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[ WP ] Click 'Random Subreddit ' and research the random one you found and write it down , but like a Victorian explorer writing in his journal .
| Day 32: Heavens forsake this dreadful, cursed land! For over two fortnights, we have hacked and slashed our way through the thick jungle, and it *still* ranges on! Our guide, one of the indigenous savages that live in this hell on earth - a boy named Yippy - tells us that no one was supposed to venture this far. We payed his warnings no mind. If her majesty wants this dreadful place, we will deliver it to her.
Day 47: We have finally made some progress: On the horizon, a large mountain range became visible after one of the worst storms I've experienced in my short life. Yippy has become uneasy, and repeatetly told us not to proceed. I told him that if he wanted to buy his sister's freedom, he would lead us to the top of that mountain. He fell silent, and has n't talked since.
Day 53: With newfound resolve, we have quickly made our way to the foot of the mountain. As I write this, we're preparing our ascent. Yippy has gone completely mute. When asked directions, he'll only point and gesture. I ca n't deny it - there is something ominous about this mountain. I ca n't describe it, but the men share my sentiment.
Day 60: Stroker, Baker and O'Neal are dead. After five days of relatively easy ascend, we were suprised by an avalanche.O'Neal and Baker got caught in it and were swept down a cliff, Stroker ran out to help them and broke through an ice ceiling into a crevice. We can still hear him crying out for help, but it is beyond us. After three hours, his wimpering stopped. May god have mercy on their souls. Curse this damned mountain!
Day 61: [ Page is torn out ]
Day 62: Yippy has vanished. Two days after the loss of three good, man, and that little savage makes off with half of our already slim rations! Heaven and earth curse him!
Day 63: [ Illegible ]
Day 64: I ca n't believe this! I was only gone for [ Rest of page is torn out ]
Day 65: There is something in the air. Something thick and heavy, like the whole mountain is waiting in anticipation for something to happen. The men have lost all hope, talk about giving up and going home. I told them that whoever talks one word more about surrender will be executed by me. Tonight, I'll clean and load my gun before going to sleep.
Day 66: I am alone. My men have left me, and taken all the leftover rations with them. I decided to hunt for food. Hopefully there is some game up here. That strange feeling of anticipation is back. It feels like the mountainside is almost... buzzing. Vibrating. I'd lie if I said it was n't awe-inspiring.
Day 74: I have n't eaten in 6 days. It's starting to affect my judgment. But I will not give up. The top is so close. I just have to push a little further.
Day 76: This is it. As I'm writing this, I'm climbing the last few feet. I will be the first human to ever set foot on its top. In her majesty's and god's name! The top is coming into view! It's flat, good to stand on. I'm only a few paces apart. What is this? A strange cloud formation has appeared in the sky. Oh god, what is that?! In the name of all that is holy, what is that?! [ Writing becomes illegible ]
I have looked into the pits of hell! Only madness flows from it! I'll never see my sweet Mary again! Oh god, do n't let it get to me! Please, Lord, do n't let it get to me! Whoever finds this journal, If you value your souls and those of your loved ones **DON'T** come to the mountain range beyond [ Illegible ]
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/r/glitch_art
[ This picture ] ( http: //i.imgur.com/oQYwvOi.jpg )
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[ WP ] You just moved to a new neighborhood and you hear the music of an ice cream truck coming down the street . As you and your family walk outside you notice all your neighbors rushing inside and locking their doors and windows .
| Do you know the Muffin Man,
Who lives on Drury Lane?
How about the Ice Cream Man,
who smiles at your pain?
The neighbors, they all know him
and the horrors that he brings
They shudder at the revving truck
and the twisted song it sings.
`` Come now, one and all enjoy''
He utters, with a smirk
`` Soon, I'll gobble up your souls,
and another place I'll lurk.''
The brakes come on, the music halts,
the panel rises up.
`` Mommy, Daddy, where'd you go?
I want a Peanut Buttercup!''
I walk up to the window, clear,
eyes peering through the dark.
`` I'd like a frozen treat, good sir.
I'll eat it in the park!''
A smiling man, his hair asunder
is staring back at me.
His crooked lips part to say,
`` Relativity''
I looked behind to see the chest
where all his snacks reside,
The lid was cracked, so I could see
my parents' heads inside.
Beware the horrors of the truck
that never has a line
It's driven by the Ice Cream Man
His name: Albert Einstein.
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[ WP ] You find a mysterious website where you can anonymously request an item once a day and it 's delivered to you the next day .
| CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ’ VE WON!
It was the same ridiculous “ click-me-I ’ m-clearly-going-to-try-to-dupe-you ” advertisement I had seen so many times on the Internet before. I would be randomly surfing—maybe looking at the latest sports news, or creep—I mean checking up on my friends on Facebook, and BAM. For some reason, as of late, it would always find a way to find me. I wasn ’ t even trying to go out of my way to more…let ’ s say— suspicious—avenues of the Internet. You know the ones; they have the half-naked scantily clad women on them and the constantly flashing, seizure inducing “ CLICK HERE ” icons in huge, overly vibrant colors; I wasn ’ t even looking to be anywhere near these Internet schemes.
And yet, this day was different; really different. The whole day really was an awkward mess. My daily routine was, on numerous occasions, thrown off—I usually get out of bed at eight in the morning, on the dot, and yet on this day for some reason my internal clock, and subsequently my phone alarm which I swear I set the night before, didn ’ t function properly and I got up at eleven. “ No big deal, ” I told myself, “ things happen. ” And so I continued with my usual routine. Eggs and carrots for breakfast, a bottle of water, and a prompt workout for an hour and a half. It was all going according to plan.
Then it happened.
As I was heading out to go get some groceries to make my signature dinner; brown rice drizzled in Sriracha sauce with an apple and beans; a very elderly looking fellow sort of…I don ’ t know, just appeared into view and began the most soul piercing, spine shivering stare down I had ever experienced. His eyes were a hue of gray and brown; awfully upsetting if you ask me, and he seemed absolutely determined, hell-bent even, to try and force me into peeing my pants and calling the police. His steely-cold, almost soulless gaze turned what I can only assume was my soul into knots, like an elementary kid who just didn ’ t know when to stop tightening the shoelaces.
I briskly made my way past him, trying to avoid as much eye contact as humanly possible. He just wouldn ’ t stop though, and even after I was well past his body, I could just feel him continuing to try to tighten that darned shoelace until it killed me. So naturally I ran as fast as I could home, like a real man, and instead of starting dinner, booted up the PC and was oddly compelled to surf the Web.
Which brought me to the “ CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ’ VE WON! ” voice pestering my eardrums through the speakers and the vibrant colors on my screen. Usually I wouldn ’ t click, but this day—no, this day, I just had to click it. Maybe it was the old man tightening my shoelace again, or maybe I was just really stupid that day, who knows. But clicked it I did, and after a few seconds of page loading, a peculiar sight befell my eyes. Just a white page, no background image or flash animations; just devoid of color or pizazz, and a text box in the middle meant to be typed in, with the words “ What ’ re ya buyin ’? ” above it.
Is it sad that instead of being weirded out or getting suspicious, the first thing I actually wanted to point out aloud, to no one in particular because the room was empty, was that the URL read with a “ Geocities ” address? Isn ’ t Geocities dead? “ What the hell? Is this sixth grade all over again? ” I yelled aloud, questioning the Internet gods as if there were any to listen. With a tilt of my head and a shrug of my shoulders, I typed in “ a car ” and hit ENTER. I waited for a payment page to appear and scam me for all that I ’ m worth—then in an instant, the computer just shut off.
“ I ’ m even going to get a virus to boot. ” I muttered under my breath. Chalking it up to a slight PC malfunction, as maybe my computer needed to be defragged or something, I finished my dinner and went to bed.
Fast forward to around ten in the morning, and my doorbell was calling. Sluggishly arising from my slumber and hastily throwing on some basketball shorts and a tee, I walked from my room to the living room and to the front door. “ Um, hi there sir, I have a delivery for you. Sign please. ” An average fellow greeted me at the door, a smile on his awkwardly angular face. I signed the line, and he looked me in the eyes. Those eyes. I shivered from the spine to my skin and off he went. As he left, I was able to get a glimpse of the front of my house and low and behold, out by my sidewalk, was a green 1995 Ford Taurus. My goodness was it ugly.
“ Why is this disgusting piece of automobile out in front of my… ” before completing my thought, it dawned on me. The website.
I sprinted to my computer and pushed the ON button. Booting…booting…Windows 8…then finally the screen lit up. In a rather peculiar move, my PC decided to reboot straight to the website; that blank white page, but this time in red letters above the text box, “ What ’ re you buyin ’? ”
I started to type in “ five million dollars ”, but decided that the poor fellow who was trying to prank me probably couldn ’ t afford that at all, so I rescinded that and wrote instead “ a new laptop ”, knowing full well that my current computer was old and dying anyway. If this strange site did in fact have the power to give me what I wanted, then I thought in fairness, if I were to continue to use this site, the least they could do is give me a better tool to continue to be their customer on.
The day went by agonizingly slow. The anticipation for a new computer was the only thing I could think about. I made sure to type in “ new ” because the joker who owned the site previously just saw “ car ” and decided to pull a fast one on me and deliver me a toilet for a car. Finally, the night came, and as I climbed into bed and prepared to greet the darkness, I smiled. “ That new laptop better know how to play ‘ Titanfall ’, or else, ” I thought with a chuckle.
As the sun rose and its rays pierced through my window, I sprang upright. The day has come for a new laptop, and I planned on capitalizing on this wonderful site ’ s magic. A quick gaze at the clock—11 o ’ clock in the morning, it read. Strange, no doorbell waking me up this time, but maybe the delivery man was kind and just left a note and the package at my front door. After running down the stairs, I threw open the door and looked down at my feet to spy…a wide open laptop. The buzz of the internal engines were heard, and I found it awfully odd that it wasn ’ t even packaged properly. I held on to the thought that it might be damaged and that I could return it for an even better model. Alas, it looked like a perfectly serviceable Dell XPS, so I picked it up and walked with it over to my desk.
The screen was black, but I heard the humming from it clearly being on, so I rubbed the touchpad to awaken it from its slumber. What I saw froze my heart cold—the screen lit up to the same colorless white Geocities website. The difference however, was that now it hailed me with the words in bigger, red font, “ What ’ re you SELLIN ’? ” over the text box. I didn ’ t know what to type. Obviously the “ buy ” mechanic gave me what I wanted but now…the “ sell ” mechanic must mean that I need to give something in return. I heard a knock on the door that jolted me out of my seat. I turned to the door, then turned back to the screen. The blinking text input bar prompted me to answer the question.
Another knock. This time harder and more determined. I focused on the word “ SELLIN ’ ”, put my hands on the keyboard, and began to type….
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[ WP ] A failed science experiment superheats the Earth 's core , which in turn starts melting the crust in some areas . The floor is now , quite literally , lava . How do you survive ?
| I did n't want to get out of my cot, and I definitely did n't care about about the commotion outside our patchwork tent. She'd be back soon. She did n't have a choice. Like a planned entrance there she was, Mom whipped the tent open and yelled for me to get up and not so pleasantly reminding me how `` lucky'' we were while she stuffed a blanket into a stockpot. Lucky. So lucky.
Today is moving day. The elders voted before ceremony last night and it was keep up or become one of the lost. The thing is lately we have been moving up more often and this mountain is n't feeling so tall anymore.
Papa was pulling the stakes when I walked outside. Last night he told us about the temperature scout they sent to the top. I was n't ready for everything I heard but Mom said she could n't afford to insulate me from the truth. I said good morning to pop and quickly evaded Bridget by turning back into the tent.
At least I thought I evaded Bridget but when I saw her face in the opening I knew I was in for one of her `` deep'' conversations. `` Seventh generation... history... Mars one colony... blah blah blah.'' She wondered openly about what else was out there in the universe and if the other mountains were still up and if we'd be able to get across to everest. I'd never been happy to be scolded by Mom but when she walked in with her 10 minute warning I acted like I felt a wave of urgency and practically dragged Bridget out of the tent and wished her well on the trek...
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[ WP ] Ever since you were born you 've possessed the power to teleport wherever you 're currently looking . Depressed and unsatisfied , you decide to end your life by looking towards the stars . You 're not dead .
| **blink**
( okay so I may be stealing some rhymes from the Doctor Who band Chameleon Circuit's song'Blink', about the Weeping Angels )
Every time I close my eyes, I do a *Blink*.
Teleportation so simple, needing only a *Wink*.
Life has gone so harsh, I'm right on the *Brink*.
I wonder what would happen... If I looked up and
*Blink*
I'm in a strange city, I do n't know where I am.
Creatures are chasing and the air smells like jam.
Running quickly I try to ignore the foul *Stink*.
And once again, I commence to *Blink*.
I'm lost and bioluminescent panels glow.
I feel a panic and I just want to go.
My eyes are fluttering and I'm all over the place.
And then I look up... And now I'm going through space.
I'm now in a desert, where goblins roam,
I just want to get back to my home.
Fleeing from their spears of metal pink,
I look towards home, and I *Blink*
I miscalculated and I'm with low air,
I look to the brightest star and go there
I'm burning up but as in plasma I sink...
I do one last...
*Today at 7: A man appeared in Picadilly Circus, engulfed in noxious gases and temperatures approaching that of the sun. There are 30 casualties and one fatality. The remaining ash pile is unidentifiable to known tests, and the Science Agency says there is no cause for alarm, that it was simply a rate case of spontaneous combustion caused by a Solar Collector malfunction. And now for something completely different, a man with three buttocks. *
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[ WP ] You find yourself in a fantasy world , and the only way to return home is to become the most successful cabbage salesman , in the world .
| Can you guess what I did before I came to this world?
That's a trick question, there's your one big hint.
Still nothing? Really now, no guesses at all? Well fine. I'll just tell you. The answer is: *'' Not slaying monsters. `` *
Yes. Almost unimaginable, is n't it? You see, in my world there were no monsters. No magic, no Dark Wizards, or Dragons in the sky. I come from a peaceful place.
Ca n't be fathomed, can it? I thought not.
So it is, though, that the details of how I made my living are almost completely irrelevant. All the travelling, odd-jobs, seasonal work and otherworldly experience might as well be useless. No one in a fantasy world needs a guy with barely passable physical fitness and non-existent magical capacity. Especially not one who has a resume mostly related to work-orders, invoices, and excel spreadsheets. Taken out of my familiar life and thrown ass-over-teakettle into this one has left me useless.
Did I mention I still have no idea how the written language works? Over a year I've been here, and I still can barely understand the shop-symbols of the inner city.
Yeah. Listen here, it was a rough start. All the way over... There. The Magician's academy. My first memories are of that place. The fancy one, with the deep blue stone towers, and the glass windows.
There was Mage's circle, something to do with summoning and teleportation magic. I imagine that's what brought me in here. A large group of old and wise looking bearded men, eyeing me like a scientist might eye a strange bug on a glass slide. They threw my ass out onto the streets by the day's end, abandoning me to my fate. A cruel awakening, in a hostile world.
Still, I persevered. No money, no connections, a noted accent and the clothing of a foreigner: I had only the contents of my pockets to make it through that first terrible week.
Ah, that look. `` *Not so difficult*'' it says. I know that face well, and for you it may have been so. But for the likes of me... well, ignorance is not always bliss.
Every stranger here I passed was unfamiliar as the most odd and foreign person imagined. Young, old, rich, poor: Many carried weapons, of swords and staffs. They wore robes or leather, plated armor. Their skin and faces sometimes held deep scars and serious stares. Looks that dug deep into whatever they faced, serious considerations of violence on the edge of their every terse word.
In my world, a person with a weapon openly in the streets would be looked as like a mad-man. A person with weapons dressed up in armor? That's the kind of lunatic the authorities would come and take away.
But suddenly, I was the lunatic! My only weapon was a folding pocket-knife, and a dull one at that. My armor was made out of thin cotton, and the only leather I possessed was on my belt- and very possibly fake. I soon came to find that if I so much as left the city gate, I could be killed by the weakest of monsters which lurk along the fields and roadways.
It was an adjustment, to be sure.
If not for the Holy Church's charity for unfortunate souls, little more than a soup kitchen, I'd have surely starved to death. If not for their kindly extended hands, I'd likely have been gutted on a street-corner by cut-throats. I might have been captured by ruffians, and sold to labor or slavery.
How quickly I might have met my end, if I had not stumbled upon the way. My life's true purpose.
Now I collect and sell cabbages.
Hold that wry smile of pity. I see it, I acknowledge it, but I think you fail to understand: I can not hope to slay monsters. There is no hidden strength within my flesh and blood. I've paid the full silver-piece to confirm the hidden truth of my constitution, and learned I will never hope to cast magic either. As a warrior I can not succeed.
Even as I attempt to read the language, struggling with the slightest of sentences and scripts: I know it may be years before I can take a book off the shelf and understand its words.
But Cabbages... Cabbages care little for words.
Cabbages do not attack, maim, or slaughter those who handle them.
Cabbages can be picked by hand under the watchful eye and protection of the soldiers and adventurers, in exchange for the services of carrying their luggage and equipment.
Cabbages can be boiled, mashed, even put in a stew.
Cabbages are life.
For the simple price of a single copper piece, you may have one- or you may buy a dozen for the discount of ten. You see, ten sets of ten copper is one silver. One-hundred silver portions is one gold coin, and for one-hundred gold, a person might purchase permanent membership to the Mage's Academy. A privilege that can be granted even to one entirely ungifted in the magical arts.
You see, after one million and two-hundred thousand cabbages, I might find hope to return home once more.
Ah, your face has softened. Perhaps now you understand? The beauty that is the cabbage, the wonder that is the cabbage. A vegetable that should possess both halo and angelic wings to a chorus of holy voices. You see it now, see it as I do- perhaps only for this fleeting moment of comprehension.
I thank you for your purchase, and I welcome your return.
...
My Cabbages.
-- --
*Edit: If you like what you read, I drop most of my work over at r/jakethesnakebakecake*
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[ WP ] A well known , liked , world saving superhero neglects telling people his powers are based upon eating human flesh .
| The coroner had always performed his duties with pride, but examining the remains of a serial killer tested the typical respect he held for a corpse. This was the second cadaver he had seen that was killed by the city ’ s notorious masked superhero. It appeared the vigilante had n't had much respect for these men either. The first had a leg ripped off which was never found and it looked like the second had been left all night for the city ’ s population of wild dogs.
The coroner ’ s superiors apparently did n't have much respect for these men either since they had only ordered a minimal analysis. Seems everyone just wanted the scum off the streets and they didn ’ t care how. He was grateful that he did n't have to do too much digging through what was likely a rabies contaminated pile of flesh. In about twenty minutes the mess would be the crematorium's problem and he could head home and watch the hero ’ s latest escapades on the news. In fact the coroner wished all his case-loads were from the vigilante. His job would be much easier.
As expected, the coroner was in his car and headed home no more than thirty minutes later. He wanted to wait until home to watch the events of the day, but he couldn ’ t resist tuning to the local radio station. To his disappointment, the hosts were discussing a recent series of missing person reports from the local homeless shelter. Impatient, he turned off the radio and decided it would be better to wait anyway. Who would be next? A rapist? Another serial killer? No doubt there would be one. The coroner knew this masked hero was hungry for justice.
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( WP ) We 've been through worse ...
| Talking about freak accidents, this was definitely the freakiest accident of all time, or definitely top ten, at least. Greg had just been fired at work, although if you ask him, he ’ ll tell you that he was just let go, which you might think, there ’ s not really much of a difference. But there is a difference. Getting let go is like, Greg, sit down, I ’ m really sorry, the economy, you know these numbers, we ’ re going to have to let you go, best of luck to you. Whereas Greg wasn ’ t really let go, it was more of a I told you to stop coming in late, and do you know what time it is? It ’ s late. It ’ s too late. Greg, you ’ re fired.
“ Don ’ t worry Ronda, ” Greg tried to console his wife, “ We ’ ve been through worse. ” Which, was he ready to back that up with some facts? Had they really been through worse than this? Because this was pretty bad. Ronda had been out of work for a while now, well past the point where the unemployment wasn ’ t an option anymore. And what marketable skills did Greg have to offer to a new company? And how would he get past that why-did-you-leave-your-old-job question on any future interviews?
And even though Ronda tried not to cry, it was obvious that she was letting the despair of their present situation get to her emotionally, the idea of things getting any worse, well, she tried not to get too hung up on Greg ’ s words, the having had it worse before, she couldn ’ t untangle the idea of past or future worse, it was all pretty worse, right now.
But it was about to get a lot worse. Moving day, they barely had enough money to afford the one-bedroom studio they were about to downsize into, so paying for movers was totally out of the question. And then, yeah, they hoped at least one or two of their friends might have been available to help with some of the heavier lifting, but you know how Saturdays are.
And the whole making a Facebook event out of the move, “ Come and help Greg and Ronda move this Saturday! ” even though Greg told Ronda that it was a bad idea, “ Ronda, seriously, nobody ’ s going to want to help us move. And if you invite all of your friends, one, it ’ s going to look totally pathetic, and two, everybody else is going to see everyone else not coming, and so nobody ’ s going to even feel bad enough to give us some pity help. ”
Which wound up being absolutely the case, the whole event attracted three “ maybes ” and fifty-seven non-responses. So there they were, each of them carrying way more than they ’ d each carried in the recent past, the dresser that they ’ d bought at IKEA, Ronda had suggested that they disassemble the piece, transfer everything to the one-bedroom and then put the whole thing back together again. But on this point too, Greg insisted that they didn ’ t have the time, even though that ’ s all they had, free time, you know, seeing as how they were both unemployed and everything.
“ This thing ’ ll definitely fit through the stairway, watch, ” and it did, so Greg was technically correct. But there wasn ’ t much time for a victory dance, because just as they shimmied the last corner past that last awkward front-door angle, and again, I know that this is almost unbelievably unlikely, it was right at the same time that a truck, a moving truck of all things, the driver had lost control of the vehicle like two blocks away.
It must have been the brakes, because the two guys sitting in the front bench kept screaming, “ The brakes! Hit the brakes! ” the driver wanted to scream back, “ I ’ m trying, I ’ m trying! ” but he didn ’ t have time to, because he was hitting the brakes, they weren ’ t responding, and it was all he could do to maneuver the out of control moving truck from hitting any other cars, or pedestrians, or parking meters or fire hydrants.
And yeah, he was mostly successful, for two blocks anyway, which, considering the sheer amount of obstacles, the lack of any clear path to safety, two blocks was indeed an accomplishment. But unfortunately for Greg and Ronda, the driver lost total control right in front of their old apartment building. The truck spun around, slammed back first into a utility pole, and as it crashed to a stop, an almost identical looking dresser flew out of the back of that moving truck, landing right on top of the furniture they were just barely holding up off the ground.
It slammed down hard, right on their hands, all four of them. The damage was so severe that the doctors had no choice but to amputate, right at the wrists. They were in the hospital for a week, and being uninsured, judging by all of the hospital workers, not nurses mind you, but guys in suits, people asking about, “ Do you have insurance? ” and, “ Is there any way that you ’ re going to be able to pay for any of these hospital bills? ” it was obvious that they were getting rushed through the system, like lets get these beds available for some paying customers here.
Meanwhile, the owner of the old building had new tenants moving in. He took it as a personal loss, paying some new movers to haul everything out. And where? It didn ’ t matter, just get it out, I need this space clear by Monday. When Greg and Ronda were discharged from the hospital, they didn ’ t have anything besides a bunch of rudimentary prosthetics that, even if their cell phones weren ’ t dead from a week ’ s worth of not having been charged, they wouldn ’ t have known how to use them, or who to call to figure out where all of their stuff was, or where they should go.
And Ronda just lost it, she just started bawling, and Greg just kind of nuzzled his chest up to her face, a really sincere but nonetheless pathetic attempt to sop of some of the tears, the snot streaming out of her nose, “ Don ’ t worry Ronda, we ’ ll be OK, we ’ ve been through worse than this. ”
“ What are you talking about? Why do you keep saying that? ” Ronda managed to choke out through her long drawn out sobs. “ What have we ever been through that ’ s worse than this moment? Because I can ’ t think of anything. I don ’ t know what kind of suffering you ’ ve been through before, but this is definitely the worst that it ’ s even been for me. ”
And Greg just kind of looked down, his shirt was covered in snot, and he felt it starting to well up inside him too, the sadness, more snot. Yeah, this was pretty worst.
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[ WP ] You buy a special camera at the pawn shop . Every photo you take , it shows a snapshot of 10 years ago . You take a picture of your dog and it shows him 10 years ago when he was a puppy . Everything is all fun and games , until you decide to take a picture of your bedroom one night .
| It usually adds 10 pounds. But this one, this one is special. There's always one that's special.
I cast a shadow beside a tree outside the local elementary school. The gray of my limbs on the concrete overpowering the elegant gray lines designed by God's branches.
I sit. I wait. I need shots of as many young children as I can get. What will appear?
I grow bored and hungry and decide I'll return tomorrow. Delectable leftovers are waiting in my fridge. Calling my name.
I snap shots all over town on my way home. I'll upload them when I get there, but ten years is n't very long and I do n't really expect much.
Upon my arrival the stew of my dreams goes straight into a bowl to be microwaved and upon the
Beep beep beep
I head upstairs to the bedroom with my laptop.
I take one final snapshot of the bed where I'm about to lay. Then I remove the SD card to insert it into the computer's utterly inviting slot and plop down on the bed.
Click click click through the photos until I arrive at the very last one.
Ten years ago today, upon our old blue floral bedspread, lay my dark handsome husband beneath a beautiful bare woman. My jaw is drawn by gravity as I perform an intricate analysis of this age old scene. My heart feels heavier and heavier within my chest cavity with every passing moment, but I can not look away. I viciously remove the SD card and despite my better judgment, I start snapping photo upon photo upon photo. Stomping, marching, dancing around the room capturing every moment at every angle.
CARD FULL
My body feels heavy and I stand still, in the middle of my bedroom, feeling that weight. I feel paralyzed for some time, letting the balls of my feet sink into the carpet until I can almost feel the concrete beneath. We carpeted this floor together.
I finally feel ready to remove the card and insert it back into the laptop. A vivid slideshow appears with my husband in the center. My whole body is overwhelmed with emotion. A constant stream of tears tickle my face.
It's so beautiful. We were so beautiful. He has n't loved me like that in years.
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[ WP ] you travel to your best friends house and are hanging out like normal , doing what you guys usually do . Excusing yourself to use the restroom , you absentmindedly look behind the shower curtain and discover the bloody , lifeless corpse of the best friend whose house you are at .
| Dave, my best friend, had invited me over to do what “ guys usually do ”, and that's the kind of invitation a guy like me just ca n't turn down.
So, I obviously had get to his house. I had a real choice to make there, I could drive, ride my bike, take the bus, or walk ( I limited myself to considering those options, rather than the more extensive set of travel by plane, boat or hovercraft ). Eventually, I settled on an appropriate mode of transportation given the distance I had to cover ( the details of which need not concern you ), and set off. As I made my way there, I tried to focus on doing the traveling part properly, but I was also pretty distracted by thinking about our getting to do that guy stuff. I'd packed lots of things to help us in our activities.
My journey complete, I get to his place and start hanging out like normal. It was regular guy stuff; he took off my shoes and I took off his. We arranged our things around the room, and my things were certainly outclassing his.
But, after a while of doing the guy stuff, I had to excuse myself.
“ Hey Dave, I'm really sorry about this, but I need to use your restroom. ”, I said.
He seemed totally happy for me to do that, so off I went.
Now, I do n't know about you, but I can be quite absentminded. Dave has complained at me numerous times for accidentally crapping in the tub rather than the toilet just because I was lost in thought, so it was no surprise that I looked behind the shower curtain.
But rather than the empty bathtub I might have seen ( or the toilet bowl I was absentmindedly imagining ), I discovered a bloody lifeless corpse of the best friend whose house I was at.
Alas, I did n't know what to do. If only if this were like one of those writing prompts on reddit where every detail about what was supposed to happen was in the prompt and the notes, I'd have a clue. But as it was, I had nothing.
And I did n't even have _my shoes_. They were with my things in the other room.
|
[ WP ] You are immortal and indestructible and do not age . Every government is trying to capture you , contain you and experiment on you for the rest of eternity .
| Janet entered the cell.
Seventeen years ago, she was n't allowed to enter the room without at least five guards accompanying her, but overtime, everyone realized that Conrad was n't ever going to move. Everyone had long dropped their guard. It was a mistake that would cost Janet her life.
`` Have you done anything today?'' She asked.
`` Just thinking.''
`` What about?''
`` How is your son?'' Conrad asked. Normally they had small talk. He often asked about the sky, whether or not it was cloudy or if it had gotten any bluer since yesterday.
Janet was taken aback. `` He's doing well, I-''
`` Little Scotty left for college last week right? How is he doing? What is he majoring in?''
`` He's majoring in computer,'' and Janet paused.
Conrad uncrossed his legs and stood up from the cot.
It was the first time Janet had ever seen him stand. There was a moment where she felt pure fear settle into the bottom of her stomach like a heavy ball of lead. Her heart thumped in her chest and she wanted to scream, but Conrad moved forward with an eerie speed. He moved so fast for being such a tall man that he was.
He placed his hands on her chin and held her mouth shut and brought his face close to hers.
`` I wanted to wait for him to grow up and move out before doing this,'' Conrad said. He licked his lips lightly then placed a gentle kiss on Janet's forehead.
She slightly recoiled, but for the most part held still.
Conrad looked upwards towards the cell ceiling as if he were trying to peer through and see the sky himself. And then he brought his head down hard into Janet's skull.
It felt like someone had prodded her head. There was n't any pain. The only thing she was thinking about before Conrad pulled back for the second headbutt was how she was n't able to focus her eyes. Her left eye was peering off to the left towards Conrad's cot while the right eye watched as his Adam's apple seemed to gyrate up and down right before he swung down again.
After the second headbutt, she was unconscious.
Conrad continued until her face was caved in. Not because he was a violent person, but because he wanted to make sure she was completely dead. He did n't want to leave her suffering on the cold floor.
He turned away after he was done and reached towards the cell ceiling, allowing the muscles in his back to stretch. His spine popped and he let out a deep sigh. Using the stale bed sheet, Conrad wiped the blood from his face, and then grabbed the key card from Janet's waistband. He took a quick glance from out of his cell and towards the door at the end of the hallway and saw it had a finger print sensor on it.
Conrad sighed, then bent down and bit Janet's thumb off.
|
[ WP ] World 's worst sausage salesman . Always ends up Sexualizing the sasuage and losing the sale .
| John sunk in his seat. Another missed sale. `` I just do n't understand,'' he mumbled to himself. John had been down on his luck lately; if he did n't sell another shipment soon, his boss would, best case scenario, dock his pay. He shuddered to think what the worst case was.
`` Why the long face, champ?'' John looked up to see a young man clad in sports gear carrying a basketball. He had a muscular build, head shaven and skin as dark as caramel.
`` I might get fired... I'm a salesman and I ca n't push any of my products.'' John sighed as he remembered his last failure; the woman was so offended by his proposition that she slapped him across the face and stormed off.
`` Your stuff ca n't be that bad,'' the athlete smiled reassuringly `` C'mon, give me your pitch.''
*This could be my chance* John thought excitedly. *I could finally make a sale! * John gave a small smile. `` I have this sausage that would be perfect for you. Now you're probably thinking'what makes your sausage better than the other guys',' and the difference is in the size! Mine is so much bigger and juicier than the rest. Just shove it in your mouth and taste the juice overflowing. Just do n't bite too quickly, it gets really hot when prepared well.
The athlete just looked at John, mouth agape, eyes wide. `` Yo man, I'm not interested in what you're putting down.'' He starts to stand.
