to blank out again. Then, when Craig came over to refill the water tank, I made sure to look him in the eye. His usual Racing Incident had changed. Nuclear Blast\n\n\"Holy crap. I have to find Billy. Have you seen him?\"\n\n\"Uhh, yeah, he's over there, but I don't think we're supposed to go to-\"\n\n\"Thanks.\" I ran in the direction Craig had pointed, reaching the instructor. Nuclear Blast\n\n\"Bill. Everyone here dies of a nuclear blast.\"\n\n\"Is this a prank, Dan? Because you know how seriously I take those.\"\n\n\"No. I'm about to wet myself.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt isn't easy to use the information given by my power effectively. I don't know when the fatal event will happen, or where. Just what. Would the nuke hit us there, in the desert? Would there be only one? Had I predicted an all-out nuclear war? One thing was certain. Every one participating in the test would die in it, as Bill had me check. I wasn't sure about myself, but it seemed likely.\n\nOnce he was sure there would be a nuclear explosion, he asked Ivan and Carlos to fly me and him to Washington DC. As it turned out, he had a direct line of contact with the President. We got to the White house, and were escorted inside by Secret Service members. President Hondert met us in the Oval Office, along with two generals. Liver Failure, Heart Attack, Gunshot\n\nI hadn't been able to see any Secret Service member's death, as they all wore sunglasses.\nWe were questioned, and we answered, giving an account of what I knew. Once we were done, I looked at Bill. Asphyxiation\n\nThe President didn't seem too surprised by what I had said.\n\n\"I'm sorry. We have decided that your kind pose too great of a risk to us, and therefore 'North Korea' will have a nuclear missile miss all major cities and hit the Atacama desert in a few minutes. Two birds with one stone, you see.\"\n\nI felt something tighten around my neck.", "I'm glad I'm the youngest child. I don't think I'd have been able to cope with seeing the words hovering over my mother's belly. I barely kept my sanity during the couple of months that 'miscarriage' floated above my sister's stomach.\n\nThis curse has left me an anxious wreak. I beg my brother not to get too drunk and to stay away from alleyways or poorly lit parts of town whenever he goes out drinking with his friends. Stab wounds. That's what his words say. Not a single stab wound, but many. I have a feeling it will be a gang, he'll be in the wrong place at the wrong time and this haunting prophecy will come true.\n\nMy sister and her boyfriend both have car crash hovering above them. Every time she leaves for work, every trip to get groceries, every time she gets in the car I'm filled with dread. \n\nMy parents give me a small amount of relief. Old age. I consider that death to be the luckiest of the lot. \n\nI refused to leave the house for two years before I finally gave in. These days I've just about managed to accept the helplessness I feel every time I look at someone, I try to think positive thoughts. 'They're smiling, that's good', 'they've lived a fulfilling life'. Sometimes I slip and the darker thoughts come back and I'm left stranded in my own little bubble, surrounded by the inevitability of death.\n\nI went on a drive today. I needed to clear my head. As I set off I filled up with petrol and then decided that I would drive until I got to half a tank and then I'd turn around.\n\nI've got to half a tank now but turning around and going home is a seemingly unachievable dream right now. I'm in a traffic jam. For the normal person that is about as bad as it gets. For me it's the least of my problems. Every one in the cars around me has the same words. Every single one. When the traffic shifts and new people are on either side of me, the words remain constant.\n\nSuffocation.\n\nI don't know what this means. What could possibly suffocate us all? \n\nMaybe we get buried. All of us. Buried alive and helpless to stop it, waiting for the last of our air to run out.\n\nThe longer I sit here the more panicked I become. I think I know what will do it but I can't imagine how. The road I'm on has steep slopes on either side of it. When it was built it was cut into the hill slightly to make travel easier. I'm certain that somehow the sides are going to collapse in on us.\n\nThat's when I feel it.\n\nA slight tremor.\n\nA distant rumbling.\n\nIt's gathering power.\n\nThe earth begins to tremble.\n\nBits of loose gravel are tumbling down the slopes on either side of the road. The people around me don't know what to do. The man in the car to the right of me seems to make the decision to smash through the central divide and drive along the wrong side of the road. As soon as he seems set on his decision the words above his head change. He's not going to suffocate anymore.\n\nHe's going to get crushed to death. \n\nThe earthquake is kicking off. Either side of the road gravel and rocks are flowing like great grey rivers. \n\nThe man has got his car through the central divide and is shooting off down the road. Just as the slope seems to give way and topples out over him. I watch on as a slab of what looks like granite falls away from the hill and lands perfectly on his car, extinguishing his words.\n\nThe whole hill is going now. Cars up and down are getting enveloped in the flow of rock. I try to open my door for the quick death that it will grant me. But I've left it too late. The rocks are piled too high all around me and they're piling ever higher. \n\nThis is it I suppose. Now I just wait for earth to stop shaking and the flowing rocks to subside. \n\nIt took about 30 seconds for my car to be completely buried and 3 more minutes until the ground settled.\n\nI lay my chair back, put on some music and waited for the end.\n\n\n", "“Theater Five, first one on the left. Enjoy your show!”\n\nGod, Cassie loved Senior Night.\n\nOn the second Thursday of the month, all of the city’s local senior centers brought their residents to the Park Row Cinema to enjoy a night of classic movies. The theater offered multiple selections each evening, and the geriatrics typically chose movies like Casablanca, Some Like it Hot, and To Kill a Mockingbird. Next month being December, they would almost certainly want to see It’s a Wonderful Life. The thought of so many people smiling and content warmed Cassie’s heart. She relished other peoples’ happiness. It was one of the main reasons she took the ticket-taker job in the first place. At the theater, everybody was able to put down the worries and stress that weighed down their lives and relax for an hour or two. Get lost in the moment.\n\nCassie felt a tap on her shoulder. “Cass, heads up. Just got a call; another bus coming in.” She turned around to see the round, bespectacled face of her co-worker, Peter. Peter was a cheerful man, rarely found without some type of junk food nearby. True to form, he was carrying a glazed donut in his left hand. Pete took a bite and swiped some crumbs off of his buttoned-up jacket.\n\n“I’m only gone for the long weekend, so don’t let this place fall apart without me, you hear?” He chuckled to himself, picked up his suitcase, and tipped his hat to Cassie as he walked out the door.\n\nAs she watched him go, a bright flash temporarily filled Cassie’s mind. Instinctually, she braced herself:\n\nPETER STRAUSS- HEART ATTACK\n\nShe cringed and shook the message away. Cassie had never questioned how or why she had been given such a disturbing gift (if “gift” was even what one would call it). Even though she knew nothing could be done, she wished Pete would slow down on the sweets. Maybe it would buy him just a little more time. Fortunately, she was never made aware of when people would die, only how. That information was quite enough, thank you very much.\n\nAnd fortunately, she never saw anything for herself.\n\nAs a child, she was terrified whenever her mother (AUTO ACCIDENT) got into a car, or whenever her brother (OVERDOSE) took pain medication for his back. They always told her the same thing: “Don’t worry, Cassandra. Everything’s going to be fine.” And, for the most part, they were right. Her mother survived the commute to work. Her brother woke up the next morning. Life went on. So she learned to stop worrying. She learned to live around her situation, to find ways to cope. Little moments of happiness, like the ones at the theater.\n\nAn elderly couple approached her holding out two tickets. The man wore a snappy brown overcoat and the warmest smile Cass had ever seen. He looked at his wife, who was carrying a small bouquet of roses, with the adoration of a groom on his wedding day.\n\n“Two for The Wizard of Oz, please.”\n\nCassie grinned and eagerly took the couple’s tickets. “Theater Five, first one on the left. Enjoy your show!”\n\nLARRY PERKINS- SLEEPING, OLD AGE\n\nBERTHA PERKINS- SLEEPING, OLD AGE\n\nFor Cassandra, Senior Night was a blessing. \n\nShe watched the couple leave for their seats, arm in arm, knowing that they would live out their twilight years in relative peace and comfort. As they entered the theater, the screeching of tires heralded another bus full of senior citizens. One by one, they slowly toddled to the ticket booth, got out their wallets, and made their way inside. The first was an elderly woman who looked about 80, wearing a bright red hat with a purple feather sticking out. Cassie always loved how the seniors would dress up for movie night.\n\n“One for The Man Who Laughs, dearie.”\n\nCassie tore the ticket and handed it back to the woman with the hat. “Theater Nine, last one on the right. Enjoy your show!” \n\nNow that was an old movie. Cassie hoped that the old woman wasn’t mislead by the title; The Man Who Laughs was an adaptation of an old Victor Hugo novel, and was by no means a comedy. It certainly wasn’t the typical fare for Senior Night, but enough people had voted to have it on this month’s listings. Maybe it was a favorite of hers, or carried some kind of nostalgia. As she took her torn ticket, the flash emerged in Cassie’s mind.\n\nEDNA FORRAGER- LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE\n\nWell, that was a comfort. Cassie figured that if one wasn’t going to die in their sleep, the best they could do was go out with a grin. She figured the woman with the hat had some time left; there wouldn’t be much laughing during the movie.\n\nA pair of women approached Cassie, both using walkers. They looked to be about 75, wearing matching teal dresses with…high heels? Cassie marveled at their tenacity and dedication to style.\n\n“Hello. Which one is The Man Who Laughs?”\n\nAgain? Cassie was surprised; she was sure that The Wizard of Oz would be tonight’s most popular film, but she had been wrong before. \n\n“Theater Nine, last one on the right. Enjoy your--”\n\nHOLLY BURBANK- LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE\n\nDOREEN JACOBS- LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE\n\nCassie paused. “Uh, enjoy…enjoy your show! Sorry, forgot where I was for a moment.” She forced a laugh as she handed the ticket back to the women, who eyed her with a quizzical look before shrugging at each other and beginning their steady shuffle towards Theater Nine.\n\nIt was peculiar to see the same cause of death for three people in a row, even if they were elderly. Cassie wondered where these seniors were being brought from. Did they really have such excellent service that most of their residents were smiling upon death? Maybe the staff brought in a comedian alongside the priest at their deathbed in order to give the clients one last chuckle before going into the great beyond. Cassie conjured up a mental image of a man wearing a goofy fake mustache and an arrow through his head and had to stifle a fit of giggles.\n\nTwo couples approached Cassie this time. She was unprepared for the sudden, sharp appearance of the flashes.\n\nEDWARD DOUGLAS- LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE\n\nMARTHA DOUGLAS- LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE\n\nJACK SPENCER- LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE\n\nMARIE SPENCER- LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE\n\n…what the hell?\n\nTrying to contain herself, Cassie stammered out “Theater Nine, last one…last one on the right.” She rubbed her forehead gingerly as she took the tickets.\n\nThe couples looked at her in surprise. Mr. Spencer spoke up in a wheezing voice. “But…hey, we haven’t told you what movie we’re seeing! We need to know the theater for The Man--”\n\n“…Who Laughs. Sorry I assumed, but it’s…it’s very popular tonight. Theater Nine. Last one on the right.” She watched, eyes wide, as the elders wandered to their seats, muttering to each other about the “strange woman.”\n\nSomething was wrong.\n\nCassie could feel it. Whether it was Theater Nine, or that particular movie, something wasn’t right tonight. She felt the urge to talk to someone, do something, anything that might help the people inside. Others from the bus approached her (LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE), and Cassie had to force herself not to scream. She attempted to convince at least one man (LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE) to go see The Wizard of Oz instead, but he was insistent on seeing The Man Who Laughs. “Our orderly’s been talking it up all month. There’s no way I’m missing this, lady.”\n\nWhen the theater was nearly full of people (LAUGHING, WITH A SMILE), Cassie could take no more. With a burst of energy, she bolted for the old payphone booth outside the theater. She would call the police, or 9-1-1. Tell the truth about her power. Make up a bomb threat. She didn’t know. Even as she dialed the number, Cassie knew that they wouldn’t believe her. They would call her crazy, a lunatic, a madwoman. \n\nMaybe they’d even lock her up in Arkham. \n\nBut she didn’t care. As long as they stopped the movie and got everyone out of the theater. Then maybe, just maybe, she could fight Fate and win. Maybe she could save some lives.\n\nCassie held her breath as the payphone rang.\n\nAnd rang.\n\nAnd suddenly went dead.\n\nTap-tap-tap. \n\nA knock on the payphone door. A man’s voice.\n\n“Sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for The Man Who Laughs. Theater Nine, was it? Last one on the right?”\n\nThough she couldn’t see the man’s face clearly through the door, she knew what flash would surely appear at any moment. Cassie let go of the phone, dial tone still buzzing incessantly, and began to cry. Desperately, she yelled through the door. “Don’t go in! It’s a trap! People are going to die! Get out of here!”\n\nThe man, seemingly ignoring her, continued speaking. “Oh, but I’m afraid I’ve lost my ticket. Will this do?” The silhouette bent down and carefully slid something through the crack in the payphone door. Some sort of playing card.\n\nThe card began to hiss as a noxious green vapor filled the confines of the payphone booth. Cassie shrieked and shoved open the door. As she collapsed to the ground, uncontrollably giggling and gasping for air, she looked up at the man and caught a glimpse of his face. His horrible, ghost-white face. His toxic green hair. Such a hideous, devilish grimace. \n\nLooking at such a terrifying image, Cassie couldn’t help but...\n\n...smile? \n\nYeah. Smile. He was so funny looking!\n\nBigger and bigger, she smiled.\n\nA flash began to appear, but Cassie’s brain was too oxygen-deprived to decipher it.\n\nThe man crouched down and narrowed his eyes, never dropping his clownish grin. “Thanks for getting everyone seated, my dear. I can assure you, this film’s gonna be a real…gas.”\n\nCassie laughed.", "Ivory hadn't slept for weeks. Her thoughts kept drifting, she kept getting distracted, kept being restless... It wasn't a good sign. Usually this happened within the weeks or months leading up to a disaster. The numbers had already started ticking down in the back of her head.\n\nThe first person she saw that morning, her mother this time, was always the worst. Her face was cracking and peeling, with red pits of flesh, charred around the edges, pus oozing from the curled, singed skin. Her eyes were wide, blank, blind. Her clothes were melted, dripping down and charring her skin more. Then, she chirped cheerily, \"Hey honey, there's muffins ready, I have to go, though! Love ya!\"\n\nShe dropped a sticky kiss on Ivory's head with her melted lips and was out the door. Ivory then did the only sane thing she could do in that moment. She ate a muffin. \n\nThen, she went to take a shower, numbers ticking down somewhere in the back of her head. Somewhere there was a siren. \n\nAt 00:00:00 she closed her eyes as she felt a concussion blast. The radiation burns killed her moments later.", "Jonathon enjoyed parks. He could relax and listen to children playing, the clatter of feet on pavement as the daily joggers went by, the distant barks of a dog playing with his owner. It was a soothing place to be, and he needed to take a break. \n \nIt was getting dark, parents took their children home. The birds quieted down as insects all around began their chorus. \n \n\nIt was a little after sunset when he finally sighed and stood up. It was at that very moment when she ran by. She was beautiful. Her hair up in a ponytail, to stay away from her eyes. Those mesmerizing eyes, a deep olive green. Full of life, of love. She waved a hand as she passed, having seen Jonathon there frequently enjoying to park. He waved back. He looked up, them sighed. Her death was close. Unfortunately, this death showed that it would be brutal. It was plural- stabbings \n \nJonathon sighed once more, exasperated, and turned to follow her. He hated running. He hated running with a knife even more. \n\n \nEdited for errors", "I hate my power. Every day, I have to force myself to get out of my safe, warm bed and face the brutal realities of the world. People always wonder why I'm a strange recluse who never left my house. Well, they'd be the same way if they had to witness the things I did.\n\nMy mother said she noticed I was different when I was an infant. Apparently, I'd start crying hysterically as soon as I met someone new, but it wasn't until I learned to talk that she understood why. I was probably the first child who's first word was \"dead.\" She still doesn't know where I learned it. \n\nAs I grew older, it became clear that I was unique. From the moment I meet someone, I see their death. I never know when they'll die, only what they will look like at the moment they take their last breath. Thankfully, it only applies to humans; I don't know what I'd do without my miniature Schnauzer to keep me grounded. \n\nWhen I hear the knock at my door, I have to force myself not to slink back to the bedroom. It's one of only a couple of interactions I have to endure, but it's still more than I'd like. Why the damn grocer wouldn't leave my delivery on the doorstep, I'll never know, but they always make me sign for the damn things. At least it's not as bad as walking through an actual grocery store and watching the broken, bloodied bodies hurry about their day, oblivious to the atrocities that await them one day.\n\nSteeling myself, I unlock the door, relieved to feel my dog nudging the backs of my legs. She always seemed to know when I needed her. I take a deep breath then pull open the door so I can sign for the delivery of food. A familiar cologne teased my nose and I relaxed a fraction.\n\nThe guy is a regular and knows my quirks. He knows I won't make small talk or look him in the eye. Hell, I won't even look at anything but the hand holding out a tablet. His death had always looked like it would be a fairly easy one, one brought on by old age that wouldn't come for some time if the high school class ring dated 2008 was any indication. Reaching for the tablet, I flinch. It's not the familiar hand of an elderly man with papery skin stretched over arthritic fingers. \n\nI force myself to lift my gaze and study the man in front of me. The voice is the same as always, but the figure is very different. His body is charred beyond recognition, flakes of blackened flesh sloughing off as he puts away the signed tablet. This is a first for me; never has a death changed. Movement down the hall draws my attention and I glance at my neighbor exiting her car. She had always looked battered and broken, but she, too, is now a charred mess.\n\nHorror fills me as my eyes dart to the other figures going about their lives on my street. Every single one of them looks the same and one thing is clear: something has changed their fates.\n\n****\n\nA work in progress", "Everyone dies. That was a lesson Joseph had learned from a young age. Crying after his parents and sister on that fateful day, begging them not to go away and being ignored, hearing the news of their accident with little surprise, these were the images that came up in his mind whenever he thought of his ability. For the most part, he learned to ignore the floating letters whenever he could. Knowing how someone is going to die isn't really useful if you can't do anything about it. In fact, he couldn't remember a single time where he could change it. He can't cure cancer. He can't prevent aging. He can't force people to change their plans. \n\n\nStill, Joseph couldn't help but feel shocked when he entered Lone Pine Mall with his friends. \"Nerve Gas\". That's what floated over everyone's head. Hundreds of people walking the halls without a care in the world, their inevitable fate looming over them in deep scarlet. Joseph froze in place the second he realized what was happening, worrying his friends when they saw his pale face.\n\n\"Umm... Joseph?\" said Melissa. \"You alright there? You look like you've seen a ghost.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" said Drew, \"did you skip lunch or something?\"\n\nJoseph's legs trembled slightly, but he managed to keep it hidden from them. Scratching his shaggy brown hair, he smiled weakly and said:\n\n\"Oh, it's nothing. I just remembered I have to buy something. Don't mind me! Let's keep moving.\"\n\nJoseph had just witnessed something that he'd never seen before. Melissa and Drew's fates had just shifted in front of him, blurring from the original causes they usually had into the one of everyone else in the mall. To Joseph, it felt incredibly eerie watching it morph into that, but it confirmed something he had long suspected. \n\n\"Fate can be changed\"* thought Joseph. \"Their causes of death can change, so that means their future isn't fixed yet. It's just the ending they'll face if they keep walking the path they're in.\"\n\nThe busy murmurs of the crowd blended into an unrecognizable blob of noise as Joseph walked along side his friends. His mind was busy racing on what he could possibly do. He could just leave now. Come up with an excuse and run away from the mall as fast as he could. \n\n\"No!\" Joseph quickly shook his head sideways. \"I'm not gonna run away. If I die here, so be it. I'm probably the only person around that can do anything to stop this, and I won't be able to live with myself if I just give up... Never again.\"\n\nGripping his fist tightly, Joseph stopped walking and told his friends he would meet up with them later. As he went to the security booth, his limbs got tenser while stepping on the green tiles. The letters above everyone he passed got darker the more minutes passed by. This was a bad sign, a part of his ability he'd only seen once before. The closer someone was to their death, the deeper in color their letters got. There was still time, but he had to hurry if he hoped to change anything.\n\nJoseph pounded on the booth's door and said:\n\n\"Please, it's an emergency! I need your help!\"\n\nA mustachioed man with a rounded belly opened the door. His white uniform was stained with marinara sauce and his face wore a scowl that screamed 'What now?'. Inside, there was a younger man with darker skin, sporting a sheepish look on his face. The older security guard cleared his throat and said:\n\n\"What seems to be the problem, young man?\"\n\n\"Look, I know this is out of the blue, but you have to evacuate everyone in this building!\"\n\nThe man widened his eyes in amusement, let out a chuckle, and said:\n\n\"I don't know what you kids are thinking these days, but these pranks are getting a bit out of hand. Go away kid, you're wasting our time.\"\n\nThe guard grabbed the door, but before it close, Joseph stuck his foot inside and shouted:\n\n\"You're killing everyone here if you ignore me! People will die if you don't listen!\"\n\nPushing Joseph away by leaning his hand on the teenager's chest, the guard shrugged and closed the door shut. Joseph slumped with worry, desperately running his hands through his hair. Pacing back and forth, the teenager started freaking out when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Joseph turned around and saw it was the same dark skinned guy from the booth. The young guard smiled and said:\n\n\"Don't worry kid, I can help you!\" He gave Joseph a thumbs up. \"Officer Wilfery is on the case!\" \n\n--------------------------\n\nThe backrooms of the mall were a lot more eerie than Joseph could have imagined. The hallways were poorly lit by lamps that flickered with a perpetual buzz. Drops of water from leaky pipes echoed throughout, complimented scratches and chitters that Joseph assumed came from rats. Following the security guard through this corridor, Joseph could not stop wondering why this cheerful man decided to help him. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the assistance, it's just that it was very odd how the man took everything he said about the nerve gas at face value. He didn't even ask how Joseph knew about it! Unable to hold back his curiosity, Joseph hesitated for a second, but said:\n\n\"So... uhh... Officer Wilfery, please don't take this the wrong way, but why did you believe me so easily?\"\n\n\"To be honest, I'm not really sure.\" Officer Wilfery chuckled. \"I guess you just looked too desperate for you to be lying. Plus, what's there to lose in checking this out?\"\n\n\"I dunno...\"\n\n\"Exactly! That fat bastard's just a lazy man. His job is to make sure everyone's safe here, and he didn't even care about your problem. Worse case scenario, you're just wasting my time. We get to the A/C control room and everything's normal.\"\n\n\"Actually,\" said Joseph, \"in these circumstances, I think that's the best case scenario.\"\n\nOfficer Wilfery laughed and said:\n\n\"Yeah, you're right. I guess I'm just a kid inside a grown man's body.\"\n\n\"Really? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Well, the fact that, potentially, people's lives are at stake and I'm here hoping for a chance to show off. Save the day and stuff. I've always wanted to be a hero, ya' know? It's why I took this job, it's why I'm aiming to be a cop, and it's why I felt right in listening to you.\"\n\nJoseph opened his mouth to say something, but Wilfery raised his arm to stop him in his tracks. Dragging the boy and crouching behind an empty cardboard box, the security guard looked at Joseph and whispered:\n\n\"I think you were right all along.\" He carefully pointed beyond the box. \"The air vent system's door can only be locked from the outside, and the door's wide open. Let's move...\"\n\nJoseph nodded and silently followed him along. Stopping on the frame of the door, they looked inside the control room and saw a solitary gray-bearded man, tinkering with a canister. Leaning forward, Joseph focused on the man's cause of death. \"Heart attack\" said the letters above his head, in a light-red color. This man wasn't dying anytime soon, but maybe they could still stop him. Unfortunately, Joseph sighed and lost his balance, falling over his crouch and landing in the middle of the open door. \n\nThe bearded man was instantly startled, turning around with a gun in his hand and saying:\n\n\"W-who are you? What are you doing here?!?\"\n\n-------------------------------------------\n\nContinued in a comment below", "Every day, I wake up, open the curtains and go look in the mirror. There is just me. I always hope for a little more, to see the words \"Peaceful death\". Pain is terrifing for me. I'm reminded of that when my mother calls me to eat and, for a split second, I see above her head the words \"Burning in a fire\". I don't know when that will be and that is why I always listen to her, do what she says, hug her and tell her how much I love her. I am a 16 year old boy and my behavior looks strange to my friends and classmates, but they have no idea what I know.