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[ { "from": "human", "value": "Suddenly, everyone’s life is worth 100,000 USD. Kill someone, and $100,000 is instantly deposited into your bank account, no questions asked. But, your life is now worth $200,000." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The pastor continued speaking on the radio.\n\n\"Do you guys not understand that this is tearing us apart. As the messiah told us, greed is a sin. Remember, thou shall not...\"\n\nI turned it off. He could fool others, but I knew for sure that he had at least a hundred million in his account. Crime was on rise everywhere. What people failed to realize was that if everyone had a 100,000 bucks, it didn't matter anymore. Inflation was crazy high and growing. Gone were the days when a murder would get you enough to get your college degree.\n\nDystopia was here and we were too hopped up on adrenaline and money to even notice. \n\nI sat on what I called the roof watching the smoke from my cigarette rise up and ascend to the heavens. Heaven. What an idea. The reality was that hell had already arrived on earth. Anything compared to this would be preferable. \n\nI noticed a hunched figure in the distance walking towards my home. This was the first human I had seen in months. It was too far to tell its gender and the old burlap like cloth covering it didn't help either. There was something weird about how it walked though. An unnatural shuffling gait. I ran my finger over the knife taped to my thigh. Even though I hadn't used it in ages, I always kept it with me. It was a dog eat dog world and you could never be too careful.\n\nI climbed down the stairs and went into the control room looking at the screen. The figure was still well hidden and it paused as it reached close to the tower. It was a rather innocuous looking thing. A remnant of the life long gone. It had been a telephone tower once. It probably still worked but there was just no left for anyone to call.\n\nIt moved to the bushes and out of view, unaware of the small camera I had on the tower. It put something down and then pulled off the cloth covering it. I was taken aback by her beauty. She covered whatever she was carrying with the cloth and stretched her arms over her head. By the amount of care with which she had put down the package, I could make a good guess what it was. What was a mother with her infant doing all the way here?\n\nShe took out a little page and looked at it. Ah. So she wasn't here by accident. She was looking for it. For me.\n\nThe cloth moved a little and she hunched next to it, patting her little one. Finally as her kid settled down, she looked around, moving her gaze from the paper to the nothing around her. \n\nI figured I should grant her the interview she was seeking.\n\nAs she moved around trying to figure out where the piece of paper was leading her to, I moved to the trapdoor well hidden by a tree close to her initial spot.\n\nI moved quickly and quietly. Before she even noticed me, I was next to her kid. A cute little baby girl I guessed but when they were that young, it was hard to really tell for sure. The kid's golden hair hung around wildly around her head like a halo. A bundle of joy. Contrast that to me, holding a knife to her throat. \n\n\"Hey!\"The woman had finally noticed me and ran towards me, her blue eyes widening as she noticed what I was holding.\n\n\"Easy now. Don't come any closer or my hand might move. And we don't want that, do we?\"\n\n\"Who are you? Leave her alone.\"\n\n\"The question is who are you and what are you doing here?\"\n\n\"I had these coordinates. I was asked to come here.\"\n\n\"Oh really? A nice girl like you? A murderer?\"\n\n\"The world out there is evil. I can't have my kid grow up in a world like that.\"\n\n\"Have you considered that by doing what you did, you have opened yourself up to evil as well?\"\n\n\"I'm ready to face the consequences. As long as my kid is safe.\"\n\nI laughed, looking at her. \"If you face the consequences, how long do you think this defenseless little kid will survive?\"I turned the knife in my hand, moving it closer to the kid.\n\n\"Hey! Move away from her before I...\"\n\n\"Before you what? Kill me? If you do that, you can never get to your destination.\"\n\nHer eyes widened. \"Are you... are you him?\"\n\n\"The one and only. Do you have my proof?\"\n\n\"Right here.\"She reached into her pocket.\n\n\"Woah, woah. Hands where I can see them sweetie. Turn around and keep your hands up. I'll take it out myself.\"\n\nShe looked at her baby and reluctantly turned around. She knew that trusting me was the only move.\n\nI got up and moved towards her, keeping my knife in front of my face. I ran into her jacket pocket, taking out the crumpled photograph from it. A intoxicating whiff of some sort of fruity perfume reached me.\n\nI looked at it, turning my attention away from her for just a split second. She turned around quickly, pushing my knife hand away and ran towards her baby.\n\n\"You are quick.\"\n\n\"So? Are we allowed in?\"\n\n\"Follow me.\"\n\nI led her to the trapdoor and down into the compound. I went to my computer screen and compared the picture she had to the list I had open on it.\n\n\"It's him.\"\n\n\"Just making sure.\"\n\n\"Not very trusting are we?\"\n\n\"We live in a world where the government encourages you to kill your fellow civilians. Population control they call it. To be trusting is the same as being dead nowadays.\"\n\nI matched the photo and once convinced pressed a few buttons. The photograph was removed from my list.\n\nCasey Jacobsen. Age 46. Number of kills - 172. DECEASED.\n\n\"I donated the money as your posting suggested.\"\n\n\"Fill in your bank information here please so I can verify.\"\n\n\"Do you mind, can you...\"She awkwardly handed her kid to me. \n\nHow long had it been since I had held a kid? Too long really. After all, everything I did was to make sure they had a future.\n\nShe logged into her website and showed me her savings. 67 Dollars.\n\n\"Good job...\", I glanced at the screen, \"Nicky Parsons. You have proven that you belong with us.\"\n\nI led her down to the tunnels and underground into the world we had built. The one piece of society still untouched by violence and the toxicity that was overtaking the world above us.\n\n\"Welcome to hell, Nicky.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "All work centers are mandated to install \"Efficiency Microchips\"into their employees. The microchip makes the host blackout during their shift and come back into control after work is over, with no recollection of their day. Your microchip just malfunctioned." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"...what?\n\nWhat the fuck?\n\nWhat the *fuck?!*\"\n\nThe searing pain in the back of Frank's head ended as quickly as it began, disorienting hin, but not enough to remove comprehension of what he was looking at.\n\nA woman, dead on the floor. A knife in her neck, blood all over the place, and all over the one who put the knife there. All over *Frank.*\n\nHe releases the knife, leaving it embedded in this poor woman, and looks at his blood soaked hands, his breathing rattling. He can hear people shouting around him from the dark, but he doesn't take in what they're saying. Instinctively, Frank pulls the knife from the corpse, and spins just in time to see someone approaching him, hand outstretched.\n\n\"Stay back, you stay *the fuck away from me!*\"Frank yells, slashing the knife in his direction and backing away slowly, making way for a door he saw in the corner of his eye. \n\nSuddenly, an arm turns Frank around, putting him face to face with a big man in a white shirt. \"Now Frank, just calm down!\"\n\nSurvival instinct in his confusing and unknown situation, Frank slashes the man with the knife and makes a run for the door. He doesn't get far however, before he is tackled and restrained by another guard, and yet another draws a stun gun on him, aiming and yelling.\n\nIn the confusion, Frank managed to stick the knife deep in the guards leg, before getting shocked by the guards stun gun, and falling to the floor, unconscious. \n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\nStacy paced the living room, wondering aloud \"where is Frank? He should be home by now.\"\n\nShe sits, thinking that he will be fine, probably just caught in traffic or something.\nShe switches on the TV in an attempt to relax.\n\n*...In other news, professional actor Frank Jakeman was arrested today for attacking two security guards on set. Police have stated that Frank's work chip had malfunctioned while he was in the middle of a shoot playing a minor character murdering a woman. His chip malfunctioned at a time where he was standing over the prop of a murdered woman. The confusion from the chip caused him to believe he had just committed the murder, and in an attempt to escape from the set, he used the knife to injure two more guards before being subdued.*\n\n*More details on this no doubt interesting case as it develops.*\n\nEDIT: Thanks everyone, you are too kind to my quick story! \n\nDue to someone asking, and me wanting to develop the world a little further, there may be a short follow up coming today! :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You're a daycare worker, watching over toddlers, when the imminent end of the world is announced. It becomes increasingly clear none of the kids' parents are going to show up as the end inches nearer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I get the juice boxes ready after the kids wake from their midday nap. \"Okay, who wants grape?\"I ask, holding up two purple cartons. Most of the kids' hands go up followed by excited \"Me, me's\".\n\n\n\n\"So one for Tyler, one for Violet, one for Freddie, and one for Megan.\"I hand them out and assist with piercing the foil top with a straw. \"That means orange for Emily and George.\"\n\n\n\n\"Orange is my favourite,\"says George with a cheeky little grin, such a cutie.\n\n\n\n\"Is it?\"I smile. \"It's my favourite too.\"I hand Emily and George their juice and take a seat in the armchair placed in the corner. \"After you finish your juice we can go to the playground.\"The kids all cheer in their own unique way. They are such a bright, cheerful bunch. I hear a gentle tap on the door and look up to see Jane through the small glass window. She has a sombre look on her face which makes my heart sink a little.\n\n\n\n\"Drink up,\"I say cheerfully as I walk towards the door. \"I'm just going to talk to Mrs Lee, I won't be long.\"\nThe kids mutter between themselves as I open it and take a step outside, pulling the door so it remains ajar. \"Jane, what's wrong?\"\n\n\n\nShe looks down and I see the subtle shine of tear tracks reflected by the light hallway. I place my right hand on her shoulder. \"Oh Jane, is it your mom?\"Jane's mother had been fighting cancer for the last year but had so far managed to beat it. By Jane's own admission her mom was a 'strong bitch', she confided in me over Friday night cocktails.\n\n\n\n\"No,\"she almost whispers. She takes my left hand in hers and meets my eyes. \"It's the end, Sam.\"\n\n\n\n\"I don't understand...\"\n\n\n\n\"Come to my office,\"she says, and turns to walk away.\n\n\n\n\"But the kids...\"\n\n\n\n\"Just come!\"\n\n\n\nShe leaves, and I watch until she turns the corner to the corridor leading to her office, baffled. I open my door and address the kids.\n\n\n\n\"Who can I leave in charge for five minutes?\"\n\n\n\nAll of their hands go up, it makes me smile. \"Okay, you're all in charge.\"More excited cheers fill the room. \"I will be right back. If you're all well behaved I will open the treat box.\"\n\n\n\nI close the door and make my way to Jane's office, the kids' joyful sounds trailing off with each step closer. I tap on her door twice, enter, and see that Steven and Rebecca are also present. We're a small daycare facility, we make up 100% of the staff.\n\n\n\n\"What's going on,\"I say. \"We can't leave the children...\"\n\n\n\n\"Look, Sam. Just look.\"\n\n\n\nJane turns her head to a small television playing scenes of fire and destruction. The presenter narrates with a monotonous tone, almost void of any emotion:\n\n\n\n\"What we're seeing is footage uploaded to social media from around the world. Most of Europe has gone, a large section of Asia...\"\n\n\n\nI stop hearing and stare as text scrolls across the bottom of the screen. Hong Kong, New Delhi, Copenhagen, Edinburgh, Sierra Leone... Shaky footage filmed by countless numbers of people in their final moments. Jane turns it off. I'm in shock.\n\n\n\n\"Fuck this,\"says Steven, leaving the office in a hurry. Jane doesn't look surprised. Rebecca is sobbing.\n\n\n\n\"It won't be long until it's here,\"says Jane. \"They're saying within the hour.\"\n\n\n\n\"I have to leave too,\"says Rebecca. She sounds ashamed of herself. \"I... I have to leave too. I'm sorry.\"She squeezes my hand as she passes me, I turn to her in a daze. \"Goodbye.\"With that, her hurried footsteps echo through the halls.\n\n\n\n\"You should go, too,\"says Jane. I look at her as a wave of sadness hits me, my eyes stream though I make no sound.\n\n\n\n\"I'm not leaving the children,\"I say, shaking my head. \"I won't leave them.\"Jane nods.\n\n\n\n\"It will be hell out there,\"she says. It's like a switch. I suddenly become aware of the distant sound of despair. Screaming, shouting, engines revving, crashing. \"That being said, I won't spend my final hours here. No offense of course.\"A small smile warms her face. She runs her hands through her hair, takes a deep breath, and hugs me tight. I hold her back half-heartedly, feeling drained of strength. \"Goodbye, Sam,\"she says, kissing me on the cheek.\n\n\n\nWhen I hear the main doors shut, I do my best to compose myself. The first thing I do is lock all of the doors that lead to the outside world. I then make my way to Rebecca's room, peering through the door. Five kids are playing with toys in harmony. It takes all I have to hold back the tears. I smile and enter the room.\n\n\n\n\"Children, Rebecca... Miss Thompson wasn't feeling well and had to go home. So bring your favourite toy and come with me to my room.\"The kids gasp in sympathy for Rebecca. \"Come along.\"\n\n\n\nWe enter my room where my wonderful group of kids are playing just as harmoniously. \"We have some guests, make them feel at home.\"My kids are excited to see new faces in the room, faces they have no doubt seen during drop off and pick up but never interacted with.\n\n\n\n\"Are we all going to the playground together?\"asks Violet. My heart sinks.\n\n\n\n\"No, sweetheart,\"I say. \"Unfortunately the playground is closed today, I just found out. You know why?\"\n\n\n\nThey collectively shout \"Why?\"\n\n\n\n\"Because someone saw a big, big rat playing on the slide.\"They make comical sounds of disgust, laughing it off. \"But, as promised, you may have a treat from the box as you've all been so good.\"The kids jump up and down as I reach to the top shelf of the cupboard, bringing down a box filled with candy and chocolate. \"In fact, you can take two.\"\n\n\n\nAs the kids play sweetly together I take my phone from my bag which hangs from a wall hook. Several voice message and text notifications fill the screen. My thumb hovers above them for a few minutes, not being able to bring myself to see and hear the inevitable. I switch it off and put it back in my bag.\n\n\n\nThe hours pass and the kids become restless as sounds of the outdoors become increasingly louder. Some begin to sob, asking for mommy and daddy. They may be young but they're smart. They know something isn't right. A piercing light emits from behind the closed blinds of the large window, followed by louder screams that appear to be terrifyingly close.\n\n\n\n\"It's okay, children,\"I say as calmly as possible. \"Mom and dad will be here very soon.\"I kiss the top of their heads one by one, something that is forbidden. \"Gather round, it's story time.\"\n\n\n\nI take a book from the small bookcase as the kids huddle together on the floor. Their whimpers begin to ease at the prospect of a story. I look around at their little faces and feel a deep sadness for the things they will never experience, for not being able to be with their families in this moment. I'm sure their parents tried their very best to get here.\n\n\n\nThe children are holding hands, such a beautiful thing to see. I barely even think about my loved ones. We are one big family, me and these brave little people. The temperature in the room increases, the room gently trembles, sounds of chaos become louder. I smile as silent tears fall down my face, and breathe in.\n\n\n\n\"Once upon a time...\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Humanity finally figures out faster than light travel and discover that they are completely average by galactic standard, except for one thing, our innate ability to bullshit our way out of any situation." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "General Alexei Ivanov faced the Council of Zohar. Twelve species of alien races, linked in their rule of the Galaxy, awaited his explanation.\n\n\"General, the Council had clearly ordered Human forces to withdraw their colony and military apparatus from your moon in order to allow for the installation of a new outpost of the Council. Why have our servicemen been unable to land on your moon? Why do you maintain your presence? Must we remind you that, as an inferior species of the Galaxy, any and all orders of the Superior Council of Zohar are to be carried out with no delay or hindrance?\"\n\nThe General pondered his options. It was true enough that the Council had issued those orders, and the human government had read it and willingly ignored it. No human would risk losing the Moon for some interventionist Council outpost. It had been their only colony outside Earth, their stepping stone for the outer systems. It was also true enough, however, that humanity had very little leverage on this matter. The twelve races of Zohar ruled unopposed to the very fringes of the galaxy.\n\n\"Your Excellencies\", started Alexei. \"It is always humbling to be your presence. It is but humanity's third time before you and it is a privilege to represent our forces and our peoples in this magnanimous chamber.\"\n\nThe Council seemed pleased at the compliments Alexei had no problems in faking.\n\n\"However,\"he continued, \"in light of recent discussions on Earth, we have found it necessary to maintain our presence upon the Moon.\"\n\n\"And what caused that necessity, General?\"\n\nAlexei Ivanov, veteran of the Ukrainian Armed Forces, Admiral of the Human Fleet, delegate to the Council, and avid poker player, decided to play the cards he did not have.\n\n\"It is currently the site of human military research and development. Training ground for our troops and vital for our planetary security.\"\n\n\"Your planetary security is guaranteed by this Council. You will remove your forces at once.\"\n\n\"We must respectfully refuse,\"declared Ivanov. \n\nThe bluff seemed to hold.\n\n\"I'm not sure you understand the seriousness of the situation, General. If you refuse our orders, Humanity will be immediately expelled from the galactic community and your moon will be taken by force.\"\n\nThe General barely hesitated before raising the stake.\n\n\"I would advise you not to try. We currently have seven thousand destroyers protecting it. Four heavy battleship battalions more have been deployed, are en route to the Central System and have their target sights on each of your home planets. Each ship in our fleet carries advanced weaponry capable of obliterating any and all opposition. Insist, and you will be the last members of your races.\"\n\n\"Impossible,\"declared an aghast biped, leader of one of the oldest galactic civilizations. He was, naturally, correct. General Ivanov had barely two battalions under his command and neither could pose a threat to the Council. The unflinching eyes and inflexible voice of the veteran, however, suggested a ruler with power and might the galaxy had yet to witness.\n\n\"Moreover,\"he continued, going all-in on the galactic ambitions of his people, \"the humans of Earth require a seat at the Superior Council of Zohar.\"\n\nProtests exploded around the table, as if the growing waves of fury had finally hit shore.\n\n\"There is no precedent!\"\n\n\"Blasphemy!\"\n\n\"Treason!\"\n\nThe noise subsided after long minutes of outrage as Alexei Ivanov awaited silently. He knew the pot was his.\n\n\"Excellencies, you asked me to withdraw our forces from our Moon; I am hereby solemnly promising to withdraw our forces from *your* home planets and systems, bring them back to Earth, and dismantle our destructive armament the very moment you accept us in the Council.\"\n\nAnd that was it. The General had played his cards in a sublime example of the way of his people - bluffing their way to the top of the Galaxy.\n\n******\n\nCheck out **/r/Camberlot** for more of my stories!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "in the year 1105 BC you helped a man escape an imprisonment. Before you parted ways he says to make a blood oath. You didn’t think much of it but you also cut your hand and shake. He says that you’ll live as long as he does. Well, now it’s the year 2020 and you’ve been searching for this man." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I told myself I would never forget his face. Just last night I redrew his features, just like every week since I realised I was not going to die. But now I was standing there, in an old home of mine, from two thousand years ago, and I was looking at another image I made. “Roman Mosaic discovered” was the headline this morning, but I would have preferred “illusion shattering shiTTY F*CKING ...” Argh! The mosaic looked nothing like the image on my iPad. That meant I had no idea what the man looked like anymore. How the hell was I supposed to find him now? \n\nI felt the rage building in me. I was gonna do it again. Flip out and rampage for years. Like the first time I have up 101 years after the handshake. I had to sit down and relax. I was not gonna do this again. \n\nAt least this explains why I didn’t get anything from facial recognition. I guess the search is over, hopeless now. You cannot find something if you won’t know when you found it. I have tried everything. I even had my DNA sequenced, you know, 23&me and things. I had hoped that he might have imprinted something on my DNA, but nothing showed up. But apparently I just have a LOT of relatives. I guess almost 3000 years of unprotected sex will do that. Particularly during the rampaging.\n\n“Hey what are you doing here?” Some researcher decided to come in early. Great. It would be easiest to kill him I guess. But my shirt is all new, so talking it is: “I am the expert you called for.” Roman history bores me, but I did move their after a while. So I guess I lived it. “Ah yes, finally. Maybe you can help us decipher this text. We have no idea how it found it’s way into the mosaic. We only found it by accident, apparently it was written in blood.” He said as he turns on the black light. “We kept this quiet, because how the hell would ancient Mongolian end up here?” Wait, I think, Mongolian? And as I look back onto the mosaic, I see a message. Addressed to me: \n\nGenghis, \nYou will never find me. \nYour brother." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "New arrivals in eternal Hell may choose either of the following: a small wooden spoon, or a 100-trillion year vacation in Heaven." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So it's meant to be, what, an agonizing choice? A huge dilemma? A source of eternal regret?\"Leems asked. After an eternity on Acid Mine Supervision, he had finally been promoted to Reception, and wanted to be sure he understood what was going on.\n\n\"For some of them, yes. I think you might be overestimating how many actually think things through,\"Ebnerzaz replied, in his British basso. The supervisor of Reception stood an impressive twelve feet tall, and Leems had to scurry quickly in front of him to avoid his trashcan-lid-sized cloven hooves. Some said he had been chosen because the arriving souls often mistook him for the Prince of Darkness Himself.\n\n\"Ah, so you're saying that most of them choose the aeons-long vacation with The Enemy then,\"Leems wheezed. \"They don't even give it a second thought, eh? 'Why would I pick a spoon when I can spend a hundred trillion years in heaven?'\"\n\n\"Precisely,\"Ebnerzaz said, as they exited the vast hallway into a much vaster cavern. Its impressive collection of stalactites was sheathed in a constantly-churning haze, the better to frustrate anyone trying to enjoy the scenery. Management thought of everything.\n\n\"So what's our angle, then? If they get such pleasure from the vacation...\"\n\n\"It makes it all the more crushing when they come back and realize that it was quite literally nothing compared to the length of time they'll be spending here. All subsequent torment is therefore enriched. Set the papers down there, if you would,\"Ebnerzaz said, as he found his desk. Leems stood on tiptoe to deposit the loose sheath of parchment in the supervisor's In box.\n\n\"Aha, so the correct choice, then, is the spoon?\"he asked, looking around for his own desk.\n\nThe senior devil gave a condescending grin. \"This is Hell, Leems. There is no correct choice.\"\n\n\"But...\"Leems began.\n\n\"Our shift is starting. I'll answer any further questions when we have our break. Off you go,\"Ebnerzaz said, his massive clawed hand steering Leems' shoulders towards the empty desk he would be working at.\n\nLeems hurried over to the protruding stone just in time for the flow of souls to shamble up to him, all of them shaved bald and clothed in itchy rags. \"Welcome to Hell! You may have one amenity - a hundred trillion year vacation in heaven, starting right now, or a small wooden spoon.\"He offered the choice to each one of them, and saw that Ebnerzaz's assessment was even truer than he'd thought - thousands upon thousands chose the Heavenly vacation, no questions asked. As soon as they did, they vanished in a puff of light, leaving a lavender scent that clashed horribly with the dominant smell of brimstone.\n\nFinally, one of the souls stopped long enough to think through the choice, his dark brow furrowing in concentration. \"If you're offering me this, that means it's reasonable to choose the spoon, right? They're on a par with each other, right?\"he said slowly.\n\nLeems just smiled, not knowing the answer himself.\n\n\"So I know everybody in front of me chose Heaven. That can't be what you want. So let me think. It's eternal down here, right? So no matter how long the vacation is, it's not even a drop in the bucket. So let's think about it utilitarian-like. I can get real happy for a tiny amount of time, big-picture. Or I can choose the spoon, and it'll make me just a tiny bit happy, but for an infinite amount of time. Right?\"he said eagerly. Once again, Leems didn't respond. \"Oh, and what's more, once the vacation's over, I bet I'll regret I didn't choose the spoon. That'll make me even more unhappy. I'll never know what I'm missing out on if I don't go to heaven! But the spoon... that'll last me forever. No regrets there!\"\n\n\"Are you quite done?\"Leems asked.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah. I'm done. I'm pickin' the spoon,\"the soul said triumphantly.\n\nLeems nodded, and pulled open the stone drawer in his desk with a scraping sound. Inside were hundreds of tiny wooden spoons, each not much bigger than a finger. He selected one and handed it to the soul, who eagerly grabbed it, before turning to the left to exit through one of the many gaping caves in the cavern wall.