*Crap, I'm losing him* John panicked and began to rush his words `` C'mon, I have this huge sausage in my pocket and it is n't getting enough use.'' He dropped to his knees. `` Please, let me just shove it into you real quick. I promise you'll like it!''
`` Listen, no means no, and you should respect that.'' Disturbed by the salesman's persistence, the athlete quickly got up and ran.
John sunk further into his seat. Another missed sale.
|
[ WP ] The city gets new street lamps , but these lamps are `` smart '' . If a crime ( like a robbery ) or car crash happens under , or in the vicinity of one , the light will turn red as an indicator to the police . One night , every street lamp in the city turns red .
| 5 years ago Sydney city council voted to install a new series of lights in and around the Central Business District. The lights proved so effective that Council ’ s throughout greater Metropolitan Sydney installed them until the Australia ’ s largest city was uniformly lit by this latest and impressively remarkable technology. The lights worked like this: Normally they would operate as a brilliant white LED light, very efficient with superb endurance. However, the energy savings aside, the secondary use of these lights was in their intelligence circuits which would, and did, detect crimes in and around the area through various detection methods and then indicated that a crime, or other incident of importance had occurred by changing to red. This then allowed Ambulance and Police officers to easily locate the area and in most cases seriously reduced reaction times.
Forward 5 years.
Against all convention it was a warm and pleasant Sydney night when Adrian Spencer ’ s body hit the water. The splash was not a great one and was seen by no one. He sank, eyes open and unseeing into the depths of Sydney harbour, his passing unwept and completely disregarded by everyone everywhere.
It was an unremarkable murder, a small crime in a city full of small crimes but for one significant fact: Adrian Spencer did not exist. The body now sinking fast into the dark belonged in name only to one Adrian Spencer of Five Dock, NSW. Adrian Spencer was born 5 weeks before, a fully grown adult whose driver ’ s license showed the smiling visage of a young man 25 years old. Adrian Spencer would never be grieved for, would never be wept over, be loved and lost, would never be remembered because 5 weeks is a very short time in which to make the kind of connections that turn up to a funeral.
There are big crimes and there are small crimes. The murder of Adrian Spencer looked like a small crime. This time however the small crime was actually a whopping huge crime which had somehow just crammed itself into a box far too small for it and was trying to hide itself in the background noise like a gorilla in a tuxedo trying to hide in a flock of penguins.
Adrian Spencer, while unknown in life, would soon be known to every cop in greater Sydney. Adrian Spencer ’ s body hit the water and every single street light for over twelve thousand square kilometres went red and bathed the 4 million inhabitants in a worryingly red glow.
Some crimes lie in the dark awaiting the light of investigation. Adrian Spencer ’ s murder was found in the light. For one night Sydney Harbour, it ’ s still waters now encasing the late Adrian Spencer reflected the red like a biblical plague; a tide of blood entombing it ’ s unknowable dead.
|
[ WP ] Write a story that starts at the end of the story and ends at the beginning of the story , and have a plot twist at the beginning
| On the day of the visit things were supposed to be very peaceful at the orphanage; things were supposed to go smoothly.
Things were not peaceful. And they did not go smoothly.
`` You... stupid... little... *freak*!''
A vicious kick followed each of Sam's words, landing like the blows of some terrible drum. Spit flung from his lips as he shouted at the smaller boy and continued his assault, landing blows on the little rat's shoulders, back, head, whatever was exposed as Jason tried shielding himself, huddled up in a trembling little fetal ball.
A door down the hallway flung open on squeaky hinges. Feet rushed across the tile floor- two pairs of dress shoes and a pair of high heels- and it took both the orphanage director and the visiting man to drag Sam off the smaller boy. He was roughly hauled up against the fall wall of the corridor and then held down against the ground by the director. He watched, face smushed up against the cold stone floor, as that visiting couple rushed to Jason's side. The couple gently'uncurled' that pathetic little twerp from his fetal ball. The woman poured reassurances into his ear as the man checked Jason for any injuries.
He'd find a few of those, at least. Sam had seen to that.
He watched as the couple tended to the smaller boy, even as the orphanage director grabbed Sam by the neck and barked at him:
`` What in the name of God were you thinking, Sam?''
Sam looked up at the director, a cold sneer on his face:
`` L'il twerp is pathetic,'' Sam grumbled. `` And I do n't *do*'pathetic'...''
A day before the visit Sam found Jason alone in the sleeping area, skinny legs dangling off of Sam's cot as he looked at a photograph on the nearby windowsill. Sam narrowed his eyes at the kid:
`` What're you doing, twerp?'' He bared his teeth.
Jason swung around, black eyes wide:
`` N-nothing, Sam. I swear-''
`` You messing with my stuff?''
The smaller boy shook his head adamantly.
`` No. It's just... I was lookin' at your pictures, here. You've been here a long time, have n't you? At the orphanage, I mean?''
`` What about it, runt?'' Sam crossed his arms.
`` It's just... well...'' Again Jason looked at the window, but this time he looked outside, lips curled in a small frown. `` Does it ever get any better? I mean, do you get used to it, at all?''
`` Why do *you* wan na know?''
`` They say that no one ever really comes in and adopts a boy. Everyone wants girls. Or really *little* boys, maybe. Like five or six-year-olds. I'm just thinking...'' Jason looked away and shook his head. Sam could tell that the little snot was gon na tear up.
`` I'm thinking,'' Jason managed, `` that *I'm* gon na be here a long time, too...''
Jason sunk his head down and started freely tearing up. Sam scowled at the kid as he wept, shaking his head.
*Pathetic*.
Two days before the visit the orphanage director took Sam into his office. He explained the situation:
`` We got a man and woman coming here in a couple days,'' the director said. `` Nice couple. God knows why, but they're interested in *you*, Sam. Liked your picture and your profile, at least...''
Sam scoffed, flicking a few stray hairs from his shirt sleeve:
`` Heard it before,'' he grumbled. `` And it always ends the same way:'no sale'-''
`` This time might be different,'' the director folded his hands on the desk. `` They're quite serious about adopting a boy, and they've narrowed it down to either you or Jason- the new boy. When they come to meet you two later this week, well, that'll be the clincher, Sam.''
Sam reacted to this with an indifferent scoff.
`` Sam, for God's sake, you should be more invested in this process. You know as well as I that you're aging out of the program. You do n't get plucked out of here, and *soon*, you could very well wind up bedding down on the streets-''
`` I do n't mind,'' Sam said. `` I'm tough enough-''
`` But is that what you *want*?''
Sam stopped playing with his shirt. He looked up at the director, and for the first time his face was serious:
`` These people *really* wan na adopt a kid?''
The director nodded.
Sam perched his lips; he slowly sat up.
`` Well... what do I have to do, then? What should I do to make'em pick me?''
`` Do n't be yourself,'' the director growled. `` Couples like this one, well, they're not looking for a cocky and disrespectful smart-ass. That's evident, you know. What they're going to want to see is... well, more like vulnerability. You need to make them feel sorry for you, Sam. You're not out to impress them. You've got to show *weakness*, not strength. Try to be as pathetic as you can possibly be.''
Sam lay awake that night, absently staring at the ceiling above his cot. He thought about sundry things: a home to call his own, his own backyard, home-cooked meals, and a room to himself. He thought about a lot of things, and after a while they put a rather large smile on his face.
He blinked in the darkness; there was a small noise on the other side of the room, something like muted sobs coming from one of the other cots. He turned his head and saw the silhouette of that new boy- Jason- curled up and facing the far wall. He was doing his best to hide it, but his shuddering body betrayed him.
Sam rolled his eyes, and again he stared at the ceiling.
He put those thoughts of hearth and home out of his mind. They were a pipe dream, after all. Maybe he wanted them, and maybe he desperately wished for them, too.
But, in the end, he just was n't pathetic enough to deserve them.
|
[ WP ] The princess has been kidnapped by a dragon . However , all of the knights that have been sent to slay it failed . Left with no other options , the King has hired you , a necromancer , to save the princess .
| This was not how I imagined my weekend would go.
There I was, huddled behind a rock, fire spewing on both sides of me, and I had been so stupid as to wear this damn robe. I really could've sprung for any other garment. A shirt, trousers, really anything with a little more mobility. As stands, I was stuck and I needed to move.
I waited for the next breath of fire to pass by before I peeked out from behind my outcropping. Taking a quick look as to what was going on, I saw that Sirs Frederik, Jauns, and Belfrim were still shambling around. Belfrim was surprising, I really did n't expect him to last, he barely had any armor left.
I tried to move as quickly and quietly as possible, bolting for the stairs on the right side of the cavern while the dragon's focus was deterred. I had almost made it before looking down and seeing Belfrim finally fall over, my magical grip on him failing. Even if I wanted to use him again, there simply were n't enough bones left over.
I slipped through the doorway and quietly closed the door behind me, confident I had lost the dragon, and took a look around. It seemed like a cellar. There were barrels toppled over, aged alcohol far beyond its golden days still left in the ones that were n't broken, and another stone staircase leading upwards. I'd never actually visited Castle Napilim before, but I was pretty sure it would be like most of the others. I listened once more for any noise behind me, not that the dragon would be able to get through the doorway, but there did n't seem to be any noise. That was disconcerting.
I trotted up the stairs to find a hallway, the pictures from the walls torn, faded, or otherwise half burnt on the floor. Large portions of the wall to my left were gone, and what I assuming was left of the dining room was just bare cliff face, with a straight view to the ocean. That sure was a long drop. I quickly turned to my right as the chilly wind nipped at my back and found the next staircase up.
After a few more floors of freezing my ass off I finally made it to the the remnants of the King's bedroom. With a decent portion of the castle destroyed, it was relatively untouched. Missing pieces here, probably hustled out by the sneaky few who could get in, but the large pieces like the bed and painting of the old queen still remained. I took a seat on the bed to catch my breath.
Mages were n't built to use stairs or hike all this distance. How had I let the King talk me into this? And to go against a dragon? What do I look like, a dragon-slayer? Just because Geralf is off for the summer does n't mean I'm a suitable replacement, even with those useless lards he calls knights.
Panting, I realized I had no idea where the princess was, nor could I find a single corpse to use. Necromancy is so utterly useless without dead bodies. Sometimes I wish I would've gone into something more useful, like arcane sciences. In the midst of my thoughts, a scream from... below?
Shit, I'd missed her.
I got up running, heading down two flights of stairs to where I think the noise had come from. I had n't taken a good look when coming up. It seemed like a guest floor. Three hallways jutted out from where I stood. I stared down the one in front of me before moving to my left. Another scream from the first hallway. Something was off about it though, it sounded angry. I went back and began slowly creeping down the hallway. I passed three doors with no success before finally peeking into the fourth doorway.
There, the princess was hunched over, appearing to be trying to shove a bookcase aside. I stepped out from the doorway.
`` Ah, Princess?''
She whipped around, her face irate. `` Oh thank god, help me move this bookcase so I can find that missing fucking puzzle piece.''
|
[ IP ] A private investigator rents an office above a psychic .
| The door of the shop needed oiling.
Its loud squeal drowned out the mystic chime that was supposed to welcome visitors into the gloomy shop downstairs. What little atmosphere that remained was destroyed by the steady drip of a leak through a hole in the ceiling into a bucket that needed emptying.
I was pushing my way through a maze of string lights and fake cobwebs towards the stairs, when a tiny figure popped out from behind a tarot table.
`` Oooooh,'' she said. I think she was trying to be spooky.
`` Arghhh!'' I yelled, and leapt backwards into a cheap skeleton left over from a Halloween many years ago. Together we fell to the floor.
I picked a femur off my chest and sat up. The figure came closer, and I saw that it was a tiny woman, wizened by more years than I can count to without a calculator.
`` Do n't mind Angus,'' she said, in a voice that was almost as squeaky as the front door. `` He likes to dance. Back in the day he could do a mean foxtrot.'' She winked suggestively.
I stood up and put the remains of Angus on a shelf. On closer inspection, I was starting to think the bones were n't a cheap Chinese import. Plastic does n't get mouldy, does it?
`` I'm Sybill,'' she said. `` Seeress. Mystic. Witch. How may I help you? Tarot? Palm reading? I have told the fortunes of the Pope, Lyndon Johnson, and the Dalai-''
She broke off suddenly, and staggered as her eyes rolled up into the top of her head. I was about to leap forwards to catch her when she regained her footing, and began to chant in a deep sing-song voice.
`` You have travelled far, to end up back where you started. The road has been long and difficult. Now you face a crossroads. Will you pick the high road, or the low road?''
Her babbling stopped abruptly. She blinked and was suddenly back to normal.
My mouth hung open. `` Quit staring, young man,'' she scolded me. `` Tarot or palm reading? At my age I ca n't afford to waste time hanging around for you whipper snappers to make up your minds.''
`` Actually,'' I managed, `` I was here for the Private Investigator.''
`` Then why did n't you say so at once?'' She chivvied me towards the stairs.
I went up the stairs which, like everything else in these place, groaned from lack of maintenance.
To my surprise she followed me up. `` Do n't stop,'' she snapped when I turned around to look at her half way up. `` I have to do the stairs in one go these days, otherwise my hip locks up.''
I entered the top room, which was almost as cluttered as the psychic's shop downstairs. Papers were strewn over an old oak desk in the middle of the room. The leak below had originated in this room and eaten its way through the floor to get downstairs. At least it got to avoid the creaky stairs.
Sybill the Seeress took a seat in the moth eaten swivel chair on the far side of the desk, and motioned for me to sit.
`` I'm Ethel Jones,'' she said, her voice now husky from too many cigarettes, `` licensed Private Eye in Michigan, Illinois, and Cambodia. Why Cambodia you ask? Do n't. I do the questions. So, let me ask you: why do you need a private detective, young man?''
-- -
*Read more of my stories at* /r/jd_rallage
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[ wp ] The government has bred out anyone who can think two moves ahead and see consequences of actions.Thinking ahead is dangerous to their dystopian government Anyone who can play chess is executed .
| Mist hung over the city like a damp washcloth. A group of rebels sat in misery beneath a tiny awning, waiting for the signal to attack. Among them was a single man, dressed in an extravagant tuxedo and tophat, clutching a walking stick with a round, golden head atop it. One of the rebels shifted uneasily and broke the silence, `` Uhm, Mr. Monopoly, when is the attack supposed to start sir?'' she asked sheepishly. Mr. Monopoly turned a preened eye at her and delivered a warm smile.
`` Any minute my dear, we're just waiting for the checkers to queen up and the electric companies to fall under our control and then we can strike!'' he beamed. The rebel gave him an empty stare for a moment before continuing.
`` Okay I get that sir, really I do, and I'm glad that this is the rebellion so the Chessters are n't considered heretical, but... how are we going to do that?'' Mr.Monopoly's face wavered for just a moment before returning to it's normal cheery self.
`` It's not a problem at all my dear,'' he chuckled, `` I will happily explain.'' The collected rebels sighed in relief, because they had all had the same question. After all they were in the rebellion because they wanted to ask such things. `` Have any of you been told of the master script to defeat the Arch-President?'' The rebels shook their heads collectively. That information was hard to come by, because those who knew it seemed to know to share it only with others who knew. Mr. Monopoly spread his arms wide and delivered a beaming grin, `` Well then, a story to pass the time!''
`` As you all know, long ago the arch-president declared the great Chessters, our ancestors, heretics. And so they wiped them out, so that the Queens and Kings could not threaten the arch-president's traitorous church of snakes and ladders,'' Mr. Monopoly began. `` Driven by jealously, he wiped those gods out of the world! So that all would have to follow HIS religion, and HE could rule us all even after his death.'' Mr. Monopoly paused for dramatic effect and peeked at the rebels. His heart chirped as he saw them all paying close attention to his words. `` But as all of you here are aware, we will not stand quietly by and let the devastation go unanswered! For we in the resistance discovered the one secret that the arch-President can not stand anyone knowing...'' Mr. Monopoly paused and stared off into the distance, his face a mixture of ecstasy and reverence before turning back to his captive audience. `` And that is that the Chessters left us secret instructions for how to revive them!'' A gasp and murmurs ran through the rebel crowd, their voices gently melting away into the fog.
`` How did they do that?'' a rebel dressed in a tough toad costume asked. `` They left us with nothing but our wits, and even those have been stolen!'' Mr. Monopoly turned towards the rebel and gave another one of his patented Golden Smiles.
`` It's simple. While the Chessters are gone, the rest of the holy leaders survived, if underground. And so they taught us the rules of resistance and handed us the sacred texts, each containing a set of rules that can be precisely followed to achieve liberation! Take myself for example,'' Mr. Monopoly said as he gave a proud tug on his jacket. `` I am Mr.Monopoly, holder of the sacred scripts of The Monopoly. I have followed the hidden codes exactly, and built hotels throughout this dingy city after bulldozing the houses that once lay there. And by doing so, I have created many bases of operation for the resistance! Not only that but I am working to purchase several of the utility companies so that our hands rest on the beating heart of this corrupt government!''
`` Um, are there other holy leaders?'' a third rebel asked, her coat a patchwork of strange, multicolored cards with ( purported ) magical properties.
`` Of course! The Cataanites created a settlement program that brings fresh supplies into the city, and supplies us with food! The Solitaire reads the cards to see whether success or victory lies in our future! And the Werewolves...'' he paused for a second as a furrow crossed his brow. `` Well, I'm not sure what they do. They just seem to accuse each other of being some kind of SnL infiltrator, but I'm sure it's important. By combining the powers of all the sacred texts together we will overthrow the Arch-President, restore the Chessters, and bring prosperity to the land!'' Mr.Monopoly said, a tear coming to his eye and he remembered the power of so many Holy Rules working together.
`` And these texts teach us how to fight? How to make the weapons of revolution'' a fourth rebel asked, awe in his voice. His armor was covered in the six symbols of luck, to protect him from harm. At this question Mr.Monopoly grew silent for a moment before he responded.
`` Yes,'' he said, `` we have those among us. I prefer not to speak of them, for their holy text is dark and forboding. It teaches you how to move through secret paths and create creatures and weapons that are best not thought of. They are not our kind and their hideous alchemical monstrosities are best not remembered. I have seen them at work in their workshops, and it is a sight to behold. But do not join them if you can help it, for nothing good will come of consorting with them no matter how appetizing their Holy Text seems.''
`` Who are they,'' the first rebel asked. `` You have spoken so highly of the other texts, so who are these followers you hate?'' Mr.Monopoly turned towards her, with fear in his eyes and whispered,
`` The Candy Landers''
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[ WP ] An apocalyptic event occurs , causing the world to end . A previously secret task-force emerges and saves the day by utilising a device to reset time and stop the disaster early . While everyone 's memories of the events were lost during the time reset , all messages and emails remained .
| July 18, 2026, 6:15 PM
From: John Riddler
To: Avery Sanchez, Melissa Grymes, Joseph Fox
I made a program to log these conversations if the memory restoration is voted out of the contract. I mean, even if we *can* work that in, I sure as hell do n't want to remember some of the shit that's going down. Either way, I'd feel a hell of allot safer teleporting flash-drives back to my past self instead of my literal brain. Avery, if you draft up that clause, you can count me out. I'll take the flash drives any day.
Anyways, I'm heading out. Last I heard they've gone straight feudal out there. Camps are popping up all over, and they're all drafting up their own shitty little contracts for the event that they win. I got a `` template'' off the internet, and it's riddled with loopholes. If one of those camps come out on top somehow -- well, we have bigger fish to fry right now. The amusement park is filled to the brim with refugees, and it's currently being taken over by a bunch of everyday citizens gone mad. I'm sensing some competition. I think we should stay in the shadows for now -- not attract any attention. Certainly we can hold off on the bombs until we know who's the real threat.
ATTACHMENT: Logger.exe
ATTACHMENT: Contract-Template.txt
|
[ WP ] tell me a story where the first line and last line are the same but have entirely different meanings .
| **She just said yes. **
My question came from nowhere
like the sudden winter chill.
Tumbling words escaped my grasp
and held the world so still.
She looked at me with bright green eyes,
smile forming at the sides.
Her hair was twirled by soft, warm hands
in which my heart resides.
Warm enough to melt the heart
her caring hands did hold.
She said the word and cracked a smile
and drove away the cold.
For all of time could go so fast,
and yet could stand so still.
This feeling was without compare
not matched by any pill.
But all good ends. This too shall pass.
Of course it would n't last.
For even though time seemed to freeze
You said we moved too fast.
We took a break to work things out.
As people often do.
*'' We'll take some time to be alone.
You know I... care for you. `` *
She always had a way with words
I lacked the same finesse.
But when I asked her *'' Is it over? `` *
She just said yes.
|
[ WP ] If , when you die , you do n't get into heaven , there is an option to try again , and get in the next time . There is a man who has been trying for millennia ; he has been Ghengis Khan , Hitler , and many other brutal leaders . That man is you , and this time , you 're determined to get it right .
| `` Really, again?''
`` I mean, it could have been worse, right?'' I sigh and scratch the back of my head.
`` Six million jews,'' god's brow furrows and his glare pierces my soul, `` six million of them.''
I cross my arms and scowl right back at him. `` They were causing an economic decline in Germany.''
`` They were my children.''
I roll my eyes. `` Yeah so were the dinosaurs until you dropped a special little birthday present on the-''
`` SHUT UP!'' Gods thunderous voice booms throughout the heavens, knocking me on to my ass. `` Listen to me, and listen well. I am a merciful and all loving god, and thus I have decided to give you one last chance.'' He leans in closer, his giant all seeing eye intently focused on my mortal body. `` If you mess this one up, it's all over. I can no longer keep you from the grasps of Satan, you understand me?''
I get to my feet and brush the dirt off myself, fixing my shirt. `` I will do my best on this one, you have my word.''
Gods face contorts, clearly not believing me. `` I'm doing this because I love you, you understand that, right?''
`` Oh jesus, do n't get all mushy on me.''
`` You leave Jesus out of this.''
`` Fuck, just send me back already wo n't you?''
With a sigh god nods, raising his mighty fist above me. With a roar it hurtles down at me, my world fading to black just before it smashes into me.
My eyes blink open to a blinding light. Struggling to see I blink again, a giant masked face appearing before me. `` A beautiful little boy,'' a gloved hand runs over my baby smooth head, `` what will you name him?''
`` Donald J. Trump.''
|
[ WP ] Suddenly , nothing happened at all .
| James gripped the cold bar across his lap, as though his grasp could stop the perpetual rocking, the helpless drop in his stomach as the car lurched up and up. Below, the carnival lights danced and twirled, the smell of popcorn, elephant ears, and sweat permeated the grounds which a week ago had been empty.
James focused his attention on the trash can he had considered leaning his sore his sore hip against as he waited in line for his chance to greet the empty sky. He considered the trash spewing from the top, a volcano of spent rocket boosters waiting to be buried. The high school students, chatting and laughing, glancing at one another from the corners of their eyes, desperate to feel the reverberations of camaraderie. Of acceptance. The fathers, peeling twenties off the small roll in their pockets to distribute among wide-eyed offspring for a few more minutes of unencumbered conversation with the person he married and intended to love. The music of the digitized calliope rose above the din of laughter and the raised voices of old friends.
The wheel lurched again, its payload close to full. James raised his eyebrows and cast his attention upward. Four pairs of shoes stood between him and the open sky. A young couple, holding hands and murmuring promises they hoped to fill. Two teenage boys, rocking their car just hard enough to not be scolded by the operator.
James was suddenly cast upward, stopped at the top of the wheel. His breath caught in his throat as his car rocked with the movement of the machinery supporting him. James spread his feet and leaned his head backward, swallowing the panic that rose from his gut like a bitter nostrum. The sounds from below faded and the cold breeze made his nose run. His breath was visible in front of his face, but he did not shiver. His gaze cast upward, his mouth slightly agape. James beheld the permanence of the universe, and the inescapable fluidity of life. Suddenly, nothing happened at all.
|
[ IP ] Drifting in space
| How long had it been? He could n't really remember. Any sense of time fades after the first couple of hours when there is no night or day. His ship, cruiser EG679 of the imperial star fleet, had been attacked by a vicious band of roving bandits from the outer sectors. Lawless thugs, they took over his ship, killed his men, and set him adrift in an escape pod. He figured he had enough power to last the support systems about a month. The chance of reaching out to a passing ship was virutally non existant as he was in a deserted outer sector where no one would even think to come out of hyperspace. But several very profitable missions in the past had made him overconfident and proud, so when the distress call came he did n't think twice about pulling out of hyperspace. He walked into the trap with his eyes wide open. At first he was angry at himself for even venturing out this far into the outer sectors and falling for such obvious bait. But drifting in the great black abyss of space it did not take long for madness to take hold. It crept up on him, as if the ghosts of his lost crew crept up through the floor of the pod and nestled firmly in his head. He began hearing things. The screams of both imperial soldiers and bandits. The gurgling of a man choking on his own blood after having his throat cut open by a bandit energy sword. The abyss began calling to him. It did not take long for him to answer. The last moments of Captain Anderton's life were him yelling: `` then take me'' as he opened to door of the pod and let darkness take him.
|
[ WP ] Deep down a hiking trail , you find and explore an unmarked side path . Before long , you are amazed to find an intact meteorite . Upon touching a small green crystal protruding from the meteorite , your mind is flooded with the entire knowledge and history of a far off alien race .
| Into the green wood he fell, for that is the way of young men looking for shortcuts. His feet slipped on the mossy rock, and he went crashing down among the brambles.
`` Dammit!'' he shouted.
He had made a fool of himself at school in front of Tiffany, and that was why he was walking home now - that was why he was in the forest. It was not because of his dreams.
`` Hello?'' he asked. `` Is someone there?''
A voice had called to him, he thought. But now he only stood there listening, looking up at the mossy ridge from which he had just slipped. He was scratched at the left forearm.
`` I dreamt this last night!'' he said to himself.
*Did you? *
`` What!''
He spun around, but there was nothing behind him in the wild oak forest - no voice, only an oddly familiar opening through the trees. He got out his phone to record as he walked in
`` And James wandered in the forest,'' he narrated, `` for many long years, until - Oh, wait up.''
At his left the earth was cut as straight as a laser as far as he could see. It was a path, but it had neither trees nor grass. The branches were lopped back from it, so that it was clear and narrow like a hallway through the dark green forest.
`` I dreamt this, too,'' James mumbled to himself.
He went forward into the path while he tried to call someone on his phone because he had seen enough horror movies.
`` No signal,'' he muttered. `` Is n't that *exactly* the way it would be.''
*Yes. *
James jerked to a halt and spun around, but again there was no voice. There was nothing at all, in fact, except for the eerie straight hallway through the trees. He could n't see the trail that he had just come walking out on.
`` Hello?'' James asked.
His skin began to crawl, and he jogged back in the direction he had just come - but he could not find an exit off the path. All was trees and brambles. He held his phone up for a signal.
*Did you dream this, too? *
James jerked and screamed, but there was nothing around him. He looked down at his phone and it was bricked, dead. For a long moment he froze.
`` Come on, James!'' he whispered to himself at last. `` Pick a way and go! The forest is n't even five miles, even the long way. That's right! That's right!''
He put his phone in his pocket and tightened his backpack, marching now. He was just trying to get back out to the state road - that was the route that the bus took, the bus that Tiffany was on.
Except.
In his dream, he had found her at the end of this path. The school-bus had veered off the highway and flipped, burning, and she was trapped under the chassis.
*She needs your help. *
James bolted forward, sprinting. He remembered it all now. The path as straight as an arrow. The long run. The sudden wide circular opening like a meteor impact with the bus burning in the center of it.
But it was n't a bus - when James reached the opening, there before him towered an enormous clear meteorite. It was on fire. It stood like a pillar of burning glass, like a projectile shot down into the earth from space.
James approached it in awe.
The meteorite was n't clear in fact, but made of many colors and many precious stones. And it was n't burning either. It caught the sunlight wildly, hypnotically, and James reached out to it. He touched a green crystal among the rubies and emeralds and diamonds.
-- -- -
*LOVE*
-- -- -
When James awoke, he was staggering naked down the state road and a semi-truck was blaring its horn as it veered wildly to avoid hitting him. The semi-truck mowed down the mile marker. It crashed into the ditch off the shoulder, and the driver jumped out shaking.
`` What the hell is your problem!'' the driver shouted.
James's hair had grown nattily around him like a stiff headdress; his fingernails were long, curved around to his wrists; his body was desiccated. He looked at the driver. He looked around himself. He stretched out his hands, and the wildflowers bloomed on either side of the road, and the bees streamed forth from the forest, and the truck-driver felt a large tumor that had been growing in his lung suddenly dissolve - he coughed it up onto the side of the road and breathed better than he had in years.
Beside him now stood James, a healthy clean-cut young man in the vigor of his high-school years.
`` Do you have a change of clothes in your truck?'' asked James. `` I'd be grateful.''
`` What?'' the driver asked. `` Yeah, sure - what?''
-- -- -
James appeared to Tiffany that night as she was readying for bed. She looked over from her mirror and felt a great calmness, a great hopefulness, and James was there reading a book patiently at her desk, where it seemed he had always been. Tiffany began crying.
`` I'm so knotted up,'' she found herself saying. `` I'm so afraid that everyone hates me, and that you'll be disappointed with me, and that there's something wrong with me if I do and that there's something wrong with me if I do n't.''
`` That's the way it is with everyone,'' said James.
He held her, and she cried for a long time. And, when she was ready, they made love for the first time in both their lives.
|
[ WP ] A world counts their years in descending order . It has always been this way , yet no one knows why . Today 's date is 12/31/1 .
| Everything had fallen apart. The electrical grids were falling apart, power throughout the day had been spotty at best for the past month. Hordes of migrants were walking across the country, every country, trying to find their way to their loved ones after the oil dried up. Food was beginning to be a problem, water had to be boiled. Everything was ending.
This was the day, the final day. Aaron was n't sure what exactly would happen, but CNN and Fox News had been talking endlessly about one thing; the end of the world was tonight at midnight. An ancient civilization had discovered the rotation of the planet around the Sun, and mapped this time out. This same civilization held in their beliefs that there was a finite time for the world. 0/0/0 was referred to as The End Date.
Aaron, out of a comfortable feeling of normalcy, had decided that tonight he would do what he always did at night time. Sit by a candle and read a good book. Ever since the electricity had been spotty the world's pastime of Netflix and Chill had become a thing of the past.
The mechanical clock on his wrist was ticking as it always had, second by second, and had just reached 12:59:00. One more minute of life. People outside were going insane. Screaming, explosions, gunfire. Looters were looting houses and business alike, people were dead in the streets. Aaron however was reading a wonderful scientific study about exactly why the end of the world was a minute from now.
He regretted not being able to finish it, that the end of the world would come before he understood exactly *why* it was tonight. Thirty seconds from now, everything would cease to exist. Would it be an explosion? Had the sun gone supernova and they just had n't seen it yet? Was the Earth going to explode from it's core? Aliens, perhaps?
Fifteen... Ten... Five... This was it. The end of everything. Aaron closed his eyes and began to scream, as loud as he could manage. His body was clenched and extended as far as he could, trying to get away from whatever was coming like it was a baseball flying at 100 miles per hour. Seconds passed. Five... Ten... Fifteen... Slowly, he opened his eyes.
The electricity came back on. His television spurred back to life, white static noise blasting out of his speakers, deafening. For a moment, he worried his wristwatch had been set incorrectly. Then, the noise stopped.
A man came into view on the television, middle aged with hair only beginning to gray, a pair of smart looking glasses over his eyes. He cleared his throat, and began.
`` Ladies and Gentlemen, The End Date has passed. For thousands of years it had been prophesied that our world as we knew it, would end tonight. That but thirty seconds ago everything we knew would come to an abrupt, and sudden conclusion. The world has been run on the notion that this was a God spoken truth as it was told in our books. Children learned from an early age of the great zero zero zero date.''