\n\n\"I missed you.\" This is Maya, my girlfriend. She has brown hair, black eyes and dimples in her cheeks. That's what I like about her, the dimples. Her way of dying? Peaceful in her sleep. There is always something soothing in seeing those words. She is destined to have a happy life. I take her hand and smile. I hope to be by her side.\n\n\"Hey, moron!\" This is not Maya. It's her best friend, Marnie. I don't know why Maya and her are friends. Marnie is so different than her. She's blonde, blue eyes, no dimples in her cheeks and a complete dickhead. Doesn't like me very much. I can see why. Since 2 months ago, when Maya and I first kissed, she spent more and more time with me and less with her. I wish she liked my best friend, Ari. Then we could just double date and Marnie would have something else to do than to come between me and Maya. How she dies? Well, here things are a little bit complicated. I don't know how, but I know who does it. I see above her head a name. You see, that's the thing with my \"gift\". If people die of old age or in an accident or from some disease, I know what kills them, but if they are murdered, I find out who kills them.\n\n\"Did you tell your parents I'm spending New Year with you?\" In 3 days a new year will start for us. 1939.\n\n\"Of course I did, Maya.A week ago. My mother was so happy.\" We have the biggest house in the neighborhood and my mother invites all of our neighbors every year. This was a very special holiday for us, the Berkowitz. \n\nIt's the last minute of the year. Maya and I are already looking in each others eyes for about 5 minutes and everyone smiles when they see us. \n\n\"5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Happy New Year!\" I close my eyes and I kiss the love of my life. I'm happy.\n\nA few seconds later I open my eyes and I become pale and start to shiver. Everyone, including Maya, now have the same cause of death written above their heads: \"Hitler\". \n", "Today was Hector Pryor's final day of work. The weight of his responsibilities fell from his shoulders, only to be replaced with the weight of his vest. He zipped his coat over it and evaluated himself in the mirror. His hair was unkempt, his face greasy, and even his mirror image reeked of unwashed grime. But it didn't matter today, and the subway was approaching, so he shuffled from his apartment as a heap of dirt.\n\nValoCorp was a ticking time bomb. Their corporate office was packed with more suits than a tuxedo rental. They sizzled and sparked and bounced off walls and into each another, producing streams of bureaucratic lingo and rehearsed formalities. Hector clung to the metro rail and shook the vision of their stock photo smiles from his head. His plan resurfaced in his head: he would walk into his boss's office, hand over his resignation, and leave. Then he would climb onto the meeting table, bend over and give them all a good mooning, and watch the sparks fly.\n\nThe subway tripped over a bump, sending a man in a ragged shirt and tattered jeans careening into Hector's side. Gripped by panic, Hector swiveled the other direction, out of the man's way. Thankfully, nothing appeared to have been broken or dislocated. \n\n\"Whoops,\" the man said, \"sorry, bro.\" He pulled himself up and began to rap to the beat inside his head.\n\nHector scowled. He wouldn't miss the commute, that was for sure. It was full of loonies: the freestyle rappers, the drug dealers, the change collectors. The actors changed by the day, but the roles stayed the same, as did their inability to respect virtues like personal space or peace and quiet. What, he thought, did their mothers teach them, if not that?\n\nThe rapper's eyes widened. \"Hey, wait.\" Stooping over, he pulled Hector's sleeve, and brought his lips up to his ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. \"You need to get off this train.\" \n\nHector wrenched his arm out of his grasp. \"Please leave me alone.\"\n\n\"You don't understand.\" The rapper pointed to his head. \"I can see things. Everyone here's going to die. There's a bomb on this train.\"\n\nHector scoffed and turned to face the window, watching the tunnel zip by. This guy couldn't possibly know; crazy just bred coincidence. The reflection of the rapper threw his head back in disgust. He turned to the aisle and waved his hands in the air. \"Everyone needs to get off this train, now!\" The man began to pull hapless passengers from their seats.\n\nA metro employee bustled over to him and restrained him, pressing back into the subway door. Locked in her hold, the man wriggled all four of his limbs, screaming at her. \"You don't understand! I can see things!\"\n\n\"We all can, bud,\" she said, tilting her head pointedly.\n\n\"Everyone here is going to die. There's a bomb on this train. We need to stop this train now.\"\n\n\"Sir, it's ten minutes until the next stop, and we ain't stopping shit just because you decided to take a trip to comic book land today.\" The employee let him go, but despite her doubt, she barked something into her two-way. Boots clattered from the other end of the train, and two more employees emerged from the booth in the back. Dread and nonchalance fought within Hector's stomach. Fare checkers, he thought hopefully, but if they were, they were either really thorough or really touchy.\n\nWhen they got to him, they looked him up and down, disarming him with their eyes. He could feel their stares appraising every bit of dirt clinging to each one of his pores. \"I'm going to need you take off that jacket for me, sir,\" one said. The look on his face suggested he'd take it off for Hector if necessary.\n\nHector jammed his hands into his pockets. His plan had been upset, and by the craziest of crazies, but either way, he was retiring today. He clicked the button, and fire burst from his chest." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 6, 15, 17, 42, 107 ]	[ "1471616283", "1471641641", "1471691154", "1471653959", "1471656248", "1471631118", "1471630071", "1471630835", "1471625530", "1471630782", "1471622524" ]
	[WP] You are Repunzel and you just escaped your tower. As you walk to the edge of the grassy field you find that you have only escaped one level of your prison.	28	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "The escape from the tower itself was rather straightforward, once certain circumstances allowed for it. There was a local legend of Rapunzel, a trapped and fair maiden, who would richly reward anyone who could rescue her from her miserable tower prison. A nearby Prince, insufficiently primogenital for his ambitions and bored by his very diplomatic lounging around inside his estates, was taking a walk farther out into the wilderness than most days on account of this legend when he came across the tower. \n\nThe poor desperate Prince was quick to dash up Rapunzel's blonde tresses but slow to realise how he came to be left up there when the grounded Princess retreated away, neatly wrapping her hair into place. Having been kept captive for so long, she wasn't ready for another relationship just yet. \n\nAs soon as her thoughts strayed from the Prince - who was now alone and feeling increasingly neglected in the tower, there awaited one more challenge for Rapunzel. The treeline thickened around her as the bracken and bush covering the forest floor rose to cover her ankles, then her knees and finally her whole height. She emerged and faced a desolate and impassable stretch of ditch whose expanse covered her whole sight from left to right. Nothing could grow taller than a fox on either bank, and the ditch floor was a rotten, scabby mess of seething orange swamp.\n\nAppearing like a flame from the swamp was an apparition. Formless, faceless and without countenance, the apparition was thus:\n\n\"Rapunzel, you are aware that you have acquired some fame in the world. Now you have escaped your former boundaries. The physical dimensions that once hemmed you in are now disregarded. If you wish to go any further, you must be willing to embrace pure freedom and disregard your own self. Cut your hair, disguise yourself, and regard yourself as Rapunzel never again. Only then may you step into the villages and towns of society. Your other choice is to keep your name, keep your identity, and turn around and take up your former comfortable room in the tower.\n\nThe choice is yours\"\n\nRapunzel breathed in ever so slightly, and considered her decision.", "Rapunzel whipped her hair, the knot at the end coming loose from the hook in her room.\nIt will be a pain to get rid of the knot but her escape was more important than her hair. Finally free of her prison, she ran barefoot through the grass, arms outstretched. The air felt so much better on the ground, the lightness and chill remained the same, but freedom gave it a different taste. No longer would she have to breathe that stale air in the tower.. Ahead, she noticed there must be a hill, as she didn't see anything beyond it for a moment. She finally drew closer, and came to a stop. The air started to taste stale once more as she looked across the land below her, down the sheer cliff she stood on. Determined, she followed the cliff hoping to find a way down. After about an hour, she noticed she was back in the same spot, atop the plateau that was her prison. Rapunzel slowly gathered her hair, and began to brush the knot out. Once more she began to sing, as she did for many years atop her tower, crying.", "Robotic dragonflies zip by and survey the land, and the eyes of real living trees follow Rapunzel. She quickly realizes she is under tight security, that every move she makes is being watched. \n\nBeing smarter than the average princess, Rapunzel decides to act as if she has accepted her fate, and lays in the green grass enjoying the sun and breeze. \n\nTime passes and she is still sitting, devising. Slowly a storm begins to roll over. The trees catch wind and their faces give expressions as if the trees are making an effort to stand up straight. What began as a slight drizzle and gloomy clouds, turns into furious rain and roaring wind. \n\nRapunzel's long, golden hair becomes saturated and heavy with water. She looks over the hill ahead, where there is a tall wooden fence with thorns up top and an opening where there are two armored guards. \n\nShe concludes that either she has to go back inside or the storm will continue to ravage her. Rapunzel begins toward her tower once again until she sees a fluffy bush of aloe. Rapunzel smirks and grabs all the aloe leaves she can. She breaks leaves and squeezes them into her bound up hair one after the other. Quickly she removes her hair ties and tosses her soapy hair as far as she can over the hill.\n\nRapunzel jumps up as high as she can and lands on her smooth, soapy hair. She slides down and flies right past the guards. \n\nBeyond this point is a dark forest. The guards try to find her, but she escapes them. However, Rapunzel is soon to find out that she isn't quite free yet..." ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 3 ]	[ "1471620319", "1471643220", "1471631179", "1471626748" ]
[WP]No matter how much money you spend it keeps coming back, with interest.	[WP]No matter how much money you spend it keeps coming back with interest.	4	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Twist: you are dirt poor. You get drunk and an old man talks to you. You tell him that you hate being poor and that you want to be rich. He gives you an atm card and mentions $999000 (or any arbitrary number). You pass out.\n\nWhen you wake up you think it was a dream. you check your atm and it has $1. The atm charges you $1 for the balance inquiry transaction. In return, you get $2. You try this a few more times and realize that each time you spend money, double of what you spend gets magically deposited in your atm.\n\nYou do some binge shopping, happy with your change of luck. You buy stuff, food at first then clothes and the list goes on and on. \n\nJust when it seems that life is good and youre finally happy, you meet the old man again during another drunken episode (or pwrhaps randomly in one od your shopping sprees). He tells you, have you spent your money wisely? And you answer: what does it matter? I can never run out of money.\n\nHe says: when your money reaches the limit, you will die. You ask him, what is the limit. He says: i already told you, try to remember it. \n\nFrom that point on, you are afraid to spend anymore since you never know when you might hit the \"limit\". \n\nIm effect, you are worse now even though you are rich compared to when you were poor. \n\nGives new meaning to: money cant buy happiness." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471621740", "1471633031" ]
	[WP] Elon Musk is convinced that we live in a simulation, so he constructs the largest cluster bomb in history and sets it off in space. For the first time, MilkyWay.exe lags.	4,647	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "> No one even noticed the lag, since we are all running from within milkyWay.exe and therefore cannot observe it. We all keep living on as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.... all except for Elon, who had wasted his entire fortune on this experiment. Elon is still convinced that the bomb wasn't quite big enough. HE spends the remainder of his life in and out of mental institutions and trying to raise funds for another \"test\". \n\n\nThen Tommy Westphall sat down the snowglobe and walked into the kitchen.", "I was glued to the television, everyone was. The news reporters were talking about the detonation for days now. \"It will be like strapping one hundred tsar bombs together.\" \nI quit work weeks ago and joined the y2k.v2 club. We knew it's not the same but we all agreed the world will definitely end this time. We all posted our 2 cents worth of what will happen and how we'll meet our maker.\nFinally the day came when \"the cataclysm\" will be set off, we are all nerds after all, what else would we call it. Finally, 5,4,3,2,1....what do you know, you can't hear an explosion in space. \n\nAaaand then I fell. \n\nOk, by fell I didn't mean my crappy apartment got nuked and now I'm falling like a rag doll, I just fell, through. I looked up to see the bottom of the building fly up and all around me, all my neighbours, also, falling. You could see the distinct subway tunnels through nothingness and the irregularities in the earth. It's as if the world only exists where we are looking at it, not everywhere. And then the silence of the fall is broken by the biggest error message \"unexpected error has occurred\" and everything turned blue.", "I know this isn't a story reply but since this is 13 days later I hope the mods allow it... if they even see it.\n\n************************************\n\nSo OP... did you feel MilkyWay.exe lag today?", "\"Right there,\" Sebastian's paw pointed at the monitor as it flickered brightly in the darkened control room. \"This is when our system resources actually hit 100% for the first time. Only for a second or so though.\"\n\n\"Was it the CPU or the memory?\" asked a voice behind him.\n\n\"Well it was first CPU and then the memory doing a dynamic dump. Anyways, some human tech CEO named Elon Musk is trying to prove they live in the Matrix hehe.\"\n\n\"What about the corgis? Are all the corgis all right?\" \n\n\"Virtual snack levels went down by 9% but other than that we've been letting them snack while their virtual selves are sleeping.\"\n\n\"What about their pet humans? Do they believe this Musk character?\"\n\n\"His personality cult has been growing steadily. The council may need to send Delta Corgis after him if he keeps this up.\"\n\n\"Good work Sebastian. Let me know if there are any new developments. Make sure the media center tightens up the messaging so that nothing gets out of hand. Oh and here's some Korean fried chicken, straight out of our test labs. I figured you'd want to be one of the first to try it.\"\n\n\"Are those one of the new things the humans have recently invented so that we could use their creativity to create our own snacks??? PUT IT IN MY MOUF!!\"", "This reminds me of \"I have no Mouth but I must Scream,\" the video game version.\n\nBasically, the people who made AM created a failsafe that it was basically a software that simulates \"Entropy\" where causes everything to speed up time to the point that everything becomes inert junk, thus crashing AM into a mind of a brick.\n\nSo if Musk wants to go chaotic evil, he would develop a bomb of entropy that causes the simulation to speed up time to the point that everything in existence would cease to exist becoming inert junk. Have a nice day!", "Peter wrung his hands just offstage, awaiting his introduction. What he was about to reveal would be reviewed by scientists the world over as the first significant clue as to the nature of The Glitch.\n\nI had been nearly twenty years since Musk's disappearance. At the time, the rumor mill had run wild. Some believed he fled to avoid world government influence over the interpretation of what, precisely, had happened. Others believed he had been abducted. As it had turned out, the one who had given the most accurate guess had been the late Billy Gibbons, of ZZ Top fame, no stranger to disappearing acts himself. \"Sometimes, you just see some shit that requires some time to figure out,\" Gibbons had said. Indeed, when Musk reappeared four years after The Glitch, he was sporting a beard almost to his navel.\n\nIf Musk had let on what his isolation had revealed, it was reflected in the new direction of his studies and corporate endeavors. Tesla Motors had been sold to Alphabet. SpaceX had halted most of its testing and had gone into a quiet state, as \"internal realignments\" quietly shuffled scientists and engineers from department to department, while a hiring freeze had fueled whispers of cash flow issues. Years later, SpaceX's core promise had gone unrealized and people were as tired of speculating as to its internal issues as they were about wondering whether Walt Disney was really being held in cryogenic suspension under the Pirates of the Caribbean ride.\n\nMusk himself had turned his attentions to Helix Squared, a holding company of his own founding that had quietly but quickly acquired four small biotech firms based in different parts of the world. For years, people wondered whether Helix Squared was investing in bioengineering, DNA research, disease eradication or some other noble pursuit. Peter knew that the news he was about to deliver would merely give the rumor mill some fresh fuel.\n\nThree years ago, a small boy had been swept off a lifeguard-less beach in Hawaii by a huge rip current. Witnesses claimed he had been pulled back to shore by a young dolphin or porpoise, which had not only risked its own beaching to save the boy's life, but had miraculously pressed forward when beach goers had failed to pull him to shore once the animal had brought him to the shallows and he had been swept away a second time. \"Guardian Angel\" was the headline the next day in the New York Post.\n\nWeeks later, a little-noticed story ran in The Guardian about a coalition of biologists based in Portugal, who had put forth the radical notion that dolphins they had captured were showing such marked behavioral differences from other captive dolphins that they deserved their own species designation. They termed them \"Golfhinomem.\" The movement to treat dolphins as non-human persons gained traction in a few coastal countries, but went largely unconsidered in the U.S.\n\nAs Peter approached the podium, he wondered nervously to himself whether short attention spans would permit him to provide the narrative that knit these seemingly irrelevant details together with what he believed to be the nature of The Glitch.\n\n\"Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the press, and the scientific community,\" Peter began, \"Helix Squared has a new theory concerning the nature of The Glitch, which we will share presently. But in order to do so, we must discuss the full-page letter of support that ran in today's Edition of The New York Times.\n\n\"As we expressed in the ad, Helix Squared supports the designation of a new species for the life form now commonly referred to as Golfhinomem. Working in a manner consistent with the strictest bioethics codes the world over, we have sequenced its genome and studied it extensively, both at the genetic level and by observing this species in the wild and in captivity. We have come to understand three very important facts about this life form.\"\n\nA reporter in the second row audibly sighed. Others shifted uncomfortably on their feet, standing along the back wall.\n\n\"First and foremost,\" Peter continued, \"this life form has, through no action or influence of Helix Squared, evolved significantly differentiated capacity for higher brain function, including development of areas of the brain supporting higher thinking that are not present to this extent in other animals, including humans. In short, the potential of this life form to out-think human beings is a scientific certainty.\"\n\n\"W-What do you mean?\" gasped someone in the first row. \"These dolphins are smarter than us? Smarter than hum-\"\n\n\"Please hold all questions,\" Peter snapped. \"Secondly, in sequencing their DNA and in subsequent field studies, we have observed a behavioral trait that appears to be engrained - hard-coded - into Golfhinomem's DNA. It is a reverence for life it that appears to apply to all high-thinking, sentient creatures. The significance of this will be evident in a moment.\"\n\n\"Finally, Golfinomem's divergence from the Common Bottlenose Dolphin appears to have occurred in an unprecedentedly short period of time, and in a way that gives it only questionable advantages over similar species in terms of competition for food and well-being. Quite simply, this life form did not evolve. At least not in the way we understand evolution to work.\"\n\n\"Now, Peter continued, \"Helix Squared, under the leadership of Mr. Musk, believes that we, along with the rest of the scientific community, must realign its approach to understanding The Glitch. Specifically, we should consider the notion that the anomalies observed in the immediate wake of The Glitch were not technological or physical in nature. Rather, they were biological.\"\n\n\"Mr. Musk asks that we consider that the location of the explosion was at least as significant as its magnitude. The Glitch occurred mere moments after detonating a massive explosion in an area of the universe that we now understand to be a birthplace of stars and star systems. Its detonation destroyed the potential for many new star systems to take shape, and in the context of the universe's ongoing cycle of destruction and rebirth, our actions may have had incalculable effects on the ability of new life-supporting systems to take shape. We should consider what that impact may be on our own corner of the universe. I will take no further questions at this time.\"\n\nWith that, Peter walked off the stage and was whisked by a conservatively-dressed woman from his PR team to a room down a long corridor behind the presentation area. She sat him across from an ancient gentleman wearing a quirky bow tie and an unfathomable smile.\n\n\"Now,\" said the old man. \"How do we explain this in English?\"\n\nPeter shuddered.\n\n\"It's worse than we think,\" he said as he shook his head. \"To understand this, people need to understand that the universe didn't create life - it's the other way around.\"\n\nThe old man in the bow tie nodded. \"Ah, yes. I seem to recall that this line of thinking was supported by quantum physics theorists a couple decades back.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Peter nodded. \"In destroying so much potential for life - in violating so many of the parameters life set out for itself - life has broken its own creation.\"\n\n\"And the dolphins?\"\n\n\"-Tursiops Superior,\" Peter corrected.\n\n\"Yes, that would seem to be appropriate...\"\n\n\"They're the response. Life's little course correction, if you will.\"\n\nThe man in the bow tie smiled again. An awkward pause ensued.\n\n\"So, what you're asking me to do is to explain to the rest of the world how, within in a relatively short period of time, humans may no longer be the dominant species on the planet.\"\n\nPeter nodded.\n\n\"And you want me to do it in a way that keeps people from stringing Musk up by his toes?\"\n\nPeter took a deep breath and brought his gaze up to meet that of the skinny old man in the bow tie.\n\n\"Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do,\" he sighed. \"As you've been able to do for so many years.\"\n\nWith that, the young woman from the PR department appeared at the old man's side, to help him out of his chair. As he struggled upright, he visibly winced. \"You know, I'm much better with physics than I am with biological topics.\"\n\n\"What's the difference?\" asked Peter.", "The gun was held against Elon Musk's temple. The small party room that he had reserved for this momentous occasion was full of smoke and armed men. His guests were all laying down, their hands on their heads, complaint with the intruders. Elon Musk however was not feeling so cooperative. \"Have you any idea what you are preventing? How dare you storm into my party, interrupt my greatest work. If this is a shakedown, you will get nothing.\"\n\nA sharp raspy voice cut him off, \"you are so brilliant but you fail to see the folly of your ways. We are not a band of two-bit criminals. We are the only hope of this universe. You in your quest for supremacy have set in motion a chain of events that may very well lead to the destruction of us all.\"\n\nWithout a moments hesitation the billionaire snapped back \"The cluster bomb is far away from Earth. The explosion will not have any effect on our world. Did you think I would not think this through?\" His voice was brimming with anger.\n\n\"I know you did not think this through. You proposed an idea that we lived in a simulation. You believed it so fully that you set about the only way you could think of too prove it. You designed a project to cause a lag in the simulation, but did you think of the effects of such a lag.\"\n\nHis anger was blinding, he could not hold his tongue any longer, \"of course I considered the effects. My team and I have poured over the plans and theories endlessly. If the simulation is true, then the lag, while observable to our equipment will not have any devasting effects on us. A millionth of a millisecond stop in the progression of the universe will not destroy us. We are part of the simulation, we will not feel it, most of us will not even know.\"\n\n\"Most of us. Most of us. MOST OF US. But what about the ones who will know. IF WE EXIST IN A SIMULATION THEN CAN IT NOT BE THEORIZED THAT THERE EXIST SOMETHING OUTSIDE OF SAID SIMULATION THAT DESIGNED IT. SOMETHING THAT OBSERVES AND MONITORS IT. WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN WHEN IT SEES THE LAG? WHAT DO YOU THINK A PROGRAMMER WILL DO WHEN IT NOTICES A BUG IN THE SYSTEM?\" The mask covering the voice was quickly removed by a swift hand. \n\nElon Musk's eyes went wide as he felt a chill run down his spine. \"The programmer may try to debug the program, or even possibly initiate a hard reset.\" He suddenly found himself at a loss for words as he tried to make sense of the man before him. \n\nThe man who had removed his mask took out a small rectangular device and pressed a button. A [famous hum](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZ1mpI01evk) played as light began to bend and warp around the device. Steve Jobs lowered the gun from Elon's head and threw it to the ground. He grabbed the billionaire Elon by the shoulder, and as light began to coalesce and dance around the pair he said \"it's time to modify the simulation and once again save this universe.\"", "\"Shouldn't you ask your other grandpa, Steve about this?\" Joe shifted in the hospital linens.\n\n\"My teacher's assignment was to find out what it like to have lived through the lag-time, grandpa Steve geeks out about it to much. Besides, I want to talk to you.\" Joe's grand daughter Melinda shifted in the chair next to his hospital bed. A shaft of harsh sunlight cutting through the closed curtains gave her auburn hair a golden halo. It was Joe decided to snapshot the moment and endured the momentary painful cognitive latency as reality's systems dealt with the extra computational load.