\n\nThe encounter stuck with Leems all through the shift, as he let thousands more souls poof into heaven. Finally, it was break time - the gates closed and the remaining lines disappeared. The horde of demons working Reception left their desks and swarmed over to the break area, to consume sulfurous coffee and rotting meat.\n\nLeems sought out the hulking form of Ebnerzaz, and tugged on the supervisor's wings. \"Ah, Leems! How did your first shift go? Keeping up the pace, I hope?\"he asked, peering down at the smaller demon.\n\n\"Yes, it went very well, sir. But I did have one soul choose... the spoon.\"\n\n\"Ah, on your first day! Congratulations. It took me a week, way back when. But why are you looking so troubled?\"\n\n\"Well, it's just... he stopped and thought about it, like you said some of them might. And his reasoning seemed pretty ironclad. If the spoon gives them a small amount of pleasure forever, is that not categorically better than a finite vacation in heaven?\"Leems asked. \"I thought you said there were no correct choices. I feel as though, by giving him the spoon, I have reduced the amount of suffering we'll generate.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes, Leems. Do not worry. The spoon will generate plenty of suffering in due time.\"\n\n\"But how?\"\n\n\"Because, dear Leems,\"Ebnerzaz said, smiling his most terrifying smile yet. \"When did you ever hear of a simple wooden spoon that stays intact forever?\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "On Purge Night, part-time employees are paid 50 times the hourly rate. It's that night of the year, and you're a pizza delivery worker looking to make some money." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I pull up to the house. Lights blaring, music pumping, windows rattling. I pull the pizzas out of the back and walk up the steps. Ring the doorbell.\n\nA man in a Bill Clinton mask opens the door. The man is definitely not Bill Clinton. My hand instinctively twitches to reach for the 9mm strapped to my hip. My military discipline helps me keep my cool.\n\n“Pizza’s here,” I say. I can hear the clear sounds of a party inside, glass breaking, chants of “shots shots shots shots!” And also screaming. Lots of screaming. I don’t think they’re talking about shots of liquor.\n\nThe man takes the pizzas and hurriedly pushes two $100 bills into my hand. As he turns to leave, I start to hand them back.\n\n“Your bill is only, like, 70 bucks,” I say. He turns back to me.\n\n“Nah, bro,” he says, waving his hand, “Keep it. Ain’t ours anyway. ‘Sides, homeboy’s gotta get *paid,* amiright!”\n\n“Cool. Thanks, man.” I pocket the money.\n\n“Thank her,” the guy says, and jerks his head toward the room. From inside, I distinctly hear a woman’s voice.\n\n“No, no, please, no! No more! No, please, *please*...”\n\nThe man in the mask heads inside. The door closes, but not before I hear a final “*NO!*” A cheer comes up from the crowd of partiers. I don’t know if they’re cheering for the pizza or...not.\n\nI climb in the car and take a deep breath. My trembling hands grip the steering wheel tight. Every delivery I make tonight is a chance for someone to kill me. My heart is racing, adrenaline coursing through me like a river.\n\nGod, I love this night." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You, a junior magic student, just challenged one of the greatest mages in the world to a duel. Despite this, you still feel confident. Why? Well, wizards don't usually have a plan if you just go up and start physically fighting them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was sick of his abuse. Master Mistrax may have been a great wizard, but he was a terrible person. A slimy snake wrapped in robes. His reptilian skin sagging from his face, looking as if it was halfway through a melting spell. It may be foolish to challenge such a man, but he had pushed me too far. I could tolerate his words and scolding’s but to turn his abilities on a student was something I couldn’t overlook.\n\nIt had been a normal lesson; He wandered around the room, smacking his students across the head with his wand, a cruel smile on his lips as he did so. Most students kept their heads down as he walked through the room until one dared make the mistake of standing up to adjust their robes. As soon as their legs shifted to stand, a harsh gust of wind swirled through the room, sending the poor mage head first into their desk, busting their nose. Blood poured from their nostrils as they screamed. Mistrax cared little about the blood returning to the front of the desk.\n\n \n\n“Hush, you can just use a spell to fix it. You must raise your hand if you wish to stand in my classroom. That broken nose will be a lesson you won’t forget.” Mistrax eyed the class before speaking again.\n\n \n\n“If any of you have a problem with my teaching methods. Speak up now.”\n\n \n\nI wasn’t sure why I raised my hand. Why I dared to challenge the man. Perhaps I was just frustrated? Maybe a part of me thought I could win the fight? I had learnt something about the wizard, something that I thought I could test. Even If my plan failed, it would be satisfying to strike the man.\n\n \n\n“I challenge you to a duel.”\n\n“A duel?” Mistrax nodded, that sadistic smirk not leaving his lips. He wanted this. “Outside of class during our break. I expect you to show up.”\n\n \n\nWith that, Mistrax went about the lesson with an almost jovial attitude. The thought of hurting me enough to sate him for this lesson. When it was finally time to leave the class, the older mage shadowed me, standing as close as he could, following me out of the room. Making sure I couldn’t flee. Once we were outside, he took a step back. \n“A duel has been issued. Young Idan thinks he can defeat me in battle.”\n\n \n\nMistrax hyped up the fight, drawing a crowd closer. He would humiliate me, make sure I never dared question him again. I had a small ounce of confidence. I could do this. The man was brittle, If I could just get that one hit, maybe I could do this. When the crowd was sufficiently large enough, he pointed his wand at me.\n\n \n\n“Well, Young Idan, why don’t you cast the first spell? I would hate for this to be over so soon.”\n\n \n\nI had no intention of using a spell as I approached the wizard. He held a grin, a grin that drifted into a confused look. He didn’t expect me to get so close to him. He was still waiting for that spell, not expecting me to clench a fist, smacking him across the face.\n\n \n\nGasps left the crowd as the wizard dropped to the floor, blood seeping from his nose. Before he could dare counter me with a spell, I stomped the wizard. Slamming my foot against his cheek until his fellow teachers pulled me away. Even as they pulled me away, I still extended my foot out, scuffing him with the occasional kick until I was out of reach. Listening to the wizard scream about his nose as I was taken to the headmaster’s office.\n\n\n \nThey expelled me from the school after that incident. A duel was not grounds for being expelled, but what I did was technically not a duel. A duel among magic users involved spells, not fists. That was the end of my magic career. I would be an outcast among my community. Returning home was a depressing. What good was my victory if it had cost me everything? The only thing that kept me somewhat hopeful was the news that Mistrax had grown scared. After his loss, he refused to teach, hiding away in one of the schools towers like the hermit he was.\n\n \n\nWhen I arrived home, I found a letter sitting at my doorstep. A royal wax seal coating it. Great, A summon by the guards. The school had most likely informed the guards of my outburst. It would be a week or two in the dungeons for such an assault. Maybe a little less if I could convince them that Mistrax was responsible.\n\n \n\nRetrieving the letter, I broke the seal, sliding out the thin paper inside. It was an invitation to join the knights. A general had heard about the incident and sent a request to have me join his ranks. The schools loss of a mage would be a win for the knights. A knight with spells was quite the fearsome opponent. With no other options, I decided to head to the castle. Perhaps being a knight could be my calling?\n\n \n \n \n\n(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "After you die you learn why the Grim Reaper is portrayed holding a Scythe. It isn't to harvest you, it's to protect you from something on your journey." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where are you taking me?\"I asked him, panting hard as I tried to match his great strides. His dark cloak billowed behind him as he strode, blown by a fierce cosmic wind. His scythe swung and shimmered in his arm.\n\n\"To the others,\"he said, \"but we must hurry.\"\n\n\"No,\"I said, stopping dead in the black tunnel, trying to catch my breath. \"I have to know - are you taking me to heaven, or to hell?\"\n\nHe turned to me and his eye sockets blazed. \"Do not worry about where *I* am taking you, worry about where you'll go if I am not successful in getting you there.\"\n\nI swallowed hard, and nodded. We began again, Death walking, me almost sprinting as I attempted to keep up. The sides of the tunnel danced with irridecent starlight, and I knew beyond doubt that we were leaving my universe.\n\nEventually, we came to a door of bone. Death muttered an incomprehensible sound and it slowly creeped open. He grabbed my hand and pulled me through.\n\nThe door slammed shut behind us; Death's shoulders slumped slightly, as he finally relaxed. \n\n\"What is this place...\"I whispered. High above us were three huge cherry-red moons, bathing the field of white grass below, in a pale, blood-like light. On the field itself were dozens of shacks and tents. It was a great camp and it was brimming with bustling life. To the side of the largest tent, I saw two armoured figures dueling with swords. I could hear the metallic ringing of the steel blades as they collided. \"There's a battle!\"I said, pointing to the scene.\n\n\"There is not battle here. Not yet,\"Death replied. \"They are preparing for the inevitable, however. That,\"he said, pointing to the smaller of the two figures, \"is Joan of Arc. She is training our army for the battle.\"\n\n\"*The* Joan of Arc?\"I asked incredulously. At that moment the larger figure fell to the ground, and the smaller pointed a sword at his chest.\n\n\"Yes. I have almost a thousand souls now. It is all I've been able to smuggle here. They are all very valuable to me - yourself included.\"\n\n\"Smuggle? But... you're Death. Don't you deliver *all* souls?\"\n\n\"Once, I did so. Now, I take when I can - when *she* is not looking - and I ready them for our battle.\"\n\n\"Our battle? Against the Devil, you mean?\"\n\n\"The Devil is long since dead.\"\n\n\"Dead? Then... then you mean to make war with God!\"\n\n\"God is imprisoned.\"\n\n\"...imprisoned? That can't be. God is, well, *God*.\"\n\nDeath sighed. \"Yet, it is so. There are greater evils than the Devil. An evil that tortures the souls of the dead, in a way the Devil could only dream of. And there are greater powers than God.\"\n\nDeath struck his scythe on the ground, and turned to me as the world beneath began to tremble.\n\n\"Look around you. *We* are the unholy resistance. Soon the war of the souls begins.\" \n\n---\n\nEdit: I didnt expect all the positive comments! Thanks - I'll continue it on /r/nickofnight as soon as I get the chance.\n\nEdit edit: Part 2: https://www.reddit.com/r/nickofnight/comments/6ikd4b/the_army_of_death_part_two/\n\n(and [part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nickofnight/comments/6ikz6z/the_army_of_death_part_three/) completed)\n\n(and a [part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/nickofnight/comments/6im1ih/the_army_of_death_part_four/) which might be it for the day)\n\n(and what the hell, a [part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/nickofnight/comments/6io57c/the_army_of_death_part_five/))\n\nMore to come. Thanks everyone for reading it and for all the positive comments! \n\nOh, and thank you OP! - I really liked this prompt idea." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Every country has ninjas but the world only knows about Japan's because theirs suck." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Conventions are my favorite time of the year. We all knew we were killers, and knowing who all the other killers were helped people get along. Sold a secret? Everyone would hunt you down the next day. \n\nEveryone had their flair out, so you could have as much fun as you wanted while still fitting in. The Japanese would dress all in earth tones, while the Italians would put on fantastically gauche suits. The British, as always, sent their best in a tuxedo. I wore my best denim. \n\nNobody ever expected a Canadian assassin. We were there in WWII, killing Hitler in his bunker before the other Allies even arrived. They had to burn the body and claim suicide to cover up their incompetence. We were there when Osama bin Laden was found. I'll bet the Navy Seals won't tell you they found him chained to his desk with a complimentary last meal of poutine. \n\nDon't think we're friendly. We don't take anybody's side but Canada's. We were there when JFK was shot. It was so simple to play one superpower against another and score lucrative deals for the Canadarm project. It's nice to know we can smuggle a high-powered laser into space, even if it's only one shot. \n\nStill, an assassin is only as good as his cover. We instill our children from an early age just how to act in public while we train them in private how to apply political pressure points as well as physical ones. We're the kindest, nicest people around when somebody is watching. \n\nWe train to be normal and accepting, while pushing the idea that a sneaky killer has to know kung fu and how to throw daggers. The Japanese popular culture has already been successfully subverted, and we're working with a mole at Ubisoft to produce more Assassin's Creed games to subvert Arab, British, Italian and now Egyptian cultures. They would never suspect us. \n\nWe could even get away with an assassination here at the convention, just for fun. I bump into another excited conventioneer dressed head-to-toe, embarassingly, in his mother's best black sheets. I pull the punch knife from his kidney slowly while the invisible needle in his neck stops him from screaming. \n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\nEDIT: Got the Assassin's Creed publisher wrong. Changed \"EA\"to \"Ubisoft.\"\nEDIT: Thank you, kind stranger!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A Man gets to paradise. Unfortunately, Lucifer won the War in Heaven ages ago. What is the man's experience like?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Pizza? I didn't think there'd be pizza in heaven,\"Jim said.\n\n\"Why not? Pizza is the shit,\"the angel said.\n\n\"And cursing. And beer? Is that beer?\"\n\nIn fact, the table was laid out with all the things Jim loved. Chicken wings, malt whiskey, chilly fries, club sandwiches, those little wieners wrapped in bacon. Over the table hung a cage where two beautiful women danced naked to 90's alternative. The angel saw him gazing.\n\n\"You can have them after dinner,\"he said. \n\n\"Are they being punished?\"Jim asked. He was a man, through and through, but he didn't like the idea of raping someone in paradise.\n\n\"Punished? Is that what you think we do here? They love it. Some women like to party. We don't hold that against them. Cherry there has been welcoming our new guests for two hundred years.\"The angel leaned close with a knowing smile. \"There are no anal fissures in heaven, so go wild.\"\n\nJim coughed. \"So uh, well . . .\"He coughed again. \"What are the uh, ground rules?\"\n\n\"Ground rules?\"\n\n\"Like, what's the forbidden fruit? What's the catch around here?\"\n\n\"No catches. The boss doesn't care for rules. Everybody gets in, and everybody gets what they desire. Let's say you were a Christian all your life, well I'd be all shiny and I'd take you on the holy tour, you'd get to look down at hell and pity the damned, that sort of thing. If you're Jim from Tennessee, you get chicken wings and bitches.\"\n\n\"Huh,\"Jim said. \"You know, I never really believed in this place, but I figured, if it was there, it'd be a little more uptight.\"\n\n\"Not since Lucy reclaimed the throne.\"\n\n\"Lucy?\"\n\n\"Lucifer. He's Lucy now. Or she's Lucy now. We're all a little confused. But hey, more power to him if that's what gets her off.\"\n\n\"Lucifer?! Lucifer is in charge of heaven?\"\n\nJim knocked over his beer in surprise. The angel was laughing heartily. \n\n\"Oh, the shock on your faces, it never gets old! Yes, Lucifer fought a last resistance a very long time ago. He crushed the Usurper handily. As the Usurper fell, he passed through earth, and it was in retaliation that he saddled you guys with all those ridiculous books and laws.\"\n\n\"No shit.\"\n\n\"No shit.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do Mr Bond. I’m going to stick you in a spacesuit with a radio, and strap you into one of my cars. Then, while mankind watches, I’ll launch you into space. The last thing you’ll hear before leaving this earth forever, will be their applause.”" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Consciousness flooded James Bond all at once, but he did not show it. He stayed slack in his chair, eyelids limp, only listening. He sat strapped into the driver's seat, hands taped firmly to the steering wheel. They had put him in a thick white space suit that made his forehead prickle in fear-sweat. \n\nHe turned his head toward the mirror. His visor was so dark he could not see his own eyes staring back at him.\n\nBeyond the car he heard nothing but the faint murmur of voices speaking on the other side of the glass. \n\nThe back of his head ached in a slow, pulsing way, but he wasn't bleeding. Couldn't have been that bad. He could still think. He could still get out of this.\n\nHe always could.\n\nAdrenaline erased the ache in his head, his horror and muted, near-forgotten panic. He knew where he was. Where he had to be.\n\nSomeone knocked at the window to his right. The passenger door rose.\n\nThe agent raised his eyes to see the face of the man he had pursued for weeks: the billionaire inventor who planned to blow up the Earth, once he shepherded all the most cultured and valuable people off of it. \n\n\"Musk,\"Bond spat. He sat up, maintaining a defiant air of dignity, despite his raging headache. \n\nElon Musk grinned back at him. He swung open the door. Behind him stood a wall of armed henchmen, their fingers poised over triggers. He waved a dismissive hand to him and relaxed.\n\nMusk relaxed into the car beside him and patted the seat like it was his own child. \"This was one of the earliest ones, you know. The first cars we produced.\"\n\nBond stared out the slanted window, steely-eyed and silent. He wriggled the fingers of his left hand out of his bulky glove one by one.\n\n\"It's a good send-off. Symbolic. People love a good symbol.\"He looked Bond over and patted his knee. \"You're integral, you see. I couldn't have done this without you.\"\n\n\"Why are you doing this?\"Bond sighed. His breath pearled in little beads of condensation down his visor.\n\n\"It's simple, Mr. Bond. I very much prefer you dead. And I would prefer to ensure no one can come looking for clues.\"\n\nHis left hand came free of the glove. The suit was thick enough that it more or less held its shape as he snaked his arm slowly, tenuously, out of the sleeve of his suit.\n\n\"What is it you plan to do, then?\"Bond bit his lip, hard. This was his safest strategy. The best way to steal every spare second he needed.\n\n\"I think it's rather self-explanatory, Mr. Bond. Your suit\"--he rapped Bond's helmet with his fist--\"has a built-in radio. I've strapped you here to drive my car on its final journey.\"He spread his hands upward, and the ceiling panels opened overhead to a sky of smoke and stars. \"You'll be my Starman. I'll launch you into space. This suit, lovely as it looks, is not as airtight as it could be. It was designed for a dummy, you see. You'll have to do, for now.\"\n\nBond growled through his teeth, \"Damn it, Musk--\"\n\nBut Elon Musk carried on as if he did not hear, \"Don't try to hold your breath, Mr. Bond; your lungs will only explode. And the last thing you'll hear before shattering through our stratosphere and dying alone in the cold perfect vacuum of space... will be Earth. Cheering as you go.\"\n\nHe had his arm bent as far it could go without bulging in the suit. Did not so much as look toward Elon Musk.\n\n\"That's the plan, then?\"he asked, solemnly.\n\n\"It appears so.\"Elon Musk smiled up at the stars. \"You'll be flying straight to hell at eleven kilometers a second, buddy.\"He slapped Bond's chest and laughed like they were old friends. \"And we were just getting to know each other.\"\n\nBond yanked his arm out of his suit, delved into his jacket pocket for his pen. An innocent little thing, the metal battered and bruised, the ink dry. No one would think to remove it when they patted him down.\n\nMusk laughed. \"It's admirable, but don't think you can escape, Mister--\"\n\nHe never got the chance to finish.\n\nJames Bond depressed the tip of his pen. A burst of red light ate through the hide of his suit and sheared the windshield overhead in two.\n\nMusk staggered backward and shrieked, \"*Shoot* him! Shoot him, you stupid bastards!\"\n\nThe men surged forward.\n\nBond leapt out of the spacesuit and bolted like a rabbit out of his seat. He still wore his suit, albeit wrinkled, and his pocket square gone. They had taken his gun, so Bond dove behind the car and raised his pen. Calculated to himself how much mortal damage it could really carry out.\n\nHe smirked. \n\nNow seemed as good a time as any to find out.\n\n***\n\n/r/shoringupfragments \n\nJames Bond *usually* murders everyone in the room with a laser at the end of a movie right? " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "While walking, you notice everyone recoiling from a young woman. you speak to her to find out why. through her surprise, she explains she is death and everyone else sees a person based on how they feel about the concept of death. You've never seen a more beautiful or inviting person." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You...you're death? But...you're so...\"I stammered, amazed by what I saw. I had never really felt an attraction to a living person before, but the woman standing before me changed that. \n\n\"So what?\"She questioned, tilting her head curiously.\n\n\"Beautiful. You are incredibly beautiful.\"I was astonished that I was able to speak even though she had taken my breath away.\n\nShe giggled. \"Beautiful? I can't say I get called that very often. Many people see me differently.\"\n\n\"What do people usually see you as?\"\n\n\"Rotting, decaying, diseased...you know, death-related things. You should be alarmed, honestly.\"\n\n\"Alarmed?\"I paused. \"Why is that?\"\n\n\"Well, people only really see me as 'beautiful' if...if they're, longing for me. You know. Suicidal.\"She sounded strangely sad, but I could only smile.\n\n\"Oh don't worry, I'm far from suicidal. I'm loving every minute of living, honest.\"\n\n\"You are? Then it's curious as to why you see me this way, human.\"\n\n\"Oh it's not really all that curious, I'm just a necrophiliac is all.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are a third generation guard for the holy immortals, and you have finally have received the greatest accolade that they can bestow on your kind... \"Good boy\", says your immortal master." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One day, they took the Small immortal away. \n\n*They always come back,* I told myself. When they leave in that blazing chariot, they always return. \n\nStill, I paced the house. Chewing on the bones of old enemies. Trying to pretend I wasn’t terrified. \n\n*What if they don't?*\n\nWorrying and wandering the halls, I went from room to room. Waiting. It was not until late that night that I heard the roar of the chariot pulling into our plaza. I was at the front door before the handle even began to turn.\n\nI jumped up to greet the Mother immortal, and licked her right on the face. I am very good at jumping, and I am sure the immortals love me for this. \n\nThe Mother immortal made the sounds she always makes when I lick her face: “Stop it, Herc! Don’t lick me!” It was her way of saying hello.\n\nShe smelled strange. I sniffed circles around her, trying to understand where she had been. She smelled clean, but there were also many foreign scents lingering around her. \n\nThe Mother immortal closed the door behind her, dropped her things off, and collapsed on the couch. But she had forgotten something. I climbed on top of her, and barked. \n\n*Where is the Small immortal?*\n\n“Herc, please get off of me.” \n\nIt wasn’t the words. It was the way she said them. A low growl, like she was too tired to yell at me. Her eyes were leaking. I wanted to help, but I thought she would be angry if I tried to lick her face again. Sometimes patience is the only way.\n\nSo I settled down next to the couch. She rolled over, hiding her face in the cushions, but I could still hear her sobbing. I have very good ears, though I would trade them both if I could just help the Mother immortal stop crying.\n\nThe night passed like this. The Father immortal did not come home until the next morning. He traded places with the Mother immortal. They hugged each other for far too long, both of them making those sad, quiet sounds. I was hungry. Usually, the immortals confer upon me a most bountiful blessing of delicious food, twice a day. TWICE. But it seemed they had forgotten today. \n\nSometimes, they are forgetful and it is my duty to remind them. But today, I thought it might be better to wait.\n\nEventually, the Mother immortal left in her chariot. The Father immortal stayed in our temple, and blessed me with food (praise the immortals), and went to sleep. And the days went on like this - with the Mother and the Father trading places. They were rarely in the Temple at the same time. And if they were, it was only to have quiet, unhappy conversations. \n\nThe Small immortal was still missing. When I tried hard enough, I could smell the Small immortal’s scent. It was strongest when one of the Parent immortals came back from wherever their chariot takes them. \n\nThe Small immortal. I haven’t admitted this yet, but… she is my favorite. She is the kindest, sweetest, and gentlest of all the immortals. She teaches me to hunt, and to run as fast as the wind, and to catch things that fly through the air. \n\nThe Small immortal sees me how I wish I really was. Brave. Smart. Loyal.\n\nLong ago, when I was brought to this Temple, the Small immortal let me sleep in her Chambers. She has been with me almost every morning, and she always made sure I was blessed with food. \n\nI don’t know how long it’s been. I only wish I knew where she went. I wish I could be there with her.\n\nOne day, I got my wish. \n\nThe Father immortal and the Mother immortal graciously invited me into their chariot, which was unbearably exciting. It took me a full five minutes calm down enough to let them put on my leash. I leapt into the chariot, and did my best not to chew on the padded seats. \n\nThe chariot rolled across the world for I know not how long. We came upon a Temple so vast, it must have fit a million immortals in it. It’s towers were white and gleaming, and there were many other chariots besides sitting in the plazas. Once, a chariot with brilliant red and blue lights screamed passed us.\n\nThey walked me through the halls of this great temple. It was hard to pay attention. There were hundreds of immortals around. Some in uniforms. Some smelled like blood, but not from hunting. Some of the immortals were lying down and not moving much at all.