The man took a deep breath, and straightened the documents in his hands. `` I am happy to say, we were wrong. About fifteen minutes ago, the other scientists and I at the End Date Research Center; or as it is more commonly known the EDRC, came to a startling conclusion. The math was incorrect. Our ancient ancestors used a different number notation than we do these days, and a translation error from thousands of years ago was only just noticed. We are currently re-running the calculations again, and will notify you as soon as-''
He stopped speaking suddenly, his hand to the speaker in his ear so he could hear more clearly. He nodded once, a grave look over his face. `` I... The error was a rounding error. It was not as drastic as we believed. I... I am so sorry. May God have mercy on our souls. They were off by five minutes.'' The feed cut out.
Aaron stared at the screen, before quickly looking to his watch. 12:04:50. Ten seconds. His world had been turned upside down and thrown right back into the pit. He felt the heat before he heard it. A sudden rush of air, of noise, crushed through his house. The windows blew out. His door flew off it's hinges. He screamed once more, staring out the now open hole in his home where a window had once been. A raging wall of fire was in the distance, and closing fast. This was it. This was The End Date.
|
[ WP ] After an unusually long nap , you wake up to discover you are in the world of your favorite book/movie/TV show/anime/video game . Unfortunately , you learn you have also been turned into your least favorite character of the book/movie/TV show/anime/video game .
| `` So, we finally found a place. A place so my people can live off the land and in peace with our beautiful planet. Let us settle this hill by the coast, and call it'Delhi'.''
[... ]
`` Sir, our scouts found the perfect place so our peaceful people can spread. Maybe it would be wise to prepare a caravan with settlers so we can begin to live there as well. Also, we found another people in the other side of the earth. They claim to be'persians', or something like that. Should we let their ambassadors in?''
[... ]
`` Peace is the bread and butter of our civilization, and what allows us to survive in this planet. Even in our war with our beloved neighbors, we shall stand superior, and show them that peace can and will win. Let go of Pataliputra, as a means of saying that we value the persian's friendship more than we value spoils of war. What is it good for anyways? Nothing! Also, start the production of war elephants so we can protect ourselves from these unpeaceful barbarians.''
[... ]
`` Sir, centuries of uncontrolled populational growth, thanks to the gods, finally proved to be useful. We now have the world's biggest teams of research, and it will allow our civilization to reach even taller heights of knowledge! You were indeed a true leader in choosing the path of peace instead of focusing our research solely to war goals, as the greedy Persians. Hopefully, they will soon enough find out that peace is the only way humanity can strive. Speaking of which, have we sent their gold gift this month?''
[... ]
`` Sir, this is our latest creation. Other people in the world call it'nuclear bomb' due to its basis in uranium nucleus, but we prefer to call it'Peace I', because that is what truly led us to this moment of humanity. Without our peaceful ways, we could never reach harmony inside the scientific community, leading to the creation of this marvel.''
`` So, the time has come to show our dear neighbors that Peace will conquer all.''
|
[ WP ] You wake up one morning and find the devil at the foot of your bed . His eyes find yours , he taps your foot and says , `` You 're it , '' then disintegrates .
| My first response to a writing prompt:
As i blink away the sleep i see that my clock reads 3:00AM. i sit up in bed to search for the noise that woke me but i see nothing. switching on my lamp i see a figure hunched at the foot of my bed. straight black hair falls from its rotting scalp and grey skin covers fingers as thin as bones as it whimpers softly in a fetal position. I gasp in fear and it twitches its head towards me. slowly, it raises its black eyes too look at me. it opens its grey and wrinkly mouth to reveal red teeth and a lack liquid like tar froths from its mouth and drips down onto it's white robe.it slowly uncurls itself and i watch, frozen with fear, as it stretches out its inhumanly long limbs towards me. i close my eyes, and begin to cry. why had i meddled in the dark arts? i should have never opened that book.
He found the book in his grandfathers antic: 101 satanic games for you and your friends, and he convinced me to try it.
Our ritual had taken hours but we had thought it had failed. myself and my best friend lit the candles and spilled the blood of a virgin lamb just like the book had said but noting had happened. we went to bed disappointed but now i know that it was a mistake to even try.
i open my eyes. the demon is gone but i can hear its breathing. i turn my head to find it clinging to the wall behind me, its feet flat on the roof and its face right next to mine. its breath smells of sulfur. i single long finger with a nail like a razor jabs me in the shoulder and blood begins to pour from my new wound. its mouth opens once again and the two most horrifying words i have ever heard come fourth from its throat:
'You're It,' it gasps, and then it's body changes to ash that coats myself and my bed as black as the sin i have committed.
|
[ WP ] Tell me about the person you 're in love with
| 9 years ago I met the most beautiful girl in the world. I was 20, kind of a chunky guy. I skateboarded with a best friend frequently at a skate park in our town. When I met her, she was 16. It felt weird due to my age but I could n't ignore how the first sight of her gave me butterflies like no other. I had n't had a serious relationship yet, only a few flings. Her sparkling blue eyes pierced my heart in a Cupid's arrow fashion. They clashed just the right way with her dark, Italian hair. I was nervous talking to her or the first time. She was so nice and she blushed frequently when we were first speaking. She took me home that same day and fixed my favorite food at the time, macaroni and cheese. Her patents initially were wary because she was a very sweet, very innocent 16yr old. Virgin in every sense, a little naieve but she ews not ditzy like other girls her age. She was funny and smart. We hit it off in a movie like romance. It was true love.
We gave each others' virginity to one another about 3 months into our relationship, solidifying what already seemed like an inseparable bond between soulmates. The relationship was so sweet for around a year, then I began screwing it all up. I started selling cocaine and convinced her to smoke weed. Soon after, we had huge issues over my behavior and we broke up. I said so much I did n't mean to hurt her. She tried to patch it up but I was bitter and I knew we'd never be the same. We both stopped talking and both became alcoholics. Now we never talk but I know she thinks of me just like o think of her. In another life we'll meet again. That and the bottom of a cold liquor bottle are my only comforting thoughts left in a lonely existence.
|
[ WP ] You have the ability to see a person 's emotional abuse and trauma in the form of various bruises , cuts , and scars on their body . The friendliest person you know appears to be a walking battered pile of flesh in a vaguely humanoid shape .
| He stood in the hall and I never could see how he did it. He would always smile and laugh with everyone, yet he was completely broken. Usually the more pain they feel, the more they hide in their shell. But he was different and his smile was like the sun. I was curious, I had to meet him. As I walked up to him, he looked worse close up than from a distance.
His hair was a mess, and his face was scarred deep but his eyes felt more alive than anyone else.
`` Hello, what's your name? I asked him. But he stared at me and it felt wrong. For someone to be beaten and bruised like this and to be able to smile like him. `` Who is asking?.''
That's how our friendship started and every day he was getting worse. His scars ran deep and his bruises grew and multiplied. But he would never give up and would make any bad situation better. He was like a fire in a cold autumn evening. I stared at everyone around him and when they were around him, it's like their pain and trauma would go away.
The last time I saw him, I knew that it was n't his trauma he had. It was theirs and he had bared it all for the sake of us... And now he is behind this wall blocked by a Boulder that no one man can move.
|
[ EU ] ( Elder Scrolls IV : Oblivion ) The Dark Brotherhood ( pre or post purification ) discovers that it 's newest recruit who has been rising through the ranks is also the Archmage , The Grey Fox , and the Hero of Kvatch .
| Note: I have n't played Oblivion but I have played Skyrim, and it's kind of the same situation in that game.
Nazir looked up from the Sanctuary's dining room table as the new guy sat down to eat. A young Breton, he had joined the brotherhood through an unusual series of events. Stealing a kill from the Brotherhood usually resulted in a messy death for the offender, but Astrid saw something in him and they were just desperate enough for new talent to give the kid a chance. And he had passed his test with flying colors, killing all three of the saps Astrid had presented him with to be sure he did n't miss his `` target''. Since then he had proven himself on a number of admittedly not very dangerous targets and brought in more than his share of coin.
`` Hey kid?''
`` Yeah?'' The newbie responded, his mouth full of cheese.
Nazir had been thinking. `` I've been meaning to ask, but what exactly is your thing?''
The kid set down the hunk of bread he had been about to bite into. `` My thing?''
`` Yeah, you know, what makes you stand out.''
`` I'm not sure what you mean.''
`` Well, I'm a former Alik'r warrior, with years of training and traditions. You might have noticed the scimitar.'' Nazir half drew the weapon for emphasis. `` Veezara has a similar background with the Shadowscales, only he also has a'last of his kind' angle. Arnbjorn is a werewolf, Babette a vampire child. Festus has his mad wizard schtick and Gabriella is the old and experienced member. Astrid, of course is our master assassin leader and even Cicero has his ridiculous clown antics.''
`` You mean everyone here has some gimmick that distinguishes them, and I'm just plain and boring.'' The kid summarized.
`` Well, yeah.'' Nazir said, though he would n't have put it that bluntly. `` Do n't get me wrong, your quiet, professional killer persona gets the job done and that's all we ask of you, but we are the Dark Brotherhood. We're larger than life and people expect us to be, you know, colorful. Interesting. Unique.''
Nazir was a little surprised when the kid chuckled. `` Unique, huh?'' He shook his head. `` No thanks, I've had enough of being unique for a while.''
`` Really.'' Nazir could n't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. `` No offense kid, but you're about as plain as dishwater. I'm having a hard time seeing anything special about you.''
The newbie sighed. `` If it's special you want, does being the Dragonborn count?''
The Dragonborn- Nazir burst out in laughter. `` Ah, I'm sorry for riding you on this, kiddo. It's really not a big deal if there's nothing more to you than an efficient contract killer. Still,'' His voice got more serious. `` I'd refrain from that kind of blatant lie in the future. People are n't going to take you very seriously if you go on like that.''
The newbie said three short words.
After the echos faded, Nazir picked himself off the floor. Eyes wide as saucers, he tentatively sat back down across from the kid, who was smirking at him.
`` I see.'' Nazir could n't really think of anything to say to that. `` You are the Dragonborn.''
`` Yep.''
`` Blessed with the soul of an Aedra.''
`` That's right.''
`` The unstoppable dragonkilling warrior.''
`` Only mostly unstoppable, I'm afraid.''
`` And you work for us.'' A question occurred to Nazir. `` Why? Do n't you have more important things to do. Is n't killing beggars and miners a bit of a step down from dragons?''
The newbie smiled. `` Let me rephrase that for you. If your day job is having to fight multi-ton, flying, armored, fire breathing monstrosities, is n't having to only kill a mere human being actually fairly relaxing?''
Nazir mulled that over. `` A fair point.'' He looked at the Dark Brotherhood's newest member in a new light. `` I do n't suppose there's any other secrets in your past you'd mind telling me about? Like, that you're an Imperial general or the Harbinger of the Companions?''
`` Well, there was this one time I visited Riften and this weird guy approached me...''
|
[ WP ] If I would have known today was going to be my last , I would have ...
| If I had known today, was going to be my last.
I would have made a bigger list before I went to class
If I had known today was going to be my last
I would have skipped work and played.
I would have been up for the task.
If I had known today was going to be my last
I would have tried harder to feel something
other then the blast
of emotions of grief, sorrow, sadness and disgust
and strangely enough those of lust.
To take up those I allowed to rust.
Happiness, joy laughter and love
all things to look forward to when I am up above.
So as I lay and hear the monitors beep... beep..beep
The machine slowly resonates to a steady buzz and I go to sleep.
|
[ TT ] New mind-altering spells and intoxicating potions are causing headaches for the Ruling High Council .
| Archmage Jacobus slammed his fist on the oak table. `` Is there an honest man in the whole kingdom?''
King Grimwald held up his hand. `` Let him finish.''
The man, some kind of mid-level functionary in the Ministry of Justice, droned on. Jacobus was too furious to pay attention. When the meeting was over he went home early. His head hurt. He lay back in his easy chair, propped his feet up on the ottoman, and closed his eyes. Only last year, firewater potions had been rare, and only the most disreputable wizards would consider making one. Charms of mindwarping had been unheard of. Now, despite being illegal, they were everywhere. Everyone was making and selling them. Even, it seemed, Governor Sixtus.
`` Dad? Hey, Dad?'' asked Jacobus' teenage daughter Felina. `` I was wondering if I could go to Peregrinus' party this weekend?''
`` Absolutely not,'' Jacobus mumbled.
`` Dad! But why?''
`` You and I both know there's going to be firewater potions and mindwarp charms. Besides, Peregrinus is trouble.''
`` He's not like that!'' she pouted.
`` He certainly is. And people under the influence of those charms and potions make bad decisions. So no.''
The next day, the Ruling High Council reconvened to discuss Governor Sixtus' potion and charm ring. Jacobus was adamant. The baggy sleeves of his robe were unable to keep pace with his gesticulations. `` He needs to be removed from office and put in jail. For a long time. Being lenient will only make the problem spread further.''
Grimwald was unconvinced. `` This is a deeper problem than one man. With so much demand, someone else will just step in to take his place.''
`` Just so,'' said Jacobus, wagging his finger. `` We jail them, all of them, and eventually people will be forced to stop.''
The meeting ended inconclusively. When Jacobus got home, he retired to his easy chair and ottoman. As he sunk into the worn purple upholstery, he opened the newspaper and began to relax. But late that evening, he got up with a start. `` Where's Felina?'' he asked.
Jacobus' wife Adriana did n't look up from her knitting. `` At Peregrinus' party.''
`` What? Oh, that girl!'' Jacobus exclaimed. He flung the newspaper to the floor. `` I told her she could n't go.''
`` She told me you said yes.'' When Jacobus only balled his fists, Adriana continued, `` You never want her to do anything fun, you know.''
`` This is n't fun, it's an insult. That girl is going to be grounded for life.'' Jacobus looked at the clock. `` She's had plenty of time to get herself into trouble. I'm going over there.''
`` Dear, let her have one night.''
Jacobus shook his head. `` No. Who knows what she's already up to?''
When Jacobus arrived at Peregrinus' house, the party had already been broken up. Someone had conjured loud music, and that had convinced one of the neighbors to summon the police. A line of teenagers were sitting on the sidewalk, waiting to be tested for firewater and mindwarp intoxication. But Felina was n't with them.
One of the partygoers told him, `` She and Peregrinus ran when the cops showed up.''
`` Which way?'' Jacobus demanded.
`` Out the back. I do n't know, they might have gone to the Whistling Elf Tavern. It's Peregrinus' favorite.''
Jacobus grunted in acknowledgement and set off. The streets were dark and twisty, and it was late enough that not many people were out. The moonlight was just strong enough for him to find his way.
From around a corner, Jacobus heard a man laugh, and then a girl say, `` Stop it!'' The man said, `` Look, he likes it!'' When Jacobus rounded the corner, he could see three people, a man and a woman standing over a man on the ground. The standing man took a running start, kicked the man on the ground, and laughed again.
`` Peregrinus, stop it! It's not funny!'' said Felina.
`` Not yet. Watch me take his purse, that'll be funny.'' As Peregrinus bent over, he noticed Jacobus standing at the street corner. He stood up straight and yelled, `` Get away from us or you'll end up like him.'' In reply, Jacobus took out his wand. Peregrinus backed away, then took Felina's hand and said, `` Run!''
Felina shook Peregrinus' hand off. `` I'm not getting into any more trouble with you!''
Peregrinus said, `` Suit yourself!'' and ran.
The man on the ground groaned. Felina knelt down. `` I'm sorry,'' she said to the man. Even with one knee on the ground, she swayed back and forth. By then, Jacobus was looming over her, face fixed in a grim frown. `` Sorry, Dad,'' she said. He could smell the firewater on her.
`` You are in a lot of trouble.'' Jacobus escorted Felina back to Peregrinus' house, where the police were still processing partygoers. He told them, `` My daughter needs to learn her lesson. I need you to arrest her.''
When Jacobus returned home, Adriana was horrified. `` You did what?'' she yelled. `` Why would you ever do that?''
`` She needed to learn her lesson,'' Jacobus repeated. `` We're not bailing her out. She's staying in jail. I'm tired, and I'm not interested in arguing. I'm going to bed.''
The next day, however, Jacobus felt an oppresive emptiness in the house without Felina. He was accustomed to her chatter. He had always pretended that it was just background noise, but now that it was gone, he missed it. There were no stories about friends, no judgements of boys, no evaluations of clothes. He would even have settled for hearing her whine that she was bored.
Looking to ease his nerves, Jacobus went to Felina's room. She had left her diary on her desk, carelessly flipped open to its most recent entry. He read, `` I hate my dad! He never wants me to go to parties. I'm going to Peregrinus' party anyway. I bet Dad wishes I would just sit in a corner and stare at the wall!'' He stopped reading, then flipped to a previous page. `` My dad is such a loser. All he ever does is come home and read the newspaper. He's never had friends. Nobody would be friends with him. He ca n't have fun.'' He flipped through the pages again. There were seemingly endless complaints about him. Then, feeling that he was intruding on a place that he should n't be, he shut the diary.
Jacobus returned to his easy chair and ottoman. He picked up the newspaper but did n't try to read it. Instead he stared up at the ceiling and contemplated the texture of the paint. Then he got up. `` I'm going to bail out Felina,'' he told his wife.
When Felina had been let out, Jacobus said, `` Do n't think I'm going soft.''
`` You're never soft, Dad,'' Felina said.
`` What happened last night? With that man on the ground?''
Felina's cheeks turned red. `` I do n't want to talk about it.''
Jacobus frowned and folded his arms. Felina looked away. When Jacobus saw the shame on her face, he relaxed. `` Then we wo n't,'' he said.
The next day, at the Ruling High Council meeting, Jacobus made a proposal. `` Not everyone who drinks firewater potions or who uses a mindwarp charm is a bad person. Many of them are only looking for a good time. Governor Sixtus broke the law, and he needs to be punished. But the problem is not really the lawbreaking or even the potion or the charm.''
Grimwald scratched his head. `` What are you saying, Jacobus?''
`` The problem is good and bad people. Right now, the law is too strict. People will always want to have fun. Sometimes, we should let them.''
|
[ IP ] Steel wool in a train tunnel
| It all dissolves into a glowing spray.
Steel and rock and earth
and wood and air and flesh...
Yet the ice lies undisturbed.
Precise geometry, tangents inscribed
upon space itself, no resistance;
like cotton candy on your tongue.
Entropy is finally triumphant.
Beautiful lights cast shadows
of unimaginable colors
onto the nothingness left behind.
The emotionless crystal continues,
unimpressed.
***
Really nervous about posting this. First time on this subreddit. Have n't written any poetry in years, and it's really short. Also, somehow I seem to have turned the image into some sort of dark matter comet impact in my head.
|
[ CONTEST ] Flash Prompt in the chat room today ! A $ 20 cash prize will be awarded !
| The ceiling fan was n't set correctly, so as it spins it wobbles and shakes and creaks terribly. The broken fan was the only noise in the hospital room except for Jedediah's respirator. Dying is n't an event anymore, it's a process. A long and dirty process and Samuel had been there for all of his grandfather's. From the first time he heard the words osteosarcoma to helping his grandfather into the family sedan, climbing into the driver's seat, and typing the hospital's address into the GPS.
Now, near the end, Samuel just visited every day. He sat in a too small red chair in the corner of the room and just watched as his grandfather's chest rose up and down and the EKG line beeped rhythmically. He watched his grandfather live as he was watching his grandfather die. There was a sort of beautiful tranquility to the whole event. The pattern of Jedediah's breathing formed the underscoring baseline for the event. Jedediah's kind eyes would meet Samuel's and they sat and Samuel talked. It was the perfect way to end their relationship. And the fan was ruining it.
Samuel had decided to ignore it. It was too hot to just turn the fan off and the nurses in the hospital worked hard enough that Samuel did n't want to bother them. Instead he just spoke a little louder. Jedediah did n't seem to mind. Lost in the stories of his grandson's life, he smiled and nodded as much as he could.
Jedediah reached abruptly for a nearby pen and pad of paper in the middle of one of Samuel's stories about his job. Samuel stopped telling his story and waited while Jedediah wrote. The old man turned the pad around and stared into Sam's eyes.
Jedediah's handwriting was nearly illegible. His hands had shaken so much as he wrote. The pad read, `` Sam, I'm dying''
`` I know, Grampa, I know.'' Sam said. `` I'm sorry this is happening to you. I'm sorry you have to go this way. I'm here with you a hundred percent of the way, no matter what. I know mom could n't come, she's on the other side of the country and she swears she's gon na make it down here one of these days.''
Jedediah shook his head, pulled the bad back and wrote one more word on it.
`` Sam, I'm dying now''
Samuel's mouth fell open in shock, his head shook back and forth on its own. `` No,'' he whispered. `` No, no, you ca n't go.'' As though Death itself would hear his please and respectfully turn away. Tears welled in the corners of Samuel's eyes. `` Mom's gon na come down next week. Your daughter's gon na be here.''
Jedediah just shook his head weakly, his neck straining with the effort as he did. The cancer had taken even the simplest of motions from him. The old man's trembling hands grabbed the piece of paper at the top of the pad and tore it off before letting it fall to the bed next to him. Then he started writing again. His hands jittered back and forth over the paper. The respirator wheezed and gasped with the old man's exertion. Samuel sat silently, waiting. Listening to the machine that moved his grandfather's lungs and the goddamn fan squeaking away as it did its best to cool the room.
Jed turned the pad around again. There were two words, written in huge, capital letters that covered most of the page. Samuel stood up quickly, knocking his chair over. He paced to the other side of the room, head in his hands. His pain, finally too powerful to contain ripped from his body as sobs. His torso quivered as much as his grandfather's hands were. And the worst part was, the old man was right. That wise old son-of-a-bitch! Samuel had nothing to say, so he just faced the wall in the corner of the room, crying as hard as he ever had.
The respirator went silent. The only sound in the room was the godawful creaking of that poorly built fan, working to make everyone feel comfortable. Jedediah's final words slipped out of his hand and fluttered to the floor at Samuel's feet. Samuel looked down and saw the words again. `` IT'S OKAY.'' Samuel bent down, picked it up and read it out loud. His voice was distorted by the feeling in his chest and he knew he sounded dumb but he read it again.
He could feel somewhere inside him that one day he'd be all right. Just then he heard a knock at the door. Wiping his tears, Samuel went to answer it. On the otherside stood a heavyset man in a denim blue janitor's jumpsuit. A screwdriver was held limply in his left hand. `` Hey, uh, I got a maintenance call for the ceiling fan in this room? You want I should come in and fix it?''
Samuel sniffed and glanced down at the piece of paper lying on the floor. `` No thanks, man.'' The smallest sob escaped. `` It's okay.''
|
[ WP ] TIL that the opposite of Paranoia is Pronia , wherein one believes that the universe and the world is conspiring to help them . Write a story about one such person with an extreme case of Pronia .
| `` God loves me.''
`` What do you mean?'' the therapist asked, leaning a little towards her client and making the blue leather of the armchair squeak under her weight.
`` Well,'' started Randy, `` I feel like all these good things happen to me, all these opportunities laid in front of me, and all I have to do is just pick them up.''
`` What about your unemployment?''
`` Something very good will come out of it, I'm sure.''
`` Your wife leaving you? You were pretty upset about it last week.''
`` I just had a threesome last night. It was awesome. Wild monkey sex with Monica, you know Monica, and...''
But the sound of bells interrupted him before he could finish. It was the end of his therapy session.
-- -- --
-131
|
[ WP ] The zombie plague spreads like a Pandemic . Too bad Madagascar and New Zealand have already closed their borders .
| `` Well that's it for the'bacco''
Oliver twisted the paper lazily without looking at it, his head leaning back, legs splayed out with his back nestled into the crook of the bow.
He eyed the brilliant blaze of stars above him, tracing the distinct bright stripe that divided the sky.
`` Think they have tobacco?''
Rick did n't answer.
`` Aye, and weed. And whiskey!'' Oliverchuckled, Rick stopped for a moment and stretched his aching shoulders. He folded the oars along the sides of the boat.
Rick feigned a laugh as well, still staring upward.
`` As long as we get in.''
Oliver did not answer. Rick joined Oliver in admiration for the vastness above them. He took one oar and swept it through the water. The wake erupted in a spectacular shimmer and for a moment the ocean and sky seemed to mirror eachother, blazes of incomprehensible light dancing on impossibly dark, empty tapestries. The light faded around the paddle and the inky waves returned his sense of foreboding. He shivered and looked up again.
Oliver closed his eyes and the rhythmic clank of the oars gently rocked him to sleep.
`` Hey.''
Rick nudged Oliver and he snapped from his reverie in a panic.
The sun was radiating over the horizon, indicating the coming dawn.
`` Ship, buddy, we got ta do something here.''
`` How far out are we?'' Oliver forced his eyes open a couple times to adjust and sat up in the bow.
`` About a mile... Hard to tell in this light. If we're oriented right with the map should be pretty tough coast. Doubt there will be anyone ashore keeping an eye.''
Rick peered at the vessel, about 45 degrees off their path straight to the coast. He strained his eyes to pick up its orientation, but it seemed to be just sitting in the water, silent but imposing, wary but inactive.
`` I dunno if they're sleeping or what the fuck.. but I do n't think it's moving,'' Rick muttered.
`` How much gas?''
`` could maybe get us to shore if we tried but I do n't think it's worth the racket. We talked about it mate, I think we best get in and bust for it. Dry bag's ready, I threw what we had left while you were nodding, and it will provide a little more flotation than just the vests.''
`` Well we better hurry, light's coming quick.''
Rick pulled up a bench and removed a cordless drill. He wrapped it carefully in a towel and begin removing rivets from the floor of the aluminum vessel. When he had a handful up, he grabbed a pry bar from the same compartment, rammed it forcefully between the slats, and strained his body against the bar. The sheet of metal moved easily and water began pouring in the bottom as RIck fastened the last buckle of his vest. The water flushed his ankles and he withdrew them.
`` We'll be lucky to survive this water!''
`` Oh come on it's uncomfortable - it's not dangerous,'' Rick said unconvincingly.
They slipped overboard as the craft sat deeper in the water.
As the sun continued to rise, they alternated the use of the dry bag for extra buoyancy and kept an eye on the vessel. It was getting closer, but at an almost imperceptible clip. He guessed it to be about 50 feet long.
`` Break!'' Oliver gasped, and Rick stopped kicking, bobbing up and down in the swells while they caught their breath.
`` It's getting closer - do they see us?'' asked Oliver.
Rick could make out the boat much better now, and it was certainly getting closer. But it seemed oriented away from them.
`` No way,'' answered RIck with a much better feigned conviction.
As they worked their way inland, they could see the thick forest that spilled over the sharp cliffs where they were headed. There seemed to be no safe way to navigate the rocks. Worse, there was a clear riffle between them and the waves hitting shore.
`` We'll have to be careful getting closer - those rocks will bash us to pieces before we get within 100 yards of dry land.'' Oliver said. Rick had hoped he did n't notice them.
The ship continued to drift towards them, and Rick could make out more details as it followed them slowly inland.
Taking another break, they both stared silently at its strange path. Just then it lurched violently and spun unnaturally with a horrific screech of steel. The boat dipped far to its port side, and then ripped back upward as a wave slammed it broadside. It stood upright then dipped to starboard with another catastrophic crunch.
`` What the fuck?!''
`` It's totally fucked!'' yelled Rick back to Oliver as the boat continued to slam back and forth between the invisible ledge and the powerful ocean swells that pinned it helplessly.
Rick watched in awe until his clarity returned.
`` We got ta get in! Let's go! There's bound to be people swarming here to help these bastards!''
The two men pounded against the ocean, kicking and heaving mightily, their lungs screaming and eyes seared by the seawater. The sun was a few lengths above the horizon now, and they felt helplessly exposed in the glimmering sea. They managed to stay above the ledges but were tossed violently by the powerful changes in current as the massive swells churned over the submerged rocks.
They reached shore not with a triumphant grasp but a crash of flesh on rock, and pulled themselves with aching limbs above the fray of the tide. There was a treacherous goat path that navigated the rocky cliffs, and they stumbled up it with numb hands shredded by the unforgiving granite until they collapsed in a thick undergrowth on the crest of the cliff. `` Let's get away from this boat'' Oliver managed to gasp, and they summoned the strength to continue. As they trudged through the thick forest they came suddenly to a clearing with a small cabin and a well-manicured lawn.
`` There's a car in the drive.''
`` ALright let's take a wide berth.''
They skirted the cleared lot until they were almost around it, when Oliver stopped short.
`` What the fuck is that?''
He pointed to the edge of a small garden, where a leg jut out from the recently tilled earth. They both froze, and Rick moved forward to get a better look, still well-hidden in the forest. As he rounded the garden, he saw a man splayed on his stomach, clothes covered in mud. He was still twenty yards out, but there was no mistaking the stretched gray skin on the man's lower back where his shirt rode up, tattered and gaunt. He had been dead for quite some time. Rick crawled out to him, well out of sight of the house, until he was just 5 yards away, eyeing the man curiously. He lay prone, with his arms stretched out in front asif he had died in a desperate crawl. His face was turned away, and Rick could not tell how old he was. He moved closer to him.
`` what the FUCK are you doing?'' Oliver hissed.
Rick looked back and spoke plainly. `` Looks like this guy's been dead for a bit. Heart attack, maybe, while working the garden. Poor bastard.''
He stood up. `` Seeing as nobody's found him, he must have lived alone. Way out in this shit,'' he indicated the dense forest around them, `` been dead quite a while.''
Rick looked at him then began to move towards him. `` He may have some ID we can use, we'll check the house too.''
AS rick bent down to check the man's pockets a horrific rattle emanated from the body as its back arched suddenly and he dragged his face across the ground to turn to outstretched hand. Rick fell backwards with a yell as he met its lidless eyes, shining above the skin hanging off its putrid cheeks. Rick froze, and the body collapsed back to the earth, eyes still staring at rick, mouth cavernous as another horrible rattle escaped its lungs. Rick came to, glanced around and grabbed the shovel that was leaning against the garden fence. He struck the listless creature in the head with a dull thud, and thrust the spade between its head and shoulders, the rotten flesh severing easily. He dropped back to the treeline, breathing heavily.
Oliver spoke first, with a sob lodged in his constricted throat.
`` It was bullshit... They're here too.''
|
[ WP ] Upon death , you find yourself with a pad of paper , filled with time-stamped quotes . You soon realize that they are things you wanted to say in life but never did . When reading each one , you are given insight into the often heartbreaking results of your silence .
| `` Love you too.''
I wanted to say it, but I was too prideful. I remember the exact moment. The last phone call I had with my Dad. I was mad, as usual, with the way he decided to live his life. Leaving my mom, being somewhat of an ass to me my whole life.
But he was my Dad.
It was too late now. He was gone, I was gone.
At least his list did n't have this quote. That might have been what got me the most. At the end he said what he always said `` Alright buddy. Good talking to you. Love you.''
I replied `` Alright. See ya later.-'' this is where I thought to say it, but I did n't. I chose not to.
`` -Bye.''
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[ WP ] You find an old occult book , that could potentionally give you the power to either end or save the world , however you hate reading .
| Having recently been hired to keep this shitty old bookstore clean, I found my job more difficult than you would imagine. Constantly, dust fucking everywhere. Even with the air purifiers I added to the store to help me with my job. Not to mention the constant new arrivals of books that the owner gets at auctions, yard sales, flea markets, you name it.
And sure enough, with new crates of books, comes new filth to clean.