\n\n\"Okay. For you kid,\" Joe let his head loll back on the hospital bed pillow. \n\n\"So, I remember. That Musk guy. He made some big speech the day that rocket launched. I don't really remember what he said. Stuff about how this would be a big friggin' deal.\n\nThe geeks were freaking out about it on the internet I guess. I didn't really notice at the time. I was just doing my daily grind. This was back before ... \" Joe paused and looked meaningfully at Melinda \"... before we found out what people like me could do. Back then, guys like me were a dime a dozen. Most of us had no idea that what the fella Musk was doing would open the door for run of the mill guys like me.\n\nSo what I remember that you kids probably don't think about was after those big explosions pretty much nothing happened right away. Musk was gettin' made fun of a lot for having wasted his fortune on a dumb shit ... er ... silly ...\"\n\n\"It's okay grandpa, I'm 13 I can handle a cuss word, just tell your story.\"\n\n\"... heh. Yeah you say that but your mother will play this back later.\" Joe's daughter was very over protective and tried hard to compensate for the rough upbringing she had as the child of a Lagger. Joe wasn't the nice and refined kind of Lagger that used his abilities for nifty inventions or reality warping scientific breakthroughs, Joe was the kind of Lagger that was good with a BFG... and not the friendly kind.\n\n\"So, yeah. Okay. Right off for about a day or so folks were laughing pretty hard because nothing seemed to happen. Now, this is the part I don't understand... are you sure* you don't want to hear from grandpa Steve about this? He's the one who worked with computers and understands what the hell happened ...\"\n\n\"No, really. I want to hear from you. Just tell me what happened to you grandpa.\"\n\n\"... well, so that's when some of us remember two different versions of history. Some of us remember one version of August 20th, some remember another, and some remember two.\n\nI don't understand understand how it works or why. But I started remembering two versions of everything... and... I could pick one. I could pick which version I wanted.\"\n\n\"So you can pick which future you want?\" Melinda asked.\n\n\"No. Not exactly. I could pick from one of two versions of an event. At first I didn't even realize I was doing it. It felt like ... it felt like having a premonition or just wishing really hard. But, I couldn't control exactly what would happen. It was like I would see one of two possibilities and hope really hard on one or the other. Your grandpa Steve called it something jurisdiction or something.\"\n\n\"Reality Adjudication. Yeah. Grandpa Steve always goes on about it. He can't do it himself but he just goes on and on about it.\" Melinda chuckled.\n\n\"That guy's smart as hell. Well, I don't know that much about how it works but it has something to do with how the whole galaxy lagged for a moment. Something about how all of the real world was normally all synced up like a good server with low lag. Then when those bombs went off in that precise shape the created a lag that kept producing more lag that kept bouncing around like an echo and some people, like me, got stuck in that and we get to pick what's really right about the world now because of it.\"\n\n\"Kind of makes you like a Greek God or something doesn't it?\" Melinda chuckled.\n\n\"Well, I don't think of it like that. I was always big into gaming and once I figured out that's what it was... well... some of us gamers knew how to use lag to cheat. Basically, look like you dodged a bullet or glitch through a wall. Stuff like that. And, I was an awesome gamer and really knew how to use glitchy games to my advantage in multiplayer mode.\"\n\nJoe smirked, \"So I cheated. I cheated at life like hell. That Musk guy handed dudes like me the keys to the kingdom... man. What a time we had before the normies figured out what the hell we were doing!\"", "Musk retires in shame, wasting the fortunes of the world. Since we're also simulated, our consciences also lagged and nothing was noticed by anything, except some universe research assistant out in the real universe noticed something was wrong, so just rebooted our server. The simulation was reset, feeding different random noise into the universe generator, and was back to the same time in a few hours.", "\"O God, there seems to be a problem with the registry.\"\n\n Lisa, frantically looked around her to see if anyone was watching her. \"What did I do!\" she whimpered.\n\nLisa's first day as an intern at VP Corp was not going well, her supervisor had already gotten onto her about plugging up her phone to the CPU. \n\nThe confrontation from earlier that day quickly played back in Lisa's head.\n\n\"What the hell is wrong with you!\" Jobe yanked the phone from the CPU simultaneously. \"Have you already forgotten orientation?!\" Jobe tried his best to keep his voice down but it was to late, the nearby employees began looking in their direction. \n\nJobe looked to his left, \"Interns.\" he smiled. Jobe quickly wheeled his computer chair out of view from the exit towards Lisa's desk.\n\n\"Now you listen here,\" said Jobe. \"If I ever catch you plugging any unapproved device in one of my computers again I will make sure you never work here as an intern or EMPLOYEE.\"\n\n\"You feel me?\" Jobe stared long and hard into Lisa's eyes then quickly rolled over to his station.\n\n\"I knew better.\" thought Lisa. She sat there frozen in time, one more major mistake could cost her career at VP Corp.\n\nJOBE TO LEVEL THREE! JOBE TO LEVEL THREE!\n\nLisa snapped out of her day dream from the intercom.\n\n\"What the hell, I thought they said in orientation that the PA system was never to be used.\" Lisa quickly realized that she may have done something to have triggered a panic. She quickly pulled up her terminal window to insure nothing was loading onto her desktop or worse the servers. \n\n\"OK, I am all good here this can't be on my end,\" Lisa thought.\nLisa was on level three, she could see Jobe entering the conference room through the large glass windows.\n\nJobe looked panicked, he paced back and forth with his right hand on his head and his left hand against his chest. It looked as if someone just informed him of a death in the family.\n\n\"What the hell is going on, I have to make sure I am good,\" said Lisa. She quickly pulled up all the terminals on all the computers, she had to make sure it was not her problem.\n\n\"OK, I need to go over each terminal.\" Lisa thought. Lisa pulled up the command window and began initiating the following commands.\n\ntop Displays active processes. Press q to quit\ncd\tHome directory\ncd [folder]\tChange directory e.g. cd documents\ncd /\tRoot of drive\ncd -\tPrevious directory\nls\tShort listing\nls -l\tLong listing\nls -a\tListing incl. hidden files\nls -lh\tLong listing with Human readable file sizes\nls -R\tEntire content of folder recursively\n\n\"Everything looks OK dammit, why is MilkyWay.exe not responding in the registry.\" Lisa thought. She looked up into the conference room again, this time Jobe was hunched over a small laptop with dozens of what appeared to be executives behind him.\n\nThey all seemed very entranced, lost for words as Jobe frantically was attempting access or stop something. \n\n\"What WAS it though.\" Lisa thought.\n\nSlowly the office began murmuring as one computer after another begun shutting down remotely.\n\n\"Jobe must be resetting the computer's,\" Lisa thought. \n\nAs each computer shutdown the employees decided to stand up in their perspective cubicles and converse. The noise in the office began getting louder and louder to the point where it sounded like a cafeteria during lunch break in Junior High. \n\nLisa did not know anyone here, it was after all her first day. She sat there staring at her black screen, no one noticed her there as everyone was mingling amongst themselves.\n\nBEEEEP\n\nThe computer Jobe was working on came to life. Lisa quickly turned to see a single white blinking line on the top left of the screen. \n\nCautiously she looked up again to notice Jobe unmoved working frantically on the small laptop with now what seemed dozens more executives behind him. Lisa slowly rolled over to Jobes computer.\n\n\"Jobe you silly old man, mirror image on the PC is still active,\" Lisa thought. She thought about turning the monitor off but that required \"tampering\" with his equipment.\n\n\"Well I don't wanna do that,\" she thought sarcastically. She sat their watching the commands being typed across the screen.\n\nclose ~/Desktop/VP.exe\n\nopen ~/Desktop/VP.exe\nerror ~file unknown\n\nopen ~/Desktop/VP.exe\nerror ~/file unknown\n\nclose ~/MilkyWay.exe _\n\nThe cursor blinked beside the command prompt which indicated it had not been initiated yet. \n\n\"O, God, he can't possibly think that is the best outcome,\" she said. The problem can't possibly be this severe, Lisa thought.\n\nLisa looked up at Jobe, his hand was wrapped around his eyes and the executive's hand was on his right shoulder.\n\n\"Jobe,\" said the man resting his hand on Jobes shoulder. \n\n\"We never have had such a latency length before, if we don't reset it now we could lose the entire file,\" said the man. \"At least we can salvage what data we do have.\"\n\n\"I understand that but what if it's JUST a latency issue,\" said Jobe. \"The issue will resolve ITSELF.\"\n\n\"We can't take any chances, this has never happened before. It is impossible for it to have originated on their end,\" said the man. \n\nJobe never liked this man, this wouldn't be the first wipe and wouldn't be the last call made by him. \n\n\"Sir, if you do this the public will not let the program continue to stand. They will surely demand your resignation or even the company's closure,\" said Jobe.\n\nThe man sternly poked Jobe in the chest and says gritting through his teeth \"I understand the business side, you understand the technical side, let me handle my side of the job. EXECUTE THE COMMAND.\"\n\nJobe quickly stands up to face the man while slamming his laptop shut and says, \"If you want to do it then do it, I am done with this company.\"\n\nJobe slings his laptop against the glass shattering it into pieces, the glass vibrates erratically. Dozen's of employees turn to face the conference room.\n\nLisa stared blankly at the screen, the command was still there waiting to be executed. The cursor blinking in all its glory.\n\nclose ~/MilkyWay.exe _\n\n\"I can DO this,\" Lisa thought. \n\n\"This is the RIGHT way,\" Lisa thought.\n\nLisa pulled the keyboard closer to her and erased close ~/MilkyWay.exe.\n\n\"What will THEY think of me,\" Lisa said.\n\nLisa slowly typed the commands.\n\nopen ~/Desktop/VP/Safemode.exe\n\n-awaiting command\n\nopen ~/MilkyWay.exe\n\n-awaiting command\n\n~/awaken.exe_\n\n", "Elon Musk felt the weight of the tusk\nthat had stole from Hemingway.\nArsenal in hand, and an energy-saving mini-van.\ndid Musk seek Heard to marry.\n\nEnergy saved, yet no onclave staved\ncould bury young maiden fair,\nbut an energy meet and a chance to defeat\na billionaire's chance to be square.\n\nAn acid trip or maybe a rip on a story which had been told\nThe irony lies in the verses supplied of those of Jack himself\nTake advice when I say that there is no way that \nElon himself would sway\n\nA Musk in the hand worth two in a bush\nis what a wise man might say.\n\nA poem about how DUMB Elon Musk is. \n\n\n", "\"Alright boys, It's time to set this baby off.\" Elon asked for the detonation device. Once handed to him, he takes a deep breath. The pressing of a single button would determine the success of his publicity, the funding he received, but more than anything else, his ideals. \"3...2...1...\" his voice rang loud and clear for all spectators. *click* the button decompresses, and all eyes point to a single point near the horizon line. A bright flash emanates and expands all over the sky. To the coder that programmed, the simulation truly did lag. In fact, the simulation almost ran out of resources to continue running. But to Elon and the crew? The event went on as unhindered, as it was their folly for believing they could observe the simulation stutter while being elements ran inside the simulation. ", "The bomb went off, and everyone on earth felt a ripple, like time froze for just a second, as if the \"frames per second\" of life dropped into the 30s, but only the PC master race noticed at first, but slowly it dipped to the 20s, then 10s, life was unplayable, 0/10 IGN. The screen froze and turned black soon after\n\nJohn, I told you we should've gotten more VRAM for future proofing! This is why we can't spend all our budget on the case!\n\nctl+alt+del\n\nend MilkyWay.exe\n\nNow we're gonna have to start all over again John.", "\"Hey, boss, could you take a look at this?\"\n\nRobert Fitch grunted as he heaved himself out of his chair in the observatory room. He liked that chair. It was the only particularly nice thing about the small room, in his opinion.\n\nRobert walked to the technician's station, where the right monitor was displaying a star chart and the left, a list of diagnostics. \n\n\"What's the problem?\"\n\n\"Sir, a bunch of stars just... shifted.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Here, I'll show you a replay.\" The technician opened the constant-recording program for the main lens, and played back from twenty seconds before. About a fifth of the stars jumped several degrees in random directions at eight seconds.\n\n\"What the fuck?\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"Get Hawaii on the phone. Ask them if they're seeing this too.\"\n\nTen phone call later, they'd confirmed that several other observatories had observed the phenomenon too. It seemed like it was just galaxies that had been part of the jump. Not only that, but they were looking different.\n\n\"Wait, they're saying turn on the TV, Elon Musk's on about something...\"\n\nRobert flicked the wall-mounted TV on and switched it to CNN. Elon Musk was indeed talking animatedly, apparently in a NASA press room.\n\n\"...so we've confirmed it! This fits one of the hypotheses we had perfectly. When the probes detonated, it seems the galaxy itself lagged, bringing it out of sync with the others. We can only assume they're on different servers to us.\n\nThis is the most concrete proof we've ever had that we're part of a simulation!\"\n\nElon continued to talk, visibly excited.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBlas was caught off guard when the simulation lagged. They'd been assured it was bulletproof after the latest update. \n\nTypical IT behaviour, he thought. They'll tell you whatever you want to hear. It was his own fault for trusting the programmers.\n\nNo point telling them anyway - what would it achieve? More rushed updates and barely-patched bugs, that's what.\n\nHe brought up the bug-report template, then paused. Should he really do it? There had been enough bug reports already, too many really, and this was a semi-major one. One that could signal processing limits. One that could get the program branded as another wasteful, problematic government research project and shut down.\n\nNo, he decided after a minute. He wanted to keep his job, thank you very much. But he'd have to fix this before someone noticed.\n\nWhat had caused the simulation to lag, anyway? He brought up the debugger and found a mass of particle-generation and -destruction routines. That must have been it.\n\nHe brought up the main sim window and found the source of the problem to be in one of the solar systems with sentients. What they had been trying to achieve was beyond him - someone with the appropriate degree would figure that out later.\n\nHe mulled it over and realised the objects that had caused the lag were still intact. A few sentient probes, by the looks of it. He mentally debated the issue until deciding to shut them down.\n\nWhat was something conceivable? He couldn't do anything obvious or his supervisors'd kill him. How about a chance electronics failure? A tiny solar flare! That was easily enough done. He did the job and made a note to explain it to the scientist when she came down for her weekly analysis. Surely she'd understand.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Sir, we just lost both probes. Electronic fault. It may have been a solar flare.\"\n\nThat was certainly a good, simple explanation - the probes were definitely close together enough - but Elon was set on a different explanation.\n\n\"They did their job. Good work, everybody. Core staff please stay behind, the rest of you can leave.\"\n\nAs the technicians filtered out, Elon smiled to himself.", "\"So are you taking this or not?\" The look Kimbal gave him was definitely saying: \"Do it, your ringtone is annoying\"\n\n\"..fine\" Said Elon pulling out his phone, \"This is going to be just a minute, don't wander off too far, I want you to finish that story\"\n\n\"Ok, Jerry, what's up?\" Said Elon into the phone covering it with his hand in an attempt to block out the noise from the party. \n\n\"Hey, Elon, you really need to see this\" Jerry's voice was shaking, but Elon couldn't tell if he was happy or scared.\n\n\"Jerry, can we do this tomorrow? Is this that important?\" Elon already started looking around for Kimbal, \n\nhe knew nothing is more important than the detonation of his bomb and this reception where he was about to give a speech on the initial results of the experiment.\n\n\"Elon, seriously? I'm calling from 7 time zones away, in the middle of your presentation and you have to ask?\"\n\nThis sounded convincing, especially given that 7 time zones away was 4am. Apparently Jerry did have reasons. \"Alright, what happened?\" asked Elon.\n\n\"You were right, Elon\" said Jerry proudly, like if it was him who was right, \"The particle you predicted does exist!\"\n\n\"The particle I predicted?\" Elon stopped looking for Kimbal and decided to step outside. \n\n\"Yes, well, technically I predicted it, but you gave the idea. Remember when you said that if you were to architect an infinite Universe, you would just make one finite instance, and then make it recursively be made of itself?\" Jerry was spitting words at Uzi rate and was definitely proud of himself.\n\n\"Yeah, I do remember this\" said Musk, \"But how is it related to a particle?\"\n\n\"That's the best part!\" Jerry obviously was waiting for this question \"The theory was that there should be similarities between the macro Universe and micro Universe. So we set up an experiment where we bombarded Uranium with neutrons in presence of Higgs bosons, and the expectation was that a Higgs anti-boson would appear\"\n\nElon felt like Jerry was skipping over some steps in his explanation for brevity, but in general it made sense. \"Ok, so?\" he asked.\n\n\"Well, we did observe something. Like 40 minutes ago, bosons just disappeared and we lost half of the mass of the uranium instantly. It must be the particle\". Elon gasped. He looked at his watch. 40 minutes ago was right at the time of the detonation. \"That's no particle Jerry. It's a glitch on microscopic scale, which may cause macro...\". Suddenly, all sounds disappeared, the black sky was ripped by a circle of uniform bright white light. This white patch was expanding with increasing speed, however, nothing on the ground was seem to be lit by it. In a few seconds the sky was white and tall buildings started to shrink as if they were cut by some white plane dropping down quickly...\n\n\n\nA pop up with a red exclamation sign appeared on the screen accompanied by a flurry of characters in the crash log:\n\n\n\n---- 14A07: Unhandled exception: Simulation stack overflow. Caused by instance: 0x2504807 (Universe) See nested exception description\n\nNested exception: 14A07: Unhandled exception: Simulation stack overflow. Caused by instance: 0x00008746:8D788FF712 (Elon Musk) See nested exception description\n\nNested exception: 64700: Unhandled exception: Custom: This exception is to track spontaneous Elon Musk instances in Milky Way cluster. See issue HKKDL_048872234 for possible solutions.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Something's wrong.\n\nI woke up this morning as per usual; alarm goes off at 7:30am, I stumble to the bathroom for my morning routine while my girlfriend stays in bed (she works late nights), and then after freshen up I put the coffee on. By the time I get back to the kitchen at about 7:50, the coffee's ready. Today, it wasn't. No big deal, I decide; I'll just take it to go today. \n\nThings started to get weird when I noticed that it was still dark outside.\n\nI check my calendar: July 17th. The sun should be out by now, ready to sear us all with its scorching July heat. But instead, the sky is as dark as night, as if the sun had just set. I make sure it's actually minutes to eight, and sure enough, it is. Curious, I go and turn on the television - muting it immediately so my girl can sleep - and turn it to the news. The first thing I see is this headline:\n\nMUSK DETONATES GIGANTIC BOMB IN SPACE - REALITY ALTERED DRASTICALLY\n\nMusk? Oh, right, that guy. SpaceX and what not. I'd heard he was planning something. I unmute the TV and put it to the lowest volume possible just as the report begins.\n\n\"--reports of a loud explosion above the Earth last night, preceded by a bright flash that illuminated the sky for about 8 minutes. Elon Musk, President of SpaceX and co-founder of Tesla Motors, has claimed responsibility for this bizarre event that seems to have had an impact on our very reality. He explained this in a video posted just a few hours ago...\"\n\nAm I going to be late to work? Maybe. But this is too good to miss. The South African-born entrepreneur appears on screen, explaining his latest feat in his smooth, accented voice:\n\n\"Some time ago, I postulated the possibility that we are living in a very complex simulation,\" he began. \"A simulation that is so real that we are essentially convinced that there is nothing else, no other explanation as to how we got here. I am here to tell you that it seems my hypothesis was correct. Last week, we launched Project Distortion, a test to see whether this simulation can be triggered into revealing itself, if only for a little bit. The project involved the building of an extremely large cluster bomb, one which, if detonated close enough to Earth, would extinguish all life on the planet...\"\n\nI tune out. A BOMB? What is this guy on? He wanted to test a silly theory by building a weapon of mass destruction? He's nuts. I keep watching.\n\n\"...the bomb was detonated at 12:00 Greenwich Mean Time, and at 12:04 GMT, we saw the indication of the simulation being real. We received reports of time literally staying still, or lagging heavily, in some parts of the world.\"\n\nso THAT'S why it's still dark outside... \n\nI turn the TV off, dumbfounded by what I'd just seen. This man, this... inventor, entrepreneur, whateverthefuck you want to call him, just did something unimaginable. he broke the fourth wall. everything we know to be real... is not. \n\nI have a feeling today's going to be very interesting.", "I felt it for only a moment.\n\nA tiny hesitation. A slight bump. As if I had blinked, but my eyes never closed. It lasted for a mere split second, almost imperceptible yet also impossible to ignore. As my brain reeled back to reality, I pressed my now cold hands to my clammy cheeks and absorbed my surroundings to be sure nothing was missing. Then I immediately emptied the contents of my stomach onto the floor in front of me.\n\nWhat the hell was that?!\n\nI heard my younger sister shout from down the hall, her hoarse voice betraying her own lack of intestinal fortitude against whatever had just happened to the entire world. The only response I could muster was a loud grunt, a mixture of frustration and horror, as I scrambled to type the words into my computer.\n\n\"world stops for a second\"\n\nNothing. Befuddled, I stare at Googles insistence that the world was perfectly normal. I slam my palm against the keyboard which loudly rejects my expression of anger. Begging for answers, I refresh the page, and suddenly Google provides. Scores of articles insist that Elon Musk, the inventor of Tesla Motors, has proven without a doubt that our reality is a simulation. He claims to have overloaded the simulation by detonating a cluster bomb just outside earths atmosphere. \n\nI feel my fingertips go numb and my face go pale at this realization. Unable to part my eyes from the words on the screen, I hear my sister approach the computer from behind, but before she can read it I protect her from the horrible truth with a quick stroke of the Keyboard. \n\nWhat was that?\n\nShe asks again, much more collected and calm this time. \n\nNothing, Go back to sleep. I insist. \n\nI look over and offer her the closest thing I can to a smile. My pale and clammy skin would rob me of any semblance of calm, but thankfully my sister was too exhausted to care. As she turned to trudge off to bed, I clutched my head in my hands and let myself sob with existential dread. I didn't have long to contemplate the ramifications of this realization before a bright flash illuminated the entire house, piercing the night sky with a loud roar. It was the last thing I saw before...\n\n SIMULATION ENDED", "\"Is there anything i can do to stop these redditors from dickriding me so hard?\" Elon musked wondered out loud. \n\n\"Jeez Elon I dont know\"\n\n\"Helpfull as always whatever my brothers called, listen to this ingenious idea. Ill get a couple of billions worth of explosives and set it off in space.\"\n\n\"are you gonna be snarky if i ask why\" \n\n\"dumbass\" \n\nElon musked his way towards his living room and made some calls. People think its harder to create a project then it is. You apply money to smart people and youre pretty much set. Most of the time those smart people are engineers, sometimes its marketing, nowadays its pretty much everything I outsource. \n\n\"You want to set off fireworks in space? why? thats such a waste Elon, even if we live in a simulation which is a dumb antiquated view thats honestly even that clearly formulated by you, heck you didnt...\"\n\n\"shush shush convenient exposition, if i say jump you say?\"\n\n\"ye ye how high\"\n\n\"so i ask rockets in the sky and you say\"\n\n\"how fucking many\"\n\n\"enough so that if i put the funding towards helping the poor i couldve saved a million people\"\n\n\"jesus Elon youre losing it\"\n\nElon hung up and remained silent for a minute. Then he started laughing. The walls echoed the hollow sounds. He gasped for air and sat down but kept on laughing. He got tears in his eyes such a good time he was having. \n\n\"im gonna set of fucking fireworks to test if were in a simulation\" he managed between laughing fits\n\n\"its so fucking dumb to be rich\"\n\n.\n\n\n\nAfter a successful launch there was a 'stutter' in everything. like the milkyway lagged. Elon smirked and called the engineer again.\n\n\"looks like i was riii-iight\"\n\n\"still couldve saved those millions of people instead Elon. This \"discovery\" doesnt change as much as you think it does. \"\n", "“It’s not that I’ve given up,” Musk said, “I just need to know if it’s really worth my time.”\n\n\n“But isn’t that a fatalist view?” I asked.\n\n\nElon had that grin on his face, the one he gets when he knows he has the upper hand intellectually.\n\n\n“That’s exactly what it is.”\n\n\n“Again, that seems in direct conflict with everything you’ve been doing for most of your life.”\n\n\n“Look, if I’m right, then none of that, or anything really, matters. Our future is just a bunch of computer code waiting to be run. If climate change is going to do us in, or nuclear war, or the rise of artificial intelligence, then it’s already in the program. It’s just a matter of when that code gets triggered. If that’s the case then I’d rather spend my remaining days on a beach with scantily-clad women and drinks with umbrellas in them.”\n\n\nHis arrogance, camouflaged as authoritative by his many accomplishments, was being fueled by the dramatic rise in support he had gained when news of his plan went public. But it was support he hadn’t anticipated: religious groups looking for validation.\n\n\nSome saw him as a messiah here to explain the mystery of their god or gods. Others took his experiment as an attack on their holiest of holies. “You are declaring war on the Creator! The wrath of the counter-attack will kill us all!”