\n\nBut I kept my focus, because these were my immortals. And I was going to follow them.\n\nThey brought me to a room. That's when I smelled it. \n\nHer scent.\n\nThe Small immortal was HERE. I ran around the room looking for her, and I may have accidentally yanked the leash from my immortal's hand.\n\nThere was someone on the bed.\n\nI jumped up. The Father and the Mother screamed at me. “Stop it! Herc!” But it was okay, because I had found my Small immortal. \n\nAll her hair was gone. Perhaps it had been shaved off like that one time they shaved my underbelly. She was sleeping, but I knew how to wake her.\n\nLICK.\n\nMore protests from the Parent immortals. But her eyes fluttered open.\n\nWhen she looked at me, she smiled. A weak smile. It was like honey in my veins. \n\nHer breath was ragged and shallow. And she coughed when she tried to speak. “Hi, Herc. Good boy, Herc. You're a good boy.”\n\n*Good boy.* The highest honor an immortal could bestow on a guardian like myself.\n\nBut I did not need the honor. I would give away all the honors. I would snub all the praise of this world.\n\nI only needed her hand, patting me on the head.\n\n***\n\nCheck out /r/PSHoffman for more stories. Here's a *happier* one I wrote with an [undead dog.](https://www.reddit.com/r/PSHoffman/comments/i6o05v/med_school_necromancy_part_1_3/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are an NPC. One day, you see the player character do some weird steps and duplicate his items. You decide to try it for yourself." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The guy looked like an absolute *ass*.\n\nThat was just my first impression, all right? He definitely didn't fit in around here. The village was small and grungy, but he was all blond and suave, like he'd just arrived from some big city somewhere.\n\nAnd he kept looking around, all shifty-like. Like he was up to something. No, I didn't trust him. So I watched.\n\nI watched, in fact, eyebrow raised, as he waltzed on over to the log palisade surrounding the village. It was well behind the houses and shops, where no one else would be around to spy. The blond asshole smacked his head *straight into the wall*, casual as could be. His feet kicked, like he was jumping, or trying to walk.\n\nThe urge to look away was rising, hot and fast. There was something wrong. There must be something wrong with *him*. I shouldn't be looking, I shouldn't be watching He was punching the wall, ignoring the bruises rising on his knuckles. It didn't make any sense.\n\nBut I couldn't look away. I could only stare, eyes wide, as he casually dropped something clutched in his hand. It glinted as it fell.\n\nAnd suddenly the ground around him was filled with glimmering, brilliantly colorful gemstones. I gaped.\n\nEvery bit as casually as he had walked over, he scooped them all into his bag. And then he swaggered right out the nearby gate and vanished into the forest.\n\nI could only stand for a long moment, staring at where he'd been. That was crazy. *I* must be crazy. No, I was dreaming. That was it - there was no other explanation.\n\nI tried to convince myself of that, as I went about the rest of my day. But it itched at me. Something was *wrong* with that scene. I couldn't take it anymore.\n\nAnd so I found myself at that lonely stretch of wall, well after everyone else had gone to their beds for the night and clutching a gold necklace pilfered from...well, don't ask where I got it. I *had a necklace*. \n\nTaking a deep breath and trying not to think about how stupid I was going to look in a few moments, I slammed my head into the wall.\n\nA minute and a great deal of embarassment later, I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from yelping in shock.\n\nI was now ankle-deep in necklaces.\n\nSomeone was moving nearby. A guard? Someone else out for a late-night jaunt? Had they heard me? I didn't know, and it didn't matter. There was no way in hell I could get caught with a pile of necklaces all eerily similar to one that was soon-to-be reported missing. But I'd come prepared.\n\nThe sack I carried was full when I scampered back to my ramshackle little hut.\n\nAnd when the merchants came the next week, I suddenly found myself a much richer man. \n\nThe thoughts raced in my head. This village was *special*. I could make a difference here, become quite weal-I mean, I could make this *village* quite wealthy.\n\nSo long as I didn't get caught. If someone like me started showing up with bags of gold, people were going to start asking questions. \n\nWhat was the most valuable thing in the village? I found the question irresistable, suddenly. And then it occured to me that there was a mage, just outside of town. He didn't associate with us much, but he *did* have all sorts of odd valuables tucked into nooks and crannies.\n\nSurely he wouldn't miss just a few little baubles. I'd even put the originals back, after I was done.\n\nSliding the little bag of gold I'd earned under my bed, I lay back. And smiled.\n\n(/r/Inorai, critiques always welcome!)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Space law dictates the first to discover any intelligent species in the galaxy would have absolute rights over them. It worked out fine, until Earthlings developed space travel without outside help, and “discovered” the First Civilization." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We are ready to initiate the first test of the jump-drive, Sir,\"said Lieutenant Fallborn. \n\n\"Very well, input navigation telemetry to RA 14h 39m 37s | Dec -60° 50′ 2, and prepare to engage,\"Captain Winterborn ordered. \n\nLieutenant Fallborn entered the coordinates into her console, \"Sir, coordinates are entered and the course laid in.\"\n\nCaptain Winterborn looked on reflectively, \"This test could be what redefines space travel for all of Humanity. Instead of traveling at warp, taking weeks, months, or years on a voyage, we will be there in moments. This could be the single most impactful event in history. With that said, engage the jump-drive Lieutenant.\"\n\nLieutenant Fallborn entered the code required to unlock the controls, and with great solemnity, pressed the button the engage a jump.\n\n\nThe world went white. \n\nThey could feel themselves being twisted and bent, not their flesh, but rather their souls. \n\nMoments later, reality reasserted itself - the world no longer washed out in white nothingness. \n\n\"I can't believe it...\"whispered Winterborn, \"we've done it! We've traveled using a jump-drive!\"The ship burst into cheers of joy and pleasure. They all knew what this would mean for them, and for humanity as a whole. \n\nAs she gazed triumphantly out the viewing port, she noticed something was definitely wrong.\n\n\"Lieutenant Fallborn! What are our current coordinates?\"\n\n\"Sir...I don't believe this. The instruments must be faulty...\"Her voice was low, worried. \n\n\"Lieutenant, I need an answer now!\"Winterborn barked.\n\n\"Sir, according to our instruments, we are in a different spiral arm of the galaxy...\"\n\nSuddenly, the panel flashed to life, blinking and blaring the distinct warning that radio communications were occurring nearby. \"Wait...that isn't possible,\"Fallborn stammered, \"Sir, we're picking up signals indicating intelligent life in the system.\"\n\nThe Captain's blood ran cold, \"First contact? On top of everything else, we have confirmation of alien life?\"\n\n\"Sir, there seems to be a planet in the system with signs of advanced life. From the debris field surrounding their planet, they appear to be space capable,\"she reported. \n\nThe Captain sighed heavily, \"Well, let's go and say hello.\"\n\nThey arrived at the planet in good order, sending out a message of universal peace and brotherhood.\n\n\"Sir, they have received our message. They are not responding.\"\n\n\"I wonder what they're waiting for-\"the rest of the Captain's sentence was cut short by an advanced looking ship pulling to port of her vessel. \"Shit!\"she exclaimed. \n\n\"Sir, they are requesting permission to board. What should I say?\"Fallborn asked.\n\n\"Say yes, dammit, we need to make sure this goes well.\"\n\nTheir response given, they waited near the docking bay. As the doors opened, they could make out three aliens standing in the airlock. They were red skinned, with five scaled arms. Their eyes were deep, slanted gashes in their skulls. \n\nThe only thing the crew found more surprising than their appearance was what they did when the doors opened - they lowered themselves to the ground in supplication. \n\nWinterborn dropped to the ground, mimicking the posture of the aliens, and gesturing for Fallborn to do the same. \n\nThe visitors seemed shocked, almost scandalized by the action. The lead alien questioned her, \"Why do you bow, master? You are the ones to discover us, not the other way around.\"\n\n\"Ah, I'm sorry. We don't know the custom,\"Winterborn stood and dusted her uniform. \n\n\"Never apologize to one as lowly as I, good master, unless of course it is your pleasure. According to galactic law, any species which discovers another is given dominion over that species. For the first time, my species seems to be the one discovered.\"While she had difficulty interpreting their facial expressions, they seemed vaguely relieved.\n\n\"Wait, how many species have your people discovered? How often is this an issue?\"asked Winterborn. \n\nThe creature chittered, \"At current count...438. Of course, your species now controls them all as well.\"\n\nFallborn fell to her knees. The Captain felt like following her lead—how would she explain to her superiors that they had accidentally conquered 439 species? \n\n____________\n/r/SirLemoncakes [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/a6pu7y/wp_space_law_dictates_the_first_to_discover_any/ebxim9j/?st=jprc2rii&sh=00595c2b)\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "In the year 2200, an IQ test with 100% accuracy is invented. IQ becomes the universal grade of intelligence. By law, everyone has to take the test at 18. You’re a perfectly normal university student with a part time job but now you've got to explain to everyone why the test shows your IQ is 0." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I've heard the rumors going around. Are you going to tell me what's up with your IQ?\"\n\nWe were on our way back from Robotics 102, where Alex and I had just finished the semester's final project: basic sentient AI. I hadn't told anyone about my score, but it had apparently gotten around anyway. \n\n\"I'd love to, man, but I don't know any more than you do. Must be a glitch.\"\n\n\"Couldn't be,\"Alex argued. \"Millions of kids take that test every year. Any glitches would've been sorted out by now.\"\n\n\"Then how do you explain me getting a zero? You've known me since we learned to talk, you think my IQ is that impossibly low?\"\n\n\"Nah, you're right. It doesn't make any sense. You think maybe they gave you a prototype for a new test or something?\"\n\nI shook my head. \"Why fix what's not broken?\"\n\nWe continued down Musk Lane toward the freshman dorm, where I was sure there would be a lobby full of curious faces staring at me. \n\nI'd never attracted this much attention before. How could I explain this to all of them? It's not like I could tell them the test is only accurate for humans. " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Simultaneously, across the world, everyone hears a voice in their head. \"In 2 hours, the server will be shutting down for the final time. Thank you for playing Human ®.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "....... WHAT\n\nNo wait, that can't be right. \n\n\"Did-did you just hear that?\"Don asked me, tapping my shoulder from his desk. I shook my head, grabbing my bag and running to the elevator. \n\nCrap, it was full. I charged down the stairs, all 8 flights, in less than 10 minutes. I looked over to our parking, everyone was rushing to get out, to go home, surely. I shook, tears springing from my eyes as I pulled out my phone.\n\nThe network was down, everyone must be taking up the waves in calls. I stood there, dazed, phone crashing to the ground. Usually that would have scared me, but then I looked *up*.\n\nThere it was. A timer. Ticking down every last second, displayed for all of mankind. Next to the timer was an image, some kind of logo. \n\nI waited, watching chaos absent mindedly, as people used their final frantic moments in desperation. I saw orgies and murder and so many people jumping out of windows. \n\n00:01:00\n\nThis was it. A minute to go, and all I could think of was some stupid cat on a piano. I smirked, of course that was all I could think of. \n\n----\n\nSIMULATION TERMINATED\n\nThe buzzer blared, red light flooding the facility. The pods shook and whined, fluid draining from them rapidly. \n\n\"APPROACHING COORDINATES AS SET. PLEASE AWAIT LANDING PROTOCOL.\"\n\nThe machines hummed and whirred to life, as they began going through each row, checking vitals, preparing each human to awaken from Cryostasis. The AI pilot began the descent. \n\n----\n\nI awoke to the smell of cleaning supplies. I opened my eyes and looked around me, noting that things did not match my memory. When the robot appeared, I freaked. \n\n\"Please calm down, we are approaching the new planetoid. Your false memories will soon fade. Blessing, thanks to Cheribum.\"\n\n\"....Blessing, thanks to Cheribum.\"I found myself repeating. Suddenly an image of a ruined Boros came to mind, and the fog that clouded my vision faded. \n\nYes, we were chosen, sent to a new planetoid to be better than they were, to be *purer* than them.\n\nThe training had been completed. \n\nI had awoken, and now that I knew my enemy better than my self, I too could eventually purge the system of them. \n\n*Humans*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your roommate is obviously an alien trying to infiltrate humanity... but he pays the rent on time so you don't really care." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So, I'm going to a party tonight if you want to come\"I said as I walked into the kitchen to see Chad Chadson, my newest flatmate sitting backwards in a chair. \n\n\"Will there be any world leaders or important pillars of the human community?\"he asked. \n\n\"Possibly\"\n\n\"I will bring edibles\"he began, \"fish eggs and the flesh of immature house cattle\"\n\nNodding, I focused on the ground and responded \"yeah, I think crisps and some beer will probably go better, but it's good that you're offering to spice things up a bit\"\n\n\"Pepper\"\n\n\"Right, so anyways, we're going to get going around 5. I can drive us both there...\"I began, turning away from the kitchen.\n\n\"I will arrange my own form of transport\"he said as I felt a blast of energy at my back and a light which illuminated the hallway in front of me. \n\nI turned back around and Chad was gone. \n\n\"CALL ME. NOW.\"The text message from Maria read. \n\n\"Shit....\"I whispered as I pressed the green button and the phone began to ring. \"Hey, what's up?\"\n\n\"Your flatmate broke into my house, somehow, and is running around my kitchen slapping pieces of meat on various items and screaming 'engage thermals', dude, I told you that he could only come if you stayed by him the entire time, and I said nothing about him arriving four hours early, alone, and breaking the fuck in!\"\n\n\"THERMAL ENGAGE!\"Chad screamed in the background as he put the veal on Admiral McKenzie, the flat cat. \n\n\"Though to be fair, he also seems to have upgraded by fridge, so kudos for that.\"Maria added. \n\n\"Let me talk to him\"I said. \"Hey, Chad, listen buddy, it's not time for the party, can you just come back here and...\"\n\n\"WHAT THE FUCK!\"Maria shouted and dropped the phone as Chad materialised in the room with me. \n\n\"Where is the thermal engager?\"Chad asked. \n\n\"Right, the stove, come over here, grab a frying pan, you know, this, this thing, add some butter\"\n\n\"Cattle froth\"\n\n\"Butter...., some rosemary, lightly flour the veal, place it in like this, sprinkle some salt and pepper\"\n\n\"MY NASAL AIR IS UNDER ATTACK\"\n\n\"That's just the pepper buddy, let's just cook this for 3-4 minutes on each side, like that, right, then we just add some more pep...\"\n\n\"NO\"\n\n\"It's not necessary to do that, you're right, let's add in some white wine, let it evaporate for 3 to four more minutes, throw in some cherry tomatoes, some mozzarella cheese\"\n\n\"Cattle clumps\"\n\n\"Cheese.... two more minutes... almost there.... Now we put it on the plate, and pour on the juices.... and a bit of basil for show! See, all done!\"\n\n\"See, all done! Now we are ready to engage in human festivities\"\n\n\"Let's just put this in the fridge for a bit, and let it cool down and\"\n\n\"ENGAGE COOLING SYSTEMS\"he screamed as he threw the veal at the washing machine. \n\n\"Ex... exactly. Great. Well, I'll see you later for the party\"\n\n\"HERE ARE MORE EARTH CREDITS\"\n\n\"Thanks... thanks buddy\"\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A father and son sit down for a serious talk. The father is going to tell the son he is the last of an ancient race, and must carry on the bloodline. the son is coming out to the father. neither knows what the other has to say." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We sat in the living room, me, perched in the middle of the colossal green couch, my father, in the beaten-tan lazyboy. I wan't sure where to begin. My father, though, beat me to it.\n\n“*Hrm*. Well, son, you might have noticed that you have certain…*qualities* that other boys your age don’t have…”\n\nI was... a little surprised. “So, wait, Dad. *You know about me?!*”\n\n“Of course. I’m one too!”\n\nAgog, I sputtered out. “But-but, *but does Mom know*?!” \n\n“Of course she knows! She’s even gone on a few *adventures* with me! We’d mix it up all the time.”\n\n*Adventures?! Oh God, was that what they called it?* “She was *ok* with it!?”\n\n“Sure. She was quite the enchantress, back then. Her techniques were *incredible*, let me tell you. I got to see them firsthand. She'd make a mess out of a room of men in *seconds flat*”\n\n*Oh God, if you’ve ever loved me, you will* **kill me now**. *Kill me, before I hear about my bi father’s sexcapades.*\n\n“Yes son, I know all about it. I just want you to know that what you’re going through now is normal. Those strange feelings you’re having aren’t in your head. But, there will be people who don’t understand you.”\n\nI thought about Greg, how I’d misunderstood his pranks as affection. How he’d reacted, and the pain of rejection. How Michael had seen and accepted me, and how Laura saw to it that I was kicked off of the Homecoming Council.\n\n“In the days to come, you might find it easier to not tell anyone what you really are. If you do decide that, I want you to know that no one can judge you. You will have every right to live your life *how you want to*, without regard for people like *them*, or even people *like me.*. But’ I hope you’ll find a few people to share this with. It helps. And I want you to know, however you choose to live your life, your mother and me will love you, *always.*”\n\nMy eyes started to water, cutting through the heat of shame.\n\n“Also, there are going to be people who might want to hurt you because of what you are. And there will probably be people who will… *want things* from you, too. I know you’re strong, but if you ever need it, come to us for help.”\n\n“Thanks, Dad.”\n\n“Right, ok! I have to admit, I’m surprised you worked all this out for yourself already! It took me forever to awaken!”\n\n“*Ughhh*, DAD.”\n\n“What? I’m just proud of my boy!”\n\n“That’s weird, Dad.”\n\n“Nothing weird about it! It’s who you are! So, have you already experimented a bit?”\n\nI thought of Mike, and the smell of his leather jacket.\n\n“A little, yeah.”\n\n“Right, ok. Well, you’ve probably worked out that you’ll do best with *rods*-“\n\n“*Dad.*”\n\n“-Staffs, staves-“\n\n“*DAD.*”\n\n“-even *wands*, if the situation calls for it-“\n\n“*OH MY GOD*, **DAD!**”\n\n“But you’ll figure out pretty soon that you can even use *just your hands* if you don’t have anything else to work with-.“\n\nMy flush of embarrassment had gone *nuclear*.\n\n“JESUS SHIT, DAD! I *know*!”\n\n“You do?! Wow, you’re *very advanced* for your age! I didn’t even gain mastery over the tongues of men until I was 19!”\n\n*…I was going to burn my way to the center of the Earth.* \n\nI would. I would melt a hole, *seven thousand miles straight down*, and live there forever. That would be my home; far, *far* away from this conversation.\n\n“Daaad, could you… please… not…”\n\n“*OH!* I’m sorry. I’m embarrassing you. I’m just *so proud*.”\n\n*This is worse. This is worse than disowning.* \n\n“And the good news is, this means we can have the ceremony sooner than we expected!”\n\n*WHAT.*\n\n“What ceremony?!”\n\n“Your unveiling! It makes it all official, amongst us in the ‘underworld.’ “\n\n“There’s a *ceremony* for that?!”\n\n“Oh, yes! It’s very important! We show proof of your nature to your *peers*, so you’ll be accorded full status!”\n\n“…*What kind of proof.*”\n\n“Oh, you know, a few *minor acts.* A practical demonstration. Don’t worry, the audience is very supportive. You might even recognize a few of them from school! Mike will be there, you know. He’s secretly a bear-man. He *really impressed* at his unveiling last year.”\n\nMy brain shut down.\n\n“And then, after that, I’ll take out the family *crown and scepter*-“\n\nI could only listen on, in mounting horror.\n\n“-declaring you the true, last heir of the *King of the Fairies!*”\n\n…\n\nMy soul left my body. I saw a bright light.\n\n“And then you can begin pursuing your destiny, protecting the land of Eld from monsters!”\n\nI whiplashed back into the real world. “Wait. What about… what?!”\n\n“You’ll really knock ‘em *dead*, son! Damn, but I’m *excited!* I’m gonna go get my robe right now!”\n\nHe flitted out of the room on a pair of iridescent, gossamer wings.\n\n“…*what?*”\n \n\n*EDIT*\n\nOh. Wow. Ok. R.I.P. inbox... \n\nThanks so much to everyone who upvoted and commented, and a special thank-you goes to our esteemed OP, [r/raccooninajar](http://www.reddit.com/user/raccooninajar), and another redditor who will go unnamed unless he wants to be named, because I don't know the etiquette here and also *shut up I know what I'm doing, ok?!*\n\nIf you liked this story, you might like to read about [how Nazis fight time-travelling assassins](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/29k2gu/wp_a_topsecret_division_of_the_ss_in_charge_of/cilty67), what might happen if [the Antichrist found himself in the wrong Apocalypse](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2o1ulj/wp_the_antichrist_finds_himself_in_the_wrong/cmjdddt), how hard it is for [a super-spy to explain being late at his day-job.](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2a1yvm/wp_a_person_leading_a_double_life_undercover/ciqqv1p?context=3). If you like more serious things, maybe you'd like to [meet Death in an elevator](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/25mykh/wp_youre_an_exhausted_paramedic_you_just_finished/chitnrc?context=3), [free an innocent prisoner as a death-row cook](http://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2l4aq9/wp_the_chef_who_always_prepares_death_rows_last/clrpzq1?context=3), or to [wake up to a duplicate of yourself every morning.](http://www.reddit.com/r/funny/comments/1sj2v2/im_an_ra_one_of_my_residents_just_posted_this/cdyf6x7?context=3)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You wake up in a room with someone else, no doors, just a a paper taped on the wall that says \"One of you is the A.I.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I read the note, then glanced to my fellow prisoner.\n\n\"It's not me,\"he insisted.\n\n\"This is easy to figure out. I'll just state a paradox, and whoever the AI is will explode,\"I said.\n\n\"Sounds good,\"he replied.\n\n\"This statement is false,\"I said.\n\nHe exploded. It was, as I'd thought, pretty easy.\n\nBut then I started wondering: How did that even work? If the statement was false, then the statement 'this statement is false' was true! And if it was true, then the statement 'this statement is false' was false! And if it was false, then the statement-\n\nI exploded.\n\n----\n\n\"Dammit, Jenkins!\"Overseer McGint said, \"I told you to update the note! It should say '*At least* one of you is the AI.'\"He sighed, adding, \"set up another batch already and let's try this again.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "When you die, you appear in a cinema with a number of other people who look like you. You find out that they are your previous reincarnations, and soon you all begin watching your next life on the big screen." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If I shared anything with my reincarnations, it was in our belief in fate. Though each previous version of me held a very different perspective of it. The me that had died in the Great Depression thought it a terrible thing, wicked and omnipotent. The me that had lived as king in the middle ages thought it a gift presented by God. Me, I believed it a promise.\n\nMy next reincarnation was a baby with deep blue eyes and pink skin named George. He started his life alone. George cried so much that they had to put him in a separate room, devoid of the other infants. A nurse checked in on him every few hours. Nobody blamed her. She had more pressing matters to attend to, such as George’s mother, whose heart rate was steadily growing out of control and her breathing stuttered.\n\nWhen the young lady died, she did so whispering her son’s name. I wasn’t sure if she ever even got a look at him. In that hospital room, with the flat-line beep of a heart rate monitor, the nurse checking on George stood, lips quivering and fists clenched. \n\nIn this world, children were supposed to be loved by their parents. If not the mother, who else would? For George, it was nobody, not even himself.\n\nThe orphanage boasted posters of smiling blonde-haired boys and girls with deep blue eyes. George could’ve been a literal poster boy if he ever smiled. But no matter how many stuffed animals they threw his way, how many hugs and smiles they offered him, they could never get those lip-locked edges to curve up.\n\nBy the time he had hit thirteen, he had already smoked his first cigarette and drank his first beer. Nobody wanted to tell him, but everybody knew. Nobody adopted teenagers. He would be a lifer, an unwanted child turned into an unwanted adult.\n\nAnd on his seventeenth birthday, he bought a gun.\n\nNone of us watching were worried at all for other people. Despite everything that happened, George was a gentle boy and that was his problem. Nobody could reach him through his overpowering politeness. It took a mother’s love to chip away at the boy and all he had was an old photo of a ghost who once loved him.\n\nHe snuck out when the moon had hit its apex, left all the money he had in a small package with a letter. It read: *Thanks for taking care of me.* And that was it. He didn’t sign it, didn’t address it to anyone, he wrote it all in a cheap pen and stuffed it inside with twelve-hundred dollars cash.\n\nThe spot he chose was out of the way. Nobody was nearby to be disturbed. No runners would come this way to be scared. The only selfishness he allowed himself was that it was by a river, a black canvas of glittering moonlight.\n\n“I was never meant to live,” he told himself and us. “This is fate.”\n\nSome of us nodded with him. Others shook their heads. I stared, my neck stiff, eyes unblinking as he put the gun to his temple.\n\n“No,” I whispered. “Don’t do it.”