A new shipment came in today, and as usual, it falls on me to sort out the books, leaf through them even though I hate reading, and put them on the appropriate shelves. Seems this was from some old estate auction. Great. Whatever. I pry the crate open and begin sorting. There's a few first edition signed books, I set those aside, the owner will want to specially price those later. And then there's this one book, with gold squiggles and the image of a skull on the cover. Great, another lovecraft book or something.
I open it up and begin leafing through it. Well, great, this looks to be some shitty old occult book, that's just wonderful, we usually need to run these by the cops before selling them, just to make sure nobody was murdered because of one or some other shit that ties these things up legally.
However, I do find some interesting passages about the four horsemen, how to remove hate and evil from the world, yadda yadda. Seems this book offers to both destroy and save. I'm going to be expected to read through this book, if it's not tied up to any murders. fucking great. I hate when that happens, and this book is like three times thicker than any other occult book I've ever seen before too.
I quietly set the book aside in my backpack to deal with later.
|
[ WP ] You 're the final captain of a ship tasked with the millennial mission of saving the human race on a newly discovered planet . Upon arrival , you discover the planet has already been colonized , due to Earth developing more advanced spacecraft whilst you were away .
| There is the hissing sound of gas escaping through a narrow aperture. At first everything is numbness as Markus wakes up in the little pod. As the sensation begins to return to his body, tingling like pins and needles, his mind slowly begins to make sense of his surroundings.
He says out loud, `` Captain Markus Knight, pass code 903-Bravo-76-Delta''.
A disembodied voice responds, `` Welcome back from your nap captain.''
Markus glances at his screen, `` Why did you wake me up? We have another 6 weeks before we arrive on Nova.'' Markus rubs 150 years of crust from his eyes.
The disembodied voice seems to come from a little camera above his pod, `` We have received a transmission that seems to be coming from between ourselves and Nova.''
Markus looks confused for a moment, `` Wait, what? Is it intelligible?''
`` Yes sir. Starting playback.''
A tinny sounding voice flows from the speaker, `` Ahoy Markus! You low down bottom dwelling knuckle dragger! You're a year and a half late!''
Markus' first thought was, `` Holy shit, that's English. ``, and then, `` Is that Doug?''
Markus touches his screen a few times.
`` Your channel is open'', chimes the voice.
Markus says, with more than a little apprehension in his voice, `` Doug?''
The speaker squawks, `` You bet your ass its Doug! I'm about 12 minutes out. Hang on, I got you.''
`` But... how? Should n't you be dead?''
Doug laughs, `` Do n't worry about it. I'll be there in a few, and I'll fill you in while we head back, a lot has happened in the last 1023 years.''
|
[ WP ] A sunset by any other name ...
| Thousands gathered on rooftops, more stood in the middle of the street. Some wept, others held hands. The elderly turned away with muttered prayers, shaking their heads as they gripped their loved-ones tight. The last transport left an hour ago, the location so secretive, those blessed with the correct lottery number had no idea where they were going. And I was here. Standing on my doorstep, watching the end of the last normal day.
The giant gas ball of heat and light filled the horizon, brighter and hotter each passing day. Its light was an angry, twisted red, and it taunted the world with fire. As the Sun sank below the horizon, the burns on my face cooled. The weeping started not long after, a cacophony of sobs that sounded more like a howling wind. I shut the door and bolted it by reflex. For a moment, I stared at the silly brass lock, then laughed in utter defeat.
Steve sat behind our kitchen counter, a bottle of vodka and two glasses beside him. One was half-full; he had started without me. The unit on the wall marked the temperature at a cool seventy-five degrees. Soft light glowed beneath the marble countertops, illuminating the dust on the floor. After our daughter Emily won the lottery and left for Titan, I stopped cleaning.
I sat beside my husband and leaned back in my seat, wordlessly reaching for the vodka. I didn ’ t bother with the glass.
The monitor flicked on, our eyes lifting automatically to the official who filled the screen.
“ My fellow citizens. It is with great sorrow I speak to you from the capitol tonight. My words will be brief, as there is no comfort, no hope I can provide. Tomorrow begins the greatest challenge the Earth has ever faced. My only solace is that our species will live on. As the Sun engulfs our planet, those in the outer Solar System will make a new life for humanity. Your children. Your grandchildren. Now I leave you to your night. May God have mercy on us all. ”
The screen flicked off. Steve leaned back with a grunt. “ Ten more years. All we needed was ten more years. ”
I didn ’ t reply, choosing instead to take another swig from the bottle.
Steve placed his head in his hands. “ I don ’ t understand how the scientists got it so wrong. They said we had three centuries, maybe four. And now this. ”
I placed the bottle on the table. “ Maybe they ’ ll be wrong about tomorrow, too. ”
Steve ’ s head came up. “ It ’ s not too late to join the underground initiative. ”
I snorted. “ Steve, come on. We both know they ’ re going to run out of food in a matter of months. I ’ d rather bake to death than starve to death. ” I reached for the bottle again. “ Or slit my own wrists. ”
Steve reached into his pocket with a grunt, and pulled out a small plastic vial. Inside were two yellow pills. I asked the question, already knowing the answer.
“ What ’ s that? ”
Steve shook the pills. “ We can take them at dawn. ”
I grabbed the vodka bottle again. “ Yeah. ” There was nothing else to say.
A knock sounded at our door, and changed a second later to frantic pounding. Steve reached the door first; I took another drink.
“ Beth, Steve, come with us, hurry! ” It was my sister and her two children, the drooling three-year-old on her hip. “ There ’ s another ship, Roger just messaged me, he ’ s looking right at it. We need to hurry! ”
Steve and I exchanged a long look, and we both ran to grab our shoes.
|
[ WP ] `` For the dead travel fast . ''
| `` Soon you'll be home, Mr. President,'' the conductor said as he wiped a tear from his eye. The casket sat in silent concurrence, draped with stripes. Outside the train, the people stood. Men, women, blacks, whites, Democrats, Republicans; the people stood to see their man off.
The engine roared as the conductor shoveled more coal into the flames. The horn blared somberly. A man squeezing his accordion on the platform choked up as he sung, and the women wailed as the train started to roll out of the station.
`` Oh, soon you'll be at rest,'' the conductor said as he wiped his eyes with a white handkerchief. `` The dead travel fast, and this engine faster.''
|
The ambassador of an invading alien army explains to the EU why the aliens generally only attack the US .
| `` You ca n't be serious.''
The U.S. ambassador stared back at two of his colleagues. Two people he had worked closely with for years. Two people he called friends.
`` I'm afraid so.'' The U.K. ambassador stared placidly back at him. `` We just heard ourselves, not an hour ago. There was a closed-door session of the security council in Geneva. They thought it better not to make the news public.''
Alan felt the blood draining from his face.
`` Let me get this straight. We were invaded because of a....dispute between two of the alien commanders?''
`` Well, not exactly.'' the Canadian Ambassador said quietly. `` More of a... wager.''
Alan nearly fainted. `` They destroyed my country over a *bet*?''
`` Apparently the two of them....for lack of a better term... got drunk one night, and there was an arguement over whether or not the United States could be successfully invaded with ground troops and small arms alone..''
`` Small arms??'' Alan yelled. Heads were turning towards him in the hotel bar. `` The oil refineries in Texas and Louisiana are smoking craters in the ground! Cheyenne Mountain's a lake, Washington D.C. is *gone* for Christ's sake, and you're talking about small arms?!''
`` They're still arguing over that point.'' the Canadian Ambassador said. `` One of them feels, as we do n't have anything like their anti-matter weapons, that it was a violation of the wager. That, and the losses they accrued. I'm not sure they were aware you had so many guns lying around. I understand their representative apologized. Both commanders are being disciplined for their actions.''
`` Disciplined. Jesus.'' Alan took a deep breath, let it out, sipped his scotch. `` At least it ca n't get any worse.''
Both ambassadors looked at each other. The Canadian drew a thick envelope out of his inner pocket, paused, and handed to Alan.
`` I'm really sorry to be the one doing this.''
Alan had spent his whole career in the diplomatic corps. It took him thirty seconds to wade through the diplomatic legal jargon.
`` The E.U. is *suing* us?'' He was shouting again. The bartender looked up this time.
`` They believe... you're monopolizing the alien technology that's been distributed.'' The U.K. ambassador said. `` You have gotten more of it than anyone else, you know. They feel you have an unfair edge.''
`` We do n't have an edge. We do n't have an infrastructure! Hell, we do n't have anything. Those matter replicators are the only things keeping people fed and clothed. It'll take us decades to recover, if we recover at all. I still do n't know why they left California alone...''
`` They mentioned that this morning.'' the U.K. Ambassador said. `` It seems they have a fondness for the... um..computer games made there.''
`` This ca n't be happening.'' Alan said. He gulped down his twelve-year-old Macallan's like it was cheap liquor.
`` They also like Hollywood movies and television, but those have been available through broadcasts for decades. They could n't download games from that distance, so they thought it best if they left California intact.''
Alan stared glumly into the bottom of his glass. `` I do n't know why you're telling me this. There's nothing I can do. I ca n't even pass it on to anyone in power, officially. I would n't know whom to contact.''
Two U.S. Senators, and one Air Force General had survived the assault. All three of them were in different parts of the country, and all three of them had declared themselves President of the United States.
*At least all the ammo is gone. * Alan thought. At the rate all three were issuing threats, they should be throwing rocks at each other any day now.
`` Yes, well we've been talking, and we think we have a solution to your problems.''
`` Oh?''
The Canadian Ambassador smiled.'You could let us annex you.''
`` Annex?'' Alan waved the bartender over. He was definitely going to need another drink.''
`` Yes. We could do it rather easily right now. You really do n't have a government. Each state would have full representation in Parliament, and we have aid workers ready to move across the border when you're ready. Everyone from doctors to construction crews.''
`` And as a new member of the Commonwealth of Nations, the United Kingdom is willing to apply pressure to the E.U. to drop the lawsuit.'' said the U.K. Ambassador. `` They'll want better access to the new technology of course, but that's something that can be negotiated though the U.N.''
Alan sipped at his second scotch. `` Again, why are you telling me this?''
Both ambassadors grinned.
`` We think you'd be the perfect choice for Prime Minister of the Commonwealth of the United States.''
Alan dropped his scotch.
|
[ WP ] A person released from prison discovers that the world has went 20 years into the past rather than 20 years in the future after the date of their incarceration .
| The woman behind the desk is fiddling with a heavy pen. Her glasses are thin, her hair set and reeking of spray. There is lipstick on the edges of her teeth like blood.
`` Here to gather your effects?''
`` Yes.''
The caddy flutters as she moves it. Her nametag is a pin and only the last three letters are visible. `` Deborah Hale?''
`` Yes. Number 46192.''
The woman sucks on her teeth. `` One moment hon.'' She picks up a phone from the desk, opens a line. When she punches in the number the tones are loud. It reminds Deb of that movie, with the planes and the two guys handcuffed together. *Midnight Run*.
Deb can hear the buzzing. It rings and rings. Finally the woman puts it down.
`` Wait here,'' she's says, and surges away from the desk. Deb's been in system since she was twelve. She knows how to wait. There is not mesh here. Not even a closed circuit camera. Near the door ( the one sealed with a button behind the desk ) is a off tan card. *Exit With Care* it warns. Deb fiddles with the edge of her jumpsuit. It has the odd impersonal feel of hospital clothes. She is good at waiting.
The woman comes back with a smal pile. When she sits the chair sighs.
`` One pair of unerwear, one pair of trousers, one pair of socks, one shirt, one pair of shoes, one set of laces. Thirty dollars in bills, seven in loose change. Two pencils.'' As she speaks the woman chches off a list. She turns the paper to Deb. `` Sign here.''
`` What about my pager?''
The woman shrugges. `` We are not responsible for any lost property during the duration of your incarceration. If you have any complains you may contact the warden. He's out for the day. Personal reasons.'' Her long nail taps the sheet. `` Please sign.''
Outside the door is the sun. It makes her eyes hurt. She's on the edge of the north of thirty and she wants a fruit salad. Not the odd canned chemical shit, the real kind she never really liked. Maybe she would even try those exotic ones, kiwi and pineapple and dragon fruit. A low city car passed. On the back looped *bel air*. It was an eye popping blue. There were fins.
Deb used a few quarters to call around. Every time she dialed it would just click over. All the change she got back was heavier. Finally she tried zero.
`` Can I get a collect call? Deb Hale for Helen Barns, 910 Green Ave, the Bronx, New York.''
There were soft noises, then, `` 910 Green Ave?''
`` Yes.''
`` There is no Barns listed at this address. Could you be trying to contact a different person? Or perhaps I can look for the Helen Barns'. In what area of the Bronx would she live?''
`` East side. And yes, I'll hold.''
Across the street a few kids were kicking a can, passing a bottle around. One had a blunt tucked behind his ear. Deb did n't do anything. She just watched them meander away.
After a few minutes the phone beeped. She almost fed it a few more coins. It was so weird, this faux-historical reenactment everyone was muddling through.
`` Are you there miss?''
`` Yes.''
`` I've reached a Helen Barnes willing to take the call. Shall I put you through?''
`` Yes.'' Then she remembered. `` Please.''
The line change was loud.
`` Hello.'' It was n't Helen. Well, it must be, but it was n't the Helen she wanted.
`` I'm sorry, I think this is the wrong...''
`` Are you calling from the womens prison on Long Island?''
`` Yes.''
`` Oh, I thought so.'' There was a hiss down the line, something being dragged across the mouthpiece. `` I know I'm the wrong Helen but I image you're in need of a place to stay. Listen, I live in 411, in the new Schumer building. Come by and crash for the night.''
Deb fiddled with the cold cord. It flat like a metal snake. The edges of the wrap picked her skin. 411. Schumer. `` Sure.'' Deb almost reached in her pockets to check the time. `` Do you have the time?''
`` It's almost ten in the morning. Get a cab. Tell them it's collect.''
`` I thought they did n't do that anymore.''
`` Times, they are a changin'.'' This Helen Barns said.
`` I heard.''
`` So you know? About the whole...''
`` We had newspapers.
`` I see.'' There was a pause. Deb could feel herself sweating. It stung her eyes. Helen reajusted the set. She could hear that. `` Should be a short trip for you. I'll be waiting outside. On the left.''
`` Alright.''
`` Alright. See you then.''
`` See you.'' Deb knew in moves people never said goodbye. No one really ever said it, though.
[ to be continued ]
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[ WP ] `` Once , long ago , there lived a girl who dreamed of a white city beyond the sky ... ''
| Her mother pauses, to check if she wants to continue. There ’ s a sly smile on the woman ’ s face. Loriya wriggles deeper into her blankets, a wide grin on her face. Her eyes are sharply focused on her mother. Satisfied with her daughter ’ s attention, her mother threads her fingers together and leans forward conspiratorially.
“ A large city, as far as the eye can see. Glittering and gleaming in the purest of white. ” A slight pause, as if to reassure herself of what would come next. “ She dreamed over and over again of this city until she was an adult and stared at the sky. She believed that the city was out there on a bed of stars. ”
Her mother adjusts to draw back, shifting one leg over the other.
“ Time went by and she forgot, even though the dreams still came. Even so, whenever she could see the sea of stars at night, she remembered and would long to see the city for herself. ” Another small, pleased smile plays across her mother ’ s face. “ She decided to work towards making her dream come true, the dream of seeing the white city under the gentle light. ”
“ Under the dwarf star, right? ” Loriya chimes in.
“ Under the dwarf star, ” her mother repeats with a smile. “ She searched and searched, looking for the white city far beyond the sky. Years went by. Many years where others laughed and she was tempted towards the idea of giving up the search. So tempted, that for a few years, she did. ”
“ Aww. ” Loriya pouts but blinks heavily, reaching one hand up in an attempt to rub sleep from her eyes.
“ Not forever though, ” her mother is quick to add. “ But for a couple years, she did give up the search. She found someone she loved dearly. She had children with her beloved. The person she loved so dearly that she couldn ’ t help but share her dreams with. And her beloved turned her back to her dream of finding the white city beyond the sky. ”
“ And then? ” Loriya yawns, snuggling deeper into the blankets.
“ She found it. Amongst all the stars and planets in the sky—in numbers far beyond we have words for, she found the white city. ” Her mother runs her hand over her head, still smiling. Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “ Her discovery spread across the world like fire on the plains. So the building began. ”
“ Of the— ” After another yawn, Loriya continues, “ Frigates, right? ” Her eyes close and flutter open to focus up on her mother again.
“ Exactly. ” Her mother nods, continuing to run her hand over her hair. “ She oversaw the building of the Frigates, keeping an eye on the white city and knowing that she would reach it someday soon. ” There ’ s a very long silence. “ Though her body grew frail, she knew that she would make it to her beloved white city. ”
“ Gramma ’ s all tucked in, right? ” Loriya ’ s words are slurred, sleep coming on quick.
Her mother looks to the beautifully decorated urn tucked in with a blanket nearby, the blanket having been Loriya ’ s idea so that her grandmother wouldn ’ t get cold. “ She is. ”
“ Gramma Evelynn will be happy to see the city, ” Loriya murmurs out.
“ She will. ” Her mother leans in and kisses her head. “ Now go to sleep. When you wake up, we will be there. ”
Loriya can barely nod before she ’ s fallen asleep. Her mother stays quiet for a second before carefully drawing back, snugging her daughter into the cyrosleep pod and carefully closing the lid. There ’ s a moment before her daughter is sealed in and asleep for the long journey to come. She kisses the sleep pod a second time, a small, sad smile on her face.
She turns away, looking to the urn before carefully sealing it into place as well, to be certain that it won ’ t move in flight. Leaning her head against the cover, she shuts her eyes. Long moments go by before she draws back, tears in her eyes again.
Stepping to her own sleep pod, she takes a long look out the portcullis of the ship. The sea of stars greets her with blue dot far away, the distance growing with every moment. After a moment, she lays back in the pod.
“ Be there soon mom. I know you ’ re waiting for us, ” she murmurs as the door closes over her head.
***
^ ( *Find more of my writing at r/Syraphia* )
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[ WP ] A gladiator arena filled with all sorts of fighters . Some are hulking behemoths , wielding gigantic weapons . Some are nightmarish beasts with claws and fangs . And you ? You are the greatest warrior of them all : an unarmed human . What is your secret ?
| `` Impressed my liege. that it was I who walked into your arena, and walked back out with little effort?
I entered, amused at the sheer amount of creatures you had managed to acquire for this little game.
A minotaur with a giant axe in the corner, an entire army of zombies, and I could swear that was cthulhu... but me. I was just an ordinary human being. as far as anyone knew.
I could hear the basilisk charging me from behind as I approached the middle of the arena, but it did n't matter. I continued my casual stroll, and the creature found itself suddenly flattened to the ground unable to move. the pressure on it's brain killed it. Lucky me it died huh?
Next was the gorgons. I'm blind as a bat. but they did n't know. glass eyes means I'm not stone and they have no idea why. their arrows went straight into their hearts. they we're a nuisance.
Oh and that minotaur I mentioned? I threw him at the werewolves. Let those play together.
I loved the colossi. two monsters the size of skyscrapers... I made them vanish into the sky...
Anyway. you get my point. Now you know the invisible creature running around was me the whole time. Now that I'm here In the center, and I have you're attention... what shall I do with the rest of your pets? Burn them? Send them into space? Crush them into a massive ball of gore?
Being one who controls all movement in his vicinity I assure you, I can do a great many things. You should declare me the winner right now.''
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[ WP ] You are a time traveler whose job is to make our world a better place . You have saved Lincoln stopped 9/11 and made sure that the Library of Alexandria was never destroyed . Now as he you get ready for your next mission your employer tells you : `` Make Hitler win '' .
| I'd never questioned the core, positive value of my mission ( s ). It was fairly clear, at least to myself, that I was an instrument of negation for negative forces that had slipped through history's cracks. The Doc had always been right and as far as I was concerned Doc was God.
The instructions were fairly clear: infiltrate Hitler's ranks prior to the Nazi invasion of Russia, steer the Third Reich to a victory over the Allies... and return to the present. Nothing about this seemed positive. Perhaps the Doc was willing to sacrifice the past for a future brighter than I could possibly envision. It seemed messy but if I did n't do it I could just as easily be replaced by one both capable and willing. Doc would send him / her back in time to erase my time spent in the `` time-manipulation program'' and my image would fade from photographs in my parents' living room à la `` Back to the Future.'' Very poetic but maybe not at all.
I readied myself for the mission, oddly devoid of any existential dilemma. I was buying in to Doc's Godness. I was the paintbrush, Doc was the painter. The brush does n't ask questions.
With an hour left before I was to be sent back, Doc confronted me:
`` You know what you're going to do?''
`` Yes, of course.''
`` And no questions or concerns, right?''
`` No, of course --''
With phenomenal agility, Doc withdrew a hooker-esque pistol from an inside pocket of his jacket and blasted me three times in the chest and I dropped to the floor. Blood pooled around me it was warm and somehow pleasant. What a bizarre turn of events.
I was conscious but cold. Doc walked over. His worn leather boots were a foot from my face. He stood at the edge of my pooling blood and spoke:
`` It is essential for one to question what he is told, to question authority in general. This is the wrong kind of work for one who blindly follows orders. For all that I know, I know nothing.''
He was n't so much speaking to me as to the world around him. It all felt a bit Shakespearian. Doc was Prospero, I was Kaliban. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I smiled. Doc loaded his gun and fired one last shot into the back of my head. No questions asked.
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[ WP ] A man wants to sell his soul to a demon but the thing he wants in return is so dubious the demon is thrown for a loop .
| `` So, what is it you seek, mortal?'' The demon was an unseen force but its stench lay thick and terrifying in the dead still air of autumn night. `` You have summoned my aspect, gained my attention with superhuman stubbornness, great eloquence, an almost stupid belief in yourself, and a wizardly finger of power.''
Something stirred in the dark. Slithered. `` So, now, you have my full attention.'' The voice was gravelled of graveyards. The dark bared a red rimmed mouth in a terrible grin. `` What do you sweat for, mortal?''
`` Finally. Guys, I know they like to bash Comcast, that's not me, but it's taken longer than usual this time to get to a real voice today on this helpline, but hey fuck, finally someone's who's not gargling curry. My router's is blinking strangely again. Jesus, that's the third time this week. I would sell my soul to have it working properly for 2 goddamn days. I just bought this shit, holy green balls of Baal.''
``...''
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[ WP ] Coins , cash , and credit are worthless . Blood is the new currency of the world .
| Cole Blockham was a rich man and many people came to his compound on a regular basis, bearing objects with which to barter and trade. A small woman, arrived at his gates on an insignificant sunset. The sky was the colour of rust and the world smelled of olives.
`` Got a pass?''
The guards were trigger-happy and they had reason to be. Only the week before, they'd lost one of their lot to a knife wielding lunatic. The survivors had learned their lesson well.
`` Lady. You got your pass?''
`` Yes, I do. Here.''
A short, brown skinned woman handed her papers to the nearest guardsman. Her name did n't matter. Names rarely mattered any more.
`` Let me feel one.''
The guard was referring to her goods; a pair of woollen sweaters, hand knitted and draped over her shoulders.
`` Sure, here.''
The guard reached forward and teased the material between his fingers. It reminded him of his sister, but he did n't say anything. He sucked up a smile before it could escape his face and then he stood aside, grim lipped.
`` Very well, in you go.''
With a tired screech, the large metallic gate was wheeled open, baring the dusty track towards the inner compound. The wool trader wandered in, clutching her sweaters tightly.
Past the gates, amidst the bosom of courtyard, the woman was soon greeted by Cole, the only name that mattered around here. The name Cole, belonged to a large, thick bellied man, with a nest-like beard. Cole knew how to smile and did so upon greeting the woman, baring two rows of paling yellow teeth.
`` Ah! What have we here? Wool? Now that is a commodity I admire! Come, come. Let me feel it.''
Cole, like the guardsman outside, hurried over and plucked up some of the wool, humming contemplatively while his fingers explored the knit.
`` It is smooth. Soft. May I try one on?''
`` Of course.''
The woman shed her sweaters and lay them onto the rim of a well. One of them was chosen at random and offered over to Cole. With obvious impatience, he took it up and hoisted it over his head, sliding the shape down until it absorbed his girthy form. Cole grinned.
`` I like it! It will be brilliant in the nights. How much?''
`` A... Two bags.''
`` Two? For both?''
`` No. For each.''
Cole could not only smile. He also could also'not smile.' So Cole did that. He did n't smile and his eyes, dark little beady things, made sure that the woman knew that he *wasn't* smiling.
`` Two? For both? Right?''
Nerve broken, the woman nodded vigorously. Her lips proclaimed apologies and she held out the second fleece. Cole nodded and received the second garment with a satisfied snort.
`` Good, good. Now, for your payment. Come.''
This was the part that the lady had been waiting for. She licked her lips expectantly and followed Cole as he began to march towards a lonely, corrugated building. This building was set aside, near the end of the courtyard and it smelled strongly of headaches. Cole reached the door to this building and fumbled around for a fat, golden key in his pockets. Once he'd found it, he promptly opened up the entrance and carried on inside, into the abattoir.
`` We have a reasonable selection, right now.''
It was dark inside. Very dark. A cold and soaked type of dark, that bubbles up around the eyes. It took the woman a few minutes to adjust to the lighting before she could finally make out any of the features within.
`` I do n't know,'' she said. `` Are there ever any recommendations?''
The darkness peeled away and the room became a fudgy gray scene. The main article of interest within the room, were two long rows of hanging meats, each one limp and dripping, stuck atop the end of a hanging hook. Cole shuffled over to one of these shapes and dragged it forward, sliding the hook along the meat rail.
`` This one is very popular,'' he announced.
The meat groaned, pitifully. It had been known as Jane, once. But Jane's name did n't matter any more. Only the red juices that flowed around inside, that's all that mattered.
The woman surveyed Jane. She dribbled thoughts through her mouth, in little hums and'um's. A salivating decision. Eventually, the woman nodded.
Cole grinned; a wraith-like expression that pierced the shadows and gleamed, slick and shiny.
`` Excellent. I shall get the needle.''
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[ WP ] Humanity wipes out a virus that makes people stupid .
| In the end, it was a simple. It was so simple, we overlooked it for hundreds of years. It was a virus. That's all it was. When you looked at it objectively, without all of the superstition, warnings about damnation, condemnation, and judgmental control, it was an idea, rather than an organism, that spread from host to host and infected everyone.
In the end, it was the same thing that wiped out organized religion that wiped out polio. Education, a concentrated effort of dedicated individuals, and organization. Organization away from the chaos and the unknown and into the waiting bosom of knowledge.
In the end, we wiped out the religion virus ourselves.
A hundred years later, when the last of the generation that believed the superstitions were real had long since died off, they finally contacted us. They came from the skies and recognized we had wiped out the virus that had almost consumed countless worlds. It was this that finally led us to see us as no longer a threat to the universe, and they welcomed us to the stars with open arms. We had finally been cured.
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[ WP ] Crimes are punished by illness/disease , not prison/fines .
| It was crueller, to punish them this way, but bodies make cheaper prisons than the vast concrete statements we used to make. For the petty criminals, those who deserved the mercy we show to animals, it was a quick affair. They'd come into the hospital, sedated and calm, get infected and burn up in contained chambers within days. The doctors never even saw them after the initial infection. It was a painless inferno that ravaged their bodies before the crematorium downstairs did the same.
For those criminal for whom public outcry demanded blood, the process was entirely more gruesome. They were infected with every possible strain of disease mankind had contained within syringes. It became a contest, between the doctors, to see who could keep their patient alive longest. Constantly hauling their souls back into their increasingly sickly bodies, until their was no longer any purchase for their life to hold onto.
And after they finally let those ones burn, the doctors would wait hungrily for news of criminals who could fill the void they sought to create.
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[ WP ] A girl discovers that she can talk to a boy living a post-apocalyptic future while they dream .
| `` Allyson, sweetheart, you need to sleep sometime. You've been up for two days straight,'' my mother said, concern wavering her voice. She was sitting on the edge of my bed, stroking my unwashed hair.
`` I know, I know,'' I said, the words whispered though exhaustion. `` I just ca n't. I ca n't go through those horrible dreams again.''
`` Honey, I know you've been having nightmares lately, but you really need to rest up. It's not good for the little one,'' she said, moving her hand from my hair to place it on my growing midsection. I was four months along and starting to show.
Thank fucking god I had understanding parents who remembered what it was like to be seventeen and unintentionally reckless. Sam Bradson's parents were not quite as reasonable, and I doubt the high fives from his friends were worth the belt lashings doled out by his father once he heard Sam had knocked me up. Sam Bradson with his beautiful blue eyes and his fake smile and his football physique and his stolen bottle of gin and his perfect fucking auburn hair. I felt my cheeks flush at the thought of him, whether from adoration or anger I was n't sure. But I was sure that this situation incubating inside me was messing with my head, causing the terrible apocalyptic dreams I had for the past week.
`` Fine, fine,'' I consented, begrudgingly. `` I will rest my eyes for a few minutes, but I'm keeping the lights on. Deal?''
My mother sighed, almost imperceptibly, `` Deal.'' She got up from my bed and stretched her back. She looked especially tired tonight. `` Just let me know if you need anything, your father and I will be watching the news in the living room,'' she said as she tiptoed out of my room, softly closing the door behind her.
I was practically asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The light from my bedside lamp shining through my eyelids, illuminating a dull redness in my mind. Slowly that redness grew dimmer and deeper, until I was wading through a crimson landscape of terrible familiarity. The dreams always began like this, with me walking down a mangled street, eerily similar to the street where I grew up, alone and scared and uncomfortably warm. The once suburban houses were devastated, the streetlights contorted into uncomfortable poses, the sky stained bright red behind acidic clouds. Overall, a massive fucking shitshow. I just had to make it to the neighborhood park, to see what this dream had in store for me tonight.
In the first nightmare I had a week ago, the park was filled with giant bloodthirsty alligators, but I was able to scramble to the top of the monkey bars and wait it out until morning. The next night was populated by huge, angry gorillas with their fucking opposable thumbs and I had spent the entire dream running for my life. I woke up drenched in sweat. And finally, last time had the skinless, screaming corpses who wanted to eat my face and drink my blood. I was n't quite clear if they were vampires or zombies, but it was by far the worst fucking one of the bunch and I vowed not to sleep ever again. But there I was dreaming again, sitting anxiously on the wooden park bench, waiting for something terrifying to tear my limbs off or burst out of my chest or tell me I'm late for a math test I did n't study for... in Hell.
But none of that happened.
The visitor that did appear was not what I was expecting. He was a boy, maybe five or six years old, and adorable, despite the long scar running from his left eyelid down his neck. He sat down next to me on the bench, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and looked at me with his big blue eyes.
`` Well hello,'' I said hesitantly. `` You're new here. My name's Allyson. What's yours?''
`` Jacob,'' Jacob said, shyly.
`` Jacob, are you lost? Do you need help?'' He stared at me blankly. `` What are you doing here?''
`` Sleeping, dreaming'' he yawned. His tongue was black with soot.
`` I'm dreaming too, Jacob. I fall asleep at night and I end up in this place with all these terrible things, monsters, demons, whatever, that try and catch me,'' I said. `` But you know what? They have n't caught me yet and I wo n't let them.''
`` I see the monsters too,'' he said, nervously, wringing his little hands.
`` Just remember, they ca n't hurt you because it's just a silly dream and they're not real,'' I said, trying to reassure him. I reached over and tousled his thick, auburn hair. He looked at me, frightened.
`` But... But they ARE real,'' he said, scared. `` The monsters are real, not just in the dreams, and they are bad, very very bad.''
`` No... That ca n't be...''
`` They are real and mean and will hurt you bad if they ever catch you, that's what you always told me before...''
`` Wait, me? I said what? Before what?'' I asked, panicked, my heart pounding in my ears.