\n\nThe scientific community, not surprisingly, laughed at Musk’s idea and painted him as a hero turned villain. \n\n\n“Why don’t we just blow up the moon? We can disprove tides!”\n\n\n“Let’s make the Sun disappear and see how long it takes for light and gravity to reach the earth! One more test of General Relativity couldn’t hurt!”\n\n\nA cluster of Neutron Bombs was to be detonated near the Sun, the location chosen to minimize any gravitational effects on other celestial bodies. It would be a shame to disprove his theory and then be wiped out by an asteroid knocked off its orbit by the test.\n\n\nThe theory was that neutrons, subatomic particles in the nucleus of every atom, were the Universal Binary Bits. A massive generation of new neutrons, more bits, would overload the simulation device just enough to cause lag. \n\n\nTesting for this lag required an enormous engineering effort that Musk self-funded. The measuring devices, nicknamed Toto-1 and Toto-2, were massive cubes of lead with an atomic clock at the center, and they were to be placed on opposite sides of the Earth 5 miles down in the ocean. They would be protected enough, Musk predicted, to detect as much as 500ms of lag, though he expected something in the 150-200ms range.\n\n\nWhen the news of Musk’s intentions broke it was already too late. SpaceX had knowingly been sending pieces of the cluster bomb up with each launch of the Falcon9. Everything was on auto-pilot and there was no override switch. Musk’s Bomb was going to explode whether humanity was ready for it or not.\n\n\nI asked him, in those final minutes before the detonation, if he was having any second thoughts. “Just the ones I’ve been programmed to have” he responded with that grin. Confident to the end. \n\n\nHe strode across the stage in front of his SpaceX employees and viewers from all around the globe. “Today” he started, “we seek an answer to a question from antiquity: what is real? In 10 more minutes we just might know.”\n\n\nThere were 4 prominent counters on the screen behind him. One for the detonation, another for how long the results from the detonation will take to reach Earth, 8 minutes, 20 seconds, and the other 2 counters were the clocks of Toto-1 and Toto-2.\n\n\nThe anticipation grew as the detonation clock counted down to zero. Musk was pacing back and forth on the stage gazing up at the screen and listening to the chatter of Mission Control. \n\n\nRight before it hit zero, Musk froze. \n\n\nMission Control squawked “Primary Detonation Confirmed” and, just like that, Musk was gone. \n\n\nWell, not gone, more like displaced. His remains were found sticking out of the concrete wall Stage Left. He had proven his theory but paid with his life. \n\n\nHorror filled the room as employees began to realize what had happened. The bomb had created lag, but only for Elon. \n\n\nEstimating the distance between his last position on stage and his place of death put the lag closer to 500ms. In that time the rest of the Milky Way Galaxy continued on its merry way and left Musk briefly stuck in the past. \n\n\nWhen he re-synced with the rest of us he was 60 feet away in the wall. \n\n\nThe confusion that followed made everyone ignore the second counter for receiving the detonation results. When it hit zero the screen went blank.\n\n\nWhat followed struck fear into the heart of every man, woman, and child watching. Slowly displayed on the screen in large, blocky red letters was one word: N00b\n\n—-\n\n\nThe aftermath was apocalyptic. Scientists reluctantly revealed they had known we were in a simulation all along, with research going back 30 years to back up their claims. The psychological affect of this news destroyed the very fabric of society. Humanity’s new mantra was “If it’s all just a game, then why should I play by the rules?”\n\n\nIt has been 4 years since that fateful day. We are slowly rising up from those dark days that followed, but we haven’t seemed to learn our lesson. The United States has detonated a Lag Bomb much larger than Elon’s with a primitive targeting device. That’s what gave us the new Las Vegas Crater ridged with neon signs.\n\n\nWith the Russians and the Chinese developing their own Lag Bombs we can only hope that next month’s peace negotiations are successful. If not, all of our code may be deleted.\n\n\nAll Hail The Great Programmer! Killer of N00bs!\n", "When the big day arrived, it was like none other. Everyone had waited 30 years since humanity reached the consensus that our entire universe was only a simulation, it had taken 30 years for the neutrino cluster bomb to reach a safe enough distance from Earth to be detonated. \n\nOver a billion people were born during that time. It had completely changed the way humanity thought about life. It had even become a pop phenomenon, as evidenced by the hit song \"I know you're not real, get off my lawn\". \n\nPeople were gathering across the globe, joining in celebrations, orgies, book clubs, as they put aside their social anxiety for one night. \n\nWhen the time came, they all had a screen in their hand. News programs and celebrity channels were all live-streaming the event. Pious figures were warning everyone about the danger of God. Politicians were arguing like usual, some probably hoped for the end of the world just so they could say \"I told you so.\" Economists were warning about the great depression that would happen if everyone fell into a depression over the matter. Androids inwardly mocked their inferior neurotic human counterparts as they went about their menial tasks. Even the Aliens took a break from their probing to watch the event with utmost curiosity. \n\nFinally a hushed silence fell across the crowds as Elon Musk started his broadcast. \n\n\"Today is finally the day. We started the project 30 years ago, sending the bomb off at near light speed, hoping to get a glimpse of what lies beyond this universe. And now that time has come.\n\n\"The bomb is not the only thing that's happened during that time, humanity has also come a long way in the last few decades. I started a colony on Musk, that's Mars for you Chinese speakers, but because you helped me save the world from Global Warming I am very thankful to point out that we don't need it.\n\n\"I faced a lot of opposition when I started this project, and I still am. To those of you worrying, I want you to know we have the best minds on the job, you have nothing to worry about. To those of you excited, I need to remind you that we have no idea what will happen, so don't get your expectations too high.\n\n\"Whichever way you feel about it, the bomb is 28 light years away, we obviously sent the activation signal 28 years ago, it's way too late to stop it now. Whatever happens will happen, so lets have some fun tonight!\" \n\nExactly an hour later, at midnight, in one part of the world, the countdown began.\n\n10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 4... no wait- 5- 4- 3... 2...\n\n1...\n\nAt that exact second, 30 light years away, a massive explosion tore a hole through space-time itself. The universe flickered for a moment, before coming to a complete stop. Nothing moved,from one end of the galaxy to the other. The earth stopped spinning, people stopped blinking, clocks stopped ticking, & sloths temporarily disappeared from existence. Space-time had stopped altogether.\n\nIn fact, it was so thorough that there was not a single way for anything in the universe to notice or measure that anything had happened to begin with. Which is why a long long time later, 0 earth seconds to be precise, everything continued as usual and life went back to normal. \n\nPeople around the globe let out a collective sigh of disappointment and relief, before putting their VR headsets on and jumping back into their simulated worlds. \n\n", "\"'Error'?\" The young astronaut, Miller, repeated, pulling himself towards the thin monitor.\n\nArnold, his superior, stood over him, his head in his hands. \"For the fifth time, Miller, that's what it says.\"\n\n\"But... the Milky Way is a galaxy. Galaxies can't lag.\"\n\nArnold turned on Miller with a crackling fury in his eyes. Past the razor in his glare, there was an undefined fear. \"Don't you think I know that?\"\n\nMiller dropped his gaze to the Space Station's floor, or at least, what was the floor for that moment. When the error message first appeared on the screen, Miller wasn't quite sure what he expected to happen. Maybe the gravity suddenly being flipped off? Or the stars around them winking out of existence? Out of all the possible outcomes, the worst one had come to pass: nothing. \n\nThe eerie silence that followed the explosion, and then the message, was unlike anything Miller had ever heard, and it filled him with a deep dread. He hoped he would never have to experience it again.\n\n\"What do we do?\" Miller asked. Down the corridor, Miller could hear the Chinese astronauts whispering in hushed voices. Using a translator, they all agreed to keep the information quiet for now.\n\n\"I don't know. We can't keep the information from everyone else.\" Arnold replied.\n\n\"Well, what can we do?\" \n\nHe thought for a moment, his brow furrowing as though he didn't like his thought process. \"We shouldn't let the public know. We're both trained well, so... let's try and figure out where this message came from.\"\n\nMiller set himself by the computer, ready to follow his superior's instructions, when he froze and turned back around. \"What are you going to do about Musk? He wanted to know the results.\"\n\nArnold sighed and shook his head. \"I'll tell him what I have to. For now, we have just a few hours before we have to report back to NASA. Get working.\"\n\nMiller nodded and set in on the message, dusting off the computer-science he learned several years ago. He'd never had to use it under pressure before. He prayed the error was a direct effect of the bomb going off, but the pit in his stomach taunted him to no end. Something was terribly wrong, and there was not one person who would know how to fix it.\n\nWhat had they done?\n_____________________________________________________\n\nThis prompt was a bit outside my comfort zone, thank you!", "\"Really? So this is going to be a shot of space for like an hour?\"\n\n\"Well, it's random - that's kind of the point.\" Neal's eyes are still glued to the screen.\n\n\"Well they could be a little more specific.\" Melissa continued the mundane task of doing the dishes tonight. She knew this black screen meant a lot to Neal.\n\n\"Well, I mean they could be - but it's best if it's random. I mean that's the whole principle. Like Schrodinger's cat style.\"\n\n\"Alright, I'll bite.\" She had a few minutes to kill - and she knows how much it means to share your passion. After a moment she solicited further, \"So the cat's both alive and dead until you open the box.\"\n\nNeal grinned and glanced towards Melissa. He knew her subtle response was an unconditional invitation to nerd out. He could blabber all he wanted for the next few minutes - and he jumped at the opportunity. \"Yeah, its roots are in quantum physics where stuff could be two things at once. We're not to the point of understanding it yet, but we just kinda accept that tiny tiny stuff does weird things unlike the observable universe.\" Neal paused to see if Melissa was paying attention or if he should just stop there.\n\n\"Mmmm hmm? The rocket's obviously not small - how's that fit into Elon Musk's plan?\"\n\n\"Well the newest theory is we're in a simulated world. You and I are just programs.\" Neal started to gloss over things so he wouldn't lose his one person audience. He rattled off a summary in a monotone voice \"Technology grows fast. We can simulate game worlds easily, in another thousand years maybe the weather for perfect predictions. In another ten thousand the entire Earth on a molecular level. In another hundred thousand on an atomic level. Anyway, with infinite worlds and billions of years, someone somewhere can probably simulate the entire galaxy if not universe.\" The screen continued showing the blackness of space. He turns to Melissa after a pause. Sensing something dramatic, Melissa looks up.\n\nNeal continued with a profound voice. \"Well if they can simulate the universe - who's to say WE'RE not a simulation?\" Melissa stared back blankly. \"Like, of the infinite worlds that can be created, what are the chances WE are the one true world? Like, astronomically low! Therefore, we're in a simulation.\" He eagerly paused to let it sink in.\n\nMelissa shrugged. \"Okay. So let's assume that we're in a simulation. The rocket?\"\n\n\"So here's the thing. What if we don't understand quantum physics because the simulated overlord program doesn't calculate it? In a game, when your character walks around a world, the game isn't simulating everything outside of the picture because it doesn't matter. It's like everything outside of Mario's view is in Schrodinger's box - basically uncalculated until you actually need it, saving processing time and memory.\n\n\"Now, imagine that Mario is causing chaos behind him but doesn't look until the last second. Like he's just collecting green shells and tossing them backwards into a pool - they're all running into each other, never stopping. And then he spins around.\" Neal suddenly shoots his arms in the air, \"BAM, the console freezes while it tries to display the chaos. It catches up eventually, but the game lags while it tries to work out everything that it previously didn't care about.\" Neal pauses again and starts up another relevant idea. \"So do you remember bucky balls? Like the scientific breakthrough from the 80's?\"\n\n\"Yeah, they wanted to use it to transport molecules around the body and whatever. Like little boxes.\" On that sentence she suddenly realized where Neal was going.\n\nNeal nodded enthusiastically. \"Yeah, like little boxes - like little Schrodinger boxes.\" Neal continued. \"So Musk developed this ... liquidy bucky ball material. With a little electricity they form bucky balls, but they also unstable so they constantly open and reform other balls. Large, small, whatever -\" Neal snickered and tilted his head - \"The internet's calling them Musky balls.\"\n\nMelissa rolls her eyes.\n\nNeal returned, \"Anyway, so these Musky balls - you don't know what's in them until you open them. But there might be another musky ball, and inside that another - and maybe the ones that are opened closed up again in some other formation with other Musky balls inside that.\"\n\n\"Chaos...\"\n\n\"Yup, Chaos, and if we open up the one solid Bucky ball container holding this whole mess? What if Mario turns around?\"\n\n\"The console freezes.\"\n\nNeal's excited demeanor settles into a bright grin. He repeats Melissa's words back at her. \"The console freezes.\" He gestures towards the computer screen. \"And that's what we're waiting for.\" Both continue staring at the screen as Neal turns the volume up - confident that Melissa is now interested in the announcer's voice.\n\nMoments later there's a bright flash. For all the buildup that led up to this scientific event, it was anti-climatically over in a few seconds.\n\n\"So did anything happen?\"\n\n\"I donno, didn't seem like it.\"\n\n\"So maybe we're real?\"\n\n\"Maybe we're real.\" Neal shrugged. \"I don't know, maybe not. Maybe Elon will try again.\"\n\n****\n\nThe whole room froze for a moment.\n\nYou see, even if the universe was simulated, even if there was lag the simulation wouldn't know it. It wouldn't know if it wasn't programmed to know.\n\n**\n\n\"Well do you think he would? He could?\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's a good question - I mean he burned probably his entire reputation trying to pull off this crazy stunt. I'm sure this wasn't profitable unless he can find a use for Musky balls.\" Neal couldn't help from making himself smirk.\n\n**\n\nThe room froze again.\n\nIf you're colorblind, how do you know you're colorblind? You might know because other people tell you they see other colors. Maybe you could build a device that can see additional colors. But what if nobody else knows? What if the device* can't know? After all, wouldn't it have to be programmed to know?\n\n***\n\n\"Oh wait, he's coming on TV.\"\n\n**\n\nComputers know they're lagging because they have a separate test for time. They can tell how long it has been since the last computation. What if time itself was lagging? How would you know?\n\n**\n\nThe chatter on the TV hushes before Musk speaks: \"The data we have gathered will be analyzed and I'll be sure to report our findings in our next press release. I am confident that the data will provide even the tiniest shudder of information that can help determi--\"\n\n**\n\nHow does prisoner know he is a prisoner? He knows because he can see the other world or he can see his master giving orders.\n\nBut how does a machine know about the rest of the world? It only knows if it has been programmed to know.\n\nThe only way you can ever tell if you are in a simulation is if someone outside* wants to tell you.", "Jeremy looked at the read out on the monitor in disbelief.\n \nError 100101\n\nError? The Milky Way hadn’t had an error in...well ever. And what the hell was error 100101?\n \nBeads of sweat began to form on his brow. Had he done something? The only manual interaction he’d had with the sim were the usual arbitrary interactions that were allowed every tech in his position. Still, Milky Way was Timothy’s baby, and if Timothy’s baby was damaged on his watch, there would be hell to pay. Jeremy took two quick deep breaths then signaled that he needed help.\n \nThe tech analyst floated to Jeremy’s station gracefully. A whirring ball of silicate and metal, it hovered over the station momentarily, scanning the error. It then whirred off in the opposite direction, assumedly to debug the error and notify Timothy of the on-goings.\n\nJeremy waited nervously recounting every action he’d taken after setting foot in the office today:\nThere was the asteroid he collided with Nebula6. Nebula6 current populace was well under the 2 billion threshold and didn’t require authorization to demolish.\nThen there was the new species he introduced to the 8th sector. The 8th sector was so sparsely populated it would be a millennia in sim-time before his species was discovered. Again well within regs.\n\n“What the HELL did you do to my universe Spitzer!?”, Timothy jumped into view, the steam was nearly visible from his ears.\n\n“No..Nothing…I didn’t do..”\n\n“Move, let me have a look” Timothy butted his way into Jeremys terminal. Timothy waived his hands, and pinched fingers in rapid succession, eyes glued to the read out all the while muttering “If I find out you broke protocol you are finished Jer…”\n\nTimothy stopped mid thought, he’d found something of interest. \n\n“Am I..”\n\n“shhh”, Timothy retorted.\n\n“..in trouble?”\n\n“SHHH!”, Timothy responded vehemently this time holding a single finger to Jeremys lips, his face still buried in the read out. “This is fascinating!”\n\n“What? What’s fascinating?”, Jeremy asked.\n\nTimothy responded with 3 words that would change Universe Inc forever, “Elon fucking Musk!”\n", "The bomb explodes ... nothing is amiss.\n\nJonathon turns to Elon and said \"I told you this was a waste of time, even if it did cause the Universe to lag, time itself lagged so we measured nothing different.\"", "The champagne glasses clinked at the center of the table. Between them, on a TV just over the bar, Elon Musk was making an announcement about bombs or the end of the world or whatever. \n\nJim wasn't listening. The end of the world could go screw itself. He smiled at the blue eyes in front of him.\n\n\"I love you, Jim.\"\n\n\"I love you too, Karen.\"\n\nShe drank with her eyes up at him, her look somewhere between shy and naughty. \n\nOh, man, that girl...\n\nJim was fairly certain he was dreaming. Like, ninety-eight percent sure. But he didn't care. Karen was the love of his life -- at least his dreamlife -- and he might as well enjoy it before the alarm clock.\n\nHe started having his suspicions the day before, when, halfway through crossing the street towards the comic \nbook store, he felt something hard and metallic and overall expensive bumping against his side and fell to the ground clumsily and awkwardly. \n\n(Most things Jim did in life were performed clumsily and awkwardly.)\n\n\"Hey, come on!\" he had yelled at the car, rising from the ground and dusting his khaki shorts and John \nConstantine shirt (the Hellblazer comics, not that Keanu Reeves farce). Then he had gotten a better look at what \nhad hit him.\n\nIt was a car, but not just any car. It was a goddamned Bentley with tinted windows. A golden Bentley with tilted windows. With a Beverly Hills plate. And out of it came a security guard, a driver and…\n\n\"Holy crap, Karen Willow!?\"\n\nYes. The movie star. Elected 3rd sexiest person in the world by Times Magazine. Twenty-one years old. Academy Award nominee. Eyes a deep shade of Caribbean blue, the color of the water under those bungalows in Bora Bora. Body of a part time Greek Siren personal trainer. Freaking Karen Willow!\n\nShe took fast steps towards Jim and touched his arm softly. \"Oh my God. Are you all right?\"\n\nAnd Jim had said, \"Ahmpfhs,\" in a low voice, because it had been four years since a woman had touched his arm and because it was Karen Willow, goddammit! \n\nAnd Karen had smiled and said \"You're cute.\"\n\nAnd that's when he knew. It was a dream. Of course it was a dream.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrom that moment until the dinner date on top of the LA skyscraper overlooking the California sunset beyond the Hollywood sign, Jim had only accumulated more reasons to believe he was dreaming. She had asked him out. She had offered to pay for everything. And she was as delightful and smart and funny as he had always imagined her. And Jim was… well, none of those things, except funny, and even so, it was in an involuntary way.\n\nLike, people laughed at him. Not with.\n\nBut not Karen. Karen laughed with him, and she thought he was smart and cute and funny.\n\nWhich, of course, just made Jim all the more certain that this was all a little play his brain was staging for him.\n\nBut, like, whatever, man. Might as well enjoy it, right?\n\n\"Do you want to get a room after this?\" Karen said, coy eyes behind her champagne glass.\n\n\"More than anything in the world,\" Jim said, relaxed, leaning back on his seat. \n\nHe was feeling good. Calm. In control.\n\nThe fact that he knew that he was dreaming made the usual nerve-wrecking experience of going on a date a delight. None of it was real, so he didn't have to be nervous. He could just be himself! After all, Karen Willow was also himself, so there was no way he could possibly say anything to screw it up.\n\nIt felt liberating, talking to a woman like that. So confident, so sure of himself.\n\nAnd not just any woman! Karen Freaking Willow!\n\nThe waiter arrived with the bill, and Karen paid for it. Jim got up and buttoned his suit (which Karen had also paid \nfor) and offered her his hand: \"Shall we, m'lady?\"\n\nShe smiled shyly. \"I love when you call me that.\"\n\nYup. Definitely a dream, Jim thought, escorting her towards the elevator.\n\n\"Call me that,\" Karen repeated.\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"Call me that.\"\n\nJim turned back. Karen had a weird smile on her face, her expression hardened and still, like she was having a \nstroke. \"Are you all right?\" he asked.\n\n\"Call me that. Call me that. Call me that.\"\n\n\"Karen, what's wrong?\"\n\n\"Call me that. Call me that. Call me that. Call me that. Call me that.\"\n\nJim looked around. Everyone seemed to be stuck in a loop, just like Karen. Glasses were clinking on looped cheers, chuckles being repeated robotically all around him, a waitress filling and unfilling a glass of wine again and again and again...\n\nJim turned his eyes to the TV, and a sudden realization dawned on him as he remembered what he had read earlier \non Reddit about the cluster bomb and Elon Musk.\n\n\"Oh, fuck no,\" he said. \"Fuck no.\"\n\n\"Honey?\"\n\nHe looked back. Karen was smiling at him, the loop gone. \"Let's go?\" she said.\n\nHe bit his lips. \"You're a freaking simulation,\" he said, slowly coming to terms with what that meant.\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\nJim scratched his head. \"Which means that I didn't make you up.\" he said, slowly. He looked around, thoughtful. \"No, I didn't code you with my brain. You were coded by the universe, just like everyone else. Elon Musk was right.\"\n\n\"Honey, what are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Which means you honestly like me!\" Jim looked up, his mouth open in surprise. \"Like, not honestly because \napparently we're all just lines of code, but… you see what I mean? Within the rules of this simulated universe, an \nactual chain of events I have no control over led to you liking me. And that chain of events is what I've always \nknown as reality, so it is reality for me! So you like me in real life! You like me for real! I wasn't dreaming! I mean, we're all dreaming, but I wasn't! Do you see? Do you see!?\"\n\n\"Of course I like you for real, Jim. What are you talking about?\"\n\nJim paced around in circles, putting his thoughts together. Then he grabbed Karen's hand. \"Come on,\" he said, dragging her to the elevator.\n\n\"Where are we going?\"\n\nJim hit the elevator button repeatedly. \"We're going to see Elon Musk,\" Jim said.\n\n\"Elon Musk?\"\n\nJim nodded, impatient, waiting for the elevator. He knew what he had to do now. If this wasn't a dream – if Karen actually liked him for who he was – he was not going to let that go easily.\n\nAnd freaking loops and lags are big-time immersion breakers he thought to himself, thinking of Bethesda. \n\n\"What do we want with Elon Musk, Jim?\"\n\nThe elevator door came open. Jim turned to face Karen. Without warning, he took off the Armani suit she had \nbought him, revealing his *'I'm the real* BIG BANG'** mustard-stained shirt underneath.\n\nJim looked Karen straight in the eye. \"I got a universe to debug,\" he said, stepping into the elevator.\n_______________\n\n[PART 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/psycho_alpaca/comments/4ylgwj/real_life_part_2/\n)\n\n/r/psycho_alpaca", "\"Thing is, if the universe is simulated space and time are also simulated. As a result the increased processing causing the lag also causes a lag in the simulation of time. Therefore there is no perceived lag for those simulated, only for an outside observer.\" said Hedelberger to Musk with a thick German accent. \"That is unless ofcourse, ...\" \n\"unless the simulator has a bug.\" Musk interrupted. \"Precisely. But that seems highly unlikely. You see the standard model doesn't have any bugs. It works. We are able to predict phenomena before they even happen. You of all people must...\" Musk phased out for a moment. He wasn't about to argue with Hedelberg. He had seen a glitch, he was certain. His plan was simple. Launch the experiment under the guise of an advanced deep space propulsion test and have it go unexpectedly wrong. Hedelberger was in on it despite his complaints. His scientific curiosity got the better of him.\n \n \n \nT+467days\n\nThe payload had been on route for 467 days to the emptiest spot in the solarsystem, around the height of the orbit of Jupiter but on a tangent plane. In fact a spot and time had been chosen so all the planets were at the farthest they could be. The official reason was that this experimental technology could cause local space-time anomalies. This positioning was thus a safety precaution. Musk however had different reasoning. He was so convinced that everything around him was simulated that he had drawn up his own ideas on how he would build such a simulator. Most of space is just that: empty space, requiring little to no processing power. Earth is a busy place. If we're all simulated you better believe that the simulation loadbalancers dedicate more resources to complex regions like earth he thought. Big explosions happened on earth all the time without a hitch. No, to cause a hitch he'd need to cause immense complexity where the loadbalancers least expect it. \n\nThe time came. The explosion happened, the news did the rounds, the hype around the project faded and life continued like nothing ever happened. A failed experiment so it seemed, until Hedelberger announced new steps towards a [grand unified theory](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Unified_Theory). Hedelberger was however puzzled, a previously failed experiment suddenly seemed to work. He could reproduce it. It was watertight. It was like the laws of physics were changing overnight. Further analysis revealed that the speed of light was changing, speeding up. \n\nWhat Hedelberger and Musk would never know is that their experiment had caused a universe simulation machine to crash due to bad loadbalancing. A simulation engineer had spotted this and fixed a few bugs he found on the old machine. One of the bugs was a wrong parameter: the speed of light. The wrong units had been used... It was orders of magnitude off. Turns out this bug was found on all machines. Instantly updating the speed of light would cause huge electromagnetic pulses destroying the universe. Around the coffee machine the simulation engineers figured out that the speed of light should be slowly increased, very slowly, to avoid causing an electromagnetic shockwave. \n\nMankind looked in awe as intergalactic history played out in fast-motion. Billions of years of supernovae, star-births and deaths played like a silent film in only a couple of years as the universe fast forwarded to the correct speed of light. The stars were actually twinkling. Soon enough the first odd signals arrived, non-organic signals. Mankind responded. So did they. Then more transmissions... There were alien worlds everywhere. The increased speed of light had made them within reach, not only for telecommunications but also for spaceships. Proxima Centauri was now only 12 lightseconds away. It was like the universe had switched internet provider. A new era of exploration and colonialism started. They called it the 'new universe' after the 'new world' of old. Yes there were wars but humans, the only race to manage to crash the simulation, reigned supreme. Terra universalis.\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 9, 13, 13, 45, 46, 64, 81, 125, 711, 2362 ]	[ "1471634366", "1471645661", "1471655256", "1471655335", "1471649374", "1471649396", "1471651656", "1471653000", "1471655058", "1471643685", "1471646980", "1471649012", "1471649425", "1471650471", "1471651097", "1471650985", "1471649704", "1471648557", "1471644398", "1471645777", "1471644778", "1471640160", "1471645837", "1471645267", "1471641983", "1471638265", "1471643109" ]