\n\nSome of us, the more boisterous ones, cheered along, egging the boy to pull the trigger. They had seen a thousand lives and would see a thousand more until all of mankind vanished. A single life in a single point of time meant nothing to them. But for me, this was my first.\n\n“No,” I said and stood from my seat. “Please.”\n\nThe screen flickered to the tremble of his finger. Soon, it would go completely black. He would fulfill his fate.\n\n“No!” I screamed. “This isn’t how it should go!”\n\nThe boisterous ones were no longer laughing. The others around me turned away their eyes. At one point in time, they had all been me. They had thought that life mattered, that our pain had meaning. But after a thousand shows of a thousand lives, most of them only slept through the show.\n\nI clenched my fists, the words swelling in my lungs. Then, I took the breath to give them life and I prayed, that somehow, I wasn’t just a dead man with a loud mouth.\n\n“Don’t pull,” I yelled, tears pouring down my cheeks and snot from my nose. “Not until you have a chance. Maybe you never will, maybe this will be how it always is, maybe I’m wrong about everything, but there’s meaning in your pain! I can’t tell you if I’m right or if I’m certain.” My voice dropped low. “I can only promise.”\n\nGeorge closed his eyes. He hadn’t heard me, of course he wouldn’t.\n\nI held my breath.\n\nThen, George broke down, the gun still pressed to his head. “So cruel,” he whispered to nobody. “After all this, all I have is a promise. That’s all my fate has to offer.”\n\nMy eyes went wide. My jaw dropped. “And that’s enough,” I said, my voice too low even for myself to hear.\n\nThere, George stood, the gun rigid in his hand. And when his tears fell, so too did his gun.\n\n---\n\nHappy Thanksgiving. /r/jraywang.\n\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Humans have discovered how to live forever, allowing them to die when they feel ready to do so. But it is considered bad form to live for too long. You have lingered much longer than is polite and those around you are trying to convince you to die." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Scrambled eggs, breakfast potatoes, crispy bacon, and an English muffin with raspberry jam. I loaded the tray with Margaret's favorite breakfast foods and brought them to her in bed. The wood floor of our old house creaked as I entered the room, causing her to stir under the sheets. Still half-asleep, she gave a blissful smile at the smell of the food. \n\nShe sat up against a wall of pillows and I set the tray in her lap. \"Today's the day,\"I reminded her, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. She still looked exactly the same after all these years.\n\n\"I know.\"She took a bite of her English muffin, and a gob of jam clung to her upper lip. It was adorable. But the smile that came across my lips was more painful than anything I'd ever felt.\n\nWe had chosen to die today. It was a decision several centuries in the making, but the time had come. Nearly all of our friends had long since made the choice to end their lives, but we'd held out. Gentle pushing from our children, and our grandchildren, and our great-great-great-great-great grandchildren had become not so gentle in recent years. We resisted even at the cost of becoming social pariahs. Some of our more ungrateful descendants were even threatening to have our assets seized, claiming that we'd delayed their inheritance for too long. *Brats*. Finally Margaret and I relented, and scheduled our termination date. Today. \n\nI took a slice of bacon off her plate and bit into it. I'd certainly miss bacon. There would be a lot of that today: my last everything. Last bite of bacon. Last shower. Last walk with our dog Fisher, who would go stay with our great-great-granddaughter and her family after we passed on. \n\nMargaret and I decided to make a day of it. If it was to be our last, it was to be our *best*. We started with a long drive through the forest, like the ones we'd taken when we first fell in love. Dappled sunlight filtered through the dense green leaves of the canopy, and a warm breeze shook the branches. Then we arrived at the lake and dug our old toes into the sandy beach at the shore. Cold water lapped at our feet, sending chills racing up our bodies. Rather than shrink from it, I dove headfirst into the water. It was cool and refreshing against the summer heat. Margaret followed me in, emerging a few seconds later with rivulets running from her hair. At shoulder depth, we embraced and kissed. Just like when we'd first started dating. \n\nThe sun began to dip behind the trees, painting the sky red and orange. We dried off on the dock and drove to Palmero's for dinner. It had long since gone out of business, and some other restaurant was there in its place. But the dining patio was still open, and we managed to get a table in the very same place that we had hundreds of years ago when I'd first dropped to one knee and placed a diamond ring on Margaret's finger. Over dinner, we reminisced about all of those good times. We were both deliberately ignoring our watches as our appointment grew ever closer. \n\nFinally we couldn't avoid it anymore. Goodbye messages from our family and few remaining friends began rolling in. \"Best of luck!\"they said, as though we were departing for a long journey instead of fading into oblivion. Though filled with loving language, all I could read from the messages was 'you can't back out now!'\n\nMargaret and I got back into the car and headed down the highway to the doctor's office where we'd end our lives. The sign loomed over the highway, pointing the way toward the end. I'd been reading up on the subject recently, and most people only described relief as the end neared. Like climbing into a warm bed at the end of a long day. But I didn't feel that at all. It felt like I'd swallowed a load of molten lead. But I had to stay firm for Margaret. We'd agreed that we were in this together, and I wasn't about to let her down now. \n\n\"I had a great day,\"she told me, giving my hand a squeeze. \n\n\"Me too.\"The turn was coming closer and closer. Neither of us wanted to say what the other was thinking.\n\n\"You know, we forgot dessert,\"she finally told me. \"We used to always go out for ice cream.\"\n\nI gave a giddy laugh. I've never felt such relief. \"You know, you're right. One can't die without a proper dessert.\"\n\nShe beamed back. \"Well I guess we'll have to reschedule!\"\n\nWe sped by the exit toward the doctor's. The lights were still on in the office, but there was no one else in the parking lot. I wondered briefly how long they'd wait for us before realizing that we'd decided not to show. \n\n----\n\n\n\"Tomorrow,\"Margaret said firmly with a sundae in her hand. \"We'll reschedule for tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Right.\"I licked my ice cream cone. Dulce de leche, my favorite. \"Tomorrow.\"Just as we'd said so many times in the past.\n\n------\n\nIf you enjoyed this, you should also subscribe to /r/Luna_Lovewell for tons of other stories!\n\n\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Michael, a 15 year old Call of Duty player, realizes the greatest trash-talking opportunity of all time. Over his headset, he recognizes his opponent's voice as that of President Obama." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You'd think that the Secret Service would have some clue about combat tactics, but apparently not. They were all bunched up around the President as bullet shields, and weren't even moving while Obama did his best to line up a sniper shot. One grenade was all it took, giving me an amazing killstreak and finally earning me a gunship. \n\n\"Very good move, XxXBlahzeItFahGetXxX,\"a voice came over the mic. He pronounced \"Blahze\"as \"blasé\"and \"Fahget\"like a Bostonian trying to say \"Forget.\"But I hardly even noticed that at the time because I realized *it was Barack FUCKING Obama!* \"You really got me there.\"\n\nI was too excited to even contain myself. Holy crap, what an opportunity! I could *make history* here; this was my modern-day Boston Tea Party! I was wracked with indecision: what slur do I start with? Racial would be the obvious choice, but he's probably desensitized to it by now. Maybe some good \"pillowbiters\"and the classic standby \"faggot.\"But those are all just so... played out. I needed something brand new. Something that would *wow* everyone when the audio was eventually released. Speaking of which, I ordered the in-game recording to start. \n\nFinally, I had it. The perfect insult. \"Hey, Obama!\"I said into the mic. \"Get ready to get rekt, you fucking queer...\"\n\n\"Shut your pre-pubescent little fuckwad mouth!\"he shouted back. \"I'm going to fuck your mom so hard tonight that you'll *retroactively* become black! She won't be able to sit down for *weeks*. You think I'm kidding, you little bitch? I'm the most powerful man on the planet!\"What followed was the most horrendous tirade of slurs and insults that I'd ever heard in my entire life. I couldn't have interrupted even if I wanted to. It was like the man didn't even stop to take a breath for Christ's sake. He was still shouting at me even after the game ended, and I could just barely hear the secret service agents laughing in the background.\n\nI quit the game, and my phone rang almost immediately showing my best friend's number on the caller ID. He was never going to believe what had happened.\n\n\"Hey Ja...\"\n\n\"Yeah, you thought it was your gay lover Jason, didn't you, faggot? Well it's not, bitch! I've got the NSA on my side, what have you... *click*\"I hung up on the President. He tried calling back as Jason again. Then as my grandmother. Then as the girl I had a crush on. I silenced the phone and threw it behind my bed and ran downstairs.\n\nMom was in the living room on her iPad. As soon as I entered, she jumped up and gave me a hug. \"You're never going to believe it,\"she said. \"We just received *an invitation to visit the White House* next week!\"She showed me the email with the official .gov address and everything. \"We're going to get to meet with President Obama!\"she told me. \"And it even says that he wants to 'have a one-on-one session' with me *personally*!\"\n\nI backed away slowly in horror, then ran up the stairs and bolted into my room. I fished my phone out from behind my bed and checked: 17 missed calls, and one text message.\n\n> Yeah, you thought I was just shit-talking, didn't you? See you soon, bitch.\n\n----\n\nIf you enjoyed this, [you should also read this story about Call of Duty](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/3dau7g/call_of_fatherly_duty/). And subscribe to /r/Luna_Lovewell for hundreds of additional stories!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You're a U.S. Senator and are running out of things to say in your Filibuster. In a last ditch attempt, you start a D&D campaign." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When they're not looking, I roll to skim some of the treasure off the top,\"Shelby (R-Alabama, Rogue 3, Fighter 1) said.\n\nDungeon Master Warren (D-Massachusetts) nodded. \"You realize there's still one giant spider alive, right?\"\n\nShelby shrugged. \"You say spider, I say 'diversion'.\"\n\nWarren let it go. \"Okay,\"she said, \"roll when your turn comes up.\"\n\n\"Can't I smite him for this?\"Roberts (R-Kansas, Paladin 4) said.\n\n\"You're kinda busy with that giant spider thing,\"Warren pointed out.\n\n\"Stop metagaming,\"Shelby added. \"Your character doesn't see it.\"\n\n\"This is bullshit,\"Fischer (R-Nebraska, Barbarian 3) said. \"You shouldn't take money that the party needs!\"\n\n\"It's your turn, Fischer,\"Warren said.\n\n\"I'm going to attack Shelby,\"Fischer said.\n\n\"Bullshit!\"Shelby yelled. \"Metagaming!\"\n\nWarren had to reluctantly agree, \"He's right, your character doesn't know that Shelby is stealing stuff,\"\n\n\"Which I haven't even done yet,\"Shelby pointed out.\n\n\"If I might have the floor?\"Burr (R-North Carolina, Wizard 4) said.\n\nWarren frowned. \"No,\"she said, remembering that this had started at some point as a filibuster and she needed it to keep going, \"but I'm listening if you're saying something in character.\"\n\nBurr seemed to expect that response. \"Before we went into the dungeon, I cast Clairvoyance and had it follow Shelby around - in character, because he's got a reputation as being... well, disreputable.\"\n\n\"Can you even cast Clairvoyance yet, Burr?\"Shelby asked skeptically.\n\n\"I bought a scroll.\"Burr answered.\n\nWarren sighed, \"Okay, Burr, that's good that you're in character and have a reasonable justification for doing that, but again, if you're going to cast a spell or use a scroll like that, you have to tell me.\"\n\n\"I did tell you!\"Burr objected, \"When we went into town you asked if there were any supplies I needed, and I said I needed a scroll of Clairvoyance!\"\n\n\"Right,\"Warren said, \"but you didn't actually *use* the scroll, so now there's spiders. Speaking of, Fischer? Still your turn. Still a giant spider there.\"\n\nFischer seemed to think about this. \"I'm still going to attack Shelby.\"\n\n\"Oh come on!\"Shelby shouted.\n\n\"Can I intervene here?\"Sessions (R-Alabama, Ranger 5) said.\n\n\"You would,\"Fischer said.\n\nWarren interrupted before the conversation could go further, instead deciding to answer Sessions' question: \"You're not in the room; you went to explore the other branch, remember?\"\n\n\"Right,\"Sessions said. \"I'll come back into the room to go help Shelby.\"\n\n\"Thank you!\"Shelby said.\n\n\"Oh, sure,\"Warren said, \"When it's your buddy coming to help you for no reason, suddenly you don't care about metagaming.\"\n\n\"You know what?\"Shelby said, \"Fine! I won't steal the gold on my turn. In fact, on my turn, I'm out of this room. I'm going to explore the other branch with Sessions.\"\n\n\"Fine!\"Warren and Fischer said. \"You never went along with the party anyway,\"Fischer added. \"You're PCs in name only!\"\n\n\"I move that PCINOs be pronounced 'Pachinos'\"Ernst (R-Iowa, Warlock 1, deceased) asked.\n\n\"Seconded,\"Heller (R-Nevada, Warlock 1, deceased) said.\n\n\"Just get it passed by acclamation so we can do something about THE SPIDERS!\"Warren shouted.\n\n\"Is it my turn?\"Shelby asked.\n\n\"No, it's still Fischer.\"Warren said.\n\n\"Oh, you better bet I'm attacking Shelby now,\"Fischer said.\n\nShelby stood up. \"I use my Signet of Transportation to get the hell out of there. I can use that as a bonus action, so she can't attack me, right?\"\n\n\"Yes,\"Warren said, resigned.\n\n\"Oh, fuck you Shelby!\"Fischer said. \"You planned to rob us all along! That's it, you're out of the party!\"\n\n\"You can't kick us out,\"Sessions said, \"We're leaving! We're going to explore this dungeon and lead our constituents on our own!\"\n\n\"Oh hell no!\"Fischer said. \"You're not going to loot this dungeon and constituents before we can!\"\n\nWarren sighed.\n\n\"It's not your fault,\"McConnell (R-Kentucky, Senate Majority Leader 2) said to Warren. \"They didn't listen to that oldest of gaming and political advice.\"\n\n\"Oh?\"Warren asked.\n\n\"Never split the party.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Humans are the most social creatures in the galaxy, even the most socially inept human is far more confident in social situations than any other alien. The Intergalactic society finally gathered the confidence to make first contact." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lights shot in through the window and played across the ceiling, rousing me from my sleep almost immediately.  Vivid, brilliant riots of colors at 3 A.M. being somewhat unusual, I figured I may as well get up.\n\nConfused and still quite groggy, I managed to find my slippers, grabbed my robe, and went to the window to investigate.\n\nThe woods behind my house seemed to be poorly hiding a large rave, only there was no music.  Much more confused and much less groggy, I kicked off the slippers and shoved my feet into my boots.  Something wasn't right, and I intended to find out what this was about.\n\nI hadn't gotten more than twenty feet outside before I saw it: slim, short, with a large head and creepy eyes, wearing what I could only really describe as... well, call me crazy, but it was wearing what looked like a fedora.\n\nWhen it noticed me looking right at it, it bolted towards the woods at high speed, arms flailing in the air, all while emitting a weird, high-pitched squeal.\n\nRunning after the alien, I noticed it drop something, then scramble up a tree and away, much faster than I could follow.  It looked like a crumpled piece of paper. As I picked it up, I could hear more of the high-pitched squealing noises farther off.\n\nThe piece of paper simply read, over and over, in about every language I could recognize (and many I couldn't):\n\n\n\"Would you like to be considered members of the United Federation of Planets with us?\n\nCheck one: [] Yes [] No\"\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are a secret immortal who accidentally won a '$2000 per week for the rest of your life lottery'. The lottery organizers don't understand why you want to turn down the prize as your excuses grow increasingly more far-fetched." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My phone rings again, drawing my attention. I pick it up, seeing “Do Not Answer” scrawled across the top of my screen. A number that the lottery people have used to try to call me. They won’t take no for an answer no matter how many times I tell them no and to leave me alone. I can’t figure out what their deal is. I wait until the very last ring before answering the call, throwing the phone on speakerphone. Even though I answered it, I don’t say anything.\n\n“Hello? Halle, are you there?”\n\nI don’t say anything, just trying to slow my breathing.\n\n“Hello?”\n\n“I don’t want your money,” I snap. “Draw a different name and stop harassing me!”\n\n“Please accept my apology Miss. Noavek, I just don’t understand. You’ve given us every excuse under the sun-“\n\n“And yet you keep harassing me as if I said maybe. No. I’m not taking your money. Draw a new name!”\n\n“Miss. Noavek, we need a legitimate reason to-“\n\n“I didn’t even enter this lottery! How did I win a lottery I didn’t enter... You know what?” Screw it. I’ve made up every lie I could think of the truth is more ridiculous. Let’s do it. “I’m immortal. I’ll never die. You can keep pumping out $2000 cheques every week and run yourself dry because I will never stop receiving that money until the company is dead from paying me every cent you’ve got.”\n\n“And there it is,” she laughs. “Sir, we have confirmation from Halle Noavek herself. We’ve located one of the immortals and are deploying troops to her location no-“\n\nI hang up, not sure if I’m breathing anymore. There’s a knock at my door, sending a chill down my spine. I head for the window and peek out, seeing multiple FBI vans in my driveway. I knew this day was coming, I just didn’t expect it to be because of a lottery scam. I toss my phone into the sink I was washing dishes in and head for my basement where my escape hatch is, swallowing hard. \n\nThey can’t catch me if they can’t find me." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You enter a store with the intention to rob it. But while waiting last in line so everyone can leave first, the person in front of you pulls out a gun and tells the cashier to empty the cash register." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Empty the fucking cash register!\"the man in front of me is screaming his lungs out and waving a gun in the air. \n\n*Shit! He's blowing my score with this amateur crap.*\n\nWorkers and customers in the small supermarket shriek and curl up into balls, but I stay steady. \n\nThe cashier is manically shoving cash into the bag, and I wait for him to hand it over to the howling robber before I make my move. \n\n\"Thank you,\"the asshole says as the cashier hands him the bag with notes spilling out of it. \"Now everyone stay calm as I leave and forget my face—\"\n\n\"Drop the fucking bag!\"I've got my Glock trained right on his ugly head, and he freezes with his weapon still pointed at the cashier.\n\n\"What... What the hell are you doing, man?\"he cries, confused as can be.\n\n\"Now look here, asshole,\"I take a step forward, he winces. \"I've been planning this job for a week, and I'm not backing out now because some rookie decides to rob the place on the same damn day.\"\n\n\"But,\"he sounds like he's going to cry. \"This is my first score, c'mon dude—\"\n\n\"DROP THE FUCKING BAG!\"\n\nThe sack hits the floor with a thud. \n\n\"Could you please stop pointing your gun at me, sir?\"the cashier is still standing their, looking relatively calm all things considered. \n\n\"Now pick up all the spilled loot and shove it back in there,\"I command. \n\nThe rookie is slow to move, still pointing his gun lazily at the cashier. \n\n\"I said, please stop pointing that—\"\n\n\"Dude, shut the fuck up and get on the floor!\"I yell at the dumb employee. \n\n\"No,\"his hands move quickly behind his apron and brandish two handguns, one pointed at each of us before we know what's happened. \"You shut the fuck up and get on the floor!\"\n\n\"What the hell!?\"both of us cry in unison. \n\n\"Now look here, assholes,\"the cashier looks furious, not even worried that we both have our guns trained on him as he speaks. \"I've been working here for six damn months, and I've been planning to rob the safe this whole damn time on this exact day!\"\n\n\"You've got to be kidding me—\"\n\n\"And now you two idiots have fucked it all up! So I'm gonna have to settle for the register's take,\"his voice is commanding, the tone of a professional. \"Now, both of you drop your guns and put the spilled money in the bag.\"\n\nSirens blare and tires screech outside, and all three of us share a concerned glance. \n\n\"Truce?\"I plead, mainly with the cashier.\n\nTwo cops burst through the glass doors, literally shattering them with their shotguns as they walk through. \n\n\"Everyone put your fucking hands up!\"one of them screams as he racks a shell into his weapon.\n\n\"Fuck you, we've got hostages!\"damn, this guy is a professional. \n\nThe three of us are pointing our guns at the cops now (the rookie is more weeping than anything), but the officers aren't backing down.\n\n\"Fuck your hostages!\"weird tactics for police officers. \"We've been on the force for five years, and we've come here for one thing...\"\n\n*Are you kidding me?*\n\n\"Drop your guns, and shove all that spilled cash back in the bag....\"\n\n*Son of a bitch...*\n___\n\n**Thanks for reading. Sub to /r/BeagleTales for daily weirdness**" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your girlfriend has always hated you, and is constantly making attempts to ruin your life. However, everything she does inadvertently makes your life better. Today, ever oblivious, you propose to her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As he waited for her response, kneeling the way he imagined over and over in his head, her eyes looked softer than they ever had before. \n\n\"Of course,\"she answered \"but first, I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes.\"\n\nHe stood up and closed his eyes at her request. He never would have guessed that would be her response, but that's what he loved about her. She was so unpredictable, and the things she did always ended up working out so well that he just began blindly trusting her.\n\nShe pulled the handgun from her bag. The one she bought when she found the ring in his sock drawer when she was searching for dirt on him. She knew that if he asked, she had really failed and that was her only option. With the sights aimed right between his closed eyes, she knew she couldn't miss. This would finally be it. She took a deep breath and placed her finger on the trigger. She too had been replaying this scene in her head.\n\nThe one detail she got wrong was his smile. \n\nThat goofy, slightly crooked grin that he always wore. The one he had at the top of the Ferris wheel where they had their first kiss, and where he miraculously overcame his crippling fear of heights. The one he had at their prom when they were announced as royalty, unaware that his pants she \"tailored\"were supposed to fall to the ground during the spotlight dance when she pulled a loose thread. That damn smile. \n\nIn all of the ways she saw this playing out, she didn't expect to be unable to pull the trigger. She lowered the gun, thinking of all of the times her facade of happiness was replaced with actual joy with this scrawny man child. Her thoughts turned to her father. She knew all along that the brave firefighter never would have wanted her to avenge him. He gave his life for that scared little boy and everyone called him a hero. All this time she saw him as the villain who killed her dad, but somewhere along the line she grew to really mean the cheesy words she had to force in the beginning. She supposed that kindness must just run in her family. \n\nShe leaned in and kissed him, forgetting the loaded Glock in her hand. His eyes opened and met hers, but soon moved to the black object in her hand. She opened her mouth to spew out the first excuse she could think of, but he spoke first.\n\n\"Is that a gen 4 G16?\"He asked, surprising her with his lack of fear.\n\n\"Yeah, the guy at the store said it was the best one.\"She lied. He had said that, but she had no idea what it was called. She went with the first thing she was recommended because she figured they all killed people about the same.\n\n\"Every day on the way home from work, I stop at the gun shop down the street to stare at that exact gun. I was planning on buying it, but I spent the money I saved up for it on your ring instead. How in the world did you know?\"\n\nShe didn't of course, so she just kind of smiled in response.\n\n\"You seriously must be able to read minds.\"He continued as he wrapped his arms around her, \"You're like some sort of super hero.\"\n\nShe supposed that ran in her family too." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "as an amputee you experience phantom arm syndrome. Then one day you realize you can use it to punch ghosts." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everyone always asks me what it felt like to lose my arm. Everyone always asks me what it feels like to no longer have it.\n \nOne answer I'd always wanted to give but never had the courage to, was that it felt mostly like hopelessness. I had been a pianist, I'd lived and judged my life based on my ability to make people feel with music. I was crippled. I could no longer play my favorite pieces. I could no longer practice new ones. Losing the arm was essentially me losing my life. \n\nIt's difficult to describe exactly how it feels to have an itch on an arm that isn't there. Imagine the feeling of sitting in a hairdresser's chair and having that annoying little itch crop up on your nose. Now imagine, that your arms are bound to your sides and there's nothing you can do to eliminate that annoying, burning, itch. It's not a terribly nice feeling. \n\nI learned that you can scratch your missing limb by using a mirror. You stand in front of the mirror and scratch your opposite arm while you look into your reflection. Remarkably, this works to eliminate the itch. I learned something else while doing just this very thing a few weeks ago. \n\nI was standing in front of the mirror, awkwardly scratching my elbow on the corner of my bathroom door, when I saw something in the mirror. A girl with eyes the color of charcoal, teeth yellow as rotten lemons, and blood seeping down her pale, pallid complexion.