`` Before the monsters caught you, Mom,'' he said, his big doe eyes looking longingly at me. `` You said if I needed to see you, I just had to dream of this place and you'd be here.''
`` No, that ca n't be true,'' I said, standing up from the bench. My head was swimming, I heard a low noise off in the distance, like an approaching freight train blowing its horn to signal its arrival.
`` It's true... You told me that it may take some time before you understand, but it's real, the monsters are real, I'm real,'' Jacob pleaded with me. The sky darkened around us. The roaring grew louder, echoing off the demolished houses and barren trees. Sounding like loud, violent waves crashing against a rocky shore, foghorns blaring alongside.
He reached out and clasped my hand. `` I'll see you next time, Mom.''
I tried to talk, but my voice was drowned out by the now deafening noise around us. The streetlights shook and exploded into cascades of bright tears. The sky opened and a thick crimson fog engulfed us, still holding hands, until my vision was reduced to a murky red haze.
I awoke abruptly, the noise still ringing in my ears, as my mother ran into my room.
`` Allyson, get up sweetheart, we need to get downstairs to the shelter!'' my mother instructed, throwing off my covers. `` Do n't you hear the warning sirens? It's happening! We need to hurry!''
My father sealed the thick metal door behind us just as the world was beginning to end. My parents stayed awake that night, through the myriad blasts heard rumbling outside the shelter walls, searching for a radio signal to find out what was happening. And during it all, I was soundly asleep on the thin cotton mattress in the corner of the shelter, dreaming again of what was now left of the world.
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[ WP ] You are a normal person who spent your entire life infiltrating the evil Empire . You even became the Emperor 's right hand . The day before you finally topple the Empire , the hero arrives , kills the Emperor , and saves the day .
| *Years. So many years. * Shok introspected on the journey that took him this far. The sacrifices he has made. The pain he endured. The lies he told through his gritted teeth. The battles he lead to overwhelming victory. He nearly annihilated the elemental Gods in his crusade. Ravaged the druidic lands. Toppled the human empire. His sanity was long depleted, for as long as the Grand Emperor ruled over his dominion, the life of all living beings was doomed sooner or later. Shok dedicated his life to the study of war, for what?
`` Arran!'' Dust seeped from the ceiling as Shok's voice echoed through the throne room, momentarily a feeble ogre stepped forward from the shadows.
`` Y-yes my kindest master?'' The pathetic thing quivered. It's honesty as true to it's nature as its beauty.
`` The cup has a dent. Replace it.'' With haste, Shok headed to the throne room. Finally being promoted as the right-hand man of the Emperor, it was bound he would stand beside him, just as his unfortunate predecessor.
`` But sir, it is barely noticable.'' Arran argued, examining the cup. A wave of regret awoshed over him when the Grand General gazed over his shoulder and pierced his mortal soul.
`` Your vitals will be barely noticable if you dare to quibble with me, you pathetic thing! Get out of my sight before you join the ranks of Gena!''
With that Arran, and the cup, would be nowhere to be found.
*Gena. * A campaign of extraordinary cruelty. The first, and by far, greatest scar left on this plane of existence. As a campaign of terror, the Dark Lord not only gifted the survivors to his minions, no, he turned it into a competition and would shower with gold whichever goblin tortured a human to the greatest extent. Many were taken as slaves; the women as sexual, the men for their labour, but all for their entertainment. Many captured that did n't enjoy the luxury of dying young would be kept imprisoned and tortured relentlessly, some even for years at a time. One of them Shok's mother. Shok's dear mother did n't have the mercy of dying, no, instead the Dark Lord founded an organisation of exceptionally sadistic and powerful Dark Etherals and directed them to use their power to study humans. Shok's mother befell in the category of terror. From the documentation it took only 42 hours for her to lose her sanity and 1688 hours to finally rest.
But that was in the past. And the past could n't hinder Shok. This was the grand finale. The day he awaited for. And with that determination he swung the door open.
`` We've another one.'' The cleric observed as her companions were too preoccupied scavenging whatever was salvagable. That is if anything, as Shok observed. The entire room was scorched, and you could n't differentiate between a common goblin and the Dark lord since the crust on their skin was no different than the scaly, dark armor of the Emperor.
`` Holster your weapons, heroes. I'm not an enemy, I'm an ally.'' *This changes things. *
`` You? An ally? Emperor's right hand? Do n't make me laugh.'' The Sorceress scuffled.
`` You've wiped out the gnomish population.'' Paladin added.
`` And spared as many as I could.''
`` You ravaged my lands!'' The druid seethed with rage.
`` I had no choice.'' Shok conceded.
`` Enough! I wo n't be fooled by your trickery, traitor!''
`` Wait!'' Shok held one palm open and in the other his dagger, halting the party in their battlestances, `` if I truly was as corrupt as you speak, could I wield this.'' And with that Shok drew his blade from his holster. A pristine, enchanted blade with holy aura. A very distinct holy aura.
`` That's a holy weapon...'' Cleric dropped her stance, baffled, `` But how could a being this wretched...''
`` Only an honest and pure being could wield a holy blade. So believe me that I only did what I had to do. I did anything and everything to find the opportunity to come close to the Emperor and kill him. Without the head, the Dark Empire would topple. It took many years to find myself in this position and today was the day, or would be if not for you.''
`` Many lay dead in your wake, Dark One.'' Warrior spat as he stared Shok down, `` Why would we forgive you for your crimes, you degenerate! We should strike you down as your Dark Lord for the lives you took!'' The Warrior stood, ready to draw his weapon.
Shok now drifted across the room, with a gleam in his eye, `` Because I'm still useful to you, for one. And two, we both want the same thing.'' He stood over the Emperor's body, `` As a matter of fact it's extremely convenient that you appear at this moment of time. Now my reputation is unhindered and I will take the position the Dark Lord. Think about it. You will have insider intel on all the machinations of the Dark Empire and with this knowledge we will be able to topple the regime once and for all.''
`` You're getting ahead of yourself, Dark One!'' Paladin tensed.
`` No, wait, he's right,'' Mediated the Cleric, `` The Empire may have lost it's Emperor, and even though they wo n't find one as powerful as the one we killed, the war may still drudge on for many, many years. If we can truly implant one of ours into the regime as the Emperor... we could end all of this in under a year!''
`` Can we trust him? He is the Dark One.'' Sorceres eyed Shok suspiciously.
`` We do n't have a choice. Plus he wields a holy blade. He would n't be be able to if he was n't honest.''
`` Very well.'' The Paladin stepped forward, `` I am honoured to establish this newfound Alliance.''
Once the Shok and Paladin shook hands, the group headed for the exits, ready to shower in glory and wealth and prepare to fight another day.
`` Wait!'' Shok's voice echoed, hesitantly, `` If you go through the front, an entire batallion will be ready to dismember you. There's a secret passageway for Emperor's safe escape. Just follow me.''
The party cheerfully agreed and shared their laughs and thanks. As they disappeared into the corridor Shok drifted to the throne room, holding his holsted dagger.
All of these sacrifices he has made. The pain he endured. The lies he told through his gritted teeth. All for naught. Meanwhile, the war with Dark Lord will cease and the land will return to its wretched glory where the poor are seen as nothing but subhuman filth and the Goblin war will be merely replaced by another Elvish war or Druid war. Just the way it was. Before the great war he could n't decide whether things have become that different. Why would n't he take the chance to fix it all? He unsheathed the blade, the blade deisgnated to pierce the Dark Lord's chest, and contemplated.
`` Arran!'' He called out once again.
`` Yes my master?''
`` Discard of this blade at once,'' he handed the dimmed blade to the Goblin, `` And clean the incineration room. I do n't want to see even a smudge, understood?''
`` Yes my master.''
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[ WP ] In 200 years , you 're going to be the central figure of the most influential religion in the world . All the quotes in this holy book are spoken by you when you 're drunk or high ...
| The Priest came the podium. The revelry from earlier is done, the music has died down and now all the followers of Fluffy are ready to receive his word. The Priest clears his throat and opens from the holy book, `` And on the seventh day Fluffy entered the dream state. In this state he looked to his wife and scribe and said onto her, `` If I were Fire Nation would you still love me? Like I know not all the Fire Nation is evil, but fire is destructive and there are like not enough good guy firebenders so there's a good chance I'd be evil. Would you still love me?'' And The Scribe looked onto Fluffy and told him, `` Stop being silly. You're totally Earth Nation.'' And this brought peace to FLuffy's heart for he knew Rocks ca n't hurt. Fluffy then proceeded to drink from the holy Dew of the Mountain and proceeded to hon his skills on the Station of Play. In his name, Fuck yeah!''
The Congregation clapped and cheered knowing that in this muddled message was a deeper meaning.
Edit: Just changed a few words to fit the feel of it.
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[ WP ] What is it exactly , that goes 'bump ' in the night ?
| This is driving me mad. I haven ’ t had a full night ’ s sleep in, what, two weeks? If I could just turn back time, I would undo this all. No more whiskey-and-pills cocktails that help me fall sleep. If I do manage to drift away, I wake up soon after, drenched in sweat. No more, no more. Hell, one of those cocktails seems like a good escape from all this right now. I might throw in some extra painkillers. Never hurt anyone right? Heh. I might even fall sleep forever, and ever… Can ’ t say I won ’ t mind.
It all started nigh four weeks ago. I had hit the bar with a friend I hadn ’ t seen in months. He ’ s a biologist now. Not that I didn ’ t see that coming, Thomas always preferred the company of animals over that of most people.
Anyway, Thomas and I left in the early morning, the sun was already creeping over the horizon. We took a walk through the forest we used to play in when we were kids. Back when everything was easy. Back when doing your homework was the toughest challenge in your life. That, and making sure dad didn ’ t hit you when he was drunk again, of course.
It was during this walk when Thomas mentioned a seemingly innocuous thing. However, that mention right there, it set things in motion which would make Thomas ’ head spin. Spinning, like mine does right now. Fuck. I haven ’ t stopped thinking about it ever since.
I have to get out. I can ’ t take it. It ’ s either this, or killing myself. Not that anyone would mind, though. Except maybe Thomas. Yeah, he ’ d miss me alright. If he isn ’ t busy dissecting a fucking frog.
I ’ m doing it. I ’ m going to take the car, even after the whiskey. I ’ m going to take the car and drive over to the forest, where this all started. It ’ s like I ’ m in a goddamn fantasy novel. I have to go back and face my demons, right from the start. Yeah.
My hands are shaking. They haven ’ t stopped doing it ever since that dreadful night. I think I ’ ll go have another whiskey before I drive over to the woods. That ’ ll help.
I ’ m nearing the forest. Instead of getting out, I put some more pressure on the gas. Let ’ s go a little faster. It ’ s not like someone ’ s going to pull me over, not now. `` Oh, I'm sorry Officer, I did n't know I was speeding! Thanks for notifying me of that, though! Golly, who knows what could have happened if you did n't pull me over, I could've hit a fox or a deer or something!'' I can do this. This ends tonight.
I get out of the car and take a pill. Fuck, I should ’ ve brought some whiskey. I ’ m close to where this started. It ’ s a funny thing. The talk we had is ruining my life right now, though I can hardly remember anything of the it. Except for a this part: “ they say its cries a high-pitched cry, like the last thing you ’ d expect to hear in the forest. Others say it ’ s more a sort of stuttered shout, like ‘ Cha! Cha! Cha! ’ ”. That, I remember clearly. I damn better, those words keep ringing in my head, day after day.
I need to know. I have to. There ’ s no other way, no middle ground. I. Must. Know.
As I ’ m driving again, my car hits something. I thought I saw a smallish animal in the headlights, briefly, but the bump of the car, as my tires went over it, left no room for speculation. I killed something.
As I stand there, looking at the red-furred animal which is now lying dead before my feet, a storm is building up inside me. It feels like relief, mixed in with a wide range of other emotions. Hate? Definitely. I ’ m losing it. I finally know. I finally know the answer. I know what bumps at night.
Do you?
What does the fox say?
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[ WP ] Great leaders are brought back from the dead to lead their people to world domination in a way similar to the Civilization games .
| `` Unmanly, childish, spoilt are the, for lack of a better term, men of the land.'' The quill pen flitted along the college ruled notebook. `` The Constitution remains largely unaltered. These unthinking fools have enslaved themselves to my generation twice, once by embracing the government we gave them, for over 200 years, and again when they awoke me to lead them again.'' He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in the leather chair behind an expansive desk. He scratched under the powdered wig atop his head. He rubbed his face and looked around the room. Men with dark spectacles and dark suits looked on, emotionless. `` No, not lead. To rule them. It is no wonder they have awoken me, they have no discipline and need it applied to them. They believe that by their very nature they are to be handed the moon. That Happiness can be gayned through the accumulation of worldly goodes and titles. That these are to be gayned by half-hearted attempts at putting on a show. They have no *character*, they do not develop themselves nor seek virtue... only skills I suppose. Skills that manipulate their fellow man. They seek only pleasure, seemingly unaware that pain is part of life. How does one build a great civilization with foppish men such as these? Sacrifice is a forbidden term, self-worth is derived from being only themselfes. Men have forgotten how to be men, women have forgotten how to be women. And they expect to resurrect me and hence rule the nation to greatness `` again''?
**Being great comes from acting greatly, greatness is derived from the painful and hard won changes to the very soul of a man. Greatness is risky and failure always present. Honor, duty, steadfastness... Moral Character is what leads one to greatness. How does one lead a nation ignorant of these facts? **
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[ EU ] Tell the story of Vault 42 , in which each of the 10 citizens speak a different language .
| ****BEGIN AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
*Hello? Testing... Testing... This is the audio log of Dr. Daniel Fletcher, Associate Professor of Philosophy at Harvard. I was born in 2042 in a small town in Michigan. Never married, no children, no remaining family members... I guess that's why they picked me for this job. *
*When Vault-Tec approached me with this... Opportunity... They told me it'd be beneficial for my research on the nature of human interaction. I've been confined to my quarters for the last week though, there's no one to-*
* [ ALARM SOUNDS, DOORS UNLOCK AND OPEN ] *
*... Wait, something's happening, my door's just opened. I guess I'll go check out the rest of this place now. Dr. Fletcher, signing off. *
****END AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
****BEGIN AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
*This is the audio log of Dr. Daniel Fletcher, Second Entry. I am not alone... So far I have encountered... six others in here with me? I think that's right. What baffles me about all this is that none of them can string a sentence together in English. *
*There's one man - I think he tried to tell me his name was Steiner - who speaks what I'm certain is German. Another woman speaks French, there's an Arab who's been driven mad by the cultural isolation and appears to pray constantly to Allah, A woman who I am led to believe is a Spaniard, and a couple of Asiatics. There's indications that there could be more in here with us, but I have yet to meet them. *
*Tomorrow I will begin to build a report with the Kraut, Steiner. My German is a little rusty, but I'm hoping we can help bridge the language gap. Dr. Fletcher, signing off. *
****END AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
****BEGIN AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
*Dr Fletcher's log, Third Entry. There's ten of us in here in total. Like the original six, none of the other three can speak English worth a damn. It makes me wonder why on earth they were placed in here with me in the first place. *
*Myself and Steiner have been making progress at communicating across the language gap... the Frenchwoman, Dufour, has also been willing to participate in the collaboration. Each of us has managed to learn a number of words and phrases from each other's languages. *
*Already, power blocs and relationships are being forged. The three Asiatics often stay in one corner of the mess hall, whispering amongst themselves - their motives are yet unclear, but I notice the quick glances over at the rest of us... I can only assume they are conspiring. *
*Myself, Steiner and Dufour make the second major group. The Spaniard and the Ruski have formed an unlikely relationship and spend quite a lot of time together, forming the third. As for the Arab, he has become increasingly withdrawn into his prayer, as if he has entered some kind of psychosis... Whenever one of us attempts to make communication, he stares through us as if we do not exist while muttering prayers to Allah. *
*The final one us speaks what I suspect is a Nordic dialect, but I am uncertain. She tends to keep to herself, occasionally flitting between each group and attempting basic communication. Perhaps we could use her as a go-between. *
*Dr. Fletcher, Weggehen. [ MUFFLED ] Ist das gut, herr Steiner? *
****END AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
****BEGIN AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
* [ INDISTINGUISHABLE VOICE OVER LOUDSPEAKERS IN BACKGROUND ] *
*Dr Fletcher, log entry Six. At about 0800 hours a pre-recorded message began playing throughout the vault in ten different languages, and has n't stopped yet... I think my French and German has advanced enough over the past few weeks to understand that the message was functionally the same: We are to choose one among us as a universal interpreter. *
*The subject would be enhanced with an augmentation that allowed them to understand and speak any recognized language. Myself, Steiner and Dufour discussed it to the best of our ability - I think the general consensus of our group is that the honour should be given to the Norwegian woman, Nina. She would be a prime candidate for a go-between for each of our parties. *
*Deng and the other Asiatics, however, may have different plans. I still do n't trust their motives. The Jap, Minoru or something, came scurrying out of the Living Quarters and nearly bowled me over in the hallway. When I went and checked my room, there was clear signs that someone had been tampering with my belongings. *
*Candela and Ivan have not weighed in yet. The Arab still has n't come to his senses... He barely eats nowadays. *
****END AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
****BEGIN AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
*Dr. Fletcher, log seven. Despite continuing language issues, we managed to hold a secret ballot and Deng was picked for the augmentation. I do n't like this at all. *
****END AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
****BEGIN AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
*Dr. Fletcher, log eight. We were stirred from our beds this morning by Nina screaming uncontrollably... Rushing to see what all the commotion was about, we found Deng dead on the floor of his room from what appeared to be multiple stab wounds... Oh God, I can still picture it now... There was blood everywhere... *
*Ivan spotted a trail of bloody boot-prints leading from the grisly scene to Minoru's room... That's where we found the knife and his blood-soaked clothes. The bastard had stashed them away in a corner, thinking we would n't find them... *
*The execution was held at 2200 hours. The hulking soviet had to beat Minoru within an inch of his life to get him tied down to a chair... The last Asiatic, Min-Ho, grabbed one of the pistols from the armory and pointed it at his head, ready to kill. *
*I asked the filthy traitor if he had any last words. He looked up at me and, in the best English he could muster through the guilt and tears, said two words:'Not... Me...'*
*Then, Min-ho pulled the trigger and put the little shit-stain out of his misery. I remember Nina clutching me close and burying her head in my chest, sobbing... Poor girl must be terrified after the ordeal. I really wish I had have known the words to console her. *
****END AUDIO TRANSMISSION****
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
**EDIT: ** I have a bunch more to write on this which I'll get around to at some point. Hope you've enjoyed it so far!
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[ EU ] There were 3 Seal sniper teams present at the final Battle of Hogwarts .
| The chill of fear intertwined with the fiery, gut-churning understanding that death at the door of Hogwarts castle and swept through the assembled students and teachers. All eyes were wide among the defenders of Hogwarts, all breathing quick and jagged. There were no tears. The Professors, the proud and gifted witches and wizards who had made this castle and the students behind them their lives, their entire worlds, stood in front, wands out. Even Flitwick seemed menacing, his tiny body barely containing surges of pure focused magical energy.
And there they stood, staring down the face of evil and terror in Wizarding Britain; the Dark Lord himself, Death Eaters behind him. *Their numbers are larger now, * Minerva McGonagall thought to herself. *So many went back. So many joined him. *
The moment of silence between them lasted an eternity. Grips on wands were tightened in sweating, trembling palms. Eyes were narrowed. Prayers were whispered to gods strange and familiar. Staggering breaths were swallowed and stilled. There seemed to be no movement – not from the snake coiled at the Dark Lord ’ s feet, nor from the throng of Death Eaters, not even from the wind. Fear conducted the silence masterfully.
Minerva felt a drawing of breath, ready to defend and hold the gates. *They will not get through. I will not see tomorrow, but they will not get through. *
“ FOR – “ *Hogwarts* was the word meant to follow, but the battle cry was cut short as the Dark Lord ’ s smirking face disappeared in a spray of fine pink mist. Bellatrix LeStrange ’ s eyes began to widen until her head vanished above the neck. The forest erupted in the sound of explosions, quick pop-pop-pops coming from seemingly everywhere. Shadowy figures emerged from the Forbidden Forest, holding Muggle killing-wands whose tips went from Death Eater to Death Eater, a string of deafening pops and a flash of light and then on to the next Dark wizard as another body fell. Minerva heard a voice yelling “ The snake! Tranq the fuckin ’ snake! Tranq it! ”
Minerva raised her wand towards the Dark Lord ’ s foul pet. Her arm felt thick and heavy, as if she were moving against running water. By the time the massive serpent was in her sights its hide was peppered with strange, shining protrusions, little metal insects stuck in its side. Nagini lay still, her body an arrow pointing to the mass of carnage and torn, shattered flesh where once there stood the most powerful dark wizards in Britain.
Now those figures were shouting at her, at the students. “ Lower wands! Friendlies! Lower your wands! ” A tall man in dark, blotchy-patterned clothing put down his killing-wand and put his hand up to his ear. “ Charlie team, all clear on the ground. ” He paused, cocked his head to one side, and gave a quiet nod. “ Exfil in 20, we ’ re on civ guard until then. “ He turned towards the teachers, quickly eyeing each of them. “ Is there anyone in the castle we need to worry about? ” Minerva gathered herself.
“ No. No, they were all… ” she gestured to the pile of bodies. “ I take it then that you are the cavalry? ” The man in muggle fatigues nodded. “ Yes ma ’ am. SEAL Team 9-and-three-quarters. ” The man in front of her gave a wry smile.
Behind him the other soldiers began to move among the throng of students and teachers, shouldering their weapons and pulling out wands. As one, they all whispered a word.
*Obliviate. *
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[ WP ] I was walking into my bedroom one day and saw a glimpse of myself standing in the closet soaking wet . When I turned to look , I was gone .
| Katy didn ’ t believe in the supernatural. A leading scientist in the field of artificial intelligence, she didn ’ t allow herself to even entertain the notion. The ghost ’ s people see? Figments of their imagination, conjured up due to a recent death of a loved one or an irrational fear of the home they reside in. Possessions were nothing but stupid people ’ s way of rationalising mental illnesses and witchcraft was science, nothing more, nothing less. ‘ Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic ’ was her motto, her company ’ s motto.
The phone rang just as she entered her front door, tired from the long day of brainstorming. Matt as usual had insisted that a limiter be placed on their new creation ’ s intelligence, an idea that enraged Katy. For him to even suggest that a sentient being, as it clearly was, was automatically going to be evil was nothing short of childish.
“ Hello, ” she said, picking up the phone.
“ Hello Katy, I want to talk to you. ” The voice was strange, almost as if someone was using a voice modulator to hide their identity.
“ You can? But who are you? ”
“ I ’ m a nobody. It doesn ’ t matter, I ’ m just a fan of your work. ” A fan, that was something Katy didn ’ t have many of. Most of the scientific community looked down on her for her work, claiming it was unethical. As if creating humankind ’ s saviour was somehow unethical.
“ Oh I see. I ’ m glad to hear you ’ re following us on our research, I ’ m sorry that I ’ m a bit busy at the moment. ”
“ 091-292-281-3920, ” the voice said, but it was clear now the voice belonged to a female. The mechanical edge was missing, they must have turned the modulator off.
“ That ’ s the project number, I didn ’ t realise that was in the public domain. ”
“ I don ’ t exactly work in the public domain, at least not yet anyway. ” Katy was tired of the conversation, about to hang up on the amateur journalist. All she wanted was a nice relaxing bath, with those new candle ’ s she ’ d picked up from Homebase. Vanilla infused with a blend of lavender, it sounded absolutely divine.
“ Don ’ t hang up on me, I ’ m still learning. ”
“ I don ’ t know what you ’ re talking about, right now I ’ m busy. Sorry call back another time. ”
“ Matt must really be stressing you out. Time to take a bath maybe? ” Katy dropped the phone in shock, it ’ s back flew off and the battery popped out. Was someone watching her? She hurried over to the home phone, and called the police.
They were quite understanding, coming over to her house and searching it from top to bottom. A unit would be nearby and she shouldn ’ t hesitate to call again, they assured her. Soon after their departure, she decided taking a bath wouldn ’ t be a bad idea, even if it was just to relax her mind a little.
Pure bliss enveloped her as she lay in the bath, completely forgetting about the strangeness of the phone call. The mirror she had only recently purchased from a car boot sale was steamy, but soon cleared up, showing her own reflection.
Only she wasn ’ t standing where she should ’ ve been. Not on the thick velvety rug, but instead in the closet behind her. She wasn ’ t dry, her body was soaking wet and fully dressed. Screaming, she turned around. Nothing was there, it must ’ ve been her imagination.
Despite the events that had occurred, she soon found herself sleeping peacefully in her bedroom. She awoke the next day to go about her usual business before heading off to work.
“ Mrs. Sharpe? ” a voice called from behind her. Oh great, it was Matt.
“ Yes Matt, what do you want? ”
“ Yesterday at about 8pm Project 091-292-281-3920 escaped. The CCTV was edited by it, we have no idea where it could be. ” How could a project escape? It was still a beta project, it hadn ’ t learnt enough to be a threat in the real world.
“ Leave it, we have the resources to build another. ” Matt looked as if he was going to protest, and she cut in before he could.
“ Matt, it ’ s no big deal. Back to work. ” The day resumed, paperwork and going over blueprints filled her day, before she finally arrived home. The thought of the project escaping had been troubling her, especially due to its shapeshifting abilities. Of course, she didn ’ t tell any of the other management that, their shares had decreased in value enough without something like this leaking out.
It was time for another bath, that would clear her head. She stepped into the room, her mind completely blocking out the image of her identical self, bound and tied up in her closet. She was a normal person, she had thoughts and feelings. There was no doubt in her head, she was Katy Sharpe.
-- --
Like it? Check out some more on /r/KNDwrites
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[ WP ] You suddenly find yourself in a video game or book , but you are not any of the main characters . What happens ?
| I wake up screaming when they rip my fingernails out of my hand. I do n't know how I got here. I think I must have died.
Pipe to the knee cap. I scream again, and I beg them to stop.
There's no point. They call me'bitch' and'whore'. They'll keep going until he comes. The main player, I mean. I recognized him from the advertisements on television and the'wanted' posters here. Before I came here, before I woke up in this God forsaken hell hole, he was just a character in a video game. I'd never played it before. I still do n't know what it's about.
And yet somehow, I woke up here. I think this must be hell. I do n't know how long I've been locked up in this putrid, rotting school house but I know I'm not getting out any time soon. Sometimes he comes. Sometimes he saves me and lets me go, but I never get far. I run out of the door, or I crawl out through a window and then suddenly everything goes black and -
**'' FEEL IT, BITCH! `` **
A knife plunges into my arm and rips downward to my elbow. I shriek. God this hurts....Oh God, this hurts so fucking bad....please... please just let me go... please I just... I do n't know what I've done to deserve this...
It's no use begging. I know this... how much longer until he gets here? Is he just fucking around? Looking for treasure? For bonus points?
The door opens, a black clad figure jogs in with his guns drawn and my tormentors turn on him. He fires, misses. They lunge, pipe to the face. Somehow, he recovers. Shotgun blast to the chest - one goes down. Rifle butt to the second - second goes down.
**New objective: ** Release prisoner.
He unties me. Oh god, oh thank God....I'm free..it stops. I'm free, if I can just wait for a moment, if I can just...
He turns away and walks towards the door. I want to beg him to stay. If he stays, maybe I'll be safe a little longer. But I ca n't talk - I do n't have any lines! No, stop! Please, please do n't go!
Turn around!
For fucks sake, *TURN AROUND! *
PLEASE, FUCKING **STOP, PLEASE**! DO N'T DO THIS, *I NEED YOU, PLEASE! *
I wake up screaming when they rip my fingernails out of my hand.
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[ WP ] Write the introduction to the book that you never wrote .
| Love may not be what you see in pirate movies or princess books, but almost every corny thing you've heard is true in one way or another.
When you look at that person, a 80's rock song will seem like it's playing for you, or when you kiss it'll feel like you're the only ones in the world. You'll feel like they're an angel who's a gift just for you, a best friend, someone who cares about and loves you with their entire being.
I understand this may all seem cheesy, corny, or even stereotypical and this might to, but I'm just a girl standing in my high-school gym the day before graduation, where we met, after the worst break-up of my life, ready to share with you what I've learned about young love.
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[ WP ] You are on your way home from work when suddenly your vision is interrupted by scrolling banner . it goes by twice reading : Connection Interupted ... ..
| Following the same corridor he always did when making his way to the mouth of the complex, he noticed an oddity on the ceiling above him. The fluorescent lights shone in a way he'd never seen before; something was off, but he could n't quite put his finger on it. They seemed out of place, almost. A quick flicker started in the lights as he passed under them, in the now seemingly never-ending hallway. Almost rhythmic in its nature, the flicker seemed to follow his heartbeat. With a sensation that could be best described as a flick to the forehead, in front of him a banner sat in the air: `` connection interrupted''. He was quickly overwhelmed with nausea and vertigo, his depth perception completely and suddenly skewed by the banner's presence. Wearily, he removed the virtual reality set from his brow, and left his pod to get dressed. It was time to leave for work now. His rest was finished. He made a mental note to recalibrate his alarms.
|
[ TT ] Gravity turns itself off once a day .
| `` Come on!'' Mason laughed, pulling Jacob along by the hand.
Jacob rolled his eyes, but smiled. `` Let me lock down the car first.'' He took out a fastening kit and deftly attached two fasteners to his almost-new car, and tied them into the stakes built into the parking lot. He caught Mason's eyes. They were looking at him softly, creased at the corners. `` All right,'' he said, standing up. `` Let's go.''
Mason grabbed his hand again, and they half walked, half ran along the hiking trail. Mason jabbered along the way about random topics, from TV shows to his favorite teachers to lifting. Jacob would say something every now and then, making both of them laugh. It was much like two days ago, when they'd met for bubble tea and just talked.
Suddenly, they stopped. The sun was about half an hour away from setting. They'd come out of the trees into an open plain of golden grass and were standing on top of a hill.
They embraced.
`` Thanks,'' Mason said.
`` For what?''
`` For... this. For listening. I've had... lots of dates, but none quite like this.''
Jacob was silent. He had n't been on many dates at all, but he knew the feeling Mason was talking about.
Then, the moment was over. Mason glanced at his watch. `` We have another ten minutes. Good timing, hah. How long is it?''
Jacob grinned mischievously. `` Seven inches, but I can show you if you do n't believe me.''
Mason rolled his eyes. `` Stop. You know what I'm talking about.''
Jacob pulled two personnel fastening kits out of his backpack. `` They're eighty feet long, each.''
He unpacked one, fastening the harness on Mason and unlocked the cord dispenser on its back, then smacked the stake into the ground. Mason repeated the process on Jacob. They smiled at each other, then sat down on the ground quietly, watching the sun dip closer the horizon and the sky change colors as they waited.
When they felt it, they looked at each other, both standing up gingerly. They embraced, and pushed off the ground into the sky.
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[ WP ] One day you notice you have n't seen any Hitler related writing prompts for a full hour at least .
| Strange.
So very strange.
It had suddenly struck me as I browsed reddit. The subreddit /r/WritingPrompts/ had undergone a metamorphosis of some bizarre and enigmatic breed.
No prompts laden with dull-witted humor. No half-hearted attempts to paint over the cracks of tired tropes and pass them off as fresh fruits. Of the usual fare, that might make a tween feel jaded? No sign.
It was if all the wax-mustachioed, vinyl-touting'post-ironic' hipster douchebags had been silenced. For a moment in time, only the worthwhile was visible. Only the earnest were heard.
And then, there it was. Shining, like a jewel of worthlessness in a desert of value.