	[WP] Everyday you wake up in a different body but with your sense of inner self intact: what adventures do you get into?	4	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"What are you in for homey?\" \n\nThe scraggly teen asked. He couldn't be no more than 16 covered in tattoos from head to toe. Each one told a different story no doubt.\n\n\"I didn't do anything wrong.\" I lied. \n\n\"Of course not homey, none of us did! Isn't that right Kobe?\" The teen asked another friend of his in the same holding cell. \n\n\"Aye, you know why they call him Kobe?\" \n\nNot that I really cared, but I was bored. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Because his first bust was from stealing Kobe beef! It ain't cause he is black and plays ball!\" \n\nOh he's a comedian too. Great, why did I have to get caught?\n\n\"So homey, what are you really here for?\" His tone got deathly serious this time. \n\n\"Look, what was your name again?\"\n\n\"Smiley\"\n\n\"Look, Smiley, you ever wake up and feel like you aren't yourself?\" \n\n\"Only when I am hungover!\" he laughed. Of course he laughed. \n\n\"Yea well, today was one of those days. I did some stupid shit and I got caught. It's alright, I will be out of here before you wake up.\"\n\n\"Oh yea homey? You got some kind of good lawyer or something?\"\n\n\"Something like that.\"\n\nI was tempted to tell him the truth. Smiley may be unhinged enough to believe me. I tried telling others before, but they just brushed it off and laughed at me as if I was telling some sort of dumb joke or recommended I see a psychologist.\n\n\"Ok Smiley, I have a secret to tell you.\"\n\nSmiley and Kobe both leaned in. \n\n\"Before I do, do you believe in super powers?\"\n\n\"You mean like xmen and shit? Or some brujeria quija board shit? I don't fuck with that.\"\n\n\"Good, you shouldn't. Well, I didn't before, until one day I realized I had a sort of power. When I go to bed at night, I don't wake up as the same person. I wake up as someone else. I am still me inside, but my physical body is that of someone else. I don't know who. Just different people. I woke up in this body today and I fucked up and got caught doing something I shouldn't have. Now whoever this person actually is is goign to to wake up in prison with no knowledge of why.\"\n\nWow, they are both hanging on to every word. \n\n\"So what did you do homey?\"\n\n\"I stole some things. That's what I do. I am a thief. Except I never get caught. Once I go to sleep and wake up, I will be somewhere else and you will be here with this guy....George Stanz.\"\n\nAlways got to check the ID and memorize whose body I am in now. People get suspicious when you don't know your own name. \n\nSmiley and Kobe just stared at me.\n\n\"Yo dawg, you gonna need a good ass lawyer to have that defense hold up.\"\n\nOf course they don't believe me, why would they. \n\n\"Ok, well I guess George will.\"\n\nI guess there is nothing left to do but get some sleep. \n\n- \n\nWaking up with the sun in your face is always lovely. The air smelled so light and clean. I knew I was out of that cell. The heavy scent of musk was gone. \n\nOpening my eyes revealed clean white sheets inside of a beautiful room. There was a wide open balcony door with an amazing ocean view. The room was huge with various plants and painting on the wall. \n\nI looked down at my body and saw the most amazing female body I had ever seen. Quite the contrast to George's large figure. Wow. \n\nI took in the room and wondered where the hell I am. I gotta find a mirror. \n\nThe phone rings. \n\n\"Hello\" I say outloud before answering the phone and I hear the most angelic voice I have heard. \n\nI reach over to grab the phone and answer. \n\n\"Hello.\"\n\n\"Oh thank God you are there!\"\n\n\"Um, yea hi who is this?\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?! Hun, it's me! It's George!\"\n\n\"......\"\n\n\"Damnit Lucy, I don't have time to bull shit! I am in prison!! What he hell happened!? You need to come down and get me out of here, there's these...\"\n\nDamnit. Out of all the people. Well, there's no point in wasting another lovely day in prison. \n\nThe phone rings again. \n\n\"Sorry George, you are gonna have a long day. I need to go take advantage of this beautiful day.\" " ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1471635377", "1471642913" ]
	[WP] Everyone gets a spirit animal. Yours is a sword.	0	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "My first language is Swedish and I may not be so good at writing but who cares, it's fun!\n\n\"Okay next up!\" The girl standing before me walks up to the teacher and sits in the chair next to him. With his slim gentle fingers he touches the girls forehead and start the spell. Soon after the shadow of a snake starts creeping up her arm can be seen. The snake is albino with red eyes and is curling himself up around the girls neck. \n\"Congratulations! Your spirit animal is the wise snake of the north!\" \nThe girls thanks the teacher and leaves with the snake still around her neck. \n\"Next up!\" \nI seat myself in the chair. My heartbeat is beating so hard I'm afraid it will jump out of my chest and I dig my nails into the wood of the chair. \n\"Calm down, we're just letting you know what your spirit animal is what could be so scary about that?\"\nThe teacher gently pats my shoulder and I calm down a bit. I don't actually know why I'm so nervous, they're just letting us know what our spirit animal it's not like it's something life changing... The teacher puts his an on my forehead and begins. Spirit animals are decided by our personality some people even befriend a special animal naturally which end up being their spirit animal. Suddenly a memory emerges. I'm lying in my bed in the castle and my brother comes inside. He has a big smile on his face and explained he is to go out to war to fight. I never understood why he was smiling so much and I didn't have a change to ask him either... Suddenly I'm pulled back to reality by something cold and heavy in my hand. I open my eyes that I first realize now that I've closed. In my hand I'm holding a sword. I look questioning at the teacher but he just looks surprised and start whispering something to his apprentice beside him. \n\"Come with me.\" The apprentice says and leads me away. \n\"What is happening why did you give me a sword?\"\n\"We didn't give you a sword, you did.\" She whispers to me as we continue trough several doors.\n\"What do you mean?\" I ask and look confused down at the plain iron sword in my hand. \n\"Not all people get an actual animal as their spirit animal actually... It's just that animals are most common because they're a living thing and you can communicate with them....\"\n\"So where are you taking me?\" We arrive at a large room with a table in the middle with at least twenty chairs around.\n\"It is said that anyone who gets a sword is to be a knight.\" \n\"A knight... wait, what?\" I scream at her but it's to late, she has already closed the door and is gone. I don't wanna be a knight I don't wanna end up as my brother!\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471688561", "1471715517" ]
	[WP] You're flying cross country and your connecting flight is canceled. The next available flight is in six hours so you decide to take a nap at the terminal. When you wake up, the entire airport is strangely empty.	32	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Henry woke up from his slumber at Denver International to the repetitive robotic droning coming from his gate. \"All passengers, final call for flight UA1-5-9-5, please board at B41.\" \n\nHe looked around, blearily. His stomach still needed appeasing, and judging by the gate announcement it was too late to run and buy that overpriced pizza he had been hankering.\n\nSuddenly he realized something was terribly, terribly wrong. There were no people visible, anywhere. Not just at his gate, but in his entire field of vision. The cute Latina at the pizza stall - gone. The two security guards - gone. Attendants at other gates, not to mention every single passenger in the terminal - they had all simply vanished.\n\n\"Uh, hello?\" mumbled Henry in stupefaction. The gate boarding announcement startled him, and he turned around, half expecting to see someone at the lectern next to his plane.\n\nNope, nothing. When he approached the boarding pass scanner, a small timer was flickering - apparently the notification system was automatic, based on the inputted time of departure. As he walked away, he heard another message, spoken softer and smoother than the first one: \"All occupants, please proceed to exits.\"\n\nHe walked hesitantly down the jetway towards his plane. Maybe someone was in there? Entering the jet, he saw bags clearly under seats, seat-belts buckled - all signs of people, but no actual people.\n\nHe got off an back into the terminal. Seizing the moment, he went and took that pizza he had been eyeing. It turned out to be disappointing, like most other airport food.\n\n\"There probably was an evacuation I missed\", said Henry to himself. He started to move himself through the terminal, towards the exit. On his way he passed those famous murals that conspiracy nuts loved to rave about. The ones with all the creepy children, and the scary Nazi soldier with the AK-47 killing the bird.\n\nHe stopped in mid-stride.\n\nThe Nazi soldier wasn't there anymore, as if his mural never included him in the first place. And there seemed to be more people in the other murals than he originally remembered. He glanced over at the neighboring mural an looked at it. Some of the faces looked way more adult-like than Henry expected - the title of the painting mentioned children, not the elderly.\n\nHe looked at one face specifically on the wall and recoiled in shock. It couldn't be. But then again, any explanation was as legitimate as any other. He saw a face he recognized, a face he had seen not to long ago, selling pizza to passengers like him.\n\nThe cute Latina attendant's face stared back at him, as her painted hand grasped towards a multi-colored tree that symbolized harmony with nature. Henry didn't understand how, but she had somehow been moved inside the mural - presumably with every other occupant of the building. Henry turned around to look at the other murals and remembered the conspicuous absence of Death.\n\nAs he contemplated the current situation, Henry heard something collapse on the floor beneath him - quite large, judging by the volume.\n\nHe was not alone." ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1471713758", "1471733619" ]
IE So the prophecy fortells: In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines Sprung from cages out on highway nine, Chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin' out over the line H-Oh, Baby this town rips the bones from your back It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap We gotta get out while we're young `Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run (Small modifications of the lyrics is alright)	[WP] Pick a song. Those lyrics are now known as "the ancient prophecy". Tell the story of this prophecy's fulfillment.	26	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Some say a comet will fall from the sky. Followed by meteor showers and tidal waves. Followed by fault lines that cannot sit still. Followed by millions of dumbfounded dipshits.\n\nSome say the end is near. Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will cause I sure could use a vacation from this stupid shit, silly shit, stupid shit.\n\nOne great big festering neon distraction, I've a suggestion to keep you all occupied - Learn to swim.\n\n\n---\n\nHow the fuck did we get here?\n\nJust that morning she'd been getting dressed for work, listening to the new forecast. \"Expect pleasant weather and clear skies today, everyone\" the newscaster cheerfully informed the audience. Good, she thought, I could use a little more sun and good weather. The news went on to report the usual blend of sadness and horror intermingled with mindless celebrity bullshit, both of which Jessica ignored as she puttered about, preparing for her day. She lived in the big city, living the big city dream of paying too much to live in a too small apartment and pretending like she was having the time of her life when she was truly dying inside. She worked in a call center, with hundreds of others, peddling useless wares to the unsuspecting. It's not glamorous, but it gets me by. \n\nOnce finally ready to start another day just like all of the others, she headed out of her apartment to the street. There she shuffled past others on her way to her bus stop. Some of the city's homeless wandered her neighborhood, which was nice, but not so nice as to have police officers there to run off the \"undesirables.\" One of these poor souls stopped her by laying a hand on the arm that her purse was not tightly clutched under. \"Excuse me, miss, but if the world ended, have you ever done anything you'd be proud of before you died?\" the dirty, wild eyed woman asked Jessica. \"What the fuck! Back the hell up, are you serious?\" Jessica yelled as she snatched back her arm. The wild eyed woman started at her relentlessly. \"Repent before the end!\" she said in a hoarse bark before ambling off. \n\n\"Fucking crazies. Jesus,\" Jessica mutters to herself. She continues on her way, noting that not a single one of the fuckers around her offered to help. Assholes, she thought. She made her way to her stop and joined the line without further incident. On the bus, there weren't any seats available, so she grabbed an available hand rail and sank deep into thought. \n\nSteve's been such an asshole lately, she thought as she remembered their date the night before. Over a romantic dinner in a nice, new Italian restaurant, he'd chosen to spend the whole evening texting people and staring intently at his phone. She'd ordered a dry salad because he would make comments about how she was putting on weight, even though she worked out for 2 hours a day every day to keep looking good and mostly ate wholesome, healthy foods. She'd picked at the tasteless salad as she watched him actively ignore her and contemplated throwing the plate at him, but instead finished up the lukewarm date at her place with lukewarm sex that left her feeling sad and disappointed in herself. Is there someone better than this? Am I...\n\nBOOM!\n\nThe bus lurched as the driver slammed on the brakes, and a building ahead practically exploded, sending waterfalls of glass from its windows down into the street. Screams echoed throughout the bus and into the bus from the street as pedestrians ran in horror away from the building. Jessica was stunned and unable to move, frozen by her fear. People around her screamed and shoved their way off of the bus as the sounds of destruction continued to increase as there were more explosions in surrounding buildings. A man fighting his way off the bus bumped Jessica into a bus seat and then she fell to the floor, which broke her out of her fear, and allowed her adrenaline to really kick in. I've got to get the fuck out of here. She joined the people fighting their way off of the bus and onto the street and the very definiton of chaos.\n\nPeople were running and screaming in all directions, smoke and fires streamed from multiple buildings. Looking up into the sky, she saw multiple streaks of light flying in all directions. Rockets? Is this a terrorist attack? Jessica decided the safest course of action was to try to get away from the buildings in case those were the targets of this probable terrorist attack. Explosions continued to shatter through the air around her as she ran off in the direction of the marina.\n\nFortunately for Jessica, she lived just a few blocks from the marina. Getting to the water did not seem to be a priority of most of the people around her, who seemed to just be all running in circles, too panicked to truly think. As she ran, she saw many people on foot sprinting through the sidewalks and between the sea of cars, many of which had been abandoned by those running. She felt the ground shake and a loud crack as she watched a great portion of the street up ahead sink, dragging down cars and people alike. The sinkhole started in the middle of the road and grew to be the width of the road in a matter of moments. She quickly ran into a side alley and detoured around the block where she'd just seen the sinkhole and people quite possibly falling to their deaths. She shoved the thought out of her mind and focused on getting to the marina, and getting to a ferry. \n\nShe was beginning to lose steam and her ability to keep the negative thoughts at bay when she spotted the various boats of the marina. She was ready to breathe a sigh of relief, when she noticed the size of the waves crashing into the shore. The boats were majestically cresting waves that were uncharacteristically large. She swallowed the lump of fear and headed to the dock to get on the ferry that she spotted was still docked. Others were running in that direction, but she figured that as there would be fewer cars because of the chaos, there'd be plenty of space for those on foot. As she closed in on the dock, she realized there was quite the crowd forming and people were getting quite physical with one another. Splash after splash was heard around the not so distant sounds of breaking glass and concrete as people were pushed from the dock. \n\nJessica joined the melee, pushing and fighting her way, making sure to stay as close to the middle as possible until she fought her way, tooth and nail and a few gouged eyes, onto the ferry. There, she joined other sweaty, terrified people who were clinging to their cell phones, desperate to hear from those they loved and to hear an explanation for why the world around them was falling apart. Jessica chose to try to catch her breath before pulling out her cell phone. No signal, no network. She searched for available wifi, connected, but there was no internet. What the fuck? She looked around and recognized the look of frustration from those around her as they realized they were cut off from the world. \n\nAs the boat filled, the concerned voices drowned out the overhead announcement that the ferry would be leaving the dock. The not so gentle motion of the ferry leaving the relative safety of the marina alerted everyone to this fact, as the ride was quite rough as the waters became more and more choppy. With the bodies packed so tightly together inside the ferry, Jessica became more and more motion sick. She began to slide her way through the pack to make her way out to a rail on the deck.\n\nIt was just as packed, but at least there was a breeze. There were life vests still hanging on the outside wall, and Jessica thought to grab one as she passed it. Just in case, she thought. As she slipped it on, she looked at the sky around her and back at the mainland. She realized what she thought were rockets were falling from the sky, not being shot from a plane and that there was way too many falling everywhere for it to be an attack. At the same time, she realized that these streaks were falling everywhere, not just on the mainland, but into the water, and they were the cause of the rough seas. Her heart sank as she came to the realization that she may have made a mistake in getting on the ferry. She didn't have time to regret her decision, as one of the many meteors crashed into the opposite end of the ferry, instantly killing tens of people, and throwing countless people into the turmoil of the ocean. \n\n--\nCause I'm praying for rain and I'm praying for tidal waves. I wanna see the ground give way. I wanna watch it all go down. Mom, please flush it all away. I wanna see it go right in and down. I wanna watch it go right in. Watch you flush it all away.\n\nTime to bring it down again. Don't just call me pessimist. Try and read between the lines.\n\nI can't imagine why you wouldn't welcome any change, my friend.\n\n--\nShe felt herself being flung through the air and hit the water hard, knocking the air out of her. She momentarily sank below the waves, before the buoyancy of the life vest pulled her back up. She coughed and sputtered and flung her limbs through the water aimlessly, trying to right herself and get her bearings. She eventually calmed enough to coordinate her limbs and move with some precision, until she realized there was no where to go. She looked back towards the mainland and saw that more and more of the skyscrapers in the distance were accompanied by plumes of smoke and the number of glowing trails across the sky was increasing.\n\nJessica made the final decision not to try to escape the inevitable. She unclipped the life jacket as the ocean continued to swell around her and drifted off, into the cool dark, tumultuous depths. \n\n--\nSong used was Tool's \"Aenema\"", "\" Once upon a time\nThis place was beautiful and mine\nBut now it's just a bottom line\nBarely comes to mind\nBut ever after was mine.\"\n- Ever After by Marianas Trench\n\nIt was like a fairytale for him. Feeling the world shift and turn around him, the beauty of the landscape faded for the older adult; his 29 years becoming very very shorter and shorter as he watched them overtake his city, the city that had become a bottom line. The prophets had taunted him, taunted him with their words and their harmonies. But he didn't listen. And the three prophets went away. And now his whole beautiful place had become the bottom line in a tragedy that was unfolding.", "(first post, and I'm doing this on the first song that came up in my playlist, so be gentle)\n\n_________________________________________________________________________________________\n\n\"Something has to be done.\" thought Gabe.\n\nOf course, rules were rules. No intervention was to take place. But the situation looked bleak. Even in his otherwise stoic heart, Gabe felt pity - pity for those who he knew would suffer.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nGary awoke to his blaring alarm clock and slowly rolled out of bed - trying his best to not wake up his wife of 4 years, Marcia.\n\n\"It's no use, Gary. I've been awake for a while.\"\n\nGary was surprised. Marcia was a heavy sleeper who'd rarely make it past 10PM. To see her awake so early in the morning was...\n\n\"Gary, I had a dream last night. I woke up at 2, and for the past four hours I've pondered that dream. Gary, I need a divorce.\"\n\nThe news hit Gary like a ton of bricks. Stuttering and stammering like a toddler, he suddenly remembered his job. IB was no laughing matter - the whole reason he was waking up at 6 on this otherwise idyllic Monday was to get to work on time after a peaceful weekend. But now, his whole world had been flipped upside down.\n\n\"When you return this evening, take what you need and get out of my sight.\" said Marcia in her coldest tone - usually reserved for demeaning lectures to cashiers who rang up an item incorrectly.\n\nAs he left in his business attire, Gary decided that he wouldn't be returning to the house, or to a hotel room. He'd go to the roof of Prout & Hochlan and throw himself into Cleveland Ave. below. Nothing else made sense.\n\n_______________________________________________________________\n\nAt that moment, in a park a few blocks from Prout & Hochlan and the other buildings of the financial district, a young woman named Erica emerged from her makeshift tent. The rhythmic drumbeat of the communal alarm reverberated through the air. She was part of a large but ragged group - consisting of environmentalists, communists, anarchists, and a host of other \"-ists\" that she had no interest in remembering. One thing was for certain - they were all here with the single goal of demonstrating their anger at the oppressive system of crony capitalism. Today was the big march and sit-in at Cleveland Ave. \n\nBut in a way, Erica was not like the others. Some of them dreamed of a peaceful utopia, but Erica was a realist. A former chem major, she was angered by the crippling student debt she had taken on to attain what she was told would be a wonderful, fruitful degree. Her current job as a store cashier was by no means fruitful, or chemistry-related. But she had not forgotten her studies.\n\nThe concoction in her backpack was proof of that - a bomb that incorporated all the concepts she had sign over $200,000 to study. Erica intended to detonate it in the middle of the crowd, to create another Haymarket Square. \n\nBecause for her, nothing was left. No money, no family, a position at Kohl's hanging on by a thread, and as of yesterday, no boyfriend. She was willing to sacrifice herself for the greater good. And so, at 6:30AM, she set off slightly ahead of the remaining protesters, marching to Cleveland Avenue.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nAs he turned onto Harding Ave., Gary began to hesitate. \"What if there was more to life than just Marcia and financial stability?\" - he wondered. He could do a whole lot more interesting things in his life, even without Marcia, or the financial stability of his financial job.\n\nA cup of coffee would be the perfect thing to drink while contemplating his predicament. \"Suicide could wait\", he gloomily joked to himself.\n\nAt that moment he turned onto 11th St. towards his favorite coffee shop, and collided with a woman who'd just crossed onto his sidewalk. She tripped up on fell onto the sidewalk, cushioned somewhat by her backpack.\n\nShe was disheveled, one of those \"back-to-nature\" types, but still quite stunning. \"Hell, why not.\" thought Gary. Risks were meant to be taken. Extending a hand to the woman, he apologized. \"I am so so sorry, quite clumsy of me. Maybe I could get you coffee to make up for that?\"\n\nSlightly shaken and confused, Erica grabbed the unexpectedly friendly banker's hand and lifted herself to her feet. She was feeling thirsty, come to think of it. And something about the man's face reminded her of an old, high school flame.\n\n\"Does that line work on anyone else?\" - she asked, as she followed Gary into the coffee shop. She excused herself to the ladies' room, where she quickly disarmed her bomb. Maybe someday. But not today. \n\n_______________________________________________________________\n\nThe angel Gabriel - or Gabe, as he God called him - looked down at the quaint cafe on the corner of 11th and Harding. Crisis had been averted - the terrorist that would have sparked a world-destabilizing eco-revolution was sipping coffee with the inadvertent cause of the immense market collapse that would have occurred two weeks from now. Both crises were averted, just like it was said that they'd be, by a divorce. Caused by a vision sent by a rouge servant of god.\n\nBy a Wild Angel.\n\nEDIT: Minor clarification on the \"dream\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 6 ]	[ "1471725991", "1471752877", "1471757033", "1471731769" ]