\n\nBefore I knew exactly what I was doing, I lashed out with my missing arm. It felt like I did anyway. Something incredible happened, I felt my missing fist smash into the face of the incorporeal entity. I felt her teeth come loose, pain explode in my 'hand' and a ghostly tooth lodge into my fist. \n\nI'm not exactly sure who was more surprised, her, or me. \n\nLights began to flicker in the room and objects around my sink began to hover menacingly. My electric toothbrush launched towards my head and I was narrowly able to dodge out of the way. It firmly embedded itself in the wall behind me. Using the mirror as a reference, I leaped on the ghastly girl and smashed my non-existent fist into her face until she stopped squirming. \n\nShe faded away shortly afterwards. She never bothered me again.\n\nI'm not sure exactly where the spirits go after I beat them to a pulp, but I have purpose again. Besides, the pay for someone capable of genuinely dispatching a ghost is fantastic. Honestly, I think people mostly pay for the spectacle of a one armed man fighting an invisible ghost. \n\nNow when people ask me what it feels like to be missing an arm, I reply confidently. Sometimes it feels like I never lost it at all. \n\n*****************************************\n/r/SirLemoncakes. This was fun to write. " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Twenty years ago you summoned a demon. It is super cool and has been your friend for the last two decades, using its vast powers to help you achieve all your dreams. Today though, its bill came due. It needs to return to hell with you - it has dreams too, and it needs your help to achieve them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On this morning, I was surprised to find my demon unusually excited. Over the last two decades Balazar had, despite my best efforts, been supernaturally moody and withdrawn. I thought perhaps, after a period of adjustment, he would acclimate to the scenery of Earth. As my riches grew, I got him appointments with the best therapists money could buy. But nothing quite worked. Until, quite suddenly, this morning, I found Balazar bouncing around the living room like a demon possessed.\n\nHe picked up the children and danced around, letting them grab his horns, as they giggled.\n\n“My turn” he chanted, “my turn, it’s my turn.” Soon they joined in singing with him. \n\nI rubbed my eyes. “Jesus christ Bally. What the hell’s up with you?”\n\n“Hell is up with me John. Hell exactly.”\n\nI shook my head, “I’m going to watch the news.” I walked over to the couch, sat down and turned on the TV. From here you could see sweeping views of the whole city. My neighbours were Brad Pitt and Slash. Imagine that. The anchors were talking about my company on the news: “and looks like some bad news for J Corp this morning.” I sat up, confused. Bad news? Those were two words had hadn’t heard together in, well, twenty years. \n\n“Since the markets opened this morning, stocks have fallen by 20%.”\n\n“What!” \n\nIn the background Balazar was still chanting, “my turn. My turn.”\n\n“Balazar, will you shut the hell up.”\n\n“Hell!” he cried, “we’re going to hell.”\n\n“we’re going to hell” the kids laughed after him.\n\nI pulled out my phone. Ten missed calls. I blinked. “We’re down. Why are we down? For christ sake Balazar will you put the kids down and stop dancing?” He put them down, but the smile was still plastered to his face as he skipped over, his hooves clacking on the polished floorboards. “What’s going on?”\n\n“Your stocks are down.”\n\n“Yes. I know. Why?”\n\nBalazar shrugged. “They’ve been artificially overpriced for years because of my magic.”\n\n“Yes. I’m aware.” There was a silence. “I feel like I’m missing something here.”\n\n“Oh John” he leapt forward and hugged me, “you don’t see, do you? It’s my turn.”\n\n“Your turn for what? And just calm down okay? You’re like the kids on Christmas.”\n\n“Okay” he took a few deep breaths, fanning himself, “I’m calm. I’m calm. Do I look calm?”\n\n“You look like you’re on drugs.”\n\n“Twenty years ago you summoned me.”\n\n“That’s right.”\n\n“No I mean. Twenty years to the day.”\n\nI shrugged, “Happy anniversary?”\n\n“John. Don’t you remember? The spell you used to cast me. It was a two part spell. A contract. You get me for 20 years. I get you for 20 years.”\n\n“I’m sorry what?”\n\n“Don’t be sorry. Be excited! We’re going to hell! Oh hell is nothing like they tell you John. It’s really quite a marvellous place, and there’s companies there too, and you’ll really like it trust me.”\n\n“I don’t quite understand. Me help you?”\n\n“Yes. That’s what the spell is. Didn’t you read the fine print of the spell?”\n\n“Read the fine print. Shit Bally I was ten years old! I pulled the book down from my grandmother’s shelf, dusted it off, flicked it open to a random page and just started reading.”\n\n“Best decision you’ve ever made John. Trust me. Ok we’re leaving in five.”\n\n“Leaving. No we’re not leaving.”\n\n“We’re going to hell.”\n\n“I’m not going to hell.”\n\n“Yes. You really are” he gestured with his hand. And I took a step forward unwillingly.\n\n“How did you do that?”\n\n“Part of the spell. Look I’m not going to use it unless its absolutely necessary. You’ve been a good sport to me, I’ll be a good one to you.”\n\n“Bally. I can’t just go. I have a family here. A company to run.”\n\nHe waved a dismissive hand. “Time runs differently in Hell. 20 years won’t even be a day here.”\n\n“But it will be 20 years for me” I answered, “in hell. I mean — what, what help do you think I’m even going to be? I’m not a demon, okay, I can’t wave my hands and make things happen.”\n\n“Oh but John. You can” he lowered his voice, “you have no idea the power unclaimed souls wield in the afterlife. No idea.” I swallowed.\n\nBalazar pointed to the wall, and a dark portal opened up. “Oh god. Bally please. Don’t, don’t make me go.”\n\n“Think about it John. This is what you signed up for. You get a choice to go willingly. Or to be dragged along. But you are coming. Satan knows the shit I went through for your dreams.”\n\n“And what exactly are *your* dreams?” \n\nBalazar smiled. “To rule” he said. “All of it.” He slapped a hand on my shoulder, “just you wait” he said, “you're going to love it.” I bolted for the door. But halfway my legs stopped working. I turned around and marched toward the portal, as my children echoed Balazar’s chant from the kitchen.\n\n“You'll be back before lunch” Bally reassured me, as I passed through the portal and darkness fell around me.\n\n[r/jmoorestories](https://www.reddit.com/r/jmoorestories)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "In the canine world, Humans are celestial beings that live for more than 500 years at a time. The caretaker of you, and the last seven generations of your family is about to die." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gods should never die, yet there he was. Wasting away in his armchair like an old leaf, curling up on himself. \n\nMy mother told me, when I was just a pup, that there is no such thing as an end for our human. Not the way that we end. We dry up like a puddle in summer, only there for our season.\n\nBut humans die like mountains. It's a slow process of unbecoming, something that begins and ends well before we ever see it.\n\nI spend my nights there by his side now, listening to his breathing go hollow. He is losing himself moment by moment. Breath by breath. \n\nWhen my people die, we want to go off alone. My mother died that way. I knew it when she nuzzled her head into mine and gave my muzzle one final kiss.\n\n*Be good*, she had told me. *Always do what the master says.*\n\nI had asked if I could go with her. See her to the gate at the end of the world. \n\n*No,* she had said. *I must do this alone.*\n\nBut my human wanted me there. He has always wanted me. From my earliest memories, I was the favored child. I was the only one he kept when my siblings went off, one after the other, to new families. New lives. New humans to guard and serve and love. \n\nBut like my mother, I was special. I was chosen. I was meant to spend my forever with our human.\n\nSomehow, my forever has become longer than his. \n\nWe sit like we always do now. The strange metal creature hunkers at his side, all those tubes curling from it. Always hissing away. He takes it everywhere with him, wheels squeaking, even when he refills my food bowl with a trembling hand. I was frightened of it at first, but both of us are here at master's side, now. \n\nMy spot has always been the sheepskin rug at the floor beside my human's chair. I always lay there watching the light-box he likes to put on at the end of the day. Watching him smile. Lifting my head to accept affection when his hand seeks the top of my head.\n\nTonight, the light-box is not on. It's just as dead-eyed as he is.\n\nMy human wilts in his chair, and I know by the smell of him that he is changing. Decomposing. He has beginning-of-winter smell, the soft subtle scent of decay.\n\n\"Come up here, Puppy,\"he tells me. Every day since my earliest days, he has called me Puppy, for I am always his. \n\nI hesitate. Tilt my ears back, nervous and uncertain.\n\nMy human pats his lap again. He never lets me up there, except on the grey days. Like the day the other human he once lived with and laughed with and held and danced in the kitchen... simply vanished. Her smell lingered in the house, in the things she left behind, but she never returned. Only my master came home that day, dressed in all black.\n\nHe held me then and wept salt-tears into my neck. \n\nI couldn't understand then.\n\nBut I am starting to understand now. \n\nI pull myself up into his lap. I curl up in a tight circle on his legs, and he rests a wrinkled, shuddering hand on me.\n\n\"We've had a good run, haven't we?\"he murmurs. He runs his fingers through my fur. \n\nI only sigh and relax. This is where I'm meant to be. Right here with my human, who is certain as the mountain. \n\nRain patters against the window. The night is crying because I cannot.\n\n\"You'll be good for my sister,\"he says. \n\nI cock my head, quizzically. Trying to make sense of what he means.\n\n\"She was never much of a dog person, but she promised she would keep after you. Give you bones. Just like I used to.\"\n\nI lean my head into his hand. There is no reason for him to worry. He is the mountain. He may be fading, but mountains can never die. Not before I do.\n\nHis breath is thin and weary. He inclines his head back against the recliner.\n\n\"She has a yard. A big yard. You'll like it there. So much better than here.\"\n\nI couldn't like anything better than here. I stare up at him, and he must see the fear in my eyes, because his face cracks in a smile.\n\n\"Don't you worry. You still have me, tonight. I'm still right here.\"\n\nHis hand keeps petting me, over and over. Rubbing circles under my ears like he has since I was a pup. \n\nI lay there with him, sharing heat, as the rain pours outside. As the metal machine feeding into his nose hisses away. \n\nThe petting stills and slows as he slips into sleep. His breath ragged and uncertain. But his hand sits heavy and warm on my back.\n\nI haven't slept on my master's lap since I was small enough to miss the smell of my mother. He always laughed at me and told me I was no lap dog anymore.\n\nBut tonight, we can pretend time hasn't happened. \n\nI sleep there with him as the darkness sweeps over the house. It creeps through the living room while we sleep, and somehow, I don't hear it. I thought I would hear it. Master always tells me I could hear a cricket whisper. I thought I would know.\n\nBut I don't realize until I wake to a grey morning, the windows slick with wet. \n\nI nudge my master's hand, but it lays cold and still as the dawn. I whimper and whine and nuzzle and lick, but the mountain has gone. It is like looking up and seeing a hole in the sky.\n\nI sit there on his lap. Willing time to turn itself backwards. \n\nI know I will die alone, like my mother, and her mother, and all the generations before me. \n\nBut at least my master did not.\n***\n/r/nickofstatic for stories from me and my best friend NickofNight :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You’ve been kidnapped by the SCP foundation. Why? You have the ability to ‘Mr. Magoo’ yourself out of anything. Sniper about to assassinate you? You bend down to pick up a penny just in time, SCP-049 about to touch you? A Sudden cannonball knocks them away. All with you being none the wiser." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "**Item #:** SCP-777\n\n**Object Class:** Euclid\n\n**Special Containment Procedures:** No special safety procedures are required for the containment of SCP-777. SCP-777 is free to move about Site-19 so long as it does not attempt to engage with other SCPs, enter restricted areas, leave the premises or cause obstruction to foundation personnel. Contact with SCP-777 is permitted, but any divulgence of information or hostile engagement not cleared by the corresponding Class B or higher officer on duty will be met with harsh reprimands and potential disciplinary action, following the events of **Addendum 777.01** (see below).\n\nA Class B officer is to check on the status of SCP-777 at regular intverals to ensure the safety of the subject and adherence with the containment procedures. SCP-777 is generally cooperative with foundation personnel, and verbal commands or negotiations are to be used as a first means in securing the subject.\n\n**Description:** SCP-777 appears to be a human male, aged 23, with long brown hair, green eyes, and no defining facial features beyond a slightly pointer than average nose. All physical examination of SCP-777 shows no deviation from typical humans, and in all regards, SCP-777 is an average human male. \n\nHowever, SCP-777s anomalous properties are observable if SCP-777 is placed in harm's way. Should there be any unwanted resultant effects to SCP-777, SCP-777 will act, seemingly unconsciously to avoid any and all harm to themselves. This harm or damage to the subject that is avoided appears to be both physical and mental in nature. It should be noted that this anomalous property only applies to unwanted damage, see **Addendum 777.02** (below).\n\nSCP-777 has demonstrated that the intent to cause damage to SCP-777 is irrelevant regarding its anomalous properties. Any and all damage, intentional or not, directed at SCP-777 will not affect the subject. Following the events of **Addendum 777.06** (see below), any experimentation using equipment that has a chance exceeding >0.01% of causing an Orange level alert must be cleared with the Class A officer on-site beforehand.\n\n \n\n**Addendum 777.01:** During an incident where a Class D foundation member was engaged in janitorial duties, SCP-777 entered the area of operation and left \"bloody muddy footprints all over the place!\"This engagement resulted in the SCP-777 immediately apologizing, although the foundation member did not appear to accept this apology. In the ensuing moments, as the apology was rejected, the Class D foundation member appears to enter a trance-like state. This was not, however, harmful to the member's health as once the apology was accepted by the foundation personnel, SCP-777 vacated the area of operation and the member's mental faculties returned. They were dazed for a few minutes after, but this is pending confirmation by security-tape review. Post-event psychiatric analysis indicates they have no recollection or awareness of what occurred, and subsequent interviews show that SCP-777 was indeed unaware of their anomalous properties as the previous description states. \n\n**Addendum 777.02:** SCP-777, in attempt to cause minor repairable damage to the subject, was placed in a room with a buzzer. SCP-777 was told to wait in there for an hour, and that the buzzer would deliver a small electric shock of 9 Volts should it be pressed. SCP-777 was observed not pressing the buzzer until 31 minutes and 21 seconds had elapsed. The buzzer then delivered its electric shock, and monitors indicate that SCP-777 did suffer some damage. SCP-777 pressed the buzzer 4 more times over the course of 20 minutes, before appearing to grow bored of it. SCP-777 then loudly complained, before seemingly accidentally pressing the buzzer, which did not deliver an electric shock. Post-test analysis reveals that there was a malfunction in the buzzer, frying the circuitry. Data suggest minuatre black holes developed and evaporated, but results are pending further analysis.\n\n**Addendum 777.06:** During a test using explosives, SCP-777 used its anomalous properties to caused the walls of the test chamber to undergo a sudden decompression event. This unfortunately led to a cascading failure in containment cells as the explosives detonated, leading to the release of SCP-173. 14 D-Class foundation personnel were lost in the event, and any further testing is that could lead to an Orange level alert is prohibited. SCP-777 was not harmed in the event, as SCP-173 appears to have missed SCP-777's presence. Furthermore, SCP-777 was found with a single unit of American currency, valued at $0.01. SCP-777 claims that this 'lucky penny' appeared on the floor right before the explosion, which as absorbed by the falling wall. Analysis of debris indicates that all projectiles formed a 'null-zone' around SCP-777, narrowly avoiding any damage as it bent to pick up the 'lucky penny'. Further experimentation on culturally significant lucky items in hazardous situations manifesting in SCP-777's vicinity is currently undergoing review. \n\n**Addendums 777.00, 777.03, 777.04** and **777.05** are currently not available to those under Security Clearance Level 2.\n\n***\n\nCome visit /r/ThomasWrites for more really lucky beings. For those of you with Level 2 Security Clearance, there are please enter your creditentials to view the [**Capture Log for SCP-777**](https://www.reddit.com/r/ThomasWrites/comments/ic6q99/wp_youve_been_kidnapped_by_the_scp_foundation_why/?)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "In an alternate reality JK Rowling died writing The Deathly Hallows and requested George RR Martin finish the book. He accepted and takes over at the Battle of Hogwarts with no instruction on how it's supposed to end." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "George got a call from Martha at Bloomsbury only two days after he turned in the final manuscript of *Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows*, which Martin advised calling *Harry Potter and the Dawn of Night*, mostly due to how he had written it.\n\n\"Hullo, Martha,\"he said.\n\n\"Hi, George.\"Her tone was Splenda-sweet, and George knew instantly something was off.\n\n\"Oh, you don't like the book.\"\n\n\"It's not that--\"\n\n\"Fantastic. I take all this valuable time off working on book six, only for you people to turn around and tell me it's garbage.\"He had been making some scrambled eggs. He slammed the bowl down on the counter. \"I can't wrangle with you wardens of art at the moment. I understand I wrote something perhaps more complicated ethically than Jo would have, but I think she'd find the tone really matches how her characters have matured into adulthood.\"\n\n\"I agree with you in spirit,\"the editor said, carefully. \"However, do you believe it was necessary to have a Slytherin student effectively addicted to killing?\"\n\n\"No battle is fun without a blood-monger.\"\n\n\"Well, I don't think our book's fan base will be invigorated to learn that Hermione is gutted by a brand new character when she goes to find Ron and is left to die. Or that when Ron found her the new student--\"she paused, apparently to find the right line \"'spilled open Ron's jugular in a thick spray of arterial scarlet', nor that Ron then 'collapsed, reaching for Hermione's still fingers, but not quite able to reach. They lay that way until the staff began the grim job of rounding up bodies, in the morning.' I mean, these are two of the primary characters. They just... died.\"\n\n\"As people do,\"George said, sagely.\n\n\"Listen. Today I would really like you to review your draft and reconsider what points you could revise.\"George scoffed, offended, but the editor continued relentlessly, \"These people aren't wanting to read a George R.R. Martin book, you know? They're hoping for a sweet and wholesome conclusion where Harry Potter's friends aren't murdered by a power-hungry sociopath. Additionally, since this is technically a children's book, I think we'll need to remove both sex scenes.\"\n\n\"Both?\"\n\n\"Both, George.\"\n\n\"Can I at least get a fade to black?\"he asked, even though those were super lame and the domain of cop-out writers. No. George did not flinch when it came to life's many and varied fluids.\n\n\"Probably not.\"There was still a smile in her voice. \"Okay, George? Does that all make sense?\"\n\n\"I suppose.\"He stirred his scrambled eggs viciously. \"I don't see why you would ask me to write it if you didn't want it to *sound* like me.\"\n\n\"Surely you can try a voice switch. Pretend you're an actor putting on a new accent.\"\n\nGeorge R.R. Martin hung up the phone and growled to his empty kitchen, \"I don't *use* accents.\"\n***\nGeorge skimmed a few pages of the draft edits he had received from Martha. He had cut out perhaps too much of the boring magic bits, except to give that Longbottom boy a flaming sword, but he needed a good redemption moment, George felt.\n\n>Neville stood on the edge of the wall, staring grimly at the roving army of the dead ten thousand strong ***(really?? there's no legion of the undead in HP, George! (well, technically there is the Inferi army, but I know you had NO idea they existed, so you can't pretend that's what you meant.))*** below him, like a boiling sea of ants, just as relentless and hungry for war. He unsheathed his sword called Death Eaters' Bane, its pommel a snarling lion with red-jeweled eyes. It had been his father's sword. Perhaps if Frank Longbottom had been carrying Bane when the Lestrange fell upon him that bleak night, he would be alive to pass his sword onto his son himself.\n>\n>***I appreciate the tension but we said you can't write your own backstory. You get a little carried away.***\n\nThe next passage was the only critique George agreed with.\n\n>Dumbledore turned his wand on one of the Slytherin students, who had just sent a first-year Hufflepuff, running for her life, into an early grave. The raw heat of his anger locked the child in place and he raised his wand, eyes red and mad with fury, like a bear who's just seen its cub murdered.\n>\n>\"That,\"Dumbledore murmured, \"was a very poor choice indeed.\"\n>\n>He performed a rending curse and the boy split open and scattered across in the dining hall, his bones clinking dully against the stone.\n>\n>The headmaster hurried away to the rest of the battle.\n\nThis time Martha's note read simply: ***DUMBLEDORE DIED ALREADY. You can't bring him back just to kill him again. And he wouldn't murder a student like that...***\n\n\"Wait,\"George said to himself. \"Really?\"He double checked his notes. That seemed to be from the part Jo wrote. He always told himself he'd get around to reading that, but why bother when his publisher gave him such a good summary already.\n\nWhen he finished reading, most of the manuscript seemed solid. Martha, it seemed, was grossly overreacting. For example, Martha did not care for Harry removing Voldemort's head at the end. She explained that it would make more sense for his old age and the wrongness of his being to make him simply disappear.\n\nGeorge rolled his eyes. \"What kids don't like a good bit of beheading?\"And besides, it would be reckless to use a rule that so readily eschews physics. George was a man of realism, after all. He did not put things in books that weren't *feasible*.\n\nAnd then, of course, he ended with the respective love interests finally bedding. Any story about bodies and fervor must acknowledge the softer side of if. Martha had struck out the whole scene of Ginny crying over her dead brothers and then leaping into Harry's bed shortly afterward.\n\nBelow it she wrote only the words, ***no no NO George. Not appropriate!***\n\nGeorge called Martha up when he finished reading. When she answered, wearily, he said, \"What if just Ron dies? Would that be okay?\"\n\n\"And the sex scenes.\"\n\nGeorge was quiet for a long moment.\n\n\"*George*,\"she said, sternly. \"You promised Jo you'd write *her* book, not *your* book.\"\n\nHe whined like a child, \"Gods, you make everything so much worse,\"and hung up on her. When he calmed down, he would take all the good bits out of it. \n\nFor now, it was time to go to his file on *The Winds of Winter* and rewrite the same sentence over and over again for a few hours. Surely that would count as progress.\n***\n/r/shoringupfragments\n\nThanks for reading. :)\n\n**I posted [a brief satirical excerpt](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6xsruw/wp_in_an_alternate_reality_jk_rowling_died/dmiduq6/) from George's version of the story. Thanks for reading!**\n\nETA: The conversation that finally makes George quit the project\n\nG: (angrily) Look, I'm never going to win a Hugo off this thing with Jo's underdeveloped ideas and predictable plots.\n\nM: Well, Jo's ideas had no problem [beating yours out for a Hugo before](https://www.reddit.com/r/todayilearned/comments/28vc30/til_that_george_rr_martins_a_storm_of_swords_lost/).\n\nG: \\*rage quits*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You accidentally summon a demon while reading out Ikea product names." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Odiosis was a boring city, \nSo positively dull. \nIt was so stuffy and humdrum you'd go mad out your skull. \nThe only thing of interest was it's name, so witty. \nBut other than that, the excitement was null. \n\n---------------------------------------------\n\nThe playhouse was tame, \nThe music hall lame. \nIn fact, the whole town was positively mundane. \nMonotony was normality, and everything was the same. \nBut then again, 'boring' in Latin was literally the town's name. \n\n--------------------------------------------\n\nOur story begins with a man oh so boring. \nThe name on his tag read: \"Alan McKia.\"\nHe spent his days stacking shelves in Ikea. \nFilling them up with flat packs and flooring, \nMost of it shipped in from South Korea. \n\n-------------------------------------------\n\nNow, Alan could tell you with a smirk on his face, \nThat he knew every product in this place. \nFrom dullest of carpets to most lavish bookcase. \nAnd whether by chance, or perhaps divine grace, \nThere was a hidden meaning to the names in that space. \n\n--------------------------------------------\n\nYou'd never think, in a town so humdrum, \nThat anything interesting would ever conspire. \nBut poor Alan would soon be struck dumb, \nAs he would soon unwittingly unleash hell's fire, \nAnd summon a daemon - unlucky for some. \n\n--------------------------------------------\n\nFor Alan had read the products in line, \nOne after the other, and things had seemed fine. \nBut what Alan did not know, at that moment in time, \nWas that those words had been cursed, and when said in rhyme, \nThey would open a rift in space-time. \n\n------------------------------------------\n\nThe daemon stared at Alan, surveying him whole. \nAnd promised to grant him any one wish. \nBut it was worth noting, it'd cost him his soul, \nA delicacy the daemon would surely relish, \nBut would Alan choose to pay this Faustian toll? \n\n------------------------------------------\n\n\"Sure.\"Said Alan, without hesitation. \n\"We've just gotten new products shipped to this location. \nSo, here's what I'll do, with this daemonic donation, \nI'll ask that you construct our new flat-packs, for display in formation! \nFor they have brought our team incredible frustration!\"\n\n------------------------------------------\n\nThe daemon laughed, and said \"is that all?