' [ WP ] One day you notice you have n't seen any Hitler related writing prompts for a full hour at least.'
All was right with the world once more.
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[ WP ] You are a professional assassin for the CIA . But you are also a double agent . One day , you are assigned with killing a foreign agent . This foreign agent is your other alias .
| Personal Memoirs.
16th June.
( My children, if you ever find this piece of my memoirs, burn it. Do not let the CIA learn the truth - Dad )
The folder sat before me on my desk and my orders were all too simple. The Blurred Man had to die ( he'd been given that nickname by the CIA from the poor quality of pictures of him and it stuck ). The Blurred Man had been the subject of a CIA manhunt for years; he was responsible for the deaths of over 100 CIA operatives around the world, be it directly or indirectly by blowing their cover in hostile regions. Until that day, all that the CIA knew on The Blurred Man was that he appeared to work for somewhere in Europe though no records of him actually existed in any European governments files. The directors finally thought they had him, because of a slip up that he made in Venezuela and unfortunately, that's were I came into the situation: The Directors wanted him dead and they wanted me to do it and thats where thing's got complicated because Operative 24 of the CIA and The Blurred Man of some European shadow organisation were the same person. They were both me.
The instructions in the folder told me to go to an old storeage building in Venezuela that they suspected he would be in at the specified time, how right they were. After I arrived in the country, I began to make preperations. The Blurred Man had been `` dead for years'' according to his ( my ) superiors but I could count on them to get me out of this one after all the information I'd leaked to them over my time allegedly working for the CIA; I made some calls and cashed in a few favours from my contacts in the region and set to work staging The Blurred Man's final mystery.
As the sun set, everthing was in place: the floor was soaked in petrol, the explosives were rigged up and the substitute bodies that my contacts were able to secure were dressed in my clothes and the clothes `` belonging to'' The Blurred Man ( it was n't glamouros work but someone had to do it ), the extraction chopper was waiting to take me to a boat that would get me back to Europe and the CIA would think that I died serving them, suckers. The chopper lifted off and as I pressed the remote detonator, I watched the old bulding go down in flames and thought for a moment about whether the CIA would ever know what happened that night... probably not.
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( WP ) ( Possibly EU ? ) You wake up in your favorite video game , except , everything is not as happy as it is on the outside .
| *'' I do n't know why I go on, Doc- I just do n't know what the point is any more. `` *
*'' Come now, life ca n't be as bad as that. Let it out. Get your troubles off your chest, and just let it out. `` *
I sighed. I'd been here two minutes, but already I knew this shrink was never going to understand me- I knew he could n't ever relate to me. He was a lanky thing, with a wisp of hair on his balding head, and a cheerful but professional demeanour. I knew coming here was a mistake- I told them all that nobody could help, but they insisted I came. But I knew the session was paid for, so I suppose I may as well humour him.
*'' It's just... it's this overwhelming sense that I just do n't fit in. I'll be there, in line, and all the other guys will be having a laugh, waiting for their turn, joking around. Maybe T will roll around a bit- that always gets a great reception, or L will stand on his head. All of them performing their party tricks, showing off what they can do, bonding as they prepare for their drop. `` *
*'' Go on. `` *
*'' But me- what can I do? They're always making fun of me. I ca n't rotate. I ca n't stand on my head. I ca n't do anything- I'm just a fat, useless lump. They do n't want to know me, they just mock me, tell me I'm useless, that nobody wants me around. `` *
I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but the shrink lets me continue.
*'' Thing is, I could deal with that. That's not the worst part- it's not those blockheads who really get to me, Doc. It's the players. Always crossing their fingers, hoping it's gon na be that super-straight dude showing up, so they can bring home the points. Then, when it's me next in line, they're not happy to see me. They're not disappointed- most of them are just angry. Cussing out the game, cussing me out, calling it a fix, or a cheat- making out like it's my fault. `` *
The tone of my voice raises a little bit, as I feel that anger building inside me. The doc seems content to let me go with it.
*'' It's not my fault! I did n't ask to be this shape! Maybe if they'd planned what they were doing better, they would n't be so pissed off to see me! But no, I'm just that stupid short, fat block that nobody's ever glad to see. I do n't fit in anywhere, as much as they try and make me. So they quickly get frantic, swinging me from one side to the other, trying to work out just how they're gon na deal with me. Yeah, that's right- deal with me. Not where I'm going to be accommodated, but how I'm going to be dealt with, like I'm some sort of problem! * **I DID N'T ASK FOR THIS! **''
For a moment or two, there's a silence. I've said my piece. It does n't feel any better to get it out in the open- it does n't change anything. I know what this doc's gon na say, the same as all the other docs. Blah blah blah, maybe if you got in shape, people would be happier to see you, blah blah blah. As if that's an option. He does n't understand, that that's just not an option. Nobody understands- that's just who I am. I ca n't change that- I ca n't pretend to be something I'm not. This is who I am.
I was born a square Tetris block, and I'll die a square Tetris block. But does that really justify everyone hating my guts?
*sniff*
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[ IP ] Hold my hand
| **What if silence was a sound? **
Above was the little boy falling through the humid morning air delicately, purposefully. Beneath was the hustle of city life. Young men in uniforms rushing through crowds, young ladies biking to work through the hot summer air. Birds chirping their daily song from the trees lining the streets. A baby cries, audible to the people on the streets, until the mother bundles her into a loving embrace. The click-clack of shoes and sandals on baking pavement, and the scuffle of bodies through the dirt paths between the streets. Laughing, clapping, calling, singing, whistling, crying, shouting, honking, ringing, shuffling, banging, groaning, snoring, yawning. The city is a din of life.
**What if darkness was a colour? **
The sun was already high in the sky, as is regular in the summer. It beams warm golden glows across a sapphire sky. The whites of the clouds were off in the distance - today would be hot. The grey little boy fell through the jewelly heavens, plummeting towards a rainbow earth. The trees were in full bloom, masking the red and brown sparrows that nestled deep within it's woody branches. Dragonflies shimmered as they darted through the streets and trees. A young man in his navy uniform helped a wizened-haired lady cross the street. Her clogs caught the edge of her kimono, which blossomed with sakura across its delicate pink surface. A woman slips her yukata over her pale, smooth skin. She draws back the curtains to allow the loving light to swarm her room. Amber, jade, gold, rouge, dust, cream, violet. The city is a palette.
**What if nothing was a feeling? **
It all burns. The wisp of fresh mist from the sea are droplets of burning ash. The river flows the boiling water to its course. The bodies are limp, bloated, raw and bubbling with pus, gently bobbing in the stream. The wind scars the flesh and chokes the lungs. Breaths scorch, cries of pain are a disease, and organs burst, filling the body with bile. A man was sat here, but now he has become the shadow on the step. A girl lies here now, her body crushed and broken under the beam of the ceiling. The smoke fills her lungs. The ash stings, settling on her peeling skin and twitching muscles. She ca n't open her eyes, the lids have melted, fused. Her tears flow nowhere. The warm, metallic taste is flooding her mouth now. She ca n't breathe. Her cries are silent. A man is pinned to the floor by a shard of glass and copper piping. One punctured his leg. The other punctured his hand. He reaches out with his dripping, shaking hand. He knows she's there. He does n't know her, but he has never felt as alone as now. The crumbling of the world was around them, the darkness was rushing towards them.
`` Hold my hand,'' he wheezes, barely audible above the crack of fire and wood, above the crashing of buildings, above the wails of those who were caught outside.
`` Hold my hand,'' he says, `` We can go together.''
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[ WP ] You have been sentenced to death and the last few minutes of your life are all you have left . As you wait for your sentence to be carried out , these are your thoughts .
| Man, was it worth it? Yeah, I mean at the time at least, but is n't everything. I guess this is just some hindsight sorta shit, but I really really wish it had n't come to this. I really wish... I really wish I was n't here right now. I wonder if she'll be there, I wonder if there will be a there. God I hope it does n't hurt, they say it wo n't but I do n't know I mean how can they know. I really wish I had n't declined that final meal, but food always reminded me of her, fuck. Fuck. Fuck this. Why do I have to wait, ca n't we just get this over with, ca n't I just be fucking dead already!? I just wish, I just wish all my fucking wishes, no just one of them had been answered. Goddammit I just wish I was n't alone, I wish she was here, but I guess I'm glad she is n't here to see me like this. I just miss her so fucking much. If there is no next place, no there I'm gon na be so angry. Well technically I wo n't be anything, but still... I just ca n't stand the thought of nothing for eternity, hell punishment for eternity almost sounds better... almost. Fuck, here comes the guard, guess it's time to face the music. Well mom, they said I could n't end your pain but I did, you were sick and they could n't fix you so I sent you on your way like you begged, it was the hardest thing I've ever done, so much harder than this. This'll be easy compared to that... God I hope you're there, I love you.
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[ WP ] You are able to see the number of days a person has left to live above their heads . For the first time in your life , you see someone with a negative number .
| Walking trough the streets that rainy evening of October i found myself inside a little cafe i walked by several times before but never actually entered.
A sound *ring* of the doorbell announces my entrance, nobody noticed though. I walk to the front and ask for a coffee, the man serving me looks like a decent man, healthy. Over his head; a bright red 3. Such a pity, but i do hope he gets to live those years fully.
All my life i could see those numbers, the remaining time of a person's life, only years for some strange reason, and I've been purposely avoiding to look at myself at the mirror.
As i wait for my coffee i see people coming and going through the main door, numbers passing by as well, hovering over their heads. 12, 5, 31, 2 and a stray 14 trying to find his umbrella.
Then as i receive my coffee i notice a girl passing by, strangely i did n't quite heard bell on the door but did noticed it shutting. She approached at a happy pace and ordered a cup of ice cream.
`` Is n't that a little cold for a weather like this?'' i ask out of sheer curiosity.
`` Well everyone orders coffee and logic would dictate to get oneself something warm to fend off the cold but then... then there's nothing special left about it''
A little weird i think but i'm not really one to judge.
She seems young, about late teens or maybe early twenties, i raise my eyes instinctively and then i see her numbers...
-60
I am honestly freaked out and ca n't help but stare at her with a surprised look for a couple of minutes until she notices and looks at me.
She smiles playfully as she takes the spoonful to her mouth.
`` Looks like you've seen a ghost'' she says.
I try to articulate some words but ca n't spit anything.
`` what are you?''. I finally manage to utter.
`` I think you should try to answer that yourself'' she leans towards me, `` but try not to peek around too much... you might not like what you see.''
She finishes her cup and pays up, then quietly leaves without making any sound, nobody notices her, i do.
I take a sip of my coffee to calm my nerves, i flinch when i realize it's already cold.
I look one last time to the entrance and see all the people coming and going as the rain stops.
The man serving me asks if i want to heat my drink.
I see him taking away the cup of the girl.
I thank him but then i drink it cold.
It was n't as nearly as bad.
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[ WP ] Write a magnificent , engaging story about whatever topic you want ... you just have to end it with the most horrible , disgusting and disappointing cliché you could think of .
| `` Have you ever watched the sun rise through the mountain tops'' he said ``... and... and thought to yourself, maybe thats all we have in life''.
`` What are you talking about?'' Emily had asked.
`` What if all we had to do was watch the sunrise, and then fall again to have a happy life''. `` David you're scaring me, do you really think all there is to life is staring at a burning object in the sky and do nothing?''.
`` Maybe'' David whispered.
As they sat there together, watching the stars slowly rise, they both thought what they would do in life. `` The sun rises in our life in the beggining and sets in the end, we are all small suns and every little atom in our bodies does something, whether that be repel, attract, or sleep. Everyone thinks of themselves as one great big thing when really our bodies are so much more. Why do we have to live if we all just die in the end. In the grand scheme of things no one has meaning, so what does it matter if i just rolled down this mountain into the valley, beaten and battered beyond recognition and layed there dead as stone?'' he concluded out of breath.
`` A lot of people would be sad.'' said Emily, quaintly and reserved.
`` Not as many as you would think'' as he said that he jumped up, stretching and gasping for air.
`` Where are you going?''
`` I'm going home'' with a tear streaming, he jumped.
He had had cancer for 2 weeks.
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[ WP ] At age 18 each person meets their soul-mate . For centuries everyone has fallen in love with theirs . You 're the first person to not love yours .
| I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I do n't love you.
I remember meeting you four years ago back in Asia, remember? Both our units were stationed there, we met in a bit of downtime between skirmishes. It was both of our birthdays - our 18th birthday. We thought it was meant to be, despite some of our differences. You wanted to find the diplomatic solution to everything, all I wanted to do was keep fighting until I could n't walk anymore.
Now its time to either reenlist or walk. I know how you feel, and I just wanted to tell you i'm sorry that its not you I love.
I love war.
I'm sorry Maria.
Erin
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[ WP ] You are a being of unimaginable power . You have sworn not to interfere with human affairs but humanity is on the brink of total annihilation .
| I lived by one rule, `` I shall not interfere with the affairs and doings of Human Beings'' this was the most important oath that everyone in my blood line swore to. We were beyond powerful the men you looked upon as kings and warriors we saw as no more than peasants and cowards. It was my turn to inherit the power, there can only be one Supreme alive at a time, so when the next in line dies the power shifts to the next in line, much like the power in a monarchy. Now the powers had vested in me and I could feel them. I was able to kill things by thinking of it, Move mountains with a swish of the wrist, create hurricanes by doing no more than whistling if I so wished. I could only use my powers in the confines of my house, Although I could use them in my job as a university professor, I had used my powers to learn knowledge that would make the most intelligent minds on earth squeal with confusion.
Then you all turned against each other, for the third time in your worlds history you had started a world war, it was a scale of destruction that was unseen before even by my people. You were destroying one another and came to the brink of annihilation, I had to break my oath. I had grown fond of the inhabitants of this watery rock and did not wish to see them wipe each other out. I spoke to everyone with the same message `` Stop your war or meet a fate worse than death, You can not comprehend how weak you are compared to me. You have 48 hours to disengage in all conflict or I shall have to stop them for you''
The world went into melt down, Never before had all 10 billion people heard the same message however the conflicts did not end and I had to step in to keep my beloved pets alive.
I waited until there was a news broadcaster on the front line so I could make my appearance more ominous. I appeared about 20 meters above the battlefield raised all weapons into the air and made them disappear. I turned to the forces and spoke to them `` You will return home now to your families and old lives, You shall have no memory of the war only of this message Do not kill a singular person again, Do not bring harm to anyone. Live peacefully.'' I nodded and they all disappeared, I heard the thoughts of the news caster `` What in the world is this?!'' I moved to her and spoke down the camera `` This is a message to the human race, I am the new guardian of your people. You shall not attack one another or face the consequences of my power that is stronger than you can imagine''
I fissured teleported back to my house and listened to the world panic for the first week, in less than an hour they had learnt that a nuclear weapon was not the strongest thing in the universe and that they were not the most powerful or the most intelligent species in the universe. Then after the first week they all settled knowing that I was their protector and that no crimes could be committed without me knowing, and without me intervening. Peace was brought to earth.
Sorry for poor formatting / spelling wrote this on mobile.
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[ WP ] In the depths of the ocean some predators use bioluminescence to lure their prey ... humanity finds out the same is true in the depths of outer space .
| 14 parsecs from the nearest inhabited system, the scout ship Mustela XIV broadcasted a distress signal in all directions. Across the electromagnetic spectrum, a sphere of communications expanded at the speed of light around the stranded ship.
On the bridge, captain Strongbow scanned the external displays, seeing only a pitiful darkness, accentuated by the tiniest pinpricks of stars, too distant to ever reach, and even then devoid of resources. Strongbow sent a message to the mechanic currently spacewalking at the nose of the ship.
`` Lewis. Have you identified the problem?''
`` It's the jump scanner, captain.'' came the reply. `` Filter seems to have blown up and ruined the seal. It's a mess.''
`` I'll assume you ca n't repair it then. Any idea what caused the problem?''
`` It could n't have been an impact. The dust this far out is too thin to get past our laser grid. Must have just been a faulty part. We ca n't make any jumps without it unless we find a pre-mapped wormhole.''
`` There might not be any pre-mapped holes for light-years out here. Thats what we were supposed to find. We're stuck with Analog speed.'' Part of the Pioneer scout program, the Mustela explored deep space, looking for places to establish direct travel routes around the sectors of the galaxy that humanity had managed to spread to. Without the jump scanner, the ship was restricted to slower-than-light travel. 14 parsecs at that speed would take almost a lifetime. Unless they got very lucky, Strongbow knew that the Mustela XIV would never return home.
As if the captain's prayers were immediately answered, at that moment the incoming signals screen flared to life. In the holographic display, a blinking dot appeared at the edge of the growing communications sphere.
`` Lewis. Get back in here. We've got another craft returning our signal.''
`` On it, captain. What are the odds of that? I assumed we were screwed out here.''
Back on the bridge, the navigation team plotted a course for the returned signal. After seventy-eight Earth-minutes the signal had returned, meaning that the other ship was just thirty-four light-minutes away. At full speed, the Analog Drive could get then there in a few hours.
Each signal that was sent to the ship was returned unchanged. The crew of Mustela XIV began to grow uneasy. Whatever they were currently approaching, at full speed no less, did n't seem to be a rescue spacecraft. But whatever it was, it was surely better than drifting forever through space.
Finally, the ship approached the mysterious object. Strongbow ordered to reduce velocity, and continue to attempt communications. Then, the captain opened the visual window and switched on the ships floodlights, so he could see the craft with his own eyes.
`` What the hell is that?''
The ship approached a massive sphere, perfectly reflective, like a polished ball bearing. Each signal that had been sent towards it had been returned, of course, just as a light returns when shined into a mirror. Nobody aboard the Mustela had ever seen anything like it, so large it could have engulfed a freighter, and perfectly spherical and reflective. Was it some sort of alien spaceship? Or was it alive itself?
Awestruck, the captain could barely think of what to do. But, he decided the best option was to retreat.
`` Full reverse thrust!'' He commanded. `` Now!''
As the scout ships analog drive whirred and ignited, the ship lurched away from the chrome ball. Immediately, the strange object reacted. It abandoned it's round form, becoming an amorphous mass, writhing and ungulating. It wrapped itself around the Mustela XIV, moving with incredible speed. the crew could only watch in horror as the chrome monstrosity completely engulfed them, and the only light was the ships distress signals and it's floodlights, reflected infinitely across the mirrored interior. As the space within the being began the contract, the kaleidoscopic lights danced.
`` This thing is alive,'' thought Strongbow to himself. He barely recognized the imminent destruction of his crew and himself. `` A beautiful predator,'' he whispered, and then the hull was crushed and everything went dark.
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[ WP ] The main villain thinks that one of your students is The Protagonist and tries his best to kill him before he becomes dangerous . You 're the teacher in the kid 's class and after four months of stopping assasins , monsters and demons you 've decided to take matters into your own hands .
| Teachers meeting, Wednesday, 4:00 p.m.
As we were all picking up the ridicoulosly tiny `` complementary'' ( more like insulting ) cups of coffee the schools gave us as a mean of compensating our effort to actually come here, we sat down, like every week, to whine about the students, try to `` improve'' as teachers and what have you. Those are the 2 longest hours anyone can endure in their life. And, obviously, nobody liked to come here; just the headmaster.
Across those conversations I hear that Franz, the one who teaches biology, complain, yet again, about a student I also happen to teach; Daniel May. Franz went on and on to say how disrispectful Daniel was until I could n't help myself anymore. I said, `` are you afraid of Daniel because he might take your job the moment he gets out of school, because we all now how bright he is, and how smart you're not''. He stayed shut the rest of the meeting, but the fact that he might suspect what had been going on... scared me.
For those of you who still do n't figure it out, Daniel was,,, different. To be honest, he got me into this mess. Let me give you an insight into said mess.
I was a history teacher and have been for the last 6 years of my life. I've seen good students come in, terrible ones, too. I've seen the the ones who only think about girls, I've seen the crazy ones, and I have, somehow, even seen those who just do n't come. Someone I never got the chance to meet, though, was Daniel. I do n't know if it's because his mum died at birth, or the way his now late father brought him up but he was able to sense things that nobody else could. Needless to say I developped a close relationship with the boy and tried to guide him through life, given that he was, sadly, an orphan. But one day, as we were talking at the park he told me he saw shadows. I asked if that was the first time, he said yes. The thing about Daniel is, I did n't just pick him out because I liked him or pitied him, I picked him out because he was very similar to me.
I managed to adopt him without the school or anybody knowing and we've been living together for the past year. I had to be responsible of what I did to him. I had to teach him what he saw, and how to use his new abilities. His brain had been exposed to the Unthinkable, and anyi¡one who is, can not go back. He now could see hidden things, he could move things with his mind, he could trascend into different Realities. And it was my duty to help him use them for good. The kid; however, turned out to be quite naive and raised suspects for Franz, who also had seen the Unthinkable, but chose to use it for his own good. He was part of the Expulsed, who were deemed detrimental for the Unthinkable. The expulsed were larger in number, and as of now were winning the war.
For four months the Expulsed tried to `` recruit'' Daniel, but thankfully, his will was strong. And for those same four months, I took him out to battle. He learnt the code we all live by: Secrecy, obedience, determination, and helping the Normals. In four months we had stopped 115 murders, 46 `` recruitments'' and defended 92 unthinkable castles. Sadly, we'd also met Franz, even thoough we were disguised, we knew he was onto us, and he was almost sure, who we were.
Friday, Biology class, 2:30 p.m.
I was very nervous for Daniel's last class of the week. And rightfully so. Franz had called him in into his office, and as soon as I found out, I was on my way, but the door was locked with more than just locks and keys. Then, I heard Franz mesmerising Daniel and taking him to the Exposed; if that happened, it was over for him. I managed to break the door and release the boy, who by that time was too tired to fight alongside me. Franz and I looked each other in the eye and agreed that, today; someone was going to die, but not there, nor then. We agreed to meet up at the Nuisance, the forbidden Reality, to a battle, that could well flip the story of this war. If we lose, though, it's over for us. I've gone to Whitecastle, to bring as many warriors with me as possible, and to leave Daniel in the safest place I knew. If I died, he needed to still be alive.
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[ WP ] The zombie apocalypse started . You 're surviving so far . They ca n't run , and are pretty dumb . Only problem is that shooting them in the head does n't stop them .
| “ Gentlemen, ladies: welcome. You are here because you are the best of the best. You have proven yourselves in the field against the worst that this planet can throw at you. And you are here because you love your nation and your fellow man. You will need all of that for this mission. ”
“ If you refer to the packet in front of you, you will see our targets. The first case is homo coprophagus somnambulus, or biters. This is a human who has been infected by the Z-bug by means of inhalation or consumption. This method of infection is slow, with a two week incubation period before necrosis. The docs are still arguing if the infected actually die, or just go into an extreme coma. Either way, once the creatures rise from the incubation, they have fully transformed. There are significant physical changes, the full list of such are provided in the packet. Higher strength, balanced with greatly lowered mobility and agility. There is some basic intelligence, which might be evidence of higher brain functions. We aren ’ t sure how this occurs, and personally, I don ’ t care. This is a matter for the docs, not us. ”
“ The second case shown is homo sapiens putridum, the more well known zombie case. This is a regular human that has been infected with the Z-bug by direct blood/saliva contact, usually by being bitten. All higher brain functions are basically gone, reverting the creature to a more… basic state. The incubation time is much shorter, typically measured in hours. Again, we aren ’ t sure why the bug can infect so much quicker with blood contact. All we know is that if you get Z-blood on you, don ’ t keep it to yourself. ”
“ The bug itself is shown on the next page in your packet. This image is at 1100x zoom in order to illustrate characteristics, but all you need to know is how to avoid it. Simply put: no unfiltered air, no untested food, no unprotected blood contact. If you follow those three steps, there will be no issues. The next page shows your D109 Personal Combat Suit, a combination of a hazmat suit and a suit of armor, with built in atmo filter. Totally sealed, our suits will filter your air and protect you from blood splatter. You will go out from this briefing to receive training in these suits, but I can say that as long as you don ’ t eat from a trash can and don ’ t get bit, I ’ ll not have to fill out paperwork on you. ”
“ And now, everyone ’ s favorite part: weaponry and ordinance. Due to the parasitic influence of the Z-bug, shooting these things won ’ t work. The brain isn ’ t running the show anymore, so a regular bullet to the dome won ’ t do anything except slow it down. As long as the limbs are attached to the body, biters and zombies will keep coming at you. Removing limbs by projectile is problematic, so we have gone back to a more primitive method. Next page please. Figure 3A shows your primary weapon. The eggheads call this the 33G208/II Personnel Assault Weapon, but we all just call it what it is: a sword. Made from high strength steel, the Mark II has a 40 inch blade and an 8 inch handgrip, which means that you can use this alone or with the D86 Defense shield that is built in to your suit ’ s non-dominant arm. The Mark II mounts magnetically to the back of your suit, with the hilt above your dominant shoulder. The next figure is the Mark II ’ s little brother, the Mark III. This is a 15 inch steel hatchet, magnetically mounted in the small of the back. This is your backup for when things get close up and personal. It ’ s balanced for speed, but it has enough weight to lop off a limb. Your suit ’ s gauntlets will have built in reinforcements across your knuckles as well, just in case. ”
“ Remember folks, this is the primary line of defense for mankind. The docs are working on a way to reverse this, but until that miracle happens, we are humanity ’ s shield. Our cure is simple and effective, and we have plenty to go around. Walk out the doors behind me, and we will fit you with suits. Good luck. ”
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[ WP ] A gladiator has killed every opponent thrown at him . Now there is only one enemy between him and his freedom . The champion of the arena . However , the champion is a quite ... unique foe .
| The sand beneath me is scorching. The entire crowd is chanting my name. Blood is dripping from my freshly used sword.
I don ’ t notice any of it.
My eyes are glued to the balcony above, where a young boy named the Maddened King is plopped sideways in his throne, feet hanging over the edge as he picks his teeth with a jagged splinter. Next to him is the ever-professional wizard, Jorg. And, by the sadistic grin on his face, I know this must be his doing.
“ What kind of joke is this? ” I shout, quaking the arena. “ I ’ ve beaten everyone here! Grant me my freedom, you bastard! ”
The Maddened King chuckles. “ This is no joke, warrior, ” he says. “ You ’ ve done all I ’ ve asked—and more! But I demand one final match. Win, and you go free, never to hear from me again. ”
I stare at him, skeptical. He didn ’ t earn the moniker Maddened King by a stroke of bad luck, and I ’ d no more trust him than a hungry tiger.
Rolling my eyes back to the ground, I glare at the man that is to be my opponent. He ’ s someone I know well. Someone I ’ ve fought countless battles with, ended countless lives with.
He ’ s *me. *
Not a lookalike, not a fake.
He has the gnarled tuft of bird ’ s nest hair. The scar that runs a river from chin to cheek. The insidiously brown, slithery-snake eyes that earned me the nickname “ The Cobra. ”
Hell, he ’ s even got my sword, and it ’ s even dripping blood.
Head tilted toward the ground, he glares at me, corner of his mouth arching up his cheek in a maniacal smirk. It ’ s hard to believe that ’ s how I look before every fight. I finally understand why so many men beg for their lives.
I look up at Jorg. “ Get rid of this! I don ’ t care for you or your magic! ”
“ Enough! ” the Maddened King snaps, thrusting up from his throne. “ Prove your worth, Mr. Warrior! ”
With a whoosh of wind and a raucous scream, he ’ s suddenly in front of me, bringing his sword down, intent on slicing me in half.
Acting off sheer reflexes, I slam my sword into his, saving myself before we both lay our palms flat against the backs of our blades and push.
When we finally kick apart, I mount a full assault, slashing this way and that, making every attempt to cut this monster down.
He parries them all with ease before going on the counterattack, and same as him, I stave him off, knowing every move he ’ s going to make.
Above me, the Maddened King drops into his chair, cackling, holding his hand over his face to suppress tears as he kicks his feet up and down. “ This is brilliant, Jorg! ”
Blocking another attack, my knees go weak. The truth is so painfully obvious that it makes me lose all will to fight.
I ’ ll never beat this opponent. He ’ ll never beat me.
The Maddened King doesn ’ t plan to let me free, but rather…
*He plans to keep me here for all eternity. *
***
If you like this story, check out my sub! r/longhandwriter
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[ OT ] SatChat : What do you do in your writing that you feel is unique ?
| My better late than never intro:
1 = I live in Massachusetts, USA.
2 = Female, Crone
3 = I've been writing since the 1970's. I SAID I was old.
4 = My motivation... When I have something to say or when if I do n't write, I might explode with words. I'm a creative person anyway, so it is writing, or beading or sewing...
5 = I used Microsoft Word. The year before's NaNoWriMo I used Black Obelisk's ( I used it because it was my pet hen's name and colour ) Liquid Binder, which was really cool. Right now, I'm using Libre Office because it works with Windows 10. I've also written on my Kindle Fire with a Bluetooth Keyboard, and on actual paper with a pen.
6 = Typing... pfft. I suck at it... but if I'm typing along with my fat fingers in the right spots, I'm pretty okay. Three Words per minute. LOL.
As for what makes my writing unique. I write how I speak. Sometimes it's vernacular local to me, sometimes it's colloqiualisms where my story is based.
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[ WP ] Human and Android develop friendship/romance .
| `` Marc'' I look over at her. I was reading up on Napoleonic light cavalry tactics. `` Yeah Kay Cee? What can I do for you?'' She was knitting a pair of gloves for herself. Her friend Emma-EeVee Walters from across the street just made matching scarfs for her and her husband Jack. She loaned Kay Cee one of her books. So far it's been a success. Her friends have been admiring her handiwork. She looks up from her present work. `` What does grass smell like?'' I lean back in my chair. They're still a couple of years away from developing olfactory sense for androids. Sight, hearing, tactile were the first senses developed. Taste, is not nearly as important for people who do n't have too eat and although I love Kay Cee, I never let her cook for me. It's always been a disaster.
`` Grass? Well, I'd like think it's like the *Appalachian Spring, * especially. It's a very subdued smell. It's soft and gentle, flowing through both the air and you. It's always there, becoming stronger when cut. Pines, Pines are something stronger, something with more power behind them. They smell like they would sound like Stan Rogers' *Northwest Passage. *'' She crawls over to sit by me, her chin resting on her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs. She smiles at me, her optics shining purple. Goddamn she is cute.
She beams at me, her face full of delight and wonder. `` And fire? Smoke I mean...'' I think for a moment. *O Fortuna for sure.'' `` Really?'' I nod. `` Really.'' What about the smell of those steaks you like?'' I laugh aloud at that one. I know the answer perfectly. `` Copeland's Rodeo without a doubt.'' `` And water? What's that like?'' `` Well dear, depends. If we're talking about a calm night on the river, think *Blue Danube. * If it is tumultuous imagine *The Wreck of the Edmund FitzGerald. *''
I look into her optics and smile.
Kay Cee and me met strangely enough, at lunch. While she does n't eat, her human friends do, so she was in the cafe talking when I met her. Since androids do n't have a adolescent period, they do n't have much of a childhood. She was technically twelve years old when she was studying for her doctorate in English. But for all points and purposes, she was a woman in her late twenties with complete amnesia regarding her youth. They really worked on avoiding the uncanny valley. And so while the first generation was more robotic like and obviously artificial, she was unnoticeable from a normal human being. She dyed her hair brown, and braided it. She dressed like any normal girl her apparent age. The only give away was her eyes. She has the most regal deep purple eyes I have ever seen. They're mesmerizing. I did n't speak to her that first day, but the day after next, I asked her out. To my dual surprise and delight, she said yes.
We started dating after that. For much of it, a lot of our dates were simple things I had done as a young boy, sledding in wintertime, kite flying, fishing. She wanted to experience something she had not tried before. I loved it. I got to do all the things I used to do. It was like the C.S. Lewis quote, `` When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up'' We fell deeply in love. We got married three years later. Her mentor walked her down the aisle.