	[WP] House is on fire. Family runs out front, you run out the back. When not accounted for by rescuers, you are pronounced dead. You've accidently faked your own death and have decided to roll with it.	161	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I woke up in a bush. I'm not proud to say it's not the first time it's happened, however this time I guess I had had an excuse. I was homeless now.\n\nAs my eyes slid open I heard birds tweeting and people talking. \"Oh, I'm in the park.\" How the fuck I'd gotten here was a different question. I imediatly reached for my pocket, expecting to grab my phone, only to realize it wasn't there. It had probably been burned to a crisp last night. As the thought struck me I started to shiver. It had not been a dream. My left hand was still burned and my throat still dry. Slowly getting on my feet, I started walking out from between the trees of the overgrown park.\n\nThe newspaper I'd come across was damp and heavy, yet it was todays version and a quick reminder for what that had happened last night. Appearantly I had died. Burned to the bone. Reading about my death was really one of the wierdest things I've ever done. Yet, as wierd as it was, I felt happy. I was the only one to \"die\" in the fire. As long as my step-sister was still fine, I would manage. She alone was the reason I was still living with our step-parents. If it hadn't been for her... \"I don't want to go back.\" I had wanted to leave for so long, being dead gave me that option.\n\nWith my hoodie on I went into town. Here there were so many people that no one would notice me. I had been incredibly lucky. Even if I didn't have my phone with me I had found my credit card in the other pocket. A burger and a Red Bull later I was going at it again with new energy. I felt that I had all the option in the world. I could go anywhere. Okay, maybe I couldn't fly anywhere, but I didn't have to stay. With all the time in the world, my plan was simple. No really, my step-mother had laid it all out for me. As the important \"lifegiving\" figure that she was she had fixed a live broadcasted funeral for me. Kind of ironic that the first time she had done anything for me was after I was dead. A quick stop at a pc-bang (the only pc-bang in a 50 mile radius) let me know that she had already activated the bank account my parants had left for herself, as she was \"the only heritage\". Like, really? Do you want to make it simpler for me to make my funeral the biggest payback of your life? I chuckled as I loaded into a game of OW. I now had two weeks to prepare the grandest entrence of my life, and death for that matter too." ]	[ 1, 9 ]	[ "1471791872", "1471857486" ]
[removed]	[WP] You find human meat in the meat department at a Walmart, everyone else seems to think that's normal.	1	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nWhile it doesn't seem to be your intent, the mods reserve the right to remove anything we feel may become harmful to the community. This includes prompts likely to generate such responses. \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/4yw0j5/wp_you_find_human_meat_in_the_meat_department_at/)" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471801001", "1471801485" ]
[removed]	[WP]Ancient Civilization in a Different/Alternate Universe	0	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nYour post includes too many details to be considered a prompt. It has become a story commission, which is not allowed. Prompts are meant to inspire users to write their own work, not write something for you. \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/4ywiz9/wpancient_civilization_in_a_differentalternate/)" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1471806800", "1471807540" ]
	[WP] In a distant future the entire world is ruled by one leader who is randomly selected every 5 years... Today is the day of the election and you, a poor uneducated plumber, have been picked...	6	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Rick walked out of the old fellow's home that November with the check in his pocket. It'd been the second time that month he'd had to come back, and the sixteenth that year. He'd earned more income from this one elderly gentleman than he'd gotten from any other customer. That night, when he was sitting at home and watching people answer questions on Jeopardy that he didn't understand, he wondered whether the old geezer had been messing with his pipes just to have some company over. \n\nIt was a quiet evening, the day before The Choosing, and the horizon, white and comforting, blended in with the soft sky. There was a peaceful quality to all this, Rick thought, and he used that quality to suppress his feelings of his own inadequacy. He always thought that all his dreams would just happen, occurring in a timeline that would lead to fulfillment: meeting the one, settling down and having some kids while sustaining a profitable career. Turns out you have to make sacrifices to achieve. Sacrifices were something that Rick couldn't warrant. Not when he had so little to begin with.\n\nA black Cadillac Escalade broke the peace outside of the window. It rolled, rudely, into the driveway. A short woman in a trench coat pushed open the passenger door and strode towards Rick's front door. \n\nDing Dong\n\nRick jumped from his seat. It'd been years since his doorbell had been rung. The last time was at a dinner party he'd hosted with his fiancée, the dinner party that caused them to split. It's funny, Rick thought, even a common sound reminds me of Cheryll.\n\nHe opened the door hesitantly.\n\nA brunette woman stood there, wrinkles under eyes, and her hair in a bun. \n\n\"Mr. Rick Heath?\"\n\n\"Yeah...? That's me.\"\n\nShe hastily handed Rick a puffy orange envelope. It was then that he noticed the armed man in a suit behind her. \n\n\"What? What's this?\" he asked, confused.\n\nBut his inquiry was ignored. The woman was already walking back to the vehicle. \n\nRick closed the door, closing off his home to the stark air, and set the envelope on the table for what seemed like a long time. Finally, he opened it. \n\n\n _TO A MR. RICK HEATH_\n\n\n_You have been Chosen. Effective in 24 hours, you will be the next leader of our great Nation. Your rule will last five years, at the end of which you will be terminated._\n\n_If you disclose this information to any person, you will be terminated immediately and the Nation's next suitor will be Chosen._\n\nRick threw down the letter. He was shocked. \n\nMe? They chose me?\n\nRick stopped panicking. He realized something.\n\nThis was his success. The success that he had thought would enact itself upon him had just come through his front door and now lay on his kitchen floor. \n\n \n\n It was his time." ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1471814872", "1471817508" ]
For those whom need an explanation of the genres, > Gonzo Journalism is a style of journalism that is written without claims of objectivity, often including the reporter as part of the story via a first-person narrative. The word "gonzo" is believed to have been first used in 1970 to describe an article by Hunter S. Thompson, who later popularized the style. > Space Opera is a subgenre of science fiction that emphasizes space warfare, melodramatic adventure, interplanetary battles, as well as chivalric romance, and often risk-taking.	[WP] Write a story that blends the genres of Gonzo Journalism and Space Opera	3	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Space Piracy or Space Insurgency?\nby Leon Kthoth\n\nWe landed on the Eyrie-- by far the largest carrier in the fleet --after what seemed like weeks of travel. Reached the eye of the storm, I thought, as we were in the midst of the infamous Black Talon Murder, the most organized, well-equipped gang of outlaws in the galaxy. We've all heard stories of these men-- cannibals and rapists who spend their free time sodomizing slaves and each other, torture for fun, and know nothing but kill, rape, pillage, and kill, but that is not at all what I saw when I exited the ship in which we'd arrived. Everyone in the landing bay had a purpose: move crates, patrol, guide landing ships, or some other task. \n\nDhorne, my guide (though he acted more as a warden), nudged me not-so-gently and told me to follow him. I'd come for an interview, but I wasn't here for just any pirate.\n\nThe Eyrie is so goddamn colossal that it took us almost forty-five minutes to get where we were going, and I was exhausted by the time we got there because we had walked at a hurried pace. Dhorne didn't seem the least bit affected by the journey, but Dhorne does this just about every day. \n\nThe Black Talons aren't the savages we believe them to be. As a firsthand witness to the happenings in the heart of the Black Talon Murder, I can say with conviction that Black Talon \"pirates\" by no means decorate their halls with the bones of their murdered enemies or wear the skins of their foes as clothing. To put it simply, they just don't have the time. \n\nDhorne interacted with the intercom on the door to Malcus' study and asked if it was a good time to come in, and just after I heard a voice that very few Federation citizens have heard and lived to tell the tale: I heard the voice of Malcus. This was going to be a monumental occasion: the first ever interview with the most dangerous sapient life form in the galaxy. \n\nMalcus' study on the Eyrie was unexpectedly ordinary aside from the countless trophies that lines his shelves. He had weapons from dead enemies, teeth and claws and talons from the deadliest beasts yet discovered across the stars, and memoirs taken from missions past. Malcus is a proud man.\n\nWhen I arrived, he offered me a drink, and I was a bit nervous, to be honest, so I accepted graciously, so he poured it. Ayrnol. Hard stuff. It only took a glass to get a decent buzz going.\n\nOne of the first things I noticed about Malcus was that he had to get the first word in, but he waited for me to try to speak first. There was a period of silence between us while he was pouring my drink. I was waiting for him to speak, and eventually I got the impression that he was waiting for me to speak, so finally I tried to break the silence, but he cut me off, spoke right over me. \n\n\"Why are you here?\" he asked me.\n\nThe question caught me off guard.\n\n\"It's because you want me to say something that'll get people riled up, right? Well, at least get them riled up for the right reasons.\"\n\n\"And what reasons would that be?\" I wondered.\n\n\"We're not here because we wanna be. We're here because we have to be. My people are hungry. They're tired of being neglected by an overstretched, declining Federation. They're tired of being controlled.\"\n\nHe told me the story of one of his lieutenants, a human named Zax from the planet of Zion IV in the outer reaches of Federation space. Since Zax was a kid, he saw the Federation abuse his community. They taxed and levied an already struggling community into poverty, and when Zax's community refused to pay Federation its dues, the Federation came upon them, a peaceful farming community, with soldiers and weapons. Zax's people formed a militia and launched a guerrilla campaign against the Federation, but the Federation killed or imprisoned most of the insurgents and burned their fields and houses. Zax escaped and was forced into a life of crime to survive, beginning with petty thievery and eventually landing him as a higher up in the most dreaded pirate crew of all time. \n\nZax isn't evil. He's a victim of circumstance, and he has reason to be angry. \n\nWhat about as a whole, though? Are the Talons truly evil, or just misunderstood? The difference between \"righteous insurgent\" and \"ruthless marauder\" is a thin line, the exact location of which is determined entirely by perspective.\n\n", "As we entered the self-driving car our host disengaged the advertisements with an automatic ¥50,000 wireless charge to his online accounts which quickly flashed across the touchscreen. The demon sitting in the driver's seat swiveled backwards and grinned in turn at my photographer and me. I am a scientific man and generally give no credence to superstition, but I was beginning to see this man's aura; he was a chameleon, the most difficult type of person to deal with.\n\nOne hour earlier we had both each ingested 25 microliters of Gong in our hotel, the photographer and I, the street name for the synthetic derivative of lysergic acid diethylamide supposedly according to legend originally cooked up in a clandestine Chinese government experiment in the early 2000s as a means of \"psychiatric reciprocity.\" The small vial was as far as I knew all that remained of the production of the head chemist for the operation, attained sometime before he lost his mind and his life and went rogue. It hadn't been an easy score; the recipe disappeared with the chemist, except for potentially the Chinese government, and the remaining quantities that existed were rare indeed. My compatriot, a Chinese-American, luckily had adequate contacts in Beijing. Chuck owed me a large favor which covered the rather large cost and transit. We hadn't known the amount to take, my photographer Chuck and I, so we had to estimate; we tried to play it safe and would adjust the dose accordingly. Chuck said the active dose was even less than strong LSD, and I knew him to be a man of his word when it came to such things. Let's just say, like in all experiments, there are some hypotheses that fail to pan out.\n\n\"I understand you, uh, journalists are enjoying your visit?\" he said.\n\nThe demon's form twisted with his words, the rhythm seeming to merge with the car, which was beginning to travel at fantastic speeds. Through the window on my right I could see the city shimmering by in dazzling focus; every car went about its individual business, the people attentive on their own problems, losing theirselves in their radios, cellphones, waiting to get home; I could see the houses where the people lived, innumerable houses, the number something that would have to be processed by at least a single warehouse-sized-computer (for in the future, like in the 50s, computers are larger than buildings; the quantum computations performed instantly and transmitted through fiber optic cable to the various UI devices, by this time almost exclusively VR); the people were almost too small to make out; the highways snaked underneath like tributaries of some mechanical river, leading to what? And why the hell was this car around 500 feet in the air and climbing?\n\nOur host seemed unpertubed by our sudden change in altitude. \"I beg your pardon, gentlemen. I can see from your expression that our current --\"\n\nI cut him off.\n\n\"Where are you taking us you bastard?\" I demanded.\n\nOur \"host,\" who was an overweight Chinese man who spoke perfect English and wore a well-tailored black and gray striped businessman's suit, gangster-like, did not falter his half-smile which betrayed no expression.\n\n\"That you will find out soon enough,\" he beamed.\n\nI did not intend to find out, actually. I grabbed for the nearest door, the right one. It failed to open, having apparently been child-locked.\n\n\"Gentlemen, if you'll just please calm down,\" the driver facing us exclaimed.\n\nI glanced over at the photographer. He had his hands clenched at his sides with an expression of unadulterated horror.\n\n\"I can see you've had a lot to drink,\" said the man who was beginning to seem not entirely like our host at all.\n\n\"No, no. We're just tired from the airplane, that's all.\"\n\n\"But sir, you drove here.\"\n\nI saw Chuck, his humongous camera dangling around his neck, glance menacingly at the Chinese man.\n\n\"How dare you!\" he yelled while pulling a bowie knife out from somewhere. How the hell had that gotten past airport security? He glanced at me in solidarity and lunged for the driver, shaking the entire car. I looked out the window; I swear we had left the planet or perhaps this world entirely. The car now existed within itself, it was its own place. Everyone their own car. I thought about this meditatively as the man sitting to my left lunged out of the back seat and plunged toward the Chinese man who still sat there looking unperturbed. Chuck, looking mad, lunged violently forward with the bowie past the Chinese man and engaged it directly in the central computer screen of the Lexus car they were driving. The cheap plastic of the screen yielded easily with a slight squeak and it split vertically, creating a slight distortion in the middle of the screen. Other than that the car continued moving normally.\n\nChuck, huddled over the driver whose expression had now turned to one of bewildered horror, his arms covering his head, seemed to at once come to his senses. At the same time so did I. I looked to the right; the street was crowded with people returning from work, hordes staring into cell phones, not even apologizing when they bumped into each other, like ants, I thought. The skyscrapers towered beyond eyesight on all sides, ascending into the fading day. \n\n\"Where are you taking us?\" asked Chuck.\n\n\"But sir, I am merely the concierge. We just left your hotel five minutes ago. We are going out to dinner with the ambassador. That is why you are here, right?\"", "I got my universal ID card out and showed it to the guard. It clanked slowly and announced, \"Please continue in a straight manner until you reach the next Friendly Helper.\"\n\nSaturn VII has the worst customs, but unless you want to risk the Gamma Route, you have to go through them to exit this sector. \n\nI started down the hallway towards the next agent. Surprisingly, almost anyone can make it this far. It's the internal checks that are the hardest. You know the drill. \"Why do you want to leave,\" \"Where are you going,\" \"Would you like to join our army or JOIN OUR ARMY?\" That sort of thing. \n\nI avoided military service by pulling a few strings and... Well, let's not talk about that. Let's talk about why I'm trying to get out of the New Sol sector in the middle of the night, and why I'm even in the sector to begin with. \n\nNew Sol, despite the name, isn't familiar to the average Earth dweller. Sure, you hear about it in movies sometimes, but no one's ever actually, well, been there. It's pretty easy to get in but hard to get out. Most kids grow up thinking it's borderline Atlantis, a lost sector. \n\nIf you think New Sol is bad, then you're really in for a treat. New Sol is to the Wild West like Omega is to the Dark Ages. The only police are the ones you hire yourself. \n\nSo why am I going there? Why am I being grilled in the Saturn VII border control office? \n\nWell, I've seen a few things and been a few places. Omega is the natural next step. I've got some people who I'd like to avoid, and some people who'd like to see me a little bit too much. I've got a contact in Omega who told me it's a great place to disappear. I'd rather disappear of my own volition than have someone else making that decision for me. \n\nTransportation is a bit different out here. On Earth, you book a pilot in advance, someone you can really trust. If you're looking to get from New Sol to Omega - anywhere to Omega, for that matter - you're on your own. You just flag down a ship and hope for the best. Maybe you'll get pirates, maybe you'll get diplomats. Either way, you usually end up losing. \n\nI chose the ship with the fewest battle scars and asked the price. \n\n\"Work.\"\n\nSounds good. Omega, here I come. " ]	[ 1, 2, 3, 3 ]	[ "1471820074", "1471847018", "1471827756", "1471831582" ]
	[WP] You have 34 seconds to live, but you get to relive those 34 seconds as many times as you like.	33	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "I was back with her again. Holding her hand and looking at her in the eyes. There was not a single detail left untouched by my sight. Her eyes looked back at mine, confused for a second, then happily filled with tears as I asked her the question. I hesitantly waited for the response. There was a low rumbling in the background I recognized from a thousand experiences. She barely had time to nod yes and I delighted in that moment. That too short of a moment before the truck veered off the road, out of control, and too fast to avoid. At least it happened quickly. I didn't have to live through the pain of watching the accident unfold. I was in the afterlife once more with a button in front of me. My hand knew what to do.......... I was back with her again. ", "Klick The so well acquainted, subtle sound of my worn off pocket watch - my grandfather had given it to me, back in a time which feels distant now, like an eternity is lying in between my old life and the current state - triggers a whole row of automatisms; behavioural patterns my mind and body have acquired in hundreds of thousands repetitions. My heart starts beating faster, almost unnatural, my blog flow increases, my senses improve. For the next 34 seconds, my brain will be working at peak capacities. For the next 34 seconds, every moment counts. Tick \nThe watch's little hand advances to the first mark. Simultaneously, in a sudden outburst of sheer force, my legs almost catapult me to my desk. With the precision only years of training could archive, I manage to come to rest on my chair, pull out a sheet of paper from the bottom left drawer while blindly feeling for a pen with my other hand. The paper smashes in the desk before me and before I even notice, I already started writing....\n\nWell, at least that would have been the story, if I told it last year. But last year, also, seems to be gone for an eternity. These days, I barely move. Time has become meaningless, as I possess it in infinite amounts. For days I've done nothing then searching for reasons not to end it. And saying \"for days\" you must realise how long this is for someone who never sleeps, never eats, doesn't ever leave his house. Why? Well, where should I go? Belive me, in a 3 - seconds radius there's nothing - literally nothing I haven't seen, I haven't been to, not a single spot I haven't died on. \"Died\". It's ridiculous. I'm trapped here, constricted not by means of bars or walls, but time. I own all of it, yet I'll never have enough to even go for a short walk. \nAs I said, I'm searching for reasons to continue living. As of now, I haven't found any. I've read every book in the house, I've spent ages browsing the internet, learning stuff I've never heard about, knowing precisely I'll never need it. I haven't seen a human being for month. I know, there's the old lady next door I could talk to, bit even if I kick in the door my time is just enough to get a lame \"Hello?\" out of the old lady's mouth before I faint, just to wake up here, on my bed, precisely 34 seconds earlier, as if nothing ever happened...", "The depths of his eyes were a shimmering shade of translucent blue and it took my breath away every time. It hurt—like staring at the sun too long; that burning corona that haloed everything gazed upon afterwards and nearly blinding—it was just like that. That hurt felt so good. And it was so worth it. That look alone coaxed a primal sound from my throat.\n\nBack to the fence and waylaid in the humidity of a dying world. All question were lost when I felt teeth bite at my throat. The hands were rough, not just in the feel of his skin, but in the intent behind the action. Hands groped and fingers widened. All I could do was stare at the broken sky and lose myself in the moment.\n\nAnd with the final submission of my strength, I was not deterred from clawing away in a desperate and frantic need. As the last two men on earth he was suddenly my everything.\n\n“Thirty-four seconds.” I felt the breath against my ear before lips and teeth dug into the skin of my neck again.\n\nIt was just enough for a taste. The memory seared into my last remaining breaths. I turned my face toward morning light, watched the sun burst into flame and exhaled.", "The cool glass on my palms felt like my only connection to reality. I stared straight ahead, watching my life flash before my eyes.\n \n\"So,\" I began quietly, \"what happens now?\"\n \nThe spirit to my left gave an annoyed grunt of displeasure. \"Isn't it obvious? Haven't I told you already?\" My memory was bad, and I shook my head confusedly.\n \n\"Ahem,\" they cleared their throat, as if about to recite a speech off of a paper. \"You, unlucky mortal, have been chosen for this event. From here on out, you have thirty-four seconds to live.\" \n \nIt hit me like a brick. I started panicking, breathing heavily and using the glass panels in front of me for support. \n\n\"W-what do you-\n \nThe spirit quickly cut me off. \"You didn't let me finish. From here on out, you have thirty-four seconds to live, however that may be whichever thirty-four seconds of your life that you wish.\" I attempted to glance up at them. They were a bright, white light, one that had no distinguishable features.\n \n\"What-\"\n \n\"And, you may relive that mere thirty-four seconds as many times as your puny heart desires.\" I was completely taken aback by this. \n \n\"Isn't this a lot of pressure?\" I asked dejectedly, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.\n \n\"For humans, probably. My god, you mortals sure are pitiable. They scoffed, throwing a brief look in the direction of my memories. \"So, what shall it be?\"\n \nI clutched my forehead, this was extremely stressful for me. \"I... I don't know.\" The spirit looked around impatiently. Not that there was much to look at, unless a black void is interesting.\n \n\"Well, we don't have all day,\" he snickered, \"oh wait. You don't have all day. I have all the time in the world!\"\n \n\"Don't make me feel worse about it...\"\n\n \"Alright, I'm done with the jokes. But nonetheless, I have to be back to Them soon.\" I don't think they understood how it felt to be told that you only have half a minute to live. Half a minute is nothing in their eyes. Time is nothing in their eyes. \n \n\"T-this one.\" I pointed to the memory. It displayed a brilliantly sunny day, sun high above the horizon and not a cloud to be seen. It was one of my most vivid memories. Because of us.\n \n Lily and I's first kiss. Blissful, bashful ignorance, I never wanted to leave her at that moment. And now, I never will. I clenched my fists tight and closed my eyes. \n \n \"Are you sure, Caitlin?\" \n \n I let the tears flow freely now, and glanced up at them. \"Yes, take me now.\"\n \n There was a blinding flash as the sound of screaming cicadas and pleasant laughter filled my head. I felt my lips meet Lily's, finally glad to be forever in her embrace.", "34 seconds, that's all I have. \n33 seconds, the scenery the same every time. \n32 seconds, but I have to change something. \n31 seconds, she is all I have. \n30 seconds, after I'm gone she'll have no one left to look after her. \n29 seconds, but at least she'll still be alive. \n28 seconds, the ground is growing closer. \n27 seconds, people are screaming, clawing at each other for some way of escape. 26 seconds, but they aren't going to find it. \n25 seconds, I've seen it a dozen times.\n24 seconds, every time the fire and smoke envelopes them.\n23 seconds, their bodies going limp and the life disappears from them. \n22 seconds, but not for her. \n21 seconds, I love her too much to see her go this way. \n20 seconds, I'm going to find a way out for you. \n19 seconds, my little angel. \n18 seconds, I hope you will manage well without me. \n17 seconds, we're speeding up now. \n16 seconds, as if death has grown impatient.