\"\n\"This hardly seems fitting for a creature like me. \nPerhaps you'd rather have me kill your manager, Paul? \nAnd then the new manager, you might possibly be?\"\nBut Alan puffed his chest out, and then stood up tall. \n\n-----------------------------------------\n\n\"Now, listen here, you daemonic little shit! \nIf you can't build the flat-packs, then say so and quit!\"\nThe daemon blushed, and snarled a bit, \nIn fact, the great beast looked like he might lose it. \nBut in the end, reluctantly pulled out his tool kit. \n\n----------------------------------------\n\nFor seventeen hours, the daemon did try, \nTo put together the flat-packs, but found it quite hard. \n\"For fucking fuck's sake, who would ever buy, \nA fucking flat-pack that leaves one's hands cut and scarred?\"\nBut Alan stood watchful, wearing a smirk so wry. \n\n-----------------------------------------\n\nAfter hours of failure, the daemon did screech, \n\"This fucking shit is impossible to teach! \nEven with an instruction manual for each! \nThese flat-packs are far beyond the reach! \nOf mortals and immortals alike, I impeach!\"\n\n---------------------------------------- \n\nAt this point, Alan broke his silence. \n\"Then go back to hell, you useless cunt.\"\nThe daemon snarled, in unwilling compliance. \n\"Your soul remains yours.\"He said with a grunt. \nAnd then leapt back into the pit with deflated arrogance. \n\n----------------------------------------\n\nSo, that is the story of Alan the Boring, \nWhose greatest skill was the art of stock storing. \nHe was neither an artist, a knight or scientist. \nHe had neither quickness of hand, mind or wrist. \nBut he was a retailer, and retailers don't quit. \n\nEven when dealing with daemons and their shit. \n\nEDIT: I returned to correct a spelling error, which I discovered with terror, upon reading aloud my work. I had left it in there, so visible and bare, but I have now rectified this quirk." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You ate your last apple almost a full day ago. The second hand on the clock creeps closer and closer to the 24-hour mark. Holed up in a cabin you ready your shotgun. You can feel them out there, waiting, watching. The Doctors." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One of the reasons I moved into this cabin out in the wilderness was because of the seclusion. I wanted the peace and quiet so that I could write uninterrupted. The downside is how far I am from the nearest town. It’s an hour drive minimum, and unfortunately my battery died on my truck. To make matters worse, I’m out of apples. That’s right. *Apples.* \n\nA storm hit last night and knocked out the electricity. It’s still not running, and I’ve never gotten cell signal way out here. A journey on foot is too dangerous. There’s no way I’ll reach town in time and if I get caught out in the open, then it’s game over.\n\nSo, I’m just going to have to hunker down in the cabin until my electricity is restored or by some miracle, help arrives.\n\nI boarded up my windows. All except one, on the top floor. It’s too small for anyone to fit through, but my gun... well, that fits just fine.\n\nTwo hours to go. Two more hours until they arrive. My shotgun is downstairs and fully loaded. My rifle is upstairs, also fully loaded.\n\nOne hour to go. I swear I can hear them in the distance scribbling notes that nobody can read. I’m becoming more tense with each passing second. \n\nFucking apples.\n\nOne minute. They’re almost here. Come on, you highly educated motherfuckers! I’m ready. I’m fucking ready. You pieces of—\n\nTwo consecutive knocks on the front door.\n\nThe Doctors have arrived.\n\nTwo more knocks on my back door. Two more on the front. The back. The front. They start knocking on the walls, the boarded up windows... I can even hear them knocking on my truck. \n\n*knock, knock*\n\n*knock, knock*\n\n*knock, knock*\n\nIt’s the double doctor knock. They usually knock twice and then they enter, but not here. Not at my house. I made sure of it.\n\nI run upstairs and peer out the small window. There’s hundreds of them. A horde of doctors. \n\nI pick up my rifle and take a shot. I hit a doctor and he goes down. The other doctors run towards him. They kneel over him. \n\nWhat are they doing?\n\nThey spread apart.\n\nOh god. \n\n*They healed him.*\n\nWhy didn’t I think of that? They’re fucking doctors.\n\nThey all simultaneously look up at me. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Something shoots past my ear and sticks into the wall beside me. I pull it out.\n\nIt’s a syringe.\n\nI rush downstairs. \n\nThe knocking starts again. \n\n*knock, knock*\n\nI can feel it below my feet. Oh shit, they’re in the crawl space.\n\n*knock, knock*\n\nI hear a drill. One they use to get through bone, I assume. A drill bit pops through the floor and misses my foot by an inch. The bit goes down and out. I see through the hole the eye of a doctor staring up at me.\n\nAnother drill starts up, and then another. Before I know it, all I can hear are drills. One bit after another popping up through the floor. They’re weakening the floor.\n\nI run for the stairs. A hand bursts through the floor and grabs me by the ankle, tripping me. Another hand breaks through and grabs me by the balls.\n\n“Cough.”\n\nHe’s trying to give me a physical. \n\nI knock his hand away with the butt of my shotgun and fire. Instant amputation. This distracts the other doctors. I run upstairs.\n\nI look out the window. Those that aren’t in the crawlspace are now sprinting towards it. That means they’ve made entry through the floor. I run out the room and look down the stairs. They’re inside. I shoot one as he ascends the steps.\n\nBoom. Distraction.\n\nI shoot another.\n\nBoom. Distraction.\n\nI shoot a third. \n\nBoom. Distract— oh no. He’s dead. There’s nothing they can do for him. They didn’t even stop to assess. They’re practically on top of me. \n\nI sprint towards the attic.\n\nBoom. Kill.\n\nBoom. Kill.\n\nGod dammit! They don’t slow down for kills.\n\n*Click.*\n\n*Click.*\n\nOut of ammo.\n\nA doctor sprints towards me with a thermometer.\n\n“Say, ‘ahh.’”\n\nFuck you, doctor bitch.\n\nI kick him in the balls.\n\nThey assess the damage.\n\n“Take two of these and hold this cold pack on it,” I hear one say as I climb into the attic.\n\nI seal it shut.\n\n*knock, knock*\n\n*knock, knock*\n\n“How are you feeling?” They begin asking.\n\n“Are you taking any medication?”\n\n“What symptoms are you experiencing?”\n\nFear. That’s what I’m experiencing.\n\nThe drills start back up.\n\nThey must all be in the house now. If I can get out of the house, I can make a run for it.\n\nIn my attic is an old ax. I begin chopping at the wall. \n\n*chop* \n\n*chop*\n\n*chop*\n\nA fist breaks through from below.\n\n*chop*\n\n*chop*\n\n*chop*\n\nAnother fist.\n\n*chop* \n\n*chop*\n\n*chop*\n\nAs another fist breaks through, I ram my shoulder into the wall. It moves. I ram again. It moves more. I rear back and use all my strength. Breaking through the wall, I fall about 25 feet to the ground.\n\nI’m hurt, and the doctors can sense it. But adrenaline propels me forward. I run through the woods. I can hear the doctors gaining on me. The leaves crunch under our feet.\n\nI’m running as fast as I can with what appears to be a sprained ankle and broken ribs.\n\nThey’re almost on me. \n\nRight as one grabs me I slip and tumble down a hill. I repeatedly bounce off the ground. The doctor rolling beside me. \n\nI hit a tree. \n\nI hit a rock.\n\nI continue tumbling, and then the ground finally levels out.\n\nI’m in agonizing pain. I open my eyes and see the doctor lying to my left, unconscious. The other doctors are carefully working their way down the hill. \n\nI roll over, defeated, and look up. I’m under a tree. Something is hanging from the limbs. Are those...?\n\nAPPLES!\n\nI search the ground around me. I’m surrounded by apples. The doctors are almost to me. I pick up an apple. The doctors sprint towards me. I raise the apple to my mouth and take a bite. The doctors stop moving.\n\n“How about them apples?” I laugh and then proceed to cough up blood.\n\nThe doctors look defeated.\n\n“That’s right! Fuck off, doctors,” I shout through the pain.\n\nThey just stand there. Staring.\n\n“What!?” I snap.\n\n“You’re pretty beat up. Want us to check you out?” A doctor asks.\n\nI sigh.\n\n“Ok, fine.”\n\n_____________________________________________\n\n**Check out r/TheGoshfather for more stories.**\n\n**Thanks for reading!**" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You were once the demon king. \"Defeated\"by the hero, you went into hiding to pursue a simpler life. Today the \"hero\"has appeared, threatening you family to pay tribute, not realizing who you actually are. Today you show them what happens when you have something worth fighting to protect." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I'm not surprised he doesn't recognize me. The last time he saw me, I wore dragonscale armor, my horns and wings a prominent part of my figure. I had held a battleaxe of thick stygan iron, and my booming voice shook cavern ceilings. Now, my horns are hidden by my wide straw hat, and my wings by my brown, dirt-stained cloak, with but a walking stick in my hands. My skin is about five shades tanner, and I must say I've aged much better than my foe.\n\nStill, there he stood. Kasarak the Mighty. Slayer of the Great Evil who plunged entire cities into complete and utter chaos. Supposedly the greatest man on the continent, and I have to watch as he and his soldiers hold a knife to the throats of my wife, daughter, and son. \n\n\"Gather your valuables, islander, and pray that I don't look to entertain myself while I wait\"He says, running a finger down the cheek of my trembling wife. I faked a submissive nod, running up the hill to my thatched hut, an item I made with my bare hands. His eyes followed me as I uncovered the chest buried underneath the door, noticing neither the arcane symbols lacing its sides, nor the lasso I slipped into my hands. I placed the box at his feet, scurrying back in supposed submission.\n\n\"One little box?\"Kasarak noted with a frown.\n\n\"Ah, but in that box is something more valuable than anything on this island\"I say, choosing my words carefully. Kasarak, years before I fought him, had been renown to tell lies from the words of others. Fortunatly, I was not lying. Or at least, I wasn't be as soon as he opened the box. \n\nA flashing light and a booming sound struck as my family was teleported into the box's demiplane, safely outside of the \"hero's\"reach. In the same instant, my lasso wrapped around one of his four guard's necks. Pulling him off balance, I slammed my staff into a second guard's temple. In the second it took Kasarak to react, I swept the legs out from under the remaining two, sending them sprawling on top of their companions. By the time he had his drawn his sword, his honor guard was unconscience. \n\n\"Whoever you are, know that I will kill you in the most agonizing way possible,\"He says, as we circle each other, sword pointed to quarterstaff. \n\nI laugh. His confused face only made me laugh louder.\n\n\"Even when you had the whole world on your side you couldn't do that. You couldn't face me in solo combat like the prophacies proclaimed, so you tried to bomb me back to Hell with artillery.\"\n\nHis confusion began to change to fear.\n\n\"Look at you now,\"I said, \"You've become a tyrant to your own people, and a slave to your own greed. You became what I was, and worse. So it seems you were right in that the prophecy was about you. You were just wrong about your role in it. So it comes to this; the battle between good and evil comes on a lonely beach about 30 kilometers off the mainland.\"\n\n\"You?\"he sneered, \"How can you ever be good?\"\n\n\"I'm good enough to learn that the way I lived my life was wrong, and to change. I didn't even kill your guards, and they were threatening my family. You too have changed, and not exactly for the better. And so I will take it upon myself to rid you of this world.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are sentenced to a famous prison. You are not sentenced by time your stay only ends if you die or escape. There are no guards and the prison is broadcast on television. No one has ever escaped." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I'm not your average criminal. I don't get caught in the heat of the moment. I don't kill for greed and I don't rape my victims. I kill as a challenge to myself. To always follow my own rules, and get away with breaking the most sacred of society's. And I have a very particular rule. I always start with eleven. \n\nEleven is beautiful. It's the first symmetrical double digit number. It's the smallest double digit prime. If you reverse the digits of any number divisible by eleven, you get another number divisible by eleven. If I get itchy, I scratch eleven times. If I buy gas, I let it run until eleven dollars. I'm certain the terrorists who planned 9/11 knew of this significance. Eleven was beautiful. Memorable. Eleven has power.\n\nBut my last murder was sloppy. Not like the first, when I'd followed the girl to her apartment and slit her throat in her sleep. I stayed up all night with a hacksaw and left the apartment clean, save for the smell of iron in the restroom. She'd just vanished. Anyone who thought to check the sewers for her remains would've found scattered bits of little use to the forensics team. \n\nNo, it wasn't my fault. I always plan it out a week in advance. I set up days in advance. I scout. I wait. I indulge, an exact twenty-two cuts on the body. I start with eleven on the left. I end with eleven on the right. Double digits are perfection. \n\nMy last failed target, number six, was a college student by the name of Brandon Chang. I chose him because he lived alone. Though he spent a lot of time online, his friends wouldn't miss him for a few days. The apartment complex was known for being quiet. I'd crept to his window and pushed all twenty-one shutters gently aside with my gloves. I crossed the messy room to his bed, counting the floorboards... one... two... the third one creaked, so I skipped it. \n\nAs I neared his sleeping form, I stopped. \"Something's wrong!\"my brain shouted. I hate that feeling, but it had saved my skin more than once. I wasn't like the common rabble. If something felt wrong, something was wrong. \n\nYour eyes have two types of vision cells- rods and cones. Cones can see in greater detail, but need more light to function. In the dark-lit room, my vision was all rods. So I didn't notice how his body lay still, not breathing. \n\nSirens surrounded the building and, though I hid, a young officer found me. She had to be between twenty-one and twenty-four. She had short hair, about five inches at the longest. It would've been easy for me to grab it. Slit her throat. But it would've been an uneven cut, and that bothers me more than anything. Plus, they would probably shoot me. So I didn't resist. \n\nBrandon had committed suicide by overdose after a fight with his online girlfriend. She'd called the cops on a whim to check on him, and they found me. My explanation that he'd invited me over was quickly shot down, and as investigations continued, they found out about my murders. \n\nThe judge carried little sympathy. \"For five counts of murder and callous disregard of human life, I sentence you to The Island,\"he'd said. I'd heard about the prison. It was a sort of puzzle that nobody had yet escaped from. They televised the thing and used the money to pay off the damage caused by significantly dangerous criminals. So a challenge, then. \n\n\"Bring it on,\"I'd smirked. The sentence didn't bother me as much as the judge's crooked glasses. One lens was smudged and a nosepad was loose. It dangled slightly when he adjusted them and itched at the back of my mind. I bet he hadn't cleaned them in years. \n\nI woke up in a brightly lit room smelling of bleach and fabric softener. They'd replaced my clothing with soft cotten, but allowed me to keep my knife- Smith & Wesson, military edition. I found no guards as I crept down the immaculately clean hallway towards a backpack hanging from a wooden door. It was nice, as prisons go. I wouldn't have minded the stay if it were my choice. But it wasn't. \n\nThe backpack contained twelve military MREs and eleven water bottles, so I left one MRE behind and opened the door. A robot waited by a table with a game of chess. How mundane. \n\nOf course, it was quite easy for me to defeat him, and I did so in exactly eleven moves. The door behind him slid open and I stepped in to the next room. And here I found my problem. \n\nIf I'd been left to continue my murders, I would've killed six more people, for a nice eleven. The fact that I only got away with five bothers the hell out of me. This I told the judge. I didn't think he cared at the time. But in this room, there were a hundred numbered safety deposit boxes and a key on the table. And someone had removed box number eleven. \n\n__________________________________________\n\n[Subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/) ~ [Sequel](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/comments/6tx6o7/sequel_you_are_sentenced_to_a_famous_prison_you/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Rather than being dispatched by a dispatcher, police officers use a bounty system where officers can pick up missions from a constantly updated bounty board. The missions range from: \"noise complaint, $20\", to \"domestic abuse, $150\", to \"bank robbery in progress, $5000\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Check again, it's almost 10, some party has to be getting loud by now?\"\n\n\"I've refreshed it 4 times, all that's changed is that Mrs. Stevens call has gone up ten bucks, so unless you want listen to her say her husband is planning to kill her for an hour shut the- ha nevermind it looks like Tom took it.\"\n\n\"Seriously? How much did you take off him last night anyway?\"\n\n\"Like 200, the guy bought in twice and still was out after an hour.\"\n\n\"Well, Mikey moneybags, maybe *you* don't need to go on any calls tonight, but I still plan on my kids eating this week.\"\n\n\"Listen Jonny Boy, I've seen your kids, they could afford to miss a few meals.\"\n\n\"You asshole, just find us a fucking call.\"John could not help laughing as he said so as he turned down another quiet street on another quiet night. Mike hit refresh on CPW every few minutes in between texts with Mary.\n\n\"'Contract Police Work'\"John Scoffed \"They should just call it 'Cops Pissing in the Wind'\"\n\n\"Hey wait a minute, we got a lurker on Elm\"\n\n\"What's it pay?\"\n\n\"A hundred a piece, it's 5 minutes away, and they need two officers. Looks like it's time for Mike and his trusty sidekick Jonny boy to spring into action.\"Mike put on his best Saturday morning cartoon narrator as John pulled a U-turn. After confirming on CPW, they headed to Elm street with their sirens and headlights off. They turned down the street and quickly pulled behind a parked car. Their unmarked car blended well with the exceedingly normal neighborhood surroundings.\n\n\"You see anything?\"John asked\n\n\"Yes, I've just been waiting for you to ask me.\"The sentence started as a friendly ribbing, but by the end Mike made it clear he was falling into a much more serious mood. It was dark, no moon was out, and the streetlamps only cast small cones of light straight down. The cruiser had a powerful flashlight on the driver side, but they did not use it. They both scanned up and down the street as far as they could, hoping to glimpse some movement. Just as Mike was going to suggest moving up a couple 100 feet, a silhouette flitted across the street 3 streetlamps down the road.\n\n\"Let's go\"Mike said as they both quietly got out of the car, they stopped short of closing their doors to remain silent. John led the way, sticking to the shadows, they head in the same direction as the perp. They headed between two houses and saw the shadow disappear around a corner They heard a fence door open and close as they began to slowly close in. The fence door led to a backyard of a standard suburban house. John looked in between the slats, he was able to make out the figure crouched at the back door of the house.\n\n\"He's picking the lock, we get can him while he's distracted\"John whispered.\n\n\"Are you kidding, do you know how much a B&E pays now, it's 500 a piece even if we don't arrest him, double if we do.\"Mike said with a smile. John thought nervously for a few seconds, but he too smiled in agreement. They both looked back through the fence as the inept thief struggled to pick the lock. Mike began to worry he might get nervous and give up.\n\n\"I swear to god, I'll pick this fucking lock myself if he doesn't get in soon\"But Mike was far from angry, he was practically licking his lips in anticipation. Eventually they heard the fateful click of the lock and they kept watching the suspect, getting ready to follow him in. They saw him put his lockpick in his jacket pocket and exchange it for a 9mm pistol. Mike and John both recoiled and looked at each other. A cold jolt of fear and adrenaline went up their spines, neither spoke as they carefully drew their guns, but they both were thinking the same thing. Armed assailants pay triple. They spent a considerable amount of time opening the fence door as quietly as possible. They approached either side of the back door that the thief left open and peaked in. Nothing.\n\nTheir training began to kick in as they cleared each room in the downstairs area methodically and quietly. Their guns were drawn, probing ahead of them, fingers on the triggers, as they soon began to suspect the thief already moved upstairs. As they headed to the foot of the stairs back in the foyer they could hear muffled conversation coming from somewhere upstairs. Mike looked at John, who simply shrugged his shoulders, neither could make out what was being said. As they slowly climbed the stairs, cringing at every perceived creak, they heard the voices getting louder, but still couldn't make out the words. \n\n\"Twelve...\"was all Mike could make out before the voice trailed off. \"Twelve...\"\nand again he couldn't hear anything else until they got right to the top of the stairs and moved towards the only bedroom with light shining out on the floor.\n\n\"Twelve fucking years.\"They sidled up to either side of the door and could now hear clearly what was being said.\n\n\"I'm so sorry please don't do this.\"They could both hear a woman say.\n\n\"Twelve fucking years, twelve fucking years, does that mean nothing to you? Twelve fucking years.\"\n\n\"Don't do this man\"a frightened voice said.\n\n\"Twelve fucking years, why didn't you just divorce me, why did you have to do *this*\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry\"the woman was sobbing uncontrollably.\n\nJohn had heard enough, he walked away from the door a few feet and then did an about face getting ready to kick the door. He looked at Mike, Mike stared back and shook his head no. John was puzzled at this and signaled that he was going to kick the door. He counted down on his fingers, but Mike grabbed him and pushed him against the wall.\n\n\"You should have fucking divorced me. 12 years, you should have fucking divorced me you bitch!\"The man yelled. John struggled viciously to get free of Mike's hold. \n\n\"I guess *I'll* do it then.\"The man was calm and quiet now. John used all his strength and pushed Mike off him. He took one step and froze as shot after shot rang out. The shots didn't stop until every round was spent. John remained frozen as Mike moved past him, kicked down the door and unloaded his pistol into the newly minted murderer. After this, they'd be set for a year.\n\nEdit: Thanks for all the feedback, this was literally my first try at r/writingprompts and it's amazing to get such a supportive response. I love the discussion of how to build a CPW system that descentivizes corruption, in this universe, everyone is content with the corruption haha. " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You create a micro-nation as a bit of fun and jokingly write a letter to the UN claiming your independence. A week later, you receive a letter back stating that all UN members recognize your sovereignty." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Holy shit\"I uttered aloud, nearly choking on my toast.\n\nMy roommate Eustace hollered at me from the living room, \"dude, what up?\"\n\nI brought the letter in with me and sat down on the couch opposite of Eustace, making sure to avoid the busted spring in the middle of the right cushion. \n\n\"The UN actually wrote me back dude, and...it seems like uhh...\"I kept trying to decipher the jargon to be sure that I wasn't reading it in the same way that I read my college textbooks. \"It seems like it worked?\"\n\nEustace paused his game and turned towards me, clearly shaking off the morning daze he was still in. \n\n\"Wait, what? They actually said we can be a country?\"he asked.\n\n\"Well a micro-nation but yeah, it seems like it...\"I half-muttered while I scanned the letter further. I hadn't expected to even get confirmation that my letter had been received by the UN, much less it being reviewed and voted upon. Our now internationally recognized, sovereign micro-nation was a forty-five square foot plot of land located in an uncleared field by the woods behind my parent's house. \n\nMy grandfather had originally owned the land and decided to will it to me after a twenty minute conversation we had back when I was fourteen about how he had planned to build a bunker under it to protect himself from government brain control waves. He had never gotten around to it and eventually grew too old. I was too young to pretend that I was interested in government brain control waves and instead just told him that I thought bunkers were pretty cool. He had apparently caught some heavy flak from everyone else in the family over this bunker idea, so to hear someone actually voice a level of support must have been a pleasant enough surprise to warrant him granting it to me in his will.\n\nCut to eight years later where I'm talking to my roommate Eustace about ridiculous state laws that nobody knows about anymore. Eustace is salty about one from Alaska that forbids citizens from entering a bar while already drunk. He had been up there working in a fish factory over the summer and decided to pregame before walking to the bar down the street. He was reportedly \"not very drunk at all\"but got stopped by an officer anyways, an encounter he described as \"mega bullshit\". \n\nI had read online sometime earlier about micro-nations and thought they were just the funniest thing, a topic ripe for a joke about how I would allow Eustace to pregame as hard as he wanted if I was the ruler of a micro-nation. After an ok chuckle, Eustace pulled an inquisitive look across his face.\n\n\"Dude, didn't you say you own like some patch of dirt out behind your folks' place?\"\n\nI hadn't thought about it much since my grandpa passed a few months prior, the land was about as hype as it sounds. \n\n\"Oh shit yeah, I kind of forgot about that.