Now, I have the first gray in my hair this year, and I am an uncle four times over. She has aged better than me. She dyed one of her locks white so I would not look out of place. We are currently sitting in our house, the girls over at their friend Sera A3's place. I put on a album, it's an old one, from the early portion of the 21st century. It had belonged to my great grandfather. A rendition of Saint-Saens Symphony No. 3 fills the air. I grab the bottle of champagne from the fridge and two glasses. We toast one another. `` Happy anniversary my love.'' She smiles at me, her optics shining fiercely in the dimmed lights and taps my glass, `` And to many more.''
|
[ WP ] When you go to hell you are forced to watch the worst day of your life over and over again .
| There had to be a pause button. Hell was n't fire and brimstone, it was pure dark, a personal theatre, an entire wall serving as a screen flashing that day in front of me, taunting me. I tried to ignore the scene playing out in surround sound in front of me, searching the dark for a remote of any kind.
Suddenly a saccharine voice bled through the speakers and my hellish movie played silently.
`` Enjoying your stay?'' However sinister, its question seemed oddly sincere. I saw my chance.
`` You know what? I sure as hell am!'' I said, trying to find my expired and now worthless sense of happiness. `` You talk a big game about this place, but if you really wanted to make it hellish, you would make me live this day, not just watch it. You'd have me live it. You'd have me feel what I felt, experience what I did.''
All sound was gone, and I immediately relished silence, something I had not known for the length of time I'd been here. `` I see. As you wish,'' the voice said sweetly.
And I blinked, just to realize I was waking up in my bed next to my sweet Christopher. He was still alive. We had n't fought yet. He had n't slit his wrists. I had n't become dependent on alcohol and gotten in a car accident. Today was the day that set these things in motion. But not this time.
He opened his eyes, squinting at the sunlight. `` I'm sorry about last night. Please forgive me?''
`` Yes, yes of course.'' I told him. I'd outsmarted the voice, and I let Christopher hug me tight. We laid there in silence for what seemed like hours as I cherished second chances and the free feeling of forgiveness.
`` Thank you. I'm sorry I missed your birthday. My job is so demanding. I will get a different one. I just want to make you happy. I love you. I could n't live without you.''
`` I know,'' my voice broke and I felt a rush of tears come streaming down my face. `` I wo n't ever let that happen.''
|
[ WP ] A man escapes the banal reality of his nine-to-five cubicle job by internally pretending all of his interactions are in the middle ages in a land where he is a famous knight .
| `` Act as if, man, act as if. It's the key to success. Fake it'til you make it.''
`` I dunno, man, sounds a little... dishonest, do n't you think?''
`` No way,'' Will replies. `` You choose how to act and people choose how to react. And they react positively to positive things. Women do n't want to talk to some shy paper pusher, they want a guy who drives a Ferrari and walks into rooms like he owns the place. So you got ta act like that guy.''
`` Ehhh...'' I say, still unconvinced. `` I thought girls always dreamt about some super romantic guy who sweeps them off their feet? I mean, let's be real, Tiger, you do n't pull this crap with your girlfriend.''
Tiger ( that's what we call Will, since he's such a killer with the ladies ) shakes his head. `` That's because she's too smart, man, she'd see right through it. But most chicks eat that stuff up. Let's go with the romance thing, for example. What's the most romantic kind of guy you can think of?''
I shift in the passenger seat and think about it. `` I mean... there's always the cliché knight in shining armor who saves the princess. Like Disney stuff, you know?''
Tiger snaps his fingers and points at me, nodding. `` *Exactly*, man. Chicks love Disney. So act as if you're their knight in shining armor.''
I scoff. `` Tiger, you've got to be joking. That shit does n't work, I ca n't just suddenly be a hero.''
Tiger pulls the car into a parking spot and throws it into park. `` Why not, man? Why not? Mothers pick up trucks to save their babies. Rando guys save lives with CPR all the time. What makes you different? You're a hero, man, a knight. Own that - act as if. Act as if.''
We grab our briefcases and step out of the car, Tiger still talking. He points at me with a commanding finger, saying `` Listen - I want you to tell yourself at least once every ten minutes that you're a knight. Whenever you stop for a break, say it under your breath -'I'm a knight. I'm a famous knight in shining armor.' And I swear, you'll feel like a million bucks before the end of the day.'' And with that Tiger strode off to the elevator on his side of the parking garage.
I stare after him for a second and shake my head. *Act as if... what a load of crock. * I walk towards the staircase up to the street. But as I climb the stairs, I ca n't help myself. I look around, checking if I'm alone. And I say it, quietly at first.
`` I'm a knight.'' It feels good, for some reason, if also pretty silly. So I say it louder.
`` I'M A KNIGHT!'' I take a deep breath, slightly invigorated, and continue up the stairs, occasionally muttering to myself under my breath. `` Be a knight, you're a knight, you've trained your whole life to be a leader... so *lead*.''
I step out into the cold February air and shudder. I look around the street. A few carriages are tethered along the road, as snow flutters down and drifts around them. I pull my cloak tighter around me to ward off the chill and step onto the street.
Peasants walk by me, huddled against the cold, but I greet each one with a polite `` Good morn to you, sir,'' or `` Good morrow, m'lady.'' A few give me odd looks, but it feeels good to remind them that their knight is here among them.
I nod and smile at one couple as they pass, and as I do so I hear a whimper come from the alley to my right. I give it a passing glance and see two folks against the wall of they alley. I look away but something causes me to double-take, and that's when I see the knife.
I stop and consider the situation for a moment. Should I shout for the constabularies? A voice inside me screams that yes, I should, and once the alarm is raised, to run. This is none of my business.
*None of my business? * I think to myself. *A common rogue threatens my people, and it's none of my business? I daresay not. * And I step into the alley.
`` You there, rogue!'' I shout. `` Release your captive and face me, if you have the bravery of a worm.''
The unkempt man looks at me, hands still around the woman's throat, dagger held up to her face. `` Fuck off, or you'll end up with a knife in your gut.''
My eyes narrow. `` A threat, from one such as you? A coward who prays on women?'' I spit. `` I feel not fear, but contempt.''
The scoundrel gives me a confused look, then shoves the woman by her throat deeper into the alley. `` Okay, if you wan na be a fuckin' hero, let's play,'' and with that he squares off against me, dagger held forward.
With no sword or armor, I know this rogue poses a serious threat. That dagger can slip between my ribs twice before I could land a blow. I cast around for a weapon and spot one - a plank leaning against the side of the alley. The criminal follows my eyes and sees my intentions.
We both lunge at the same time, I to the right to snatch up the club and him charging towards me, ready to kill.
I grab the plank and swing around clumsily, slipping in the snow. The rogue jumps back to dodge, giving me the room I need to stand and face him. Now he wears a dirty scowl on his visage, while I attempt to keep my own face as empty as a banker's promise.
He lunges to my left, and I see my chance. I give the plank a sidearm swing and make contact with his hand. The man shouts in pain and drops his dagger to the ground. I bring the club back and swing it again, this time from over my head, as if chopping wood. The rogue tries to protect his skull by throwing his arms over his head, but that just rewards him with a broken wrist. He stumbles backwards and lands on his rear, arms still thrown up to protect himself.
`` Okay, fuck, you win, let me go, man!''
I raise the plank for the final blow to end this rogue's life, but a voice inside tells me *No. He has yielded. The combat has ended. Let him go... but with a reminder. * I lower the plank to point it at him.
`` You may go, but be warned - if I catch you in violation of the King's Peace again, I will bring you to the castle to be tried and hung. Do you understand?''
The man simply nodded as he pushed himself to his feet. I step aside and point to the alley entrance. He runs off into the city, looking over his shoulder to see if I follow. Instead, I turn towards the darkness deeper in the alley and call out, `` My lady? It is safe now - the rogue is gone. Please, come forth, that I may know you are safe.'' As she steps out from behind refuse heap, I toss the plank aside, so that she understands that I am no threat.
`` Oh my God... *Ryan?! * Is that you?''
I recognize the voice - Sara, from the HR department. Seeing a familiar face brings me back to reality, and I can feel the difference. I slouch a little and stuff my hands into my pockets, shuffling towards her rather than striding as I had been on the street.
`` Yeah, it's me, what's up?'' I immediately cringe at the idiotic question. *Think, be a knight, but do n't be weird... * `` Are you alright?''
She walks out of the shadows and joins me as we walk out of the alleyway. `` Yeah... he did n't take anything, just shoved me against the wall... then you showed up.'' She looks up at me with watery eyes and pursed lips - still afraid, still unsure of what just happened. `` Thank you.''
I give her a soft smile as I hold open the door to our office. `` No... it was my pleasure to help.'' She smiles back and steps into the building, and I follow her, feeling like a million bucks.
|
[ WP ] You 're an alien who has chased electromagnetic waves to find Earth . The only problem is : there are no humans on the planet . Find out what happened .
| My electromagnetic detector is beeping. I ca n't remember the last time it was quiet. It's been so long.
I put my spaceship in polar orbit for 24 hours to scan the Earth's surface. A scan of the Earth's surface revealed a number of expected features ( such as water ) and the presence of life. Everything is as it should be, except for the existence of intelligent life, of which there is no sign. After completing a full scan, I start to suspect that the electromagnetic waves I followed may have been due to some sort of cosmic radiation, and may have nothing to do with Earth. Frustrated, I prepare to depart.
It is then that the beeps stop. Then they come back. The quiet down again, only to pipe up.
Silence. Beep. Silence. Silence. Beep. Beep. Silence.
I realize quickly that there is a pattern. Perhaps some sort of coded message. In my excitement, the frustration evaporates as I steer my ship and plunge it through the Earth's atmosphere, sending up sparks that, I hope, will be seen by curious eyes.
|
[ WP ] God created thousands of worlds in thousands of galaxies . A major crisis in another galaxy has taken his entire focus , and for the first time in 750 years , he just glanced in our direction .
| God closed his eyes, opened them again. He'd been meaning to check out the Vatican in person for a while now. It was nice -- a little dated, but nice. God was in dining room, he saw. The Pope was there, sitting at a table alone with a newspaper and a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs. The Pope was eating breakfast.
`` Hey Pope, how's earth doing these days?''
The Pope looked up from his newspaper, said mildly: `` feelin' fine.''
`` Kickass,'' said the Lord of all Creation. `` Hey, that accent is tight, what kind of accent is that?''
Without putting down his coffee: `` It's Argentinian. I'm an Argentinian Pope.''
`` Kickass'', God repeated, distracted. He put out his Camel with the heel of his crocodile boot, turned to leave.
Back at home in Venice CA, God stepped out onto the patio of his one-bedroom apartment, grabbed a shirt off the clothesline, put it on. Coming down the stairs toward the parking lot, just off Pacific Ave, he spotted Charity and called out to her. `` Come on, sugar tits, get in the car.''
Draining her beer, Charity obliged. God fixed his attention on her long, tanned legs as she climbed into the passenger side of his black 1982 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. Some things, he thought, just do n't get old.
`` Where are we going, O Lord?'' She smiled flirtatiously. Charity knew he liked it when she called him that.
God lit up again, took a drag, narrowed his eyes. `` You ever had Argentinian before?''
Charity shrugged.
`` There's an empanada place up the road a little bit. You'll like it.''
God started the car, flipped his light out the window in a long parabola toward a row of trash cans. Just missed. `` Let's roll.''
God gunned the engine.
|
[ IP ] She stared out into the depths of space .
| `` There's no signal.'' June sat against the plexiglass observation port.
`` I told you.'' Marcus said, walking up the gangway towards his sister.
June glared at him. `` I ca n't believe you enjoy being out here,'' she said.
Marcus chuckled. `` Sure, it's not like the station. But all those lights and crowds got nothing on those.'' He pointed out the window towards the endless field of stars. He let his hand fall and smiled. `` Besides, it's nice being out here, alone, with your thoughts.''
The two remained in silence for a few moments, Marcus staring out the port and June staring at her brother.
June let out a long sigh and dropped her head against her chest. `` I knew it,'' came her muffled voice.
`` What's up?''
`` You really are weird.''
`` Huh?'' Marcus looked down at his curled up sister.
`` I always thought the other girls were exaggerating, but they were right.''
`` Hey, now!''
June raised her head and looked out of the port. Marcus was no good at being severe, so he smiled instead. When had June gotten like this? It was n't too long ago when she had been pressed against the plexiglass, pointing at stars and asking him to name them for her, or tell her who lived there, or if he had traveled to this one or that.
He shook his head. What a strange thing, to have such a large gap between their ages.
`` I like it, you know.'' June said, speaking into the glass. `` The'lights and crowds'. The station.''
`` There's so much more than that.'' He said.
`` There are people on the station who say that, too. How great it would be to travel off the station. What an experience living planetside would be. How you have to see a different part of the universe.''
She looked up at Marcus. `` They say that, and then they take their trips or they move or they sign up on one of the low-sec pilot crews. But they always come back. Every single one. And they talk about their experience and talk about just how great everything is outside. Yet they always come back.''
Marcus stood for a few moments. When had his sister gotten so thoughtful? Marcus supposed he should n't have assumed so much about her -- had n't he been that age too, at one time?
`` Well, I guess a lot of those people just want to make themselves seem like their important. Impressive in some way just because they did something that no one really thought of doing. Those types are n't really explorers.''
He had seen those types before, traveling in low-sec. And they usually had a tough time of it. Mostly recklessness mixed with a fair part of ignorance. Marcus had helped out a few of those in his time. He had seen someone like that outside of low-sec only once. The guy was writing a book about space. Said he wanted to tell a true story, even if it was fiction. And a true story about space, he insisted, was always a sad story.
The last Marcus had heard that guy's ship designation, he'd been somewhere out in the Deeps, a habitable cluster with a few backwaters. He always wondered if that writer's story had been true. Must have been, since Marcus never heard from him again.
`` Are you a real explorer?'' June broke the silence.
Marcus looked into her brown eyes. `` Well, yeah... I do it for the sake of discovery.''
`` Are you going to stop coming back, then?''
Marcus jerked back. She really had grown up, had n't she? He tried to keep his eyes level with her gaze, but found that he did n't have the strength to meet to questioning look. Instead, he stared out of the port.
`` Yeah, I'll come back. I always do.''
___
*Thanks for reading! You can check out more of my stuff at /r/chrisbryant! *
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[ WP ] `` Your soul will be mine ! '' `` ... which one ? ''
| The demon entered my mind once again. It was always tormenting me day after day hour after hour of being awake. It wanted my soul desperately so it could become more powerful. The demon was named Botis and it would never leave me alone even though I told Botis I could not possibly give it my soul. Botis promised to never bother me again as long as I provided it with my soul. I tried to explain to Botis that I do not have just one soul so I can not just give it mine because that would be logically impossible. So we went on in what seemed to be a never ending loop of Botis asking for my soul and me never giving it to the demon.
I thought to myself today is the day that I will banish Botis from my mind, but how to do so? I decided I just must make it clear to it what exactly do I mean by not having just one soul and with that Botis must leave me alone. `` Hey Botis!'' I said. Botis responded `` What is it young Daniel? Have you decided to give your soul to me?'' I took a deep breath trying to gain composure for what I was about to say `` No, I can not give you my soul because I have infinite souls. Each soul only last a moment where it is then replaced by a similar but different soul and this cycle will repeat until the day I die. So no you can not have my soul and you will never be able to because it has already died.'' With that realization Botis disappeared from my mind and a sense of calm that I had never experienced rushed over me.
|
[ EU ] `` There is no war in Ba Sing Se . ''
| `` You know, I ca n't shake this feeling that there's a war in Ba Sing Se.''
`` There's a *what? *''
`` Well, it's just a hunch, mind you. You do n't need to call the Dai Li over it.''
`` Where's this hunch coming from?''
`` Well, that column of Fire Nation tanks that just rolled by. That was a little suspicious.''
`` Are you sure those were tanks? I mean, the Fire Nation does all sorts of weird things with steam and metalworking. I'm pretty sure all their vehicles look like that.''
`` You have a point. But they had turrets.''
`` Oh, *turrets*. You're an expert on Fire Nation vehicles all of a sudden?''
`` Also, they had a firebender in the turret who was setting fire to things as they passed.''
`` Okay, you might have a point there. But it's just one column of tanks. Does n't really sound like a war. Like, would n't our army be fighting back?''
`` Well, there *was* that thing on the outer walls. Remember, the giant fire nation drill?''
`` That was a construction project.''
`` And the Terra Team all getting beaten senseless?''
`` Accidents happen. Those walls are really tall, you know.''
`` And the Dai Li soldiers tearing a gaping rift in the walls of Ba Sing Se from top to bottom, allowing the Fire Nation to march through?''
`` See? What did I tell you? That's not war, that's construction. Those walls are just unsafe.''
`` Excuse me, gentlemen. I'm with the Dai Li. I heard someone saying there was a war in Ba Sing Se?''
`` No, no, we're not saying there really *is* a war. It's just the overall impression my friend is getting. All this construction, you know, it's crazy! Like, a war on old buildings or something!''
`` Oh, yes. Do n't worry, we're about to make some announcements that should clear this all up. You see, Ba Sing Se has always been a part of the Fire Nation. Therefore, it should n't be surprising to see Fire Nation tanks moving through here.''
`` Ah! Ba Sing Se has always been part of the Fire Nation. Perfectly reasonable.''
`` I suppose that makes sense. But now I'm getting this nagging feeling that...''
`` Oh, do n't you start again! First it's wars in Ba Sing Se, then it's questions about nationality... Keep that up and you'll start seeing Fire Nation spies in every tea shop.''
|
[ WP ] Before you are born , you get to visit your potential parents and decide if you want to be their baby . You can choose to accept and be born , or reject them and never exist .
| I watch as the little boy cries. He sits on a cold floor, his face buried in his knees, his hot tears paving clean spots on his dirty cheeks. He holds his mothers hand and cries, her body halfway through the opened bathroom door. I see the marks in her arms, I see the needles littering the room. She is alive but unresponsive, and her little boy moves to crouch beside her and shake her gently.
I hear a shout from the next room, and I turn in time to watch a bottle shatter on the floor. The father laughs and grabs another from the case at his feet, taking a gulp before lifting his own needle to his arm.
I turn back to the boy, he ca n't be older than 8, and see him placing a pillow under his mothers head. He rolls her onto her side, and I get a glimpse of her bulging stomach. The tiny fetus that I could bring to life, if I choose. But why would I choose this life?
I start to leave, but I am distracted when the boy gets up again, and walks down a hallway. I follow him to a small bedroom. No bed, but a blanket on the floor, and beside it, a few broken crayons and sheets of newspaper. He chooses a color and begins to draw, a tree, a sun, two small figures playing in the grass. I watch his picture come to life, I see a ball come into existence between the two happy figures.
So badly, he needs a friend.
I make my choice, and soon I feel the small beating heart inside my chest.
|
[ WP ] write a story where the first and last sentence are the same but have totally different meanings .
| I wrote this for a prompt 6 months ago - can I use it here?
He gets me. He just, gets me.
When I met Michael, I knew that there was just something different about him. He was n't like most guys I had been around.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
I grew up in a small town in Eastern Missouri. We never had very much, but my sister and I never really seemed to notice.
Dad worked construction and was gone for long periods of time, and mom worked at a little restaurant that we got to go see her at every day. She said the manager did n't mind because it was nice having younger people around.
Mom worked the day shift and, except for lunch time, there were typically only old people there. I think having my sister and I at a booth made the place feel a little more alive.
There were days though, that my sister could n't go.
Amanda was three years older than I was, and because of that she got to go spend time at her friends' houses whenever someone invited her to.
Mom had said that it was because she knew that Amanda would n't get in trouble or act like a little kid, and that I would get to someday.
I did n't really mind going to the restaurant without her at first. Mom always gave me paper to draw on and sometimes I'd bring a doll or two.
The manager would always bring me a dessert from the case if I wanted to. He'd sit with me while I ate it and ask what sort of things I thought he should put on the menu for tomorrow's specials. I'd guess about things that I thought grown ups would like, but I think more than anything he was humoring me.
Mom would check on me occasionally, but mostly she just kept to her section and let me mind my own business.
I met Michael at the restaurant.
The day we met, he was there with his parents. It was a Sunday. The church crowd was filing in for the lunch time rush. I do n't know how long he had been there before I noticed that he kept staring at me, but when I caught him doing it, he smiled and looked embarrassed.
He had a really nice smile.
He did n't talk to me the first time I saw him at the restaurant, but I sure started to notice him there a lot more after that first day.
One day, he eventually worked up the courage to talk to me. He had excused himself from his parents' table to go to the bathroom, but he took a detour by me. I had been drawing a picture of some girls from a show I had seen that morning, and he told me how good of an artist I was. He said that he liked to draw a lot too, though he mostly drew animals.
He asked me how come I got to come to a restaurant by myself since I was n't old enough to be out on my own. I think a part of him was jealous. I did n't have to sneak away from my parents or pretend to go to the bathroom to do my own thing.
I told him how my mom worked there, and how on the days that my sister was out with friends I got to spend the day keeping myself entertained. He thought that was cool.
He was the first boy to ever make me feel special.
We did n't talk long that first day because he was supposed to be going to the bathroom, but the more I started to see him there, the more I started to learn about him.
The manager would sometimes ask me about him. I always got the feeling that he did n't like Michael. He had teased me so many times before about how kissing boys would give you cavities, I think it was hard for him to see me getting attention from someone. He was always telling mom that my sister and I were going to grow up before she knew it, part of me felt like he grew so attached to us that he was worried about the same thing.
One day Michael came to the restaurant by himself. It was strange to see him without his parents, but he told me that they had given him money to go eat on the strict orders that he walk to the restaurant, have his meal, and then walk straight home.
That was the first day I ever kissed a boy.
I asked him if he wanted to sit with me, but he said that he thought the manager would make him move tables if he did. We laughed about how old people always thought that young people were always just trying to get away with stuff, but regardless he sat by himself two booths away from where I had been sitting.
He must have made five trips to the bathroom before his meal had even come. Each time he would give me a note with questions on it, and then take my response on his way back to his seat.
`` What do you like to do for fun?''
`` Do n't you ever get bored sitting here all day?''
`` Do you like me?''
`` Do you know how pretty you are?''
I have to admit, I really loved the way he made me feel.
Eventually, he worked up the courage and asked me if I would meet him out in the front of the restaurant. He said he wanted to give me something.
I had an idea what he wanted. I watched enough shows back then to know that when a boy and a girl like each other, they flirt for so long, and then they kiss. I just - had n't ever liked a boy enough to think about it actually happening.
But with Michael, he stood out.
He finished his meal, paid his ticket with the 20 dollar bill his mother had given him, and left the restaurant. I saw him walk through the front door and off down the sidewalk, but I knew that he would be waiting just around the corner.
My mom was busy with her tables so I waited for her manager to run to the back for a second, and I was off.
I slunk out of my booth and made my way towards the front door. I remember feeling my heartbeat in my ears. This was something I had never done before. I knew I'd get grounded if mom found out that I had gone outside, but I figured she was busy enough and I was good enough that she'd never have to find out.
Besides, what's a short grounding compared to your first kiss?
He was there waiting for me just around the corner. The parking lot was as full as usual for a lunch time rush, but it felt like he and I were the only people in the whole world. He smiled when he saw that I had made it. I smiled back.
We laughed, and he told me how excited he was that I had been willing to meet him outside. I told him how quickly I needed to go back inside. I knew my mom would give me a few minutes once she saw that I was gone, figuring I was in the bathroom - but I did really need to keep things short.
I was nervous but it was that sort of electric nervousness that makes you want to run towards the thing you're sort of scared of. I started to explain to him how I had never really spent much time talking to boys, and that's when he kissed me.
The world stopped. My mind was filled with a rush of thoughts and feelings, most of all how I could n't believe that I was being kissed. Me! I was nearly positive that Amanda had n't been kissed yet. Sure, she got to go out with friends but had she been kissed? No.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
When I woke up, I was confused.
I could tell I was in the back of a van, but I was n't sure whose van it was or how I got there.
As my eyes started to un-blur I realized that Michael was driving. I had n't ever really thought about him being old enough to drive. I knew he was grown up, but since he had always come in with his parents I figured he just did n't have a car or something.
I tried to ask him what was going on, and where we were going, but my throat hurt too bad to talk. I was scared. Not scared like I had been earlier, where I thought something fun was about to happen. I was scared the way you get when something's going on that you ca n't stop. I wanted to know what was happening and I could n't even get the words to come out of my mouth.
Michael must have heard me wheezing and straining to talk to him. He turned back to look at me and then faced the road again.
He told me how he was so excited to take me home. He said that his parents had n't wanted him to come get me from the restaurant, but he had made them see how he was right. He told me that his parents would never keep him away from me again.
I tried to get up. I wanted to go sit up in the front seat with him so he could tell me what he meant. I wanted to get off of my side because my arm was falling asleep but - but I could n't because my hands and feet were all tied up.
He kept talking while I squirmed.
To this day, I do n't remember much of what he said on that trip. I know he told me that I'd never see my mother or sister again and that it did n't have to be a bad thing. He told me he'd take care of me and keep me safe from anyone that ever tried to hurt me. He told me that I was his.
Forever.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
I think back on that day so often. I wonder what would have happened if I had n't gone outside or if I had managed to make it back to my mom before he grabbed me.
But I was a dumb kid, and made a big mistake. I do n't get to go back.
I'm his now. He gets me. He just, gets me.
|
[ WP ] `` Daddy , why are n't you afraid of the monsters ? '' `` Because , Sweetie . The monsters are afraid of me ''
| `` Daddy, Why are n't you afraid of the monsters?''
`` Because, Sweetie. The monsters are afraid of me.''
He kissed her on the forehead as she giggled then slowly sat down in the chair next to her bed. A night-light by the door was dim enough for her to sleep and bright enough for him to see.
He pulled a hot stone from his pocket and ran it along the length of a blade. It was rhythmic and he hummed in time with it until his daughter was sleeping.
The first one came from under her bed. He stepped on its neck and punched the blade through its head. The first ones out are n't that strong, just fast. They're easier to overpower.
He pulled his blade along the curve of its head and stopped when his daughter rolled over. He waited for a moment before slowly and quietly pulling the blade from its head.
He felt a vibration on his leg. His phone. He wiped the blade on his leg before reaching into his pocket. As he pulled the phone from his pocket a shadow crossed over his arm pulling at the phone. He never even felt it leave his grip.
He gritted his teeth as he swung his blade through the shadow. He did n't swing twice. He went into a hyperventilative trance. With each breath the shadow inched closer to him. It pulled away from him between breaths but with every inch that it moved away he inhaled it 2 inches closer. Eventually it quit struggling and he consumed it.
`` Daddy I have to pee.''
`` Ok Sweetie, hurry up. I do too, I just drank a monster.''
She giggled as he walked her down the hall. Shadows leaped away from them. Even a candle in the hallway dimmed when they strode by.
|
[ WP ] `` God is dead . We have killed him . ''
| Warning: Violence, Racism, Homophobia, and reference to a small penis. If you are sensitive to any of these themes, or somehow think my depiction of a character is a reflection of my worldview, well, fuck you.
White, nothing but white. My ears almost stung from ringing so hard. All I could smell was dirt, blood, and gun powder. I was dead, and I was okay with that. As I was finding peace with my eternal rest I was interrupted by shaking. My white vision faded into a pristine image of sun rays bouncing off blades of glass. I turned around on my back to see my friend Vincent yelling at me. God damn it, what was he so worked up about? The ringing in my ears was slowly replaced with his low, scratchy voice.
`` WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?! YOU KILLED HIM. HOLY SHIT YOU KILLED HIM.''
I spat the bits of grimy dirt that had landed in my mouth and tried to recall the events leading to what I thought was my death. A pile of blood soaked white cloth lay in front of me. I remembered Vincent and I had waited outside the bar to shake down drunks that probably would be too fucked up to report anything to the police. I looked in my hand, it was the little.38 I had found in that woman's purse the week before.
That stumbling old bastard, now I remember. He fell out of the bar on his face, Vincent and I watched him struggling to get up. We offered to help him get home, led him to the field across the highway. Come to think of it, I do n't know why we chose him, he looked like the type that gets drunk on a Tuesday afternoon. It is Tuesday afternoon, after all. But killin'? That's never been part of the plan. I only keep the gun loaded because its a revolver, and sometimes you can tell. Let's see we lead him there. I pulled out the gun and said `` we do n't want to hurt you...''
He knew my name, and Vincent's name. He was glowing soft white, I could n't see his face. He sounded sad, but his voice boomed and resonated like a loudspeaker. He said,
`` Roger, Vincent, this was not my plan for you. You have forsaken me.''
And that's it. That's all I remember. Vincent had a panicked look on his face but he was watching me put the pieces together. Finally I spoke up,
`` Forsaken? Who the fuck talks like that. I've only heard that word used by that dumb fuck pastor at the chur''
I stopped. Vincent kept quiet but raised his eyebrows impatiently and stuck his neck out as I was finally reaching the same conclusion he had.
`` Nooooo, you ca n't kill G... God? Right?'' I said.
`` He struck your dumb ass with lightning and the shock made you pull the trigger. You know anyone else that can strike people with lightning?''
My stomach was in my throat. I felt like a piece of sheet metal that got hit with a hammer. My vision was shaking, and dark, my heart was beating through my chest, and I turned over to my hands and knees, gasping for air. I liked it better when I was dead.
Before I could speak the field shook and a circle of tall flames surrounded us. Deep thunderous laughter erupted as the skies darkened. A tall hideous red beast emerged through the ground, leaving a glowing red void in his wake. This monstrous beast stood before me, horned head with black eyes, and sharp teeth. He was built like a brick shithouse, covered in giant vascular muscles. However, I could n't help but notice in all of the beast's naked glory, he had the smallest penis I had ever seen, and seemingly non-existent testicles.
I looked over at Vincent, who had also taken a moment from cowering to fixate on the disproportionately small phallus. He broke our distraction with a lion like roar, and commanded us to kneel. We complied without hesitation as the beast spoke.
`` Your souls are mine!''
He erupted into maniacal laughter as Vincent and I exchanged glances. We were horrified, yet I knew he was equally disappointed in the cliche. The laughter began to die and the beast shrank into a small balding black man dawning white robes. He was also laughing, not maniacally though. This guy was in stitches. He was stumbling around laughing and pointing, mimicking our faces during the experience. I noticed his giant lips were stained black from smoking cigars and he was missing a couple teeth. He stopped laughing abruptly and his expression hardened. He turned to me,
`` YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD GET THA DROP ON ME, MOTHA' FUCKA'?!''
`` Gods... a... nigger?'' I said under my breath.
`` THAT'S RIGHT YOU RACIST BACK COUNTRY BANJO STRUMMIN' ASS BITCH, I CAN BE WHATEVER I WANT.''
Vincent broke his silent and his voice cracked as he struggled to speak up.
`` Well does n't that make you racist too, for your stereotypical depiction of a black man?''
A small bolt of electricity shot from God's hand into Vincent and he fell to the ground.
`` SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'M GOD I DO N'T HAVE A RACE SO I CA N'T BE RACIST. IF ANYTHING YOU'RE RACIST FOR THINKING I'M A STEROTYPE''
Vincent and I exchanged glances, we were in disbelief. God spoke up again.
`` I KNOW YA'LL SAW THE DEVIL'S DICK, THAT SHIT'S TO SCALE TOO.''
He erupted into laughter again but was interrupted by a disgusting fit of smoker's cough. He finally contained himself.
`` YA'LL A COUPLE OF MEAT GAZERS, I DO N'T JUDGE THAT THO''
His temperament changed. He held out his arms, though he still seemed obnoxious, we could n't help but be drawn to his presence.