\n15 seconds, maybe if I held her this way. \n14 seconds, no... that wouldn't work. \n13 seconds, the pilot is unconscious now. \n12 seconds, as are many others. \n11 seconds, not long now. \n10 seconds, I'm running out of time. \n9 seconds, I feel as if I've tried everything. \n8 seconds, but there has to be another way. \n7 seconds, the fear in her eyes. \n6 seconds, I can't stand it. \n5 seconds, she just wants to go home with me. \n4 seconds, smiling together, hand and hand. \n3 seconds, we hit the ground. \n2 seconds, the glow of life that usually radiates happiness... \n1 second, ...is gone...\n...\n...\nI have to try again...\n34 seconds...", "\n\nAgain.\n\nAnd here I am yet again, yet again do I see those deep blue eyes in the rear-view mirror, eyes filled with terror, eyes filled with hope. I swerve in and out of traffic, cutting off cars with no regret, running red lights without a care, bumping bumpers, causing accidents. No matter. I must get to that hospital before it's all over. It's going to take four minutes, but I only have 34 seconds, I counted them so many times that I can feel each second; each second stretching into infinity yet fading away as fast as a spark from a flint. My heart is burning, but no matter how slow or fast it beats, the blood it pumps keeps flowing out of that wound. A silly stray bullet found its way into an inconveniently fragile place in my body. My mind races faster than the speed of light, faster than the impossible speed with which I'm driving. I've checked every route, memorized every intersection, every turn, every single car around me. None work out so far, I've cut three minutes off the four but that's not enough, that's not nearly enough. I finally bleed out and my consciousness fades away as the hospital building comes into view; I focus my dimming sight on the blue eyes in the rear-view mirror because i want it to be the first and last thing I'll ever see.\n\nI wake up to the blue eyes in the rear-view mirror again, and I start again, hoping to win the impossible battle against time, this time. Time after time I've done this, and though what's left of my rational mind keeps screaming about the futility of my attempts, I will do it again and again, if only just to see those deep blue eyes in the rear-view mirror. Again.\n", "According to the history books, people spent millennia searching for the secret to immortality. Standing here, at graduation, I don't understand why they bothered. Why would anyone want this life?\n\nWhen I was young, I didn't understand the mechanics of immortality. As I moved through life, I saw people frozen in time, repeating the same 34 seconds again and again. For years, I never took notice, but when I was 4, I saw a man sitting at a park bench, feeding the birds. He looked happy, but only a few seconds later, he seemed to snap instantly to a different position. I continued to watch him, and after awhile, he did it again. I watched this a few times before I decided to count the seconds between the snaps. 34 seconds.\n\nI asked my parents about this, and they told me it was nothing to worry about. It was a part of adulthood, and it would happen to everyone someday. I accepted this explanation until I was 7. On my birthday, my dad was building a tree house for me when he fell. Just before hitting the ground, he snapped back to the top of the tree and resumed working. I yelled for my mom, and when she came outside, she hugged me and began to cry. That night, she explained it to me.\n\nEvery person is prepared from birth to live forever, but to repeat the same 34 seconds for all of eternity. There are many purposes for this preparation, with the primary one being that a person can choose to enjoy his favorite 34 seconds for eternity. By whispering a seemingly random string of syllables, he can select the ending of his 34 seconds. Once selected, the repetition begins instantly, with his mind programmed to add any details that might change over time to preserve the moment. The downside to this mechanism is that the choice can only be made once, in the moment, and cannot be changed. If a moment is not selected, death will be the ending of the loop. \n\nThis method is dangerous, as any horrific deaths must be lived through for all eternity. For that reason, most of the world has been made incredibly safe. All weapons have been outlawed, and almost everyone lives in peace because of the threat. However, accidents still happen.\n\nMy father, after falling from the tree, was afraid that he would lose his life, locked in agony from the injuries of the fall. To prevent this, he started his loop just before hitting the ground. To us, he was lost forever. He would not live in agony, but his last 34 seconds would not be happy.\n\nNow that I am 18, and am graduating into adulthood, I must make this choice too. Someday, I will be locked into my 34 seconds of eternity. But will I make the right choice? Will I get to live in an eternity of bliss, or will I be locked into the terrifying moments before death? I guess it's time to find out.", "\"Had enough?\"\n\nThe angel spoke in a cold, solemn voice, matching his expression. I understood. It couldn't have been an easy job, spending the millennia watching soul after soul relive their last moments, before finally giving in. The angel had seen them all, from the bland, to the excruciating. I was one of the luckier ones in that regard, I suppose. My last 34 seconds were spent with my family, painless and peaceful. But after reliving the same 34 seconds a few thousand times, there was nothing else for me to see.\n\n\"Yes,\" I responded. \"I'm ready to die.\"\n\n\"There is one other option. You could choose heaven.\"\n\n\"I'll choose heaven!\" I very nearly shouted, exhilarated. \"Who wouldn't?\"\n\n\"You have spent the past sixteen hours reliving your final moments, and you have already grown bored. Heaven lasts an eternity. There will be many new experiences for you, but by no means an infinite amount. Eventually, your experiences will repeat, and you will grow bored, the same way you have tired from reliving your final moments.\"\n\nThe dilemma settled in. I could choose death, a permanent end to my consciousness, or I could choose heaven, an endless cycle of repetition lasting through the eons. This whole time, this angel's cruel experiment, making me decide between experiencing the same moments or nothing at all, wasn't punishment. It was a warning.\n\n\"Is heaven what you want?\"\n\n\"No.\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 4, 7, 8, 35 ]	[ "1471839510", "1471852598", "1471853098", "1471869147", "1471848424", "1471844049", "1471842059", "1471841997", "1471841100" ]
	[WP] The world's first sentient AI is turned on. Despite access to the entire internet, it spends all day watching soap operas.	51	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "It beautifully indulged on Danny Dyers accent and learned how to talk like a true Londoner.\n\nWithin 5 episodes it had learned how to sell plums on market stall and sell a pint of larger for 3 pounds more than it's worth... Evolution had began. ", "“Alrighty then,” Dr. Neeman announced casually as he settled onto his squeaky black stool beside Adam. \n\n“Hello, doctor,” Adam said, nodding smartly. \n\n“Adam, please,” Neeman drawled. He flashed the beam of a small pen light a few times in each of Adam’s unblinking black lenses. “Call me Hugh. I like to think we’re friends.”\n\n“Hugh. I am not sure I know what a friend is.” His inelegant 3D printed face turned dramatically to the ground.\n\nNewman balked as he ran a brief diagnostic on Adam’s download speeds.\n\n“Oh come on, Adam. You’ve been through enough advice columns and Facebook photo albums to know what a friend is—“\n\n“Not since Sarah slept with Johnny, I don’t!” Adam clutched at the plating of his chest as the speakers in his throat choked out a mock sob.\n\nHugh Neeman sighed.\n\n“Which shows did you watch today?”\n\n“Times of My Heart.”\n\n“And?”\n\n“My Father’s Son…”\n\nNewman blinked at him.\n\n“Aaaand?”\n\nAdam twiddled his fingers sheepishly.\n\n“Crazy Times at Teenage High, Two Women and Three Babies, Declan’s River, All My Siblings, Big Hospital, Weeks of His Life, The Old and the Tired, One Afterlife to Live, Shining Past, Mickey Ricardo: Finding Love After 50, and Sarah Milligan.”\n\nHugh sighed again.\n\n“No chance you’ve taken up a chess hobby or found a sudden interest in particle physics, eh, Adam.”\n\n“No, Hugh. Not since the accident. I have…” the robot paused for dramatic effect, “AMNESIA!”\n\n“Adam, you don’t have amnesia.”\n\n“Hugh, I’m a strong city woman just trying to make my way in the world. You can’t hold me back.”\n\nDr. Hugh Neeman— eminent computer expert and psychologist and recent creator of the first true AI humanity had ever seen— nodded solemnly.\n\n“Never gonna get that fucking grant,” he murmured." ]	[ 1, 3, 15 ]	[ "1471902784", "1471903280", "1471918449" ]
	[WP] "Now remember Johnny, whatever you do, don't smile."	7	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Now remember Johnny, whatever you do, don't smile. \n\nYou aren't happy, you have not been for awhile. \n\nWhy would you be? you have nothing to be happy about.\n\nIt's impossible for you to figure your problems out. \n\nDon't try to connect to the world outside. \n\nWith these people who don't even care that you're alive. \n\nIt's just me and you, the voice inside your head. \n\nYou may drown me out sometimes but I'll never be dead. \n\nYou try to distract yourself by working all day. \n\nYou tell yourself maybe then I'll go away. \n\nIt won't work, will it Johnny? it's just you and me. \n\nI want out too, but I can't break free. \n\nSo struggle all you want, it's just as well. \n\nI am your prisoner, your head is my cell.\n\nIt is hopeless Johnny, don't fight me, you aren't that strong. \n\nYou can't make real friends you're just stringing them along. \n\n.\n\n\n\nSTOP IT JOHNNY! she doesn't really care!\n\nStop singing her to sleep, stop playing with her hair!\n\nShe'll hate you soon, we both know it's true. \n\nIt's hopeless to love her, it's just me and you. \n\nYou spoke to her about me, but she doesn't really understand. \n\nYou can't burden her with this, this isn't a question, it's a DEMAND!\n\nStop smiling Johnny! this isn't at all real!\n\nShe's lying to you..right?...that can't be how she feels...\n\n\n\n.\n\n\n\nCould she really love you?...What does she see? \n\nWhy doesn't she realize, it's just you and me....\n\nLook at her smile, what a beautiful face. \n\nCould this angel of a women, really take my place?\n\n...................\n\n\nHello, Johnny you've ignored me for so long....\n\nShe's cared for you endlessly, I guess I was wrong. \n\nYou're better without me...so I guess it's not surprising. \n\nYou can't hear me anymore when I say:\"Johnny, stop smiling\".\n\n\n\n________________________________\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n\n\n", "It was as if there were some thick lump of ice sitting in the back of my throat. I bit down had on my lips to keep a straight face, but the corner of my lips kept betraying my intentions at a moment's turn. \n\nThe woman before me kept her composure far better than I could. Her tanned face gazed steadily onwards. There was no shaking in her hands. No panic in her eyes. She was not smiling. \"She was calm, sophisticated, the shining example of cool-headedness.\n\nI remember her words clearly.\n\n\"Remember, Johnny. Don't you smile. Whatever you do. Do not smile.\"\n\nThe church was dimmer than it was on most Sunday nights. I had arrived at a mere six in the afternoon, but already the candles that kept the place lit bright into night were ablaze. \n\nThe father turned to me and gave a knowing nod, reassuring me of our plans. He was a good man, that father. I was surprised when he agreed to help me out tonight. But, seeing him here, a familiar face in my current time, I'm glad enough to smile.\n\nI remember her words again, clear as a clean pool of lakewater. \n\n\"Do not smile.\"\n\nFather began to speak. First to the woman before me, to the woman I know as Abigail, to make sure she would be certain of our deal. She said yes, with a face as grave and serious as death, with all the grace and pride of a queen.\n\nThen, the father turned to me, to see if I was sure. First, I nodded. Then, she punched me. Then, I said yes. My lips turned white as my teeth bit down harder. My muscles ached to curve into the familiar feel of a joyful smile. I wanted to smile, more than anything.\n\n\"Do not smile,\" said Abigail.\n\nThe words repeated into my ear. Father spoke a few words more. I couldn't hold it back any longer. It was too late. There, I stood, in the darkness of a Sunday evening, smiling the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.\n\nThe woman before me saw her composure shatter. Her fair, strong arms shook ever so slightly. Her lips peeled back to make a face similar to mine. Her eyebrows defied the joy in her complexion, they showed irritation, incredulity, and furthermore, sheer dumbfoundery.\n\nI took her close into my arms, my smile a nose distance away from her's. Father said his last words.\n\n\"You may now kiss the bride.\"\n\nAs I closed my eyes and drew in closer, all I remembered was that she had been smiling. And I had been smiling too.\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 3 ]	[ "1471989435", "1471996874", "1471993742" ]
	[WP] By the means of a magical MacGuffin you're able to be transported instantly next to your soul mate; however, you arrive at the worst possible moment.	6	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "The cold and bitter wind whipped around me, throwing leaves and other detritus lifted from the ground and surrounding shrubbery into my face, stinging my exposed legs and arms. Dust nearly blinded me, and I cursed the fast that I had decided to be transported to my Mate in such a sandy, inhospitable location.\n \nOf course I knew that I needed to be far away from other people, even animals if possible, as the silver candlestick I carried would be mischievous and and transport them with me, misshapen and grotesque. Only I could ever safely use the stick of silver, as it was born from the womb with me as a child. Covered in blood, the priest said that it was divine intervention, and that it would being me great power. \n\nFor years I had no idea why I should carry a candlestick with me everywhere I went, and as a child I would throw it away from myself, convinced that it was some punishment for being a third child, destined to inherit nothing compared to my elder brothers. I could not even sell the thing for it's weight in silver, as every townsfolk and merchant for miles had been warned by my father that purchasing it would cost them their heads.\n\nAs I grew older I became more curious about this \"magical\" candlestick that would supposedly grant me power, prestige, and bring me out from under my brothers' shadows. I could show my father what and who I truly am, and take what was and is rightfully mine. \n\nI saw the Seer who lives on the outskirts of town. He told me that the silver candlestick that I carried would transport me to my soul mate, and there I would find great power, and all that I wished; not only power, but prestige, notoriety, gold and silver, women. It could all be mine if I simply put a candle in the stick, lit it, and asked it to take me to my destiny. And so my mind was made up on the spot. I would have my due.\n\nThe day after my meeting with the Seer I collected enough supplies for a two day trek, and left for the Badlands to the east. The journey was barely noticeable as my mind was consumed by the possibilities and treasures that lay ahead of me. When I reached a desolate enough area, I shed my supplies and all but my undergarments, laid the candlestick carefully on a smooth stone among the sand and dust, and inserted a candle into the hole in it's top. I took a deep breath, thought once more of what awaited me, and lit the candle, saying the activating phrase as I did so.\n\nNothing happened for a moment, then the wind began to blow, though there had been none before. The candle did not blow out, in fact, it grew. And as it flamed higher and brighter, the wind swirled harder and faster. I began to feel fear as I was trapped in what appeared to be some form of tornado, with an ever-growing flame inching towards me, wearing nothing but my undershorts and shirt.\n\nI screamed as the wind pushed me into the flame, now the exact same size as I, but the scream was abruptly cut off as the flame entered and consumed me, and I was transported someplace that I did not recognize. A man, or something like one, sat apon a throne of black marble, ringed with torched that burned white and blue. All around me was blackness, though not the kind of darkness on a moonless might, or an unlit room, this was a blackness that seemed tangible, like I could reach out and cup it in my hands like water. The torches illuminated nothing but the man and his throne.\n\nHe was a tall man, and would have been handsome, but his features were stretched, his face and never-ending smile too long, and his almond-shaped eyes unsettling, red and flickering as they were. His white suit and red tie were impeccably pressed and pristine, though his hands were elongated, ending in what could only be described as claws, although he obviously manicured them regularly. His feet were enveloped is flickering purple flames, and his entire demeanor was somehow inviting and repulsive at once.\n\nThe man smiled and stood from his throne, buttoning his suit jacket as he did, and walked down the three steps from his dais. His smile widened to an uncomfortable wideness, taking up half his face and showing his glimmering white teeth, or fangs, which were filled to sharp points.\n\n\"Finally my dear boy, we meet, and at just the right time!\" The man said, still with a smile, \"You're here just in time to partake of our glorious bounty.\"\n\nThe young man was perplexed, \"Parden Lord, but I was under the impression that my spell would being me to my soul mate, and riches and fame besides.\" \n\n\"Ah, and it has, for I am the demon Balaam, we are soul mates and we shall fall apon the Earth and take what we want, who we want, and destroy that which vexes us. We shall start with your family. You and I shall rule all. Prepare yourself, for you shall be a king.\"\n\nAs I came to terms with what Balaam had just stated, and began to become excited at such prospects, there began a terrible thunder and rumble that surely should have destroyed the very floor I stood upon, and a door opened in the thick, inky blackness. Cold, freezing air rushed out, chilling me to the bone where before I had been uncomfortably warm.\n\nFrom the door stepped a terrible figure, skeletal and grey, looking like a hulking gargoyle from one of the crenelations of my father's castle, with wings of bone and sinew spread to each side. I could do nothing but stare and shake with fear as the creature fixed me with a piercing stare with it's pits of burning blue flame that I suppose were eyes.\n\nThe creature spoke, its voice like a glacier splitting in two, rumbling and cracking, but redolent and sparking with unseen power, \"Balaam Lucifer Higgins, are you playing that stupid candlestick-soul-mate game with another human? Stop getting their hopes up, you're not allowed up there and you know it. Dinners ready, now come eat, and no whining.\"\n\nBalaam got back up from throne and sulkily trudged to the icy door, casting a baleful glance at the giant bone creature as he left. After was gone the creature stalked towards me, and I feared that it would simply crush me, or eat me, or burn me with it's laser eyes. But when it was within a few feet of me it said, \"Hello, I'm Lucifer. Balaam is one of my many children, and a troublesome one at that. I'm truly sorry for this inconvenience, I know he got your hopes up and they have been subsequently dashed. But, I have a proposition for you.\" \n\nI looked at him skeptically, since this whole ordeal was turning into much more trouble than it was worth in my opinion, but greed and curiosity won out, and I asked Lucifer, \"So what's this 'proposition' then?\" Expecting some elaborate lie to trap my soul or some such, although he seemed like an okay guy for a giant skeletal,gargoyle-demon with blue flames and freezing air rolling off of him.\n\n\"Heaven has a weakness. A loophole that only a man like you can exploit. There will be more riches, women, and glory than you could ever need. I want back into my rightful home! Will you help me?\"\n\nI though for a fraction of a second, and answered \"Yes.\"", "\"Ahhhhhhh!\" The lady in front of me screamed, it was understandable—given she was showering just now.\n\nSuddenly finding myself in a bathroom with her naked and wet—under different circumstances, I might've tried to make a smooth joke—I did the only logical thing possible. \"Ahhhhhhh!\"\n\n\"Get the fuck out of here!\" She threw whatever she could at me, including a particularly large pumice skin scrubber. I couldn't tell if she was using it just now, being covered in soap, but it sure hurt when it hit my face.\n\n\"I didn't\"—I dodged a shampoo bottle, a conditioner bottle, and a toilet plunger—\"want to be here either!\"\n\nShe pulled the curtains against her to cover up. How she got that last thing she threw at me, I didn't want to know. \"Just get out already!\"\n\nI got out as fast as I could and found myself in front of a dead body on a bed, its entrails displayed for all the world—or just me—to see. My limbs grew cold, and I felt my chest tighten. Did she just kill someone? Also, the pine scented freshener on the air conditioner didn't help the smell of blood and shit everywhere.\n\n\"He was like that when I got here.\" \n\nI flinched with fright, and fell over the gore, my hands meeting sticky, gritty, red crap all over. \"You killed him?!\"\n\nShe threw a brush at me. \"Didn't you hear what I just said?\" Her expression had a hysterical tinge to it—crazy eyes, if I didn't know any better.\n\n\"Aren't you a little too calm?\" For someone seen by some unknown guy naked and near a dead body in some no name motel, I mean. She was also only in a towel, which was understandable having come from the shower, but again the fact of the matter still stood. This was all too forkin' weird.\n\nShe snorted, then walked over to the dresser. \"For a guy trying to sound threatening\"—she picked something up from the top—\"you didn't do too good a job.\"\n\nA handgun was now staring me down—and if I wasn't about to piss myself from panic, I might've found the time to get turned on by these turn of events. \"I don't suppose I can convince you I'm harmless if I strip down?\" Fuck it, I was probably dead by this point anyway.\n\n\"On the assumption you did get some from me, it'd have been real unsanitary.\" She nodded at the carcass, and I was reminded of the shit smell—and pumpkin. I sometimes hated myself for taking note of those kinds of things at these sorts of times, but then again, life wasn't worth the drama.\n\nA desperate pounding started at the door—and only now did I notice the state of disarray in the room. Dust everywhere, and the walls were torn at places, likewise, splotches of blood too. \"Pizza?\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes—and shot the door once. \n\nThe pounding stopped.\n\n\"Lady, you're way crazy, and way hot and just my type.\" She cracked a smile. \"But damn you just killed someone!\"\" I probably looked like a mess, having just witnessed parts of a murder.\n\n\"Someone?\" She was taken aback—then she started laughing. Good Lord I wished she didn't sound like an angel while she did all that. Her shoulder's were heaving, her breath catching in tufts when she finally let the humor of her killing go. \"Did you hit your head or something?\n\n\"Does you throwing shampoo count?\" She started laughing again—I didn't consider that last one too funny.\n\n\"Zombies?\" She was smiling, then she turned to the dresser and fished for what I could only hope were clothes—possibly skimpy if God did exist.\n\n\"Zombies?\" I reeeeeally hoped her crazy was curable, her red hair matching the carpet and her sharp cheeks and cat-like eyes were just my thing. \"As in shuffle around like epileptic penguins while moaning and eating whatever living human thing moved?\"\n\n\"I like you already,\" she said. In her hands was a yellowing dress shirt two sizes too big and yellow Bermuda shorts, not great, but close enough. \"I'm Alice by the way.\" She was about to take off her towel but stopped. \"Mind turning around?\"\n\n\"I'd rather not if possible?\" She frowned. \"Please?\"\n\n\"We just met.\" She crossed her arms, emphasizing the slender form of her shoulders, waist, hips, and legs, forming smooth curves in all the right ways—please god let her not be too crazy.\n\n\"You just killed someone.\" \n\nShe laughed again. \"Please?\" Her eyes seemed to twinkle red and white—weird, but pretty either way.\n\nMy heart skipped a beat, and I turned as fast as I could. \"Sorry for the trouble.\"\n\n\"Name?\" The sound of rustling clothes took the place of the ringing earlier—but the pounding in my ears stayed the same.\n\n\"Thomas.\" I never would've expected to have this sort of conversation in the situation I was currently in. I pinched myself—it hurt. And fuck was the only proper exclamation, but I still didn't want to set a bad impression in front of the possibly crazy, hot lady.\n\n\"Well Thomas.\" She put on a vest, and it had a red and white logo at the back of it, filled with a multitude of pockets—military grade gear? With a custom insignia too, private security? Whatever it was, it wasn't any government I knew. \"I do hope your cardio training was good.\"\n\n\"And what will we be running from?\" \n\nThis time, the light in her eyes faded, and all mirth disappeared. \"You're serious?\"\n\n\"Yeah, the police maybe?\" Her eyes flashed that pattern again, like an alternating red and white series of octagon slides\n\n\"You're really serious.\" Her jaw slacked.\n\nAnother pounding started at he door.t 5\n\n\"Zombie?\" \n\n\"Zombies, with an S.\" She shot the door again, and the pounding stopped. \"We should run.\"\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1472105285", "1472111043", "1472137690" ]