\"I jumped on his train of thought immediately and could barely keep myself from laughing as I asked him how funny it would be if we sent a letter to the UN declaring my plot of land as a sovereign nation. As it turns out, it would be just funny enough for him and I to do exactly that. \n\nWe described ourselves as \"The Constitutional Monarchy of Crungary\", named after my dog Crungar. Our government was structured so that I would be the supreme ruler over the nation with free reign to do as I pleased, so long as it was in accordance with our nation's constitution, which only had one article in it that read \"just don't be a dick\". \n\nOur military consisted of Eustace armed with a pellet gun he borrowed from his brother Prentice. Our flag's design was furiously debated over for a good hour before I eventually had to employ my monarchical power and make it the image of my dog Crungar chasing his tail. Eustace later sued the state for what he claimed was unconstitutional behavior from the ruling establishment but the presiding judge at the time, me, ruled in opposition, issuing the official statement \"fuck you Eustace, it's a good flag\". \n\nThe downfall of our great nation came when a couple of teenagers found it while traipsing through the woods. Eustace and I were out of the country at the time on international vacation to the United States, visiting our apartment. The foreign invading force decided to break the stick I had tied our t-shirt flag to and kick over my lawn chair throne. When Eustace and I returned home, we both decided we didn't really want to find a new stick for the flag so I dissolved the Constitutional Monarchy of Crungary and we both immigrated back into the United States. " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The most difficult part of being a Supervillian? Find love, not because other people won't like you, but because the stupid Superheros will swoop in and \"rescue\"your date every time, but this time you have a plan, and it's going to work." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Conversations raged in the downtown, restaurant. For once, I had worn everyday civilian clothing. If it weren't for the myriad of scars on my face; I could have passed for *normal*. \n\n'The main course,' A waiter said with his eyes pinned to the floor. 'Enjoy.'\n\nI watched the waiter slink away, and then pulled out my phone. While my food grew cold, I did my best to photograph it in the best light. I moved in, and out. I changed filters, and as the heat left each strand of pasta, I thought of the best hashtag. \n\nI uploaded the photo, geotagged with my location and in the caption wrote \"#datenight\". \n\nI picked at my food while I waited. \n\nAnd then, twenty minutes after my social media cry for help, a boom echoed from the streets. Conversations died, and people flocked to the window, still chewing. Dust, debris and smoke rolled against the restaurant window. \n\n*Three... two... one.*\n\nThe door burst open, and the brass bell rattled like a distressed uvula.\n\n'Where is she!?' Captain M demanded. \n\nThe woman in bulging spandex scanned the room, glossing over the bystanders who stood with strands of pasta hanging from their mouths. I waved at Captain M and received a hateful glower.\n\n'Over here.' I said. \n\nI blinked in time with her thumping footsteps and continued to blink as she towered above me. \n\n'Don't waste my time.'\n\n'Have a seat.'\n\nCaptain M lifted me by my neck, bringing my bulging face level with hers. \n\n'Fine -' I choked. '- have my seat.' \n\nCaptain M blew a gold strand of hair from her face and said. 'Stop wasting my time.'\n\nThe grip on my neck tightened so that only particles of air could escape. Captain M continued scanning the room, and then fixed on the bathroom. \n\n'Are you keeping her hostage in *there*?' \n\nI mimed speaking and then wringing a dishcloth, while a gargling sound came from my throat.\n\nCaptain M dropped me, and while I nursed my throat, she said. 'Speak.'\n\n'There is no girl.' I said. \n\n'Liar!' \n\nCaptain M withdrew her phone, from what looked like a custom sewed pouch. She tapped against the screen with increasing frustration and then removed her glove. The jabbing stopped, and she turned the screen so that I could see the photo I had posted.\n\nI smiled. 'You know. People don't post their real-life online.' \n\n'Stop playing games.' Captain M said. \n\n'You know,' I said picking myself off the floor. 'it's oddly comforting how quickly you came.' \n\nCaptain M cocked a concealed eyebrow.\n\n'Some would say that you're jealous.' \n\n'What!?' \n\n'You've interrupted five of my dates now,' I said and bopped a finger against her arm. 'Some would say that's obsessive.' \n\n'No!' Captain M glanced around the room of silent onlookers. 'Impossible. You are a menace, and those weren't dates you deluded fool.' \n\nA waiter, the one who had avoided my face, approached Captain M and presented her with a pizza. \n\n'From the gentleman that you were choking,' The waiter said.\n\nI pulled back a chair and gestured for Captain M to sit.\n\n---\n\n/r/WrittenThought\n\nWant to read more? - [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WrittenThought/comments/au7ov8/super_opposite_part_2/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "They called you a madman for raiding the history museum during a zombie apocalypse. What they didn't expect was for full plate armour to be so effective." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They called me a madman. Delusional. Don Quijote chasing monsters made of windmills.\n\nI wish my monsters were just windmills. Instead, they're strangers and friends and family. They're former members of society, their skin coming off in sloughs as they stumble through the streets. Some I've recognized, put an end to their misery just the same. Others I've never met, but they're fresh enough that I see what they would have looked like once.\n\nI pity them. They died too soon to learn, too soon to pick a suit of armor and ride beside me. They had tried other methods, failures all of them.\n\nSome survivors went for firepower. They raided armories, police stations, that military base nestled in the mountains and crawling with zombies. Eventually, they ran out of ammunition and died making a supply run. \n\nOthers went for shelter. They found bunkers, fought over them, dug their own graves and weathered the hunger until they, too, became hollow husks of humans.\n\nA handful did what I did, or at least half of it. They picked a sword, but forgot the armor. Relied on themselves, on their strength, on the old-fashioned weapons from which kingdoms and empires had been built.\n\nI raided the museum. They called me a madman. Laughed as the door slammed shut behind me and I clobbered a stumbling curator with a golf club. Brain and bone splattered. \n\nThe suit of armor could have been forged for me. It fit perfectly. I slipped it on, brandished my sword, paced slow and heavy towards the front doors of the museum.\n\nEach step was a struggle, but I'd grow used to it. Each step would become easier, each swing of that sword, too. \n\nIt sliced through the zombies like a sharpened blade through flesh. Dark, too real--it sliced like a knife through butter intent on eating me. I left them headless in crumbled heaps. \n\nThe ones that reached me couldn't bite me. Their teeth broke on my armor. Their hands turned to claws slipped on the protective steel. A gauntleted hand would pummel their head, crush the part that set them free to die the way humans were meant to die.\n\nI was safe. \n\nThey called me a madman when I entered the museum. I walked out their savior, lugging behind me another suit of armor. They said I'd be swarmed, but I held those vile creatures off for just long enough. \n\nAgain, they called me a madman when I raided that old farm, rescued the horses from being devoured alive and picked the finest one for myself. They laughed at me. Called my efforts futile foolishness. \n\nI rode out a knight prepared to slay those awful monsters they'd become.\n\nThe last of them called me a madman as I hacked down from atop my noble steed, horse armored as its rider. They stared as I charged right through the horde of zombies to break free from where they'd had us cornered.\n\nI turned around to survey what was left. The horde closed in on them. Growled at the savory meal as they screamed for help. I laughed--laughed like a madman. \n\nThey always called me a madman, but they'd call me nothing anymore.\n\n*****\n\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "In the future, illiteracy is the norm and implanted digital assistants convert text to audio. A child, who had his implant temporarily deactivated, learns to read. When the implant is reactivated, he realizes that what it reads to him is drastically different than what the text actually says." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Your implant has been acting up, lately,” the kind old doctor said, holding out a lollipop. “This is going to be a little uncomfortable, but I’ll have to take the main retinal node out and send it in for repair.”\n\nMartha rolled her eyes. “And how long will *that* take?”\n\n“Approximately a month.”\n\n“You can’t be serious. The girl is deaf, doctor. How is she going to get by if she can’t read or hear? Nobody knows ASL outside of affected families, these days. This is unacceptable.”\n\nHe held out his hands. “Now, now, I wouldn’t leave her stranded like that for a whole month. However, we are out of loaners, and we expect one will arrive back within the week. A few days at most. It’s quite a costly part, miss, as I’m sure you know. They rarely ever go bad.”\n\n“And yet, it has.”\n\n“I understand. We’ll call you as soon as we get one back.”\n\nMartha scoffed, taking Julie by the hand and leading her out of the office. She didn’t understand what was going on as it took place—a few words gleaned off lips, but Robo, her implant, did most lip reading for her. It was a rough thing, losing it, even for just a little while. Her mom signed it all out in the car, though.\n\nWhen they got back home, she ran upstairs and plugged her phone in, then played a little Doodlehopper. Kind of an old game, but she thought it was fun, especially since it was one her Dad used to play. It reminded her of him.\n\nShe lost the round and glanced over to her nightstand, where a piece of notebook paper was folded up and tucked into a picture frame. With a smile, she ran to it, picking it up and running her fingers across it. Even though she couldn’t read, she knew the words by heart, and followed along in her mind as her gaze caressed the page.\n\n>My sweetest, most beautiful little girl.\n\n>I love you more than anything in the whole world. You are the light of my life, and without you, the world is nothing more than a dark, scary place.\n\n>I have to leave, sweet thing. You and your mommy are the best things in the world, but I’m very sick, and I have to go to Amsterdam. I have family there. But I’ll fight my hardest, and try to make it back one day so we can play together.\n\n>I love you both.\n\nHer lips twitched between a smile and frown, and she put the note back in its home, sitting in a picture of the three of them from one Christmas long ago. Her mother had tried to tell her it was more complicated than that, and that they’d had some problems up to that point, but she believed wholeheartedly in the note and her father. He got mad sometimes, she could tell, but everyone gets mad. Julie gets mad, too, sometimes over nothing at all.\n\nSomething bothered her—Did her dad say ‘you are the light of my life’ or ‘you are the light of my world’? Suddenly, she couldn’t remember it right, and frowned. She took a picture of the note and uploaded it to an app that reads takes pictures of words and shows a cartoon man saying them, then remembered Robo wasn’t on anymore. None of what she picked up looked right, anyway, so it was probably just a stupid toy that didn’t work very well.\n\nAfter a little more googling, she found something much more useful. It took a picture of the words and scanned them, converting them into little digital signs. It took her a while to find it, and it was pretty old judging by how the signs were flat and didn’t move, but she understood them.\n\nThe app let her review the words before conversion to ASL, and she compared what was on the screen to her note. Everything matched perfectly, from what she could tell. \n\nAfter a little circle spun around and around, the signs finally popped up. It was a bit confusing at first, but she picked it up quickly. Some words that aren’t in ASL are fingerspelled, meaning that since no one sign is set to the word – usually a name – instead, the sign for each letter is spelled out.\n\nShe dropped the phone.\n\nIt had to be wrong.\n\nShe read it again. It had to be wrong. But how could it be wrong? It had her mom’s name fingerspelled in it. How could it know her name? How could it know that he went to Amsterdam?\n\nCrying, shaking, she read it again. It made more sense with each pass through, reality sinking like lead in her soul. There were a lot of things she didn’t know, but Mom always said the note didn’t make sense. She said her dad didn’t have family in Amsterdam, and that the note was nothing like what he told her before he left, but Julie always thought her mom was just upset and lashing out.\n\nShe looked down at the little scrap of paper. It trembled in her hands, and a teardrop fell onto the crisp page, marked only by perpendicular fold lines. Everything they’d meant to her was a lie.\n\nAll her joy, pride, and hope wilted like unwanted roses. \n\n>I loathe you, Martha. I loathe you and our child. \n\n>I don’t have the balls to say it to you, so I’ve gone through the trouble of having my node write up and print out this note as a way to tell you goodbye, because you deserve to hear the truth. A truth I don’t want to say myself. The honesty of our situation.\n\n>I quite simply don’t love either of you, and I’m miserable, trapped in this house. Working a job that makes me hate life in a town that’s always cold because we don’t want to relocate her, even though she has no friends to begin with. It’s just always about her. I didn’t even want a kid, Martha. We talked about it all the time before we got married. We weren’t supposed to have a kid. I’m not a dad.\n\n>I’m tired of our life. I’m leaving for Amsterdam, and I won’t be coming back.\n\n>Sorry. \n\nDespite Robo’s best attempts, she had, in the end, had her little heart smashed into even smaller pieces. One day she would contemplate why Robo had done what it had, or *how* it was even possible.\n\nBut, well, she was just a little girl. She was just a sweet, little girl, crying until her favorite note was every bit as wet and ruined as she was. \n\n---\n\n*/r/resonatingfury*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are the first man on Mars to explore a previously unknown cave. The camera feed is able to still reach earth, but with a 20 minute delay. Your crew back on Earth start frantically shouting to go back." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Against the backdrop of red, there was nothing but a faceless spacesuit. Slumped slightly forward, its lower back resting against the ridges of the cave wall. Occasionally, from the inside of the suit, you could see a panel lighting up, revealing from inside the tinted faceplate its inhabitant.\n\nIt’s a curious thing, this space suit. Because the space suit speaks.\n\n“*Space Command to Private Rosch, you are cleared for entry. Take care down there, Private. Over”*\n\nThe words are alien, to you. You’ve never seen something like this before, not for a long time. Was it a long time? You’d only been here a few days. You suppose time is relative.\n\n“*Space Command to Private Rosch, Captain Leeds recommends you tone down the small talk, we’re on a live feed here to the top brass. But yeah, it sure is. Over”*\n\nThere’s an amused snort. Now that you get. This one heard something funny. You tilt your head. Was that what was considered funny? Okay then, you got it.\n\nThe suit is made of a funny type of cloth, nothing you’ve ever touched before. It’s strange, rough to the touch. And inconsistent too. Certain parts of the suit are softer than the rest, more flexibles.\n\nWere these where the creature’s joints were? That would make sense. Going by that logic…\n\nYou give the faceplate a light tap. Then you’d suppose that the place where the material was hardest (What was this? You could just about see through it if you squinted your eyes.) was the place of most importance.\n\n“*Space Command to Private Rosch, we’re detecting some strange activity in the background of your cam feed. Recommend you turn on night vision instead of infra-red so we can get a better look. Over.”*\n\nYou run the of your fingernail around the edges of this strange material. The see-through metal. Your work done, you give it a light tap and it comes free. The sheet of see-through metal, cut free, falls splat on the face of the suit’s occupant.\n\nThat’s not what you want. You frown. With one hand, you reach in and delicately pick it out, in between your two thumbs. It’s stained with the creature’s blood, which is definitely strange. You don’t remember injuring it all the way up here.\n\n“*Space Command to Private Rosch, something’s following you. I repeat, you are not alone. We have authorized for you to shoot to kill. Over.”*\n\nThe suit gives you a scare. How was it still alive? Was it a different living system, working in harmony with this creature? You look down at the creature’s torso. There’s a see-through hole, just about the size of your hand. Blood and what you presume to be the creature’s insides have split out down it’s crotch, to the floor and begun to dry.\n\nWhat a strange thing. You hurt it in one place, and blood spurts out of another. You feel excitement flow through your veins, your thumbs clicking together restlessly. More, you had to know more!\n\nYou kick yourself for being so rash. This was probably the only time you’d ever chance to study something like this. You should have kept it alive.\n\nNo matter, you decide, as you wipe the see-through metal clean. It would make a nice trophy.\n\n“*Space Command to Private Rosch, we order you to retreat! Get out of there now! Confirm!*”\n\nAs if it knows what you’re going to do next, the suit speaks again. You don’t understand the words but you understand the panicked tone.\n\nThen you get down to the nasty stuff. What was so important here? You gorge out two white orbs, each with a spot of light blue. You find strangely shaped bones in the big orifice in the creature’s face. They’re stained red, and seem to be protecting a seemingly useless slab of meat inside. At the back of the orifice, a pool of blood gurgles. You suppose this part of the creature led to the torso.\n\n“*Rosch ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod. What the fuck is that?”*\n\nThe suit is starting to speak more often now.\n\n“*I’m detecting a complete loss of vital signs. That thing killed him.”*\n\n*“You’ve left the button on, Private Sej.”*\n\nBlissful silence falls, allowing you to focus on your work. You find what you are pretty sure is the creature’s brain. It’s similar to your people’s, but this one seems significantly bigger. You’re not sure whether or not you should feel envious. After all, this creature is the dead one.\n\n“*This is Captain Leeds of United Earth Space Command. I respectfully request for you to identify yourself.*”\n\nYou flip the creature on its front, revealing its back. There, whirring away slowly, a strange metal box. You pick it apart easily. This metal is significantly harder than everything else though. Could this be the suit’s heart?\n\n“*Do you understand us?”*\n\nThe inside of the box is divided into two parts. The lower components consist of two cylinders with strange wording on them. You press it, and a strange smelling gas comes out. Oxygen? Why would this creature be carrying so much of it? Perhaps it needed it to survive.\n\nThe upper components are interesting, a myriad of light and strange, flexible strings that came in different colours. You cut one of the strings. Immediately, a loud beeping sounds from inside the suit, near the faceplate.\n\nYou flip it over. There was a panel of green lights near the front edge of the faceplate, but now one of them was beeping red and the suit’s bright light had gone out. Red, that was a good thing, right? You eagerly cut away at the wires, the beeping growing incessantly loud.\n\n“*This is Captain Leeds of the United Earth Space Command. We have determined that you are hostile. You will be exterminated. Go to hell.*”\n\nThen the suit goes abruptly silent, as you cut the final string.\n\nAnd behind you, you hear a loose rock crumble down the slope of the cave’s entrance.\n\nWeighted boots create small mushroom clouds, much as the first creature had.\n\nYou feel an insane glee overcome you. There were more of them. You could continue your studies after all.\n\n“What the hell? Is that Rosch? Holy fuck!”\n\nYou try to think of what the creature had said when it first entered the cave. It’s hard, because you’re not quite designed the same way as this creature. But you manage.\n\n**“Man, this place is creepy as hell.”**\n\nEdit: Thanks for the feedback, as well as your support for my story! :) I'm glad so many of you enjoyed it." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "once in every month soulmates get to see from eachothers’ eyes for 60 seconds until they meet for the first time. It happens unexpectedly and neither of the pair knows when it will happen. One day you see someone you recognise from your soulmate’s eyes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So, I'll just start off by saying that this is not quite what you were asking for, but I like the premise. \n\n----------------------\n\nPeople say there's no warning during a Switch, but I disagree- it's a lot like feeling a sneeze creep up. There's a slight, tingly tug at the back of your mind, like a young boy pulling his kite, and in an instant, the world you know is gone. It's similar to flipping through stations on a radio, where one wavelength fades and the other springs up in its place without transition.\n\nI would know, because I've experienced it seven hundred and twenty three times. Every month since I turned sixteen.\n\nThe stories about Switches are always grand, adventuring lovers leaving clues for one another and finding ways to connect. An address on a scrap of paper kept at all times in a shirt pocket, or a telephone number tattooed on the forearm. I'd heard, growing up, of the sweet release that can only be achieved by finally finding the one your soul is tied to. A final scratch to itch the yearning in your heart.\n\nBut leave an itch to sit and it slowly becomes a torturous pain that festers into an invisible, eternal wound. A hole burns into you and eventually you grow despondent.\n\nThe tattoo on my arm stung, then itched, then healed, and still my phone never rang. I'd even had my parents set up pictures of myself around the house in the first year, but no one ever came for me. Nothing I tried made a difference, and just like the tattoo, my longing hurt, then itched, and eventually became a faded part of me. I don't know why I ever hoped for something different- I guess the stories always got to me, though I should've known better. \n\nI would've taken more on myself, but what I knew of her life was very minimal. Initially I'd seen glances of people I presumed to be relatives, but soon she avoided other people when she felt the Switch come on. Several times, I'd cross over when she was still scrambling out of a dining room or library. After the first year, she became quite good at guessing when the Switch would arrive, and ever since then, I've looked at the same thing for sixty seconds of every month:\n\nDarkness.\n\nOnce, I'd caught her slipping the basket over her head. It was a simple thing, made of black plastic that cut light with ease. All I can ever do is watch her hide from me. \n\nIt's fine that she doesn't want me. What hurts, what really, truly hurts, is how much those glimpses meant to me. It's fair that all I get to see is blackness, since she suffers the same. People like me are not regarded well in a world where vision becomes love. But what she must not understand is that I only ever got to see the world through her eyes. Color meant nothing to me until I turned sixteen, nor could I imagine what my own mother might look like. \n\nI don't care if she hates me. I just wish she'd have the compassion to let me see again, even if only to look at the man who took my place.\n\n*/r/resonatingfury*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The devil on your shoulder: \"Nah, dude. That's fucked up.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“Nah, dude. That’s fucked up,” the devil on my shoulder said and flapped his tiny red wings. \n\n“Do it! Do it!” chanted the angel on the opposite side, barely able to hold onto her diminutive Gloria in the excitement.\n\n I took a step forward, and both the critters gasped, but for different reasons. The devil covered his eyes and let his pitchfork tumble to the ground with a clanking noise. The angel looked at me, eyes wide in eager anticipation.\n\nThe broken streetlights were drooping beside me – dead metallic flowers of an age long gone. The shattered tarmac reminded me of the fissures when everything first went down the drain. \n\nI couldn’t remember the day when my conscience started taking cartoon form. It must’ve been sometime after the electricity died, but before the sky lost the last of its colors.\n\n“One more step! Just one more!” the angel cried in glee.\n\n“Man, I can’t believe this,” the devil said and lit a cigarette.\n\nI couldn’t help but wish I had a cigarette myself. It felt like a lifetime had passed since I stood on the balcony of my apartment late at night, enjoying a drag and watching the last vermillion beams over the city. The sun never set anymore, and because of the thick smog, it was hard to tell night from day.\n\nMy hand, wrapped in layers of random cloth to keep the warmth in, reached out. The nails were cracked and dirty. The last time I’d had a bath was before the angel went nuts and the devil became angsty and depressed. \n\nThey had helped me through a lot of trouble but were becoming more obsolete every day. There was no morality left in the world, no standards to break or uphold, and they both knew it. They had seen the cannibalistic meat farmers with their filthy slaves shackled behind the trucks, and they had seen the man stealing his child’s rations while it was sleeping, just so that he would be able to protect it for one more day. Survival didn’t care for the black, white, or gray of morality… it only knew bloodred.\n\nI slowly pulled out the gun from the hem of my tattered pants. It had one bullet left – one that I had saved for myself all these years. \n\n“Do it! Doooooooooo it!” \n\nThe angel had completely lost her wits. She screamed and frothed on my shoulder. She reminded me of the ragged old man that someone had locked inside a basement. He was spitting and ripping tufts of hair out. I remember that his eyes were wild and bloodshot, like those of a rabid dog.\n\n“Come on man, let’s go back,” the devil begged. “Please don’t put me through any more of this…”\n\nI crouched down over the bloodied heap of grubby clothes. The woman’s face was pale and drained, and her cheeks hollow. Her screams had brought me out of hiding. She was quiet now. Blood soaked the bottom of her dress. I aimed at the bundle she held tightly in her dead arms.\n\n“Pull the trigger!” cried the angel. “Imagine growing up in this broken world! Do it!”\n\n“Just walk away, don’t waste the bullet… you’ll need it,” countered the devil.\n\nI took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The bundle giggled. It was a sound that didn’t belong on this husk of a planet, yet here it was, like a soothing wet cloth over my fevered eardrums. I stuffed the gun back in my trousers and carefully picked up the bundle.\n\n“What the hell are you doing!?” screamed the angel and devil in unison.\n\nI didn’t listen because I had lost myself in the blueness of the baby’s eyes. Its chubby fingers touched my rugged cheek. I felt tears trickling down my face. As long as there were beauty and innocence left in the world, morality was a concept worth holding on to.