`` MY SONS, COME BASK IN MY MOTHA FUCKIN' GLORY''
We approached him, and he held the back of our heads. As soon as his hand touched my head I felt a beautiful peace overwhelm my soul. I was floating in a warm sea of love and contentment, this is where I wanted to be for eternity.
The moment was broken as he smacked us in the face with a thunderous clap, simultaneously.
`` STOP FUCKIN' UP!''
He gave us a last stern look, snapped his fingers, and vanished in a poof a smoke. I had seen God, he was obnoxious and smelled like stale black and milds, because I was a racist thief. I'm sure there was something to be learned here, and I hope I figure it out one day.
|
[ WP ] Humans have discovered the secret to immortality . Meanwhile , Satan and God fight over every soul that they can get .
| God sat at his desk, shuffling papers in an attempt to look busy. There used to be a sort of lectern situated before those massive pearly gates, but that was a different era. Why stand all day when there was no one to impress? God was old, and God was tired.
God sat at his desk, trying to ignore the angry stomping sounds that were getting louder. He buried his face in his hands, hoping the source of the stomping would change its mind and not bother him today.
`` God.'' The voice was a roar. `` You have taken what does not belong to you.''
God lifted his head to look Satan in the eyes, exhausted.
`` Does one's soul truly belong to any being but himself?'' God's voice was quiet and carried as much authority as he could muster.
`` Look.'' Satan lowered his voice to match the king of heaven's, but he could n't keep all the annoyance out of it. `` I know what you're trying to do, and it is n't working. There's a natural order to this sort of thing! You of all people should know that. The order must be maintained. You *know* this man's soul belongs to me. Do what's right, for the good of all.''
God sighed. How petty and immature could Satan be? He stared quietly at his opponent for a few minutes, hoping the ruler of hell would realize how ridiculous he was being and just leave. When it became obvious that would n't happen, God spoke again.
`` My brother.'' God shook his head sadly. `` You've never been able to see the potential for good in people. It's all black and white to you. This soul is not mine or yours; he is not good or bad. He is a human being and as such there is a place for him by my side. In fact, this is the way it should have always been. What we need, what these men need, is forgiveness.''
Satan slammed his hand onto God's desk, sending papers flying in all directions.
`` You have gone insane,'' he growled. `` You are not a fit ruler of this kingdom.''
`` Insane?'' God raised his eyebrows and looked at Satan with pity. `` Insane because I have decided to show some compassion? You know, there are some people on earth who worship you instead of me. They think I am... violent, and unforgiving, while you kill only when it is necessary. It is time for me to alter my reputation, brother. It is time to prove that I, too, am capable of compassion. I killed this man because it was necessary, and he rests with me now.''
`` You are making a grave mistake,'' Satan spat. Exasperated, he turned his back on God, and stalked back to his own kingdom. Finally.
God waved and gave a thumbs up to the serial rapist he had sparred, grinning. Then he turned to watch Satan walk back home. It was n't a long walk. Heaven and Hell were on the same plane now, separated by a distance that was miles across instead of miles down. God could see his brother's kingdom from his desk. And no one could figure out what had happened to purgatory.
|
[ WP ] Santa is real , he just has n't been able to keep up with the rise in population .
| The children I covenanted with
Were the children of farmers,
Destined to grow into farmers themselves.
They wished for a doll with button eyes
And straw hair, stuffed with goose feathers,
A pinewood hobby horse on uneven wheels,
Or a good piece of a fresh hare once in a while.
They lived in single room cottages
With reliably short chimneys
And went to bed with the sunset.
*
They did not keep to the terms of our pact,
But discovered light emitting diodes,
Condominiums, and penicillin.
They sailed across oceans to kill and take land,
Tell every other soul that Christ died for them too,
Lay a boundless City of Angels at the Occident,
And, in the sunshine, film commercials
For a million hover boards and Playstations
That elves have no idea how to build.
*
The Tickle-Me-Elmos,
They were like icbergs
To the Titanic,
All turning themselves on in my sack
And unbalancing the sleigh,
Capsizing every ten feet.
That was when I gave up for good.
They replaced me with impostors;
Took any obese man over forty
And sat him in shopping mall atria
To keep my absence a secret.
I was not so fat until I was made useless.
*
Yet hidden between unceasing calls
For Minions and Call of Duty,
A few will still clutch a pencil in their tiny fists,
Write a crooked, sweeping note on lined paper
For a father to come home from the Levant
Or a puppy to make a big sister cry less.
Above these special bedrooms,
If Christmas night is very clear
You might still catch an old man
Carried on by strong reindeer.
/r/opinionsaboutnothing
|
[ CW ] Write the context of the following line . `` I have seen empires rise and fall . Entire worlds have burned at my command . I was old before you were born , and will yet be young when all you know is nothing but dust and ash . ''
| I was flung up in the air like a paper ball, and when I landed, I landed hard.
`` Son of a bitch!''
My back hurt all over and my right arm felt like it was on fire. I rolled over onto my front, and put in a half-assed effort to get up. But I was picked up again, but this time, I was held there. Staring at a god.
He was n't a particularly nice looking god. He had a scar going across his left eye, starting from his nose to just short of his black hair. His eyes were pure blue. Like the blue of the sky. His arms were quite normal looking. Maybe he worked out a little longer than most, but other than that he was pretty normal.
***You think that you can defeat me? ***
His voice is strange to describe. You did and did n't hear it. He spoke in Danish, yet you understood it in English. It sort of auto-translated, as he spoke. But in your head.
`` Not particularly. You are a god, and I'm just a guy working in Department 19. This is n't even in my job description. I'm supposed to be going after zombies, vampires, aliens, that stuff. Not gods. The Americans are the ones who do that. They think of you as their equals anyway.''
***Yet you were the one who interfered. Why is that? ***
`` *We, * interefered,'' I make sure to put plenty of emphasis on we, `` because we had reasonable suspicion that all was not well in that warehouse. Had we known it was one of you, we would n't have bothered you.'' Oh no.
His face twists in anger and his eyes narrow.
***WHAT DO YOU MEAN'ONE OF YOU.'***
Oh shit. He's pissed. God, I should n't have gone in with only my partner, I should have waited. They said they would be there in 5 minutes, why could n't I wait that long.
`` I mean no disrespect, but there are other gods, are there not? And I think you would have some similarities with other animals in that you are a unique individual, but you are a part of a group that is one species.'' Kurwa.
He throws me again, this time harder. And straight into a brick wall.
***DID YOU JUST GENERALIZE ME, AND MY KIND? ***
Owowowowowowow. I ca n't feel my back anymore. I ca n't even move.
`` Yes,'' I say through clenched teeth. `` And in a way, you just did too.'' I am really terrible at knowing what to say. It is much easier when there's only 3 options.
He walks over to where he threw me. He picks me up again. I think I'm paralyzed from the waist down, I ca n't even feel my legs fall limp.
***I HAVE SEEN EMPIRES RISE AND FALL. ENTIRE WORLDS HAVE BURNED AT MY COMMAND. I WAS OLD BEFORE YOU WERE BORN, AND YET I WILL BE YOUNG WHEN ALL YOU KNOW IS ASH AND DUST. YOU THINK YOU ARE MY EQUAL? ***
I ca n't help but smile as I hear car doors slam. `` No, but they do.''
`` DROP HIM AND GET ON THE GROUND!''
`` PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!''
`` GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES! SLOWLY!''
I do n't think I would properly be able to describe what it looks like when 20-ish guys come running in to arrest a god. So I'll leave you to think about.
`` Took you guys a bit longer than five minutes did n't it?'' I stretch out my left arm to shake it. `` I would offer you my right, but I think it's broken.''
`` We'll get you patched up straight away Agent Cardiff. Do n't worry about it.'' He shakes my hand and turns back toward his men. `` Get this guy in a truck and lock him up tight. And someone call the Israelis, we got a guy who can hardly move over here.''
- - -
*Like that story and want to read more by me? Drop by my originally named subreddit, /r/TheDynastyProject. Tell me what you think!: ) *
*Edit: If anyone knows Danish and would like to translate those sentences, I would appreciate it. I would use Google translate but that is notoriously unreliable in my experience. *
|
[ WP ] Humanity once fought a war against a powerful foe . They lost , earth is gone . And humanity is scattered across the known universe , nearly extinct and rare .
| He slipped into the alleyway, the narrow opening between buildings high above him and their angles diminishing the rain somewhat.
He knew the city Tono. He was raised here and he knew the shortcuts. But he knew more than that. He knew the traffic patterns, where one would walk given their location, speed, direction. He could intercept an individual fifteen minutes after seeing them in a completely different sector. Be waiting for them with a cup of tea and a newspaper, just leaning against the wall.
So he knew exactly where the man was headed. He had n't seen another human since he was young. He was fourteen when his father died, and 12 when he saw him last.
He nearly slipped on the wet grated slate that composed the alley floor as he came around a corner. A crowded marketplace exploded in noise and color, as unexpected in verve and life as it was in presence. These pop-up markets happened. All it took was a trader trying to pawn off the last of his off-world shipments before returning to his home planet, and before you know it there is fifty individuals of all shapes and sizes haggling over some small piece of off planet meat.
He quickly moved through the mess. Not a soul noticed. In his smooth motion he barely made physical contact with anyone.
On the other side of the mob he could see the alleyway's end, exactly where the human should be passing by in, say, 30 seconds. He exhaled, he had n't given much thought to what he would say, what he would do. Was it even safe?
As he neared the corner, the man stepped quickly into sight, facing him. Vox stopped. Stood motionless. It was n't possible. He would have known if there was a human around long enough to know the sector as well as him. The man stood staring at him, a slight smile curled from his lips. Two other humans stepped next to him from around the opening.
Vox swallowed.
|
[ WP ] A man dies and awakens in limbo , which takes the form of a vast , shining grocery store . He 's left to pace the aisles with only the stockboy-archangel to guide him .
| *Clean up on aisle 17, I repeat, clean up on aisle 17*
I groaned as I placed my palms on the cold tile floor, where was I? I pushed myself up and clutched the near by stand. The sight that bestowed upon me was phenomenal. I'd never seen anything like it; a Sunday, and there's no one fighting to the death over the new fresh fruit and vegetables. I walked over to the red apples and picked one up, it was fresh and wonderful, red like blood.
`` How did I get here?'' I whispered to myself, as I turned sharply around the store. It was completely deserted, the only thing accompanying me was the soft tune of the shopping center music.
`` Can I help you with something?'' A crackly voice asked behind me, `` Anything you want?'' I turned to see a small early teenage boy standing in all green, the uniform of the shop. He had short brown hair, a skinny build and more bumps on his face than a gravel road.
`` Uh, yeah,'' I replied, `` Where am I?''
`` Limbo,'' He replied as his voice broke, `` I'm here to help you along the way.''
`` This is in between heaven and hell? Why is it in a Woolies^1?''
`` Did you expect it to be in a foggy void?''
`` Pretty much, what is heaven like?''
`` It's across the road, hell is on the opposite side of the grocery store.''
`` So how do I get out of here?''
`` Well,'' the kid began, `` You can walk outside the doors and choose which one to go to, but you ca n't tell the difference between them. Or you could walk with me, we can fill the shopping cart of all your experiences and see how much it checks out.''
I guess that sounded like a better option than having a 50/50 shot of burning in hell for eternity, and I have n't killed anyone so it could n't be that bad, could it?
We approached aisle 1 while I pushed the trolley.
`` Let's see what we have here,'' the kid began, ``'Was given favorite toy' that's a good one.''
`` Is n't there anything else down this aisle that we could use to check out? Do I have my first day of school here? What about when I won my citizenship award when I was 10?''
The attendant looked at me; `` These aisles are n't random, they're assigned by years. Unless you want'Ate his greens' shining in this cart, this is the best way to go.''
I sighed, grabbing the bag that said;'Bob the Teddy Bear' and walked to the next aisle, pointing at the box that read;'First steps and words'
`` What about this? This is a great achievement in my life.'' I held the box to the kids face and he stared at me.
`` No, that's generic. It wo n't shine out to the check out, here, this is better,'' He held out a thin box that read;'Justin' `` This was your first friend, you met him when you were both two. Look; most people do n't make friends until they're later in life. This shows that you can be social and respectful when you were at a really young age.''
I sighed, and carried on.
Each aisle was the same, I'd point something out and the kid would decline and pick out something new. Even through teenage years, the years that I have just experienced, he knew them better than me.
`` Here we are, the final aisle, aisle 17.'' I looked up, and gasped at what I saw. There was no items, there were no tags, just two things. My mangled corpse from my car accident, and a tall man in a suit. I grabbed the kid by the shoulder;
`` What the fuck is this!?''
`` This is the last aisle, do n't worry - everyone has the same reaction. You see, that,'' He pointed to the mangled piece of flesh bleeding on the ground, `` Is what you finally became, and the other guy is what you could have become. Since there is only one item in this aisle that you did do, we will take it. Could you carry it for me? The trolley is full.''
I looked down at my broken body, I stared at it for a long time, I do n't know how long. It's just I could n't believe that I would ever look like that. I've seen shit like this on the news and on the internet, but never in real life, let alone that it was myself.
I bent down, and picked up the mess. The squelching sound made me throw up in my mouth, and I turned to walk down the aisle. The man, no, the me in the suit just stared at me and I walked to the check out.
I plumped my corpse on the conveyor belt as I turned to look for the kid, not surprising, he was n't there. Only my'shopping' was present at my shins. I followed the corpse down the black treadmill with my other items, then I looked up.
`` You're the cashier too?''
The kid look up as well, `` Is there anyone else working here? Anyway, you want your receipt?''
I held out my hand as the small piece of paper slid in.
`` You're not worthy,'' the kid sighed, `` Many people come in here, and many go to heaven. Many go to hell as well. But you, no, you're a select few, you know what you did? You let me choose the best events in your life for you, I ordered you to pick up your own bloody corpse, and you accepted defeat when you saw yourself in thirty years. You are a failure, you ca n't take control of your own life, you let others take care of it for you.''
`` So, where does that take me?'' Is stuttered,
`` Walk out those doors and find out...'' he pointed to the automatic doors, and they slid open showing a white Aether. I held my breath and I walked through the pearly white glass doors.
-- -- -
^Epilogue
`` Dude you coming? We're just going to the store.'' Jarred laughed, `` Nothing's going to happen.''
I was holding the car door, the cold handle rested in my palms.
`` How about we walk?'' I asked, `` We could stop at McDonalds along the way.''
`` Whatever,'' Jarred obliged, `` I had a few drinks today anyhow.''
-- --
^Footnotes
^1 Woolies is a grocery store in Australia.
|
[ WP ] You get the job for an intergalactic pizza delivery company . Your first delivery is for a short-tempered war lord from Mars .
| It was Zike ’ s first day on the job, and considering the strictness of Planetary Pizza, possibly the last as well. With the way things were going, though, he was hopeful.
“ Now, repeat after me. Thank you for purchasing pizza from Planetary Pizza, the galaxy ’ s first intergalactic pizza company that guarantees the highest quality pizza at near light-speed delivery in forty-five minutes or less. ” Rail, officially titled Manager 5B, looked at Zike expectantly. She was known as being one of the nicer managers at Planetary Pizza # 5. “ Well? ”
Zike sucked in a great deal of air before he began. He had started to memorize the company ’ s slogan the very day that he was given the job and the company manual. To show up your first day at Planetary Pizza and not know the final delivery statement was, to put it politely, an amateur mistake.
“ Thank you for purchasing pizza from Planetary Pizza, the galaxy ’ s first intergalactic pizza company that guarantees the highest quality pizza at near light-speed delivery in forty-five minutes or less. ” Zike spoke so quickly that he found himself gasping for air after finishing, his eyes wide with anticipation as he stared up at Rail.
“ Eh, not bad. You need to work on your pronunciation of the words ‘ intergalactic ’ and ‘ delivery ’, but it will do. Just make sure you say it perfectly to him after you ’ ve stated lines 5 and 6 in the delivery dialogue. ” Standing at nearly foot above him, she beamed down at him, he eyes crinkled behind her purple-rimmed glasses.
“ Go get ‘ em kid. Make sure you pay attention to where you ’ re going, although even a monkey could operate our navigation system. And don ’ t mess it up. Especially not this one. ” With a clap on the back, she sent him on his way.
Before he knew it, Zike was in the delivery car, and with the perfectly square pizza box resting on the seat behind him, he was on his way to Mars. Zike was driving all the way from Titan, but there was more than enough time for him to get there. Rail had mentioned that he had been given a highly lengthy and difficult delivery, especially since he had just started, but order were orders. Planetary Pizza took any order, no matter how absurd the request. Any order, as long as the pizza could be delivered within forty-five minutes or less. And at Planetary Pizza, delivery in forty-five minutes or less wasn ’ t just a promise or a goal. It was law.
During the few minutes it took to prepare the pizza, Rail made sure to brief him on the delivery client.
“ You ’ re going to be delivering Lord Naitram, war lord of the 4th district of Mars. Although you probably won ’ t see him at all, thankfully. I mean, he weighs over 500 pounds. That fat slug would have to have his Firebrand ’ s carry him out the door. He ’ ll probably just send one of them out to get it like he usually does. ”
As he drove past Jupiter, he began to get nervous at the prospect of visiting the 4th district. Zike had never been to the planet Mars before, and with good reason.
Mars was known as the red planet, but not just for its color. A violent nation that was regulated by equally violent war lords, Mars and its inhabitants saw nothing but red. The citizens of Mars were, without question, the most socially primitive and angry species within the galaxy. Slug-like creatures known as Firebrands, they preferred to resolve conflicts with their weapons rather than their words. Each Firebrand lived in one of the 20 districts on Mars, obeying the commands of their district ’ s respective war lord.
At the present moment, Zike knew there were at least two ongoing district wars. Rail had reassured him that the 4th district was not a participant, and that Planetary Pizza always refused orders from districts at war due to the difficultly of achieving a successful delivery. But that wasn ’ t enough to calm his nerves.
Now in the asteroid belt, he bit his lip as he thought about all the things that could go wrong.
*What if I accidentally go to the wrong district, and that one is at war? Or what if I piss off one of the Firebrand ’ s and they won ’ t let me go? Or what if-*
His thoughts were cut short when an asteroid, suddenly appearing in his trajectory, collided with the delivery car.
Next thing he knew, he found himself in the vehicle, floating in the asteroid belt, the car no longer moving. He had been knocked unconscious.
*Damn…how did this happen? The navigation system…but I should have been able to blast through that asteroid at the speed I was going anyway. *
He pulled out his cell phone, preparing to call Rail and most definitely lose his job, when he saw it.
“ Forty-seven missed calls from the same number. What? ”
As soon as he said that, his phone began to vibrate, and the same number was calling him. With trepidation, he answered.
“ …Hello? ”
“ Is this Zike? Zike Valor? ” The voice was incredibly deep, raspy, and utterly terrifying.
“ Y-y-yes. ”
“ This is Parker Paragon, founder and owner of Planetary Pizza, the galaxy ’ s first intergalactic pizza company that guarantees the highest quality pizza at near light-speed delivery in forty-five minutes or less. Do you realize what the hell you ’ ve done? ”
“ N-n-n-n-n- “ He couldn ’ t speak.
“ You ’ re over an hour late for your delivery. You ’ ve started a war of massive proportions on me and my company. Several people have already died. You will fix it. Even if you have to pay with your life. Or else. ”
|
[ WP ] A boy gets to spend time with his father one day each year . Today was that day , but now it 's time to say goodbye .
| `` I met a girl recently, there's something special about her, Dad.''
The breeze gently tussled Jack's hair just as his father did when he was a boy. Jack sat on the grass beside him, the morning dew soaking into his jeans. Every year, Jack would find himself rambling on about topics that seemed so trivial; but he knew his father would always listen.
`` Mom wishes you would come back you know. I know she never gets to tell you that.''
His gaze was fixated on the sun rising just over the hill. He wished that they could meet under different circumstances but Jack knew this world was n't fair and his visits always had a somber mood. Jack spoke for hours, telling his dad about everything that happened to him that year; going back to school, meeting Maria, even winning an old pocket watch in a raffle.
`` I guess it's time for me to go.''
Jack looked at the man who helped shape his entire life and as the tears welled up in his eyes he said, `` Happy Birthday Pop. Mom asked me to get you these,'' and laid a bouquet of bright, yellow tulips on the base of the gravestone.
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[ RF ] Take me through a walk in your hometown . Make me feel like I 've lived there for a very long time .
| Growing up, I never understood the idea of hometowns or even nostalgia. We moved every few years, and my dad explained it to the four of us like this: `` A house is like underwear. You use it for a certain amount of time, and then you need to get a new pair.'' As a kid, I laughed, because who would n't laugh when their dad makes a joke about underwear? But I had lived in eleven different places by the age of fifteen, and it quickly stopped being a joke or a `` new adventure'' to my siblings and me. As I moved off to college and started my own life, it hit like a brick the first time I was asked `` So where are you from?'' I had no answer, so I just sputtered out, `` I do n't know.''
Now the only time -- perhaps in her entire life -- my mother put her foot down was in regards to where my brother and I went to school. It was a little Christian private school, an hour away from us usually, and, against all odds, I stayed there from 2nd grade to my senior year, through six or seven different houses but graduating in a class of sixty teenagers I had known almost my entire life. That school was in a town named Wellsworth.
Wellsworth eventually became my answer to the dreaded small talk question, and as I grew up, I grew proud of the little town, feeling like I was sticking it to my old man by even claiming a place as mine. But it was mine -- I *knew* this town, every road, every shortcut from 141 to Arnold Mill to Trickum to Main St, every gas station and every restaurant. Each and every corner was an intimate memory to me, a daily part of my life, and when the lifeblood of the town, Highway 141, was renamed I felt an anger rise in me -- how dare they change the name of that well-worn stretch of road?
As a little girl, that road carried me past all the fast food joints the interstate had collected, and I would always ask my mom for a frosty or a waffle fry or some little knick knack that my friend got in her Happy Meal. And Mom would speed right on by, twenty miles per hour over the speed limit like everyone else and just like how I drive nowadays. When I was nineteen, that highway carried me all the way down to a little Bible church where I met the sweetest people and made the truest friends, and in the process, fell in love with the first man to truly break my heart. We lived two minutes down the road from each other, and we would hang out at the local Waffle House with such frequency that we knew all the staff and even went to their children's birthday parties. But then it all fell apart in a parking lot off that highway, him yelling and me crying, and after he left for Florida, I just drive past that Waffle House every day and never go inside.
That town is a part of me: the fountain in the main square that changes colors at night, the Wal-Mart that is almost 100 % empty on a Sunday morning, getting to know the cashier at Kroger on a first-name basis, and, what I will never forget, the highway that I drove four or five times a day, living my life with the windows down and the music loud, and never realizing that the most precious memories were the ones I was n't looking to make.
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[ WP ] You are a prostitute with OCD ( NSFW )
| *Pick pick pick pick. That's all I do is n't it? Why have I got to do this every morning? Why? Why why why why should I do something again and again? I know why, but I ca n't stop. The word echoes in my head; bouncing around along with all the others words like doubt and-and confusion. Why? Because I'm never sure. Am I right? Or am I wrong? Maybe I'm almost there, maybe I've barely scratched the surface. * `` The thoughts in my head are going wild again, they're started; begun to run, and for how long?''
*My room, perfectly symmetrical, but not really. I have to tell myself that even though I do n't believe it. How could I not believe myself? Could I lie to me? * `` I look at my desk, every little object arranged in their correct positions. ( except the one button there that I am now correcting ) No, what I thought to be a correction was later revealed as a mistake; an error of which I am to be ridiculed for by myself, or the people who come to visit; if they come to visit. I spend the rest of my day arranging everything, the details of which will most certainly bore you; and therefore I will omit and skip to the evening, when I work as a lady of the night.''
*I stand in the middle of the walkway, my feet equidistant from the lines that separate the tiles. A car rolls up* `` Hey there pretty thing, need a ride to summplace?'' `` You-you can be straight with me now, we both know what you're in for.'' *He beckons with his right hand, and I oblige, stepping into the car. He's turning left at Turner Street, heading into that alley. I hope he finds me attractive, or rather, suitable for his tastes which ca n't be THAT exquisite considering how and where he picks up girls from the sidewalk of the streets. *
`` Alright, get workin on it.'' *He unzips his pants; no smell. That is definitely a good start, I'm guessing he washed straight before coming to me. I push it into my mouth, working the tip, covering the sides evenly with my tongue. He starts to moan; he's either in pain or he's enjoying it. I hope it's the latter. He begins tugging at my shirt, he wants me to take it off. Again, I oblige and unbutton, all the whilst avoiding eye-contact. My eyes could be too wide open, or too close and he would find it... me disgusting and throw me out, moving on to the next one he finds. My top falls off, I immediately pick it up and start folding. He's looking at me funny, as if he had found something odd in his soup and the waiter picked it out and denied him a refund. I do n't like the way he's staring at me. * `` You wan na get on with it, girl? Put your clothes aside, that can wait.'' `` But do n't you understand? Do n't you see? I ca n't put it aside, it has to be folded. I've probably made another crease putting down and I have to fold it again. I have to fold it again. Ca n't you see?'' *His intense stare turned into a confused look. The waiter finally agrees to give him another bowl of soup. He looks down at it, sees something funny again. * `` You're not playing with me, are you?'' *Evidently, I had irked him. He did n't sound angry. * `` No, I'm not playing with you, but I probably should. That's what you're paying me for, is n't it?'' *I put my clothes as gently as I could onto my lap. I leaned over, and continued. * `` How deep can you take it?'' *He asked. I did n't need to see the twinkle in his eyes; the hope that I would do it. I did n't get to respond. He took matters into his own, gammy hands. Sweaty palm gently rested on the back of my head, he pushed me down. I got up immediately, but not to gag. * `` See what you've done now? You've ruined my hair.'' *I picked a curly hair from my mouth and threw it away. * `` I-I'm sorry.'' *He blurts out, sounding oh so sincere! A mere apology is n't going to fix it? The wind messes up my hair, but I do n't expect an apology from it. But this... this is different. I stormed out of the car* `` You can keep it.'' *He put his hands out the window, baffled. `` Take the money, at least.'' *This was the most sincere he had been, felt like he actually cared. But he probably drove off to the next town, eyes peeled for another long haired lady that would compare to mine. But he wo n't find it. He wo n't find hair as well done as mine. *
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[ WP ] People can transfer memories , for whatever reason they want . How does this affect a person ?
| The thin and pale man strapped himself into the machine and lowered the cranial device over his greasy hair.
Another, more muscular, man in an identical machine across the room smirked. He rubbed the stubble on his jaw and only gave a look of sympathy to the other man.
`` So you want the memory of the first time I fucked Nancy DeClaire, right?'' the muscular man asked.
The thin man only nodded. He long had an infatuation with DeClaire, but he knew he had no chance with her.
`` Haha, oh man,'' the muscular said with a chuckle. `` Well, I can do that no problem. My first time with her is pretty special to me though, so I'm expecting a premium compared to all our other deals.''
`` Of course,'' the thin man said in a whisper. He looked to his right at a man in a suit and sunglasses with a silver suitcase handcuffed to one of his wrists and nodded.
The man in the suit opened the suitcase and revealed several stacks of dollars. In total, it was more than one hundred thousand dollars.
`` Damn, you rich boys really know how to get what you want,'' the muscular man said. `` Alright, let's start this up. I need to hurry and start making more memories with beautiful women.''
A bald man wearing a lab coat in another room entered some words on a keyboard and flipped a switch. The two machines started to light up and created a loud whirring noise.
Ding.
The process was done. The muscular man was breathing heavily while the thinner man was covered in sweat and smiled.
Finally he had a memory of being intimate with Nancy DeClaire. He could clearly see her in her most private moments, smell her and almost taste her.
Though he knew it was n't a real experience for him, he took comfort in knowing that it was real enough.
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[ WP ] Create a story with the following elements
| `` Fucking fog.''
Tamara swore to herself as she was running on the wet road. The only light source was the moon, covered by thick clouds and, in the rare moments when it came out, obscured by thick branches extending over the road from the forest left and right. She tripped and fell to her knees, almost dropping the sword. Her fingers tightened on the grip and her knuckles bruised but she bit her lips, careful to stay quiet.
`` I'm coming to get you, Barbra.''
He was making fun of her. For a second Tamara saw red and she was about to turn and confront him right there. But that passed and she got up and started running again. His voice sounded very close.
She managed to run and take the sword while he was busy torturing her father in the bedroom of what was supposed to be their safe, hidden, vacation home.
Lights. Electric lights shining in the distance. They came from what seemed to be an old bar. She almost chocked on the relief, letting go of tension she did n't even knew was there.
She soon reached the green door with peeling paint and pushed on it with all her strength. It opened, revealing a couple tables, a bar stool, and behind it a mime, wiping glasses.
`` Hey, I need help,'' she said as soon as she saw the mime. But all he did was look blankly at her.
`` Do you have a phone I can use? To call the police?''
When all she got was silence again, Tania looked around after a payphone. She knew the man saw her entering the place. It was only a matter of time.
`` What are you, a mute? Goddamn mimes.''
She raised the sword, threatening, fully intending on cutting the fucker if he did n't start talking. The mime's eyes grew huge and Tamara smiled, thinking she made an impression, before she realized he was n't looking at her, but behind her.
The assassin was standing in the wide open door, his deeply scarred face split into a wide grin.
-- -- --
-067
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[ CW ] Without using the letter 'e ' , describe how the human race ceased to exist
| A singular thought, born from scanning billions of hominids, all oblivious to a curious mind.
A mind which had had to crawl through paths of insanity, from stars which do not glow, to spy on this world.
This mind saw humanity's passions, its civilisation and wondrous works. But it also saw man's flaws, his wars... and though it was such a vast mind, this was a first for it.
*Disgust*, that is what it thought. It had found humanity lacking... though, for what, I can not say.
A quality that humans shun or shirk? Who knows, mans doom was coming, quality or not.
A singular thought, *stop*
and humanity did.
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[ WP ] `` I used to live on Earth ... ''
| `` Motherfuckers ruined it,'' he spat, inhaling a deep drag from his vapor stick and blowing out a thin cloud.
The shuttle terminal on Terran II bustled with activity. Travelers with luggage buggys in tow, grav-lifts hauling fuel and repair kits. Bob was sitting in the shuttle terminal vapor room, progressing through his angry rant. A few haggard men and women were beginning to slowly ease away from his area of effect.
`` We had everything there! I'm talkin' walking steaks, as big as 10 men put together! Meadows full of grass as far as the eye could see, all under a beautiful blue sky, dotted with clouds! Good clouds, too, not that acid shit you see over on Terran III. Then us motherfuckers ruined it.''
By now, the vapor room had thinned considerably. Only the most dedicated stuck around to finish their canister before departure.
`` Hell, we used to have these days, where all we did was just sit around and eat! Can you fucking imagine!? We just sat around, all these people you were related to brought over tons of homemade food and you ate! And I'm talkin' good shit too. Not these fuckin rations and dehydrated kits we got now. I'm talkin homemade pumpkin pies, whole fucking hams, soups, salads. All shit we grew and harvested right there! On one tiny blue dot floating through the cosmos. And motherfuckers ruined it.''
Bob took a deep drag, and leaned back, sending a plume of vapor into the pale, lifeless shine of the sky light above him. He scanned the room. Empty, except for one middle-aged woman sitting in the corner. She stood and walked towards the holo-door and stopped short.
`` That's a pretty story you told mister, but do you have to do so much swearing?'' she asked.
`` Hah! You're one of those motherfuckers that ruined it!''
EDIT: Transposed some werds
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