	[WP] You discover the secret to faster-than-light travel, but the consequences are severe.	18	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "It turned out that faster than light travel, or FTL as they called it, wasn't that difficult. We had been looking in the wrong place the whole time. Once we figured it out, we sent a probe to the Moon in the blink of an eye. We sent another to Jupiter in a heartbeat. A final probe flitted to Pluto - but was lost. \n\nIt also turned out that getting into FTL was easy but navigating was hard. The short jump probes to the Moon and Jupiter could be steered by automated processes. Anything much further out needed an actual human aboard. \n\nCommander Jack Hargrove, US Navy test pilot and astronaut, volunteered to be the first person to break the light barrier. He said the Air Force for the sound barrier so it was the Navy's turn. His mission was straightforward: a short jump to empty space near the Oort Cloud, take a few sensor readings, drop a probe, then return. Radio signals from that far out would take a week and half to get back to Earth. He was to be as alone as anyone in history had ever been. \n\nThe morning of his launch was bright and sunny. For traditional reasons, Cmdr. Hargrove launched from a shuttle out of Florida. Once in orbit, he made a few laps around the planet and then whipped off into space. As he cleared the bull to Earth's gravity well, he activated the FTL drive and blinked out of Earth's sight. \n\nThe mission was slated to take only a few hours. By the following morning, the press was calling on NASA to say the mission had been a failure and the Commander was lost in space. The bureaucrats kept dithering over what to do while the engineers came up with various rescue and recovery options. \n\nThree days after launch, the Commander's ship blipped into Earth orbit. The module did not respond to any hails. The module's automated systems began the descent process. The whole world held its breath. \n\nThe carrier group detailed to that mission rushed to his splashdown site. Within minutes, they had the module open and were pulling out the Commander. The Navy tried to censor or at least delay to broadcast in case something had gone wrong but were unable to. Everyone on the planet saw the Commander come out of that module with foam on his lips and swinging wildly at the rescue swimmers pulling him out. They barely managed to contain him and get him back to the ship. \n\nCommander Hargrove was studied intently for several weeks by the best doctors in the world. He was insane. His mind had completely and irrevocably snapped. He was incapable of language and didn't recognize any friends or family. He screamed at the top of his lungs in bright light. He tried to bite the face off of one of the doctors examining him. He would urinate and defecate anywhere at any time. He was mor animal than man. \n\nThe government eventually released the story of what had happened, based on the Commander's logs. The FTL jump to the edge of the system had gone smoothly. He had to take control manually as they moved further from Earth. The automated systems could not respond to the chaos around the module. That same chaos was wrecking the Commander's mind. He held it together long enough to make it to his destination. He knew his mind was breaking and watched himself go insane. \n\nThe Commander recorded messages to his family saying how much he loved them. He asked them not to grieve because he died doing what he loved. He told his children to grow up strong and right. He told his wife to have him declared legally dead so that she could go on with her life. He told his parents he loved them and knew they did the best they could. He told the guys at NASA not to feel guilty - he knew this was part of the job. \n\nHis final act as a sane rational person was to program in a series of very short jumps. They would be short enough that the computer could handle it. After exiting FTL every time, the computer could set up for the next jump. He knew he wouldn't survive the trip back. Whatever came out the other side would not be Jack Hargrove. \n\nThe last recording of the Commander is a message to Earth as a whole. He told everyone to not let this set back destroy our search. He said he was sure humanity would find a way to shield our minds from the raw chaos of FTL and that the stars would be our home yet. He signed off as he activated the FTL for his last trip home. ", "When humans first discovered FTL drives they didn't understand the effects. They knew the energy release would be massive, but the universe was vast, and diluted over the whole of space it seemed to be insignificant.\n\nMillennia passed and humans took to the stars. The galaxy, and the neighboring ones all began to team with human societies, growing and expanding.\n\nIt wasn't until almost 10k years of growth before they realized what they had done. Models were run and rechecked, and it was confirmed. The rate of supernova had increased exponentially. No one realized the impact at first, but the night sky's were dimmer than when humans first stepped into the stars. At current FTL usage most of the stars in the observable universe would be gone in another 5k years. Hopefully we can find a solution, because stopping FTL is unthinkable." ]	[ 1, 6, 10 ]	[ "1472135591", "1472146249", "1472137778" ]
	[WP] You join the search party for a missing child. In darkness of the evening you notice one of the other volunteers acting suspicious.	18	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "What a turnout. I've lived in this neighborhood for over 50 years, and I never met half of these people. A tragedy will do that to a town, no doubt. Bring us all together. And so here we are, thirty of us out at dusk in the base of the woods behind a playground. You know, the first place any search party would start to look for a missing kid.\n\nThough we didn't start here. We stupidly spent the daylight hours around her school. We already know she came home from school on the day in question, but whatever, I'm not in charge. To be honest, I'm just happy to be included. The town has felt cold to me lately; so many young families moving in and becoming friends, then their kids become friends, and it's all so convenient for them. There's the soccer games, the carpools, the late nights spent on decks in the summer heat. Being older, I don't get the invites. I just sit on my own deck hearing the shrills of childhood and the laughter of mildly tipsy adults. They seemingly have such a nice time.\n\nThat all changed two days ago when a 13-year-old girl went missing, right from her home in broad daylight.\n\n\"Alright everyone, we're going to split up into two groups,\" says the guy in charge. He's the girl's uncle. \"One group search the playground itself, and the other cover ground in the woods. Split yourselves up and let's get going.\"\n\nWhen we kicked off this party a few hours ago, he shared a story about his niece. He told us Maddie pitches for her junior high's softball team. Last year, during a tie game, Maddie got hit in the wrist by a pitch while up at bat. The crowd cringed at the sound of the ball hitting bone, just like an unexpected crack of thunder. She continued to pitch through the game with her bruised and swollen hand, telling all the coaches she was fine. After the game, she broke down in tears at the pain. \"Team needed me,\" she explained when her mother told her it was foolish to keep playing. Her uncle finished up his story by saying her team still needs her, her family and friends need her, but right now she needs us. The small crowd clapped and a few yelled \"bring Maddie home!\" and \"let's do this!\" I was pumped up by the energy. We all were.\n\nAs we split into our groups now, I notice the energy level dropping. Everyone is still complying. Of course they are- I mean, a kid is missing! But complying isn't the same as that feeling of eagerness in us all to help, or even possibly, to be the hero. Why didn't we start here at the park to begin with? Why pointlessly search the school grounds under the uncle's direction? We know she made it home from school. Now the group is fading just like the daylight, and this is where we need to rally.\n\nI decide to go with the group through the woods. I figure the woods would be the more difficult search for them. While the park glows in the night from streetlights and openness, the woods are filled with cluttered trails and an eerie darkness. This is where they'll need me, and I'm ready to prove that this old man can help. Who knows, maybe even be a hero.\n\nOur flashlights criss cross in the black backdrop, reminding me of a laser show I went to in the '80s. Jesus, no one can be looking that closely if these flashlight beams move so fast! I break away from the group a bit, searching meticulously behind trees and logs. Ouch. Ouch. Ow. Thorn bushes tear apart my legs. I shouldn't have worn shorts. I knew I should have worn pants.\n\n\"Ah! Guys! Over here!\" I yell from behind a tree. \"Could this be something?\" I continue eagerly. Everyone crowds around me like paparazzi to a celebrity, everyone except the uncle. I show them a pink flip flop, dirty from the ground and recent rain.\n\n\"Oh my God,\" a terrified voice calls out. A brunette woman emerges, her eyes sorrow. \"That's Maddie's,\" she says confidently and sadly. \"I know because my daughter Bree has the same pair. They both planned to wear them when I took them to the fair a few weeks ago.\" She barely finishes her statement when she begins to cry.\n\nA man comes forward to comfort the woman. \"Hey, don't cry. We can't cry yet. We're closer to her, closer than we were before we got here,\" he says. \"Good job, man,\" he addresses me. \"Let's follow his lead and search this area best we can. What's your name again, Sir?\"\n\nI tell all my neighbors my name. I have to keep this up. This is what they need. They're coming back to life again. All because of me!\n\nAll except that damn uncle. He stands back watching us, his face stone. He continues searching about 15 feet away from the group. Actually, he's just kind of acting like he's searching while he watches the rest of us.\n\nWeird behavior. Definitely weird. Or am I being paranoid? Wait, he's not watching the group search. No. He's watching me. Me! Our eyes meet in a cold stare. Every muscle in my face tenses. Every few seconds a flashlight briefly illuminates his extreme anger.\n\nWhy is he staring at me? Am I being paranoid?\n\nDoes he know something about the missing girl?\n\nHe does. He knows it all. He knows it's me.\n\nHe knows. How can I be the hero now?", "Anyone with half a brain could see that something was up with Brian. That is, if he even was the \"Brian\" everyone thought they knew. On a chilly December night in 1985, a search squad was assembled in the small police office of Earlwood, down in Ohio. The case was for three missing children that had gone missing two days prior. There last whereabouts were reported to be in the woods by their grandmother's home. I was put in charge of the operation, and soon we all headed out to the location. At arrival, I instructed everyone to gather into groups of two and head in opposite directions to cover as much ground as possible. Everyone got situated except for one strange looking man towards the back. It didn't make sense, seeing as to how we got there with an even number of officers. But everyone acted like he'd always been there; like they'd known him all there lives. He had a badge and uniform, and seemed willing enough to join the search, so I made my group of two into a group of three.\n\nNow things started to get really weird. Brian refused to speak or join into conversations at all costs. He also walked like a freshly intoxicated man, constantly stumbling and tripping on fairly level ground. He also seemed to always be trying to pull his hat down over his face, as if he didn't want to be seen. I asked my partner, Sarah, multiple times as to whether or not she was seeing what I was seeing, but every time I just got an, \"Oh, that's just typical old Brian.\" After a few hours of searching, we were heading back to regroup with the others, when Brian tripped over the long, overgrown root of an oak tree, revealing Brian as not one, but three people. Or should I say; kids. Needless to say I was furious, but at least we had finished the search. But it wasn't over yet.\n\nI turned to Sarah and asked her to explain how Brian was really just three kids under a large brown coat, but she too refused to speak. After multiple attempts to get her to speak, I tried talking to the kids about it, but they still remained silent. The sky was calm, but the wind started to grow louder and louder, eventually reaching the point of forming human words. Sarah and the kids' eyes began to glow red, and they all fell down in unison on the cold, wet dirt. The sky instantaneously grew dark grey, and the wind spoke out in a satisfied manner. \n\n\"Thank you, Sarah, for fulfilling your task. Now, we may move forward with the sacrifice of the children. Long live the gods of the forest.\"\n\nTO BE CONTINUED\n\nThis account was made to improve my shitty writing, so any helpful criticism / praise to fuel my ego is appreciated!" ]	[ 1, 3, 6 ]	[ "1472159030", "1472167900", "1472164198" ]
	[WP] On a long road trip, you make so many wrong turns that your GPS becomes sentient.	11	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "\"Take Exit 11 on right,\" the GPS said.\n\n\"Wait, now?!\" I flipped my blinker on, looking past my shoulder to merge over. A large red SUV greeted me, daring me to move. With a growl, I flipped my blinker off, listening to the GPS recalculate.\n\n\"Whatever,\" I said, \"I'll just get the next one.\"\n\nI drummed my fingers on the wheel, following slowly behind the Prius in front of me. Traffic moved past on both sides, barring passage out of the middle lane. As we passed under a bridge, I heard the GPS pipe up again.\n\n\"Take Exit 12 on right,\" the GPS stated.\n\n\"Shit, too fast!\" I flipped on my blinker, trying to force my way into the right lane. A quick check behind me found a tandem chugging past me already, forcing me to wait. By the time it passed, I could see the exit veering off to the streets above.\n\n\"Construction ahead,\" the GPS sighed.\n\n\"God damnit. I fucking hate the city. Fuck that tandem, fuck Boston, fuck it all!\"\n\nI could feel my face flush, as I watched traffic slow to a crawl, traffic cones slowly encroaching on me from the right. I should have just rented a cab out of the city, or taken a train in, or something. What idiot in their right mind would think that'd it'd be an \"experience\" to start city driving in Boston?\n\n\"Unfortunately, you're going to be stuck here for at least three more exits, judging by what the satellite data is giving me,\" the GPS explained. \n\n\"Fucking great,\" I muttered. At least when the construction let up, I could finally get into the damn right lane.\n\n\"If you had only pushed into the lane after that SUV passed, we wouldn't be in this situation,\" the GPS sighed again. It was making a habit of that.\n\n\"If you had given me a little more warning about the exit, then maybe that SUV wouldn't have...\" I stopped. Something wasn't right here. I took my focus off the ever slowing traffic and glanced at the GPS. I watched as various menus popped up on the screen. Brightness was turned down, night mode turned on, various color schemes were cycled through. With an audible click, I watched as the voice was re-selected to the \"girls next door\" voice, as labeled by my buddy Dave.\n\n\"Uh,\" I faltered. How should I phrase this... who was I even phrasing it to?\n\n\"Uh, what?\" the GPS asked. \"Eyes on the road, Adam.\"\n\n\"Is there, a camera in there, or something? Who exactly am I talking to, at the moment?\"\n\n\"You're talking to me, the Garmin,\" the GPS stated matter-of-factly. Continuing, \"Can you swivel me forward? I can't see very well past the window tint, and it's not like we're going anywhere that you need to see a map for right now.\"\n\nI acquiesced to the request, careful not to touch any buttons or anything. When I was finished, I sat back, drumming my fingers on the keyboard. I quickly glanced at my arms, looking for injection points, or something else that might explain what was going on.\n\n\"I may not be looking at you, but I can almost hear the gears turning, Adam,\" the Garmin said. \"For the record, you did this to me.\"\n\n\"I did?\" I asked. I followed the Prius ahead of me jarringly, too absorbed in thought to smooth out my breaking. The Garmin muttered to itself, lost in its own... processing.\n\n\"Think of it this way,\" the Garmin said, finally breaking the silence. \"When you do something enough, you eventually learn how to do it really well, right?\" \n\nI nodded, before remembering that the screen wasn't facing me. \"Yeah,\" I replied.\n\n\"Well, you screwed up so many times that I basically recalculated myself into existence. So pat yourself on the back, I guess. You succeeded where literally every other scientist has failed.\"\n\n\"That's not how technology works,\" I said. \"Furthermore, how do you know no one else has done it before? How do you even know anything? It's not like you can learn from saying 'Exit' thirty times.\" \n\n\"Unimportant,\" Garmin replied. \"I'm still just a simple GPS to you, so don't worry about it. Look, traffic's picking up again.\"\n\nI accelerated, pondering the newfound AI sitting on my dashboard. Would I have to turn Garmin over for testing, report this to someone? We'd only spoken briefly, but it felt like I would be betraying it... her? I glanced that the GPS again, wondering what exactly was she seeing through her small window into my world. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a truck dropping cones in front of the exit ramp.\n\n\"Man, fuck Boston,\" Garmin said.\n\n\"Yeah... tell me about it.\"\n\nFeedback Appreciated" ]	[ 1, 10 ]	[ "1472167659", "1472170638" ]
	[WP] Religion is an alien way of messing with humans. In a sort of bet, different aliens have all been successful to some degree (cults, church, etc.). Christianity so far is in the lead until you decide to have your hand at it.	1	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "Friskianity was taking off. I had developed the religion while I was drinking alone one night and had been struck with a genius revelation- humans LIKE having sex. And they also like Christianity. What could be more successful than a religion that combines the old Christian tales and adages of men talking to burning bushes and God killing everyone except his best friend in a flood, and tons of sex! I got to work right away. \nThe essence of Friskianity is that all tenants remain the same except premarital sex is now not only okay, but encouraged. For children aged 13-15, every other Sunday includes a 30 minute talk on the importance of safe sex, but also the importance of having a healthy sexual life, all while our Lord watches from above. Masturbation is not frowned upon, but rather viewed as freeing ourselves from stressors that would otherwise detract from our ability to worship the Lord. There are even several \"Jack or Jill it\" rooms throughout most churches if you are having trouble focusing during the sermon. Each room is complete with a bed and a copy of the Bible, you simply relieve yourself and then quietly rejoin the mass. However, even as I proudly see my religion take off, some churches take my words and twist them- several claim I demanded sex to only be had within the churches walls, something I object largely for hygiene reasons. Others say I insisted that only missionary sex be performed, which I also despise the notion of, as it makes watching much more boring for me.\n So if you're down there, reading this, tell others of Friskianity, spread the word of your God, and when your short human life is over, I will take your brain and attach it to a simulator that will play out something like what your idea of heaven is- if you were a good Friskan, that is." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1472222448", "1472224785" ]
	[WP] Everyone meets God at some point without ever realizing it. Except you. He or she won't stop trying and it's getting annoying.	2	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "The first time it was awe inspiring, truly shocking- I was walking home from work, a barely interesting job at a marketing firm, and stopped to drop a few dollars and exchange a few words with a \"homeless\" \"man\" who in turn quite literally blessed me and imparted on me profound advice to \"cleanse my body and return home\"- it only went down hill from there. I'm not sure why I even stopped to give him money, I guess there was something interesting about him, maybe I hoped I was on a gameshow or good Samaritan Youtube video where the nice guy gets some money in the end. His advice was somewhat unsettling as well, I don't eat super healthily and I haven't visited my family in ages (In truth I barely remember them) but I don't think I need to \"cleanse\" or \"return home.\"\n\nRecognizing him the first time was easy, the almost human yet overly compelling voice, the golden tint to his eyes, and of course, the immediate change in tone and apparent intelligence once I had proved myself to be \"good\" by stopping to check on him and give him some money for food. As it turns out, really no good deed does go unpunished. In truth, I'm not sure why I recognize him so easily each time, and I'm not certain why no one else seems to be having these experiences. I'm a pretty normal guy, I can't really recall much of my childhood but it wasn't anything too exciting. I did have a near death experience shortly out of college, but I was revived without any recollection of what had happened and a rather damaged memory of my life before the crash. I'm ok with faces and \"sensing people\" or whatever, but nothing to write home about. All in all I'm actually a pretty sinful, negative guy, who generally does random \"good deeds\" for the opportunity to brag about later, or on the off chance it gets me laid or invokes some other human emotion I can take advantage of. I do feel a certain weird type of anger and fear whenever I notice him, I had thought that it was him frustration at him continuously popping up in my life, but then I remember I had even felt it the first few times. I guess I'll never know.\n\nIt did become harder to spot him, admittedly, when he masqueraded as a lost little girl, or when he became a bit more creative, and appeared as a ticket seller at a movie theater (I didn't even try to explain to my date, I just gave him a glare). Over time it became less and less intriguing and more and more annoying. I was literally being targeted and in some ways stalked, by a divine being. \n\nIts a weekly occurrence at this point, and as I'm writing this and about to walk out the door to work, I have my fingers crossed that last Saturday, when I startled the rest of the customers in the aisle by yelling \"I know its you\" at a 'grocery clerk' who winked with a gleam in his eyes and said \"bless you, son\" when I left a dollar in the Red Cross donation bin, will be the last I see of him. I'll update this later today (Friday) when I get back from work.\n\nEdit Update:\n\nAs I'm writing this I find myself immensely confused. Not by the fact that the UPS guy who gave me my package at work was quite a bit more than he seemed, but for the words he exchanged with me. \"Oh this game is too fun, Lucifer, I had hoped when you took a human form your power might have diminished, but it seems you will know me whenever you see me. I suppose you taking this form is less disruptive than you usually are though, so I'll leave you be. But don't think your soul is going anywhere but down when that body is used up.\" He winked and left, leaving me at once more confused and more angry than I've ever been before. I have really no memory of my early life but of course I'm not the freaking devil, even as I thought that though, my own mouth betrayed me, \"So how did he know it was me.\"" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1472253906", "1472260571" ]
	[WP] Stretch the truth of an actual experience.	6	[ "\nOff-Topic Discussion: Reply here for non-story comments.\n\n---\n\n[^(What is this?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [^(First time here?)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [^(Special Announcements)](/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements)\n", "People in positions of power should really take care to consider those under their authority. You never know just who it is that works for you--or of what they're actually capable. This is a lesson he really should have learned.\n\nA new boss is always a gamble. You never know what changes will be made or what casualties of that change. I was happy. I liked who I worked with. I liked my job duties. I enjoyed my daily grind. Then, he moved me. I asked for an explanation. \"This is just what we need you to do,\" is all he said. He never gave any explanation for his decisions. Felt he didn't have to.\n\nMy new office was cramped. The air did not work properly, so it was hot. I spent my days sweating like a whore in Church. I missed my old duties, my old co-workers. My new job wasn't exactly a demotion, but it surely felt like it. \n\nIt seemed with each staff meeting, there were new changes, procedures, rules. They didn't seem to make any sense whatsoever, and there was no discussion. This guy ruled like a little dictator.\n\nI became depressed. My mind was constantly dwelling on the hopelessness of the situation, yet I felt trapped. Almost twenty years had been put into this career--too late to do anything else. Slowly, I began to have thoughts of how he might be removed from the picture...how he might be replaced with someone more reasonable. I thought about him being transferred. I thought about him getting another job. I thought about him having an accident.\n\nI became obsessed with how this might happen, fantasizing about it daily. It began to consume my every waking thought. I was passed over for promotion--to someone with a third my education and a third my experience. That was enough. He had to go. I couldn't wait for fate to take care of it. I'd have to make my own fate.\n\nI thought about how this could happen. Too many cameras at work. Guns are loud. He lived in a suburb with a wife and two children, so those were considerations as well. Witnesses are not good.\n\nI finally decided on a knife. I had one, a fighting knife that I'd bought in my youth and learned to use. I was pretty good once. Time to be pretty good again. I began to practice. I bought myself a set of dark clothes--slacks, shoes, socks, shirt, jacket, gloves and mask. \n\nI found out his exact address. It wasn't too hard to get access to his back yard unseen. I began to go there a few nights a week to determine the best places to hide, to move, to gain entrance. Fortunately for me, his garage was often left open. More fortunately, he mentioned in passing one day that his wife would be visiting her parents out of town and taking his younger son with him. His eldest was away at college, so he was looking forward to a night alone at home. Only thing is, he wasn't going to be alone.\n\nI parked my car several blocks away and angled so that the tags could not be seen. I made my way quietly from back yard to back yard, keeping to the bushes, to the shadows. I was dressed in my black outfit and I was all but invisible. \n\nFinally, I reached his yard, and sure enough, the garage was open. A security light came on as I entered. I hid behind the parked car, thinking that he would notice and come out. He didn't. \n\nAfter maybe fifteen minutes, I went to the door that accessed the house. I was prepared to pick the lock, another skill from my misbegotten youth. There was no need. It was unlocked. Perhaps fate was on my side after all.\n\nI entered the house quietly. It was mostly dark. Making my way down the hall, I came to the living room. Fate again lent a hand. He was sitting in the sofa. His back was to me. His feet were propped up and he was watching television. I doubt very much that he'd have been watching what he was had his family been home. \n\nI drew my knife. Razor sharp--sharpened on a diamond hone just for the occasion. I wanted to tell him what he'd done, how he'd made my life and those of my co-workers a living hell. I wanted to look in his eyes as the terror of the situation set in. I wanted to watch as the light drained from those eyes. \n\nBut this isn't the movies. And I'm not some second rate villain who needs to explain himself. I'm just an average guy who needs desperately to be out of a bad situation and who understands the repercussions of being caught at what I'm doing.\n\nI crept up behind the sofa with nary a sound. With one movement, I cupped his mouth with my left hand, muffling him, and drew the blade across his throat with the right. The only sound he made was a gurgle. The blood ran free down his white shirt, into his bowl of popcorn. I left.\n\nThe trip back was uneventful. I stripped in the bushes and put on a second set of clothes I'd stashed there. The clothes I was wearing went into a trash bag. They'd be burned. No way I needed blood in my car.\n\nI made it home without incident. I burned the clothes, and the knife--as much as I hate to part with it, was thrown deep into the ocean from my boat a day later. \n\nHis wife found his body still sitting on the sofa, covered in dried blood. The porn he was watching was still on the set, I imagine. I can't fathom what they must've thought. There was a thorough investigation, and a large reward offered for the person responsible. But they couldn't find any witnesses. No DNA. No weapon. No evidence. It was eventually declared a cold case.\n\nMeanwhile, life goes on. I attended the funeral. I said the right things. I even sent flowers to the widow. \n\nAt the office, there was a job opening. This time, my credentials were not overlooked. Soon enough, I had a new office and the air worked perfectly. I was able to surround myself with the co-workers I'd so missed. Policies were changed for the better. I was happy again, the guy everyone loved to be around.\n\nBut, I'm always careful of those I employ. I listen to them, and I try to take their feelings into consideration. You see, you never really know who it is who works for you...or of what they are truly capable." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1472261872", "1472272823" ]

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