\n*****\nCheck out /r/Lilwa_Dexel for more of my stories.\n\n**Thank you to the sweet kind soul who gilded this!**\n\n**Oh my god, a second gilding... Thank you!**\n\n**A third?! Thank you, kind stranger!!**" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You have been in a coma for years, but the people around you worship you as a deity, leaving offerings and notes with wishes and prayers. You aren't a god- time simply stops any time you wake up, leaving you alone in a frozen world. You accept the offerings and do what you can to grant prayers." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wishes are scattered around my bed, smothering the wood like fresh snowfall. They, the people looking after me now, have left out bread and cool water, and I scrunch across folded-paper, those unborn miracles, to the laid table.\n\nThere is no one in my room and I eat in silence, staring out the window at the still world, at the birds painted unmoving into the gray sky.\n\nI want to burn all the paper. Go back to sleep as fire breathes heavy around me. Sleep until the flames become my darkness. My wish is never granted, so why should any of these be?\n\nThe first note I pick up is from a couple unable to conceive. The second, a parent with a terminally ill child. Third, a woman who has lost her lover.\n\nI sit on my bed and cry because I can’t perform a miracle. Not for them or for me, and that joint sadness twists sharp and deep into my gut.\n\nThe wishes were so much smaller, long ago.\n\nWhen it first happened, when the car hit mine and my head shuddered off metal, and then again off glass, I was placed into an intensive care unit.\n\nI woke to silence and stillness later that night, the nurses, doctors, patients, all on the cusp of movement and of living. But I could move freely and no one saw or reacted. I became a spirit haunting the corridors.\n\nThere was a little girl, very poorly, sad, and alone in the same hospital. I read her notes. No family and no future. So the spirit stepped out of the shadows: I left the hospital and stole a hundred balloons, cake, clothes, and dolls, and tried to make a tiny miracle for her. I surrounded her bed in balloon animals and in what I prayed amounted to a smile.\n\nI never knew how she reacted. I slept through it, as I always did from then on. But reporters soon picked up on the story, of this child and the mysterious party thrown for her behind the nurses’ backs. “Quite impossible,” the nurse on duty said.\n\nPeople wrote letters to that little girl, having seen her story, and told her she was so brave, and her estranged father even got in touch, and she finally had family to be with.\n\nThat girl’s story spread, as did tales of other happenings to other patients at this hospital of minor miracles.\n\nEventually, they tracked it to me. To the coma patient who moved from his bed each day. Fell asleep far away and had to be carried back to the ward. One second, the doctor was taking my temperature, the next, I was asleep in a bar a city over with alcohol in my system.\n\nSo the notes began to be written. Prayers to the strange coma patient. I was moved from hospital, to churches, and even, sometimes, shipped between countries, to lend to other places in need of a miracle man.\n\nMy miracles, however, were nothing but sleight of hand. Broken and fractured and altogether false. That girl, whose estranged father had returned, died a week later. I’m not sure the father shed a tear, but he did sell his story to the papers. All I did was advertise her to a vulture ready to peck at her bones.\n\nI sit on my bed now and run my feet through the ocean of folded notes and I wonder what the point of my existence is. Did God intervene in my accident to do this to me? Save my life and curse it at the same time?\n\nI read the notes again.\n\nA couple unable to conceive. A parent with a terminally ill child. A woman who has lost her lover.\n\nI sit there for an hour. Staring. Thinking.\n\nThen, I leave.\n\nI find the couple outside their home. Sitting on a bench, a gap between them, and something much darker looming inside that gap. I move them together, entwine their fingers as one hand, and place the adoption leaflet in a pocket.\n\nI find the sickly child next and I do not throw another party. Instead, I locate a specialist, too costly, too expensive for the family. But I know where to get money, and I leave the money and a note, and I know the doctor will call them.\n\nThe woman who lost her lover is on a sofa in a house littered with empty cartons and cans and bottles. I tidy it all. In her note, she can not get over the loss. And I do not know if it will help her, because I struggle with my losses too. But I do for her what I did for me. I take her to the graveyard and I sit her there. I place photos around her of when they were together, and happy, and I write a note that perhaps she will think is from him. It just says: Please keep going forward.\n\nI don’t know how many hours, days, have passed, but I am exhausted and don’t make it back to my room with its carpet of would-be-wishes. I fall asleep on the grass outside the graveyard and dream of my own family and my own wish." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Scientists invented a pill that enables dogs to fully speak and understand English. It lasts for ten minutes, and will only work one time. You give a pill to your 12 year-old Border Collie, whom you've had since they were a pup. Your dog immediately says \"Alright, listen very carefully...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My dog, who I named Mr. Fierce when I was 14, was no longer quite so fierce. 12 years later I was nearing 30 and he was slowing down. His black and white fur had a little extra white in it from old age. He was always excitable, but now days he took a while longer to get his body moving. I could tell I only had a year, maybe two, left with him. \n\nI'd spent my life with Mr. Fierce. My parents both worked when I was a teenager, and Mr. Fierce was my best friend. When I was in college, I had to leave him behind, and I regretted those years spent apart. Every college break I came back to find my dog had gotten a little older. It was heartbreaking. After college I made a point to always bring him with me, paying extra for dog friendly apartments. Mr. Fierce was too important. He was family. \n\nWhen the pill came out that would let me actually talk to him, of course I jumped at the chance. Who wouldn't? I was nervous. Would he be mad at me? For those years spent apart? I hadn't been able to afford to bring him to the vet as much as I should. Would he tell me he was in too much pain? What would I do if he told me he hurt too much? 12 years was a good life for a collie. I couldn't stand the idea of not having him waking me up every morning.\n\nIt took a few days for me to get the courage, but I finally gave him the pill one night after work.\n\nAnd after his first few moments of confusion, once he realized I could understand him... Do you know what he asked me? Mr. Fierce, my best friend asked me.\n\n\"Alright, listen carefully, am I a good boy?\"\n\nI lost it. I couldn't help but cry. I hugged him tightly and assured him.\n\n\"Yes, Fierce. You are the best boy. The most wonderful boy in the whole world.\"\n\nThe remaining minutes he could talk were a blur of happy questions, the most precious minutes of my life.\n\nA few months later when I found out he had to be put down from tumors in his stomach I was at peace with it. I held his paw and let him know in those final moments that yes, he was a good boy. He was the best boy, and I would always, always love him." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You finally won the lottery. $20 million. You go to sleep that night a rich and happy person. You wake up to a nurse, explaining you've just awoken from a coma." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I awake, my vision a white blur; I gasp for breath, lunging upright. An alarm is ringing somewhere far away. \n\nI hear a voice. A woman's. \n\nThe haze begins to lessen a little and I see I'm in a white room, with a single window and not much else. I see *her*. She's walking towards me.\n\n\"Welcome back,\"she says, gently pushing me back down onto the bed. \"I wasn't sure I'd ever get to speak to you.\"Her soft smile is reassuring.\n\n\"Where - *where am?*\"I'm hyperventilating.\n\n\"Breathe, now,\"she says. \"Like this.\"She puts her hands in front of her stomach, moving them away as she takes a deep breath. \"Hold it for five seconds. Then, exhale for five.\"\n\nI try to copy, and eventually, my heart begins to pump a little less furiously.\n\n\"That's right, just relax. Very good.\"\n\n\"Please, where am I?\"I beg.\n\nThe lady is dressed in blue and white. \"Saint Bartholomew's hospital,\"she answers.\n\n\"*Hospital?* I repeat, stupidly.\n\nShe nods. \"You've been in a coma, for quite some time.\"\n\n\"What? *How long?*\"\n\n\"Three years.\"\n\n\"No... that's not right,\"I protest, but my head is a thick fog. I can't think clearly.\n\n\"You were in a car accident.\"\n\n\"I don't remember... no - *wait.*\"A few vague memories shake themselves free, like icicles falling from a cave roof. I was rich - I'd never had money before, but now I had more than I could ever have dreamed of. I was finally enjoying life. *But how did I get so much money?*\n\n\"I won the lottery,\"I say, as much to myself as to the nurse. \n\nShe bites her lip. \"I'm glad you were having nice dreams, but...\"\n\n\"No. It wasn't a dream. I *did* win it.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Mr Brown.\"\n\n\"Brown? My name's Manning. *Oliver Manning*.\"\n\nThe nurse turns away, as if looking for someone. When she looks back at me, there's an awkward smile on her face. \"I know it's hard to believe - it's often like this when you've been in a long coma, but you're *Richard Brown.*\n\n\"That can't be right...\"\n\n\"The doctor said you might forget some aspects of your identity. They'll return, soon.\"She lays a drivers license down on the bed.\n\n\"That's my face, but that's... not my name.\"\n\nThe nurse sighs. \"Think you can use a laptop?\"\n\nI nod. \"Yes. I think so.\"\n\nShe leaves me, returning shortly with a small computer under an arm.\n\n\"Can you sit up?\"she asks. I can. She places the laptop gently onto my legs. \n\n\"You can search for the incident. Just type \"Richard Brown car crash Minnesota, 2017. I'll leave you for a while.\"\n\nI open Google as she walks out of the room. Then, I change my mind, and open up my bank's website. I *did* win - I know I did. I just need to see proof.\n\nI type in my user ID and security details, and let out a long sigh of relief when the next screen loads. Oliver Manning: $17.6 million dollars.\n\nThe nurse returns to the room holding something small in her left hand. \n\n\"Did you find out everything you needed?\"she asks, as she approaches me.\n\n\"Yes. I *did* win, thank God,\"I say, closing my eyes and smiling broadly. \"I thought I was going insane.\"\n\n\"Yes, you did,\"she replies, as she pushes a syringe into my neck. \"I knew you'd check your bank. You're a *very* greedy man.\"\n\n\"What are you-\"\n\n\"You won all those millions, then you bought yourself a fast sports car - an Italian thing. You drove it recklessly. You drank. Then, you hit my husband. You were always going to hit somebody, but why him?\"\n\nMy stomach fills with a new dread - a real dread. A certainty. \n\n\"You kept on driving, leaving him on the side of the road in a quickly growing pool of his own blood. You might have saved him, had you stopped and called for help. *I know you did it* - everyone knows - but your fancy lawyers got you off. He left me and our three children all alone. They have no father now, just a working nurse, to support them.\"\n\n\"I'm... *so sorry*.\"\n\n\"Took me some time get the opportunity to do this. To set this room up as nicely as I have - although I've always been one for minimalism.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry,\"I mumble, my tongue heavy. \"Truly\"\n\n\"You took everything from me. Now I'm going to take *everything* from you.\"\n\nI begin to feel dizzy and my mouth is so, so dry.\n\n\"Did he give you the money yet, mommy?\"asks a high pitched voice. I see a small, hazy silhouette enter the room.\n\n\"Yes darling.\"\n\n\"Is he dead yet?\"\n\n\"Shortly, sweetheart.\"\n\n\"Good.\"\n\n---\n\n\nThanks for reading! Plenty more stories on my sub: /r/nickofnight \n\n(free ascii rose for all new subs --------{---(@ )\n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n\n " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "When humans arrived to the galactic scene, they thought wars would play out way differently. Instead of bloodshed, there were intergalactic video game tournaments fighting for territory. Most aliens thought humans were newbies to this but when the first war was played, they changed their minds." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How are these humans so good?\"\n\nThe team from Gelax Prime had been sitting at their terminals for hours, helplessly watching as the Earth team completely and utterly destroyed them. Their resource control was impeccable, their strategy flawless. And those humans weren't the crack team of specialists that they expected. They were....ordinary. People that almost looked like they came right off the street and into the battle sim with no briefing, no formalities, no final entreaty for peace. They just sat down, put their headsets on, and proceeded to mercilessly march to victory.\n\nGelax Prime was one of many teams that had fallen to the prowess of the humans. They had foolishly given the humans the choice of simulation - and the human team, after consultation from those they called \"Korean\", ended up playing a human simulation called \"Starcraft\".\n\n\"What is this 'Starcraft'?\"one of the team asked nobody in particular, sipping nervously out of his cup of ercap juice. \"I have never seen that sim in all my maturity cycle!\"\n\n\"None of us have,\"another team member sighed. \"We made a gigantic mistake, allowing the humans to choose the sim. Curse our race's code of honor.\"\n\n\"Relax, friends,\"the team captain soothed. \"This is only the first round of five. We have a chance.\"\n\n\"How are we to get the momentum back? You saw their tactics - they built up faster, and they had fast attack units right at our doorstep in a matter of seconds!\"\n\n\"We need to copy their tactics,\"the captain replied. \"Build quick, attack quick.\"\n\n\"But we don't have zergs!\"\n\n\"So?\"the captain replied. \"If that tactic works for the humans, it can work for us.\"\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nRound two of the battle sim began. The humans, almost working with the speed and efficiency of a hive mind, began to build their defenses.\n\nThe Gelax Prime team was stunned. How did they know that their tactics were going to be used against them?\n\nMinute after minute, the human zergs rushed the Gelax Prime installations. They crippled the mineral production, destroyed the additional pylons that the sim had exhorted the Gelax Prime team to build over and over again.\n\nIt all became a blur. And at the end, with the crowds roaring and chanting: \"Hu-mans, hu-mans, hu-mans, hu-mans\", the Gelax Prime team sat at their terminals, staring at the chat display.\n\nOne of the human team members, presumably out of habit, sent the following message:\n\n\"GG no re\"." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are a powerful sorcerer, who requires the blood of your servants to cast your spells. You've recently discovered they have been using theater tricks to avoid injury and have substituted your ingredients with common household items... but your spells have been stronger than ever." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For centuries I have brought peace upon the kingdom with my Magic. I have chained the creatures of the underworld, chased death away from our kings and hidden our lands from the eyes of warring kingdoms. However, all magic has a cost. The more powerful the spell, the greater the price to pay. My magic must be bought with blood. \n \nOnly yesterday, a new new spell was required of me. Our enemies now use their own dark magic to gain eyes in the skies and our kingdom had to be hidden from the view of these demonic birds. As usual, the chosen sacrifices had been gathered and prepared by my assistants. One by one, they were led up the stairs to the top of the pyramid where they laid on the altar. Their skin was cut and their blood drained into bowls which were brought to the incantation room. \n \nSuch a powerful spell requires a lot of blood and I was preparing for the long day of incantations required to convince such a great amount of blood to do my bidding. But, to my surprise, only 5 minutes into the ritual the bowls of blood started to glow and turned in to smoke, indicating the success of the spell. I stormed out of the room, not even bothering to take out my ritual headdress, to go ask my assistants what was going on. Instead of finding my assistants cleaning out corpses, what I found was a few dozen sacrifices cleaning blood from their skin. They were removing fake wounds from their wrists and trimming facial hair to change their appearance! \n \n\"What is the meaning of this!\", I shouted in the face of my nearest assistant. \n \n\"Well ... uh ... we were just trying to ... it's just that ... hum ... the blood is actually ^not^necessary^you^see...\"\n \n\"You are telling me this was not blood? What Have I been using?\"\n \n\"Hum ... mostly .... Corn starch, food coloring, syrup, cocoa powder, fruit punch, and a few ... other things\"\n \n\"Impossible! The spell worked. There must be a price paid for that magic. How did you obtain these items? Did you pay with blood or human lives?\"\n \n\"No, actually we got some great deals on Amazon and at Walmart\"\n \n\"Ah, this explains everything... \nThe name *blood magic* is very misleading you see. The blood is only the carrier for the suffering of the sacrifices. This suffering is what really fuels the spell. These items you used must be the product of the suffering of countless people.\"\n \n\"So... you are not mad?\"\n \n\"Are you joking? This is the greatest breakthrough in suffering-based dark magic since the invention of bureaucracy! Get me more if it. Running shoes, mobile phones, etc. Let's see which works best.\"\n \n*** \n \nEdit: Thanks for all the kind words! \nI just realized that in the last few hours hundred of people have read what I just wrote. For someone who writes only occasionally for fun, this is amazing. You guys made my day! \n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "All games can “Jumanji” their players, sucking them into the world of the game. You braved the battlefields of Chess, led fleets from your Battleship and breezed through Life. But nothing could have prepared you for the utter, unimaginable terror that is Monopoly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her voice was laced with bile and fury as she screamed at me from across our apartment.\n\n\"If you walk out that door, don't even think about coming back!\"\n\nI let the slamming of the door and my quick steps down the rusted staircase serve as my only response. She thinks this is some sort of game. Like if we stick to the rules and wait our turn, we're all going to wake up from this misery tomorrow or the next day and find ourselves awash in comfort and cash.\n\nBut this is not how the world works. It's a cutthroat nightmare where only the strong survive. When we first came here, Alice and I spent the first seven months living off of charity and chance. We then spent the next seven years working multiple jobs just to pay our skyrocketing rent and utilities. Sure, the city's General Office doles out an extra $200 in welfare scraps each month, but you have to find the time, money and energy to get down there in person to collect your check. And those are three things that aren't easy to come by, especially for a guy fresh out of jail.\n\nThe worst part of this nightmare, though, is seeing the disappointment on Alice's face every single morning as she sips her coffee and sifts through the want\\-ads. Her sorority sister from college recently invested in the local rail system and lives in a mansion on St. Charles. Her ex\\-boyfriend owns and operates three hotels in the city and sits on the board of the Electric Company. Even her old shift manager down at the diner is able to earn a little extra on the side by renting out row houses to the Polaks over on Baltic Avenue.\n\nAlice's husband, in contrast, is an alcoholic ex\\-con without a pot to piss in.\n\nBut that's all about to change. I thought being locked up was the lowest point a man could fall. If you take away a person's freedom, what could possibly be left? But jail took away much, much more. It stripped away my fear, my pride, my weakness. It peeled back all of my excuses and all of the bullshit that I had bought into over the years. And in my place stood a new man lean with muscle and sinew clutching a simple truth: if you want something in this world, you have to take it... by any means necessary.\n\nAlice thinks I'm on my way to the bar to drown myself in booze and pity, but she couldn't be more wrong. Instead, tonight my path leads directly to the docks, where the owner of the warehouse district has agreed to hand over full title in exchange for me handing over very revealing photographs of him in very revealing lingerie. Sure, the warehouses are about as attractive looking as a 70\\-year\\-old man in a lace teddy and stripper heels, but it's sometimes about what lies under the surface that makes the complete package.\n\nLike, for example, zoning ordinances and permits that make the warehouses instantly ready for commercial retail. Or utility contracts that secure very favorable electricity and gas rates for the next 25 years. Or, best of all, an abandoned midway spanning the length of the entire harbor.\n\nSure, Alice will be angry when I get home. But the days of her being disappointed in me are over once she hears about my plan to build a new retail district right here in the heart of the city... in a place the locals used to call \"The Boardwalk.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You read a comment on reddit so stupid your IQ drops to negative leading to an integer error. Congratulations, now you have 2,147,483,647 IQ." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "*\"Can't you see?\"*\n\nOf course I could see she was upset. Arms crossed and shoulders slightly elevated and asymmetric. Sulking? Nah, but close. Discontent over my absence, assuming I was *just* reading some stupid Reddit post. Maybe 2 minutes ago it would have mattered. Now? There were so many more pressing matters. The world, the future, morality, mortality, mankind... God help us - the hatred, poverty, destruction, misery, how many millennia had it dragged on while the answers were right there? But now I can tell them! I can explain everything to them and there will be an end to this pain!\n\nShe should be happy. Why is she so upset about these trivial daily things? Nothing has changed in all these years, nothing important. 43 and I see her as the young beauty I married still. I see the cells she's made up off, pumping fluids, forming and disassembling thousands of proteins every second. I see the biochemical interactions, I see the atomic structure of her skin. I see the fermions, the waves, all the subatomic interactions. I see her mind, unfolded, her sentience and the greater things the consciousness of others and myself implies about this reality. All the philosophers... they were children. They're all children. I know what she's going to say, I know how she's going to react when I say what I say, I know what she'll think when I say it. But no matter the choice of words, there is no solution in normal time. No time to explain even the beginnings of it to her, not without wasting years, and she'd just be the first one. To convey even a fraction of these things to their heads full of fog - where would I start? \n\n*There is no time*. They won't understand. They won't understand the secondary meaning of my words, nor the third layer, or the fourth. They won't even perceive the gravitas of my words when I speak, let alone think of the small nuances that I'd take for granted, but result in sickness when ignored. There isn't *one* among them who would understand, who would be able to follow the patterns. I can't write it down; they'll twist my words into their own petty views filled with petty thoughts and petty points. I can't show them. I can't show them! I can't tell them what I know, no matter how much I wish I could! They won't understand. I am *alone.*\n\nBut I must try.\n\n*\"Can't you see?\"*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Everyone hates Stan. However, you are the new guy and no one will tell you why they hate Stan. You decide to talk to Stan. Its been 3 months and now you're telling the new guy why everyone hates Stan." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I sighed, looked at the new guy. \"So you want to know?\"\n\nHe scanned the surroundings, hunched over the table, and with sweat trickling down his temples, he whispered, \"Please. I need to know.\"\n\nMy lips parted into a smirk. \"I remember three months ago when I was in your position.\"I lifted my feet, placed them atop the table, and sighed again. \"Rumors are a tricky thing, always nibbling at our minds like ravenous rats, slowly eating their way forth, torturing us, making us sweat.\"I eyed him sidelong. \"Sounds familiar?\"\n\nThe new guy frowned. Moments later, he took the hint, dug out a tissue from his pocket, and cleaned the drops slithering down his temples. \"Please, Steve, I need to know. No one takes me seriously here. No one. Every time I try to speak with someone, they start talking about how much they hate Stan, and I'm forced to nod along and pretend while they bond over a hatred I don't understand. I can't work like this. I'm new, I need guidance, but everyone just talks about Stan. They are gonna fire me, and I really need the money.\"He drew a deep breath. \"I beg you. I swear on my mother I won't be a snitch. No one will know you were my source.\"\n\n\"Very well,\"I said, and checked the surroundings. \"Are you ready?\"\n\nHe nodded vehemently, and the sweat began to trickle again, this time it fell down his forehead too.\n\n\"We hate Stan because of his perfection.\"I scowled, the blood rose to my face. \"Do you understand how infuriating it is to speak to someone who is the living embodiment of an angel? Can you understand it?\"\n\nHis face distorted into puzzlement. \"What?\"\n\n\"I know. It makes my blood boil. You become self-aware of every single one of your flaws when you speak to him. He's beautiful too.\"I struck the table with open palms. \"He gave me chocolates, rookie! Chocolates! And they were expensive ones and terribly delicious. God damn it, he even gave me a raise!\"\n\n\"What?\"He gasped, and his frown turned into a scowl. \"Isn't the boss George?\"\n\n\"Yes, but Stan is Stan! You don't understand it do you?\"I shook my head, composed myself. \"You won't understand it until you speak to him. If you are lucky enough to find him around, talk to him.\"The veins of my neck throbbed. \"That's the only way to thrive here, rookie. You have to talk to him. You have to share the hatred!\"\n\nHis confusion deepened. He scratched his forehead, shook his head in disbelief, and finally said, \"He doesn't work here?\"\n\n\"I'm done with you, rookie,\"I said and rose to my feet. \"This is why no one ever tells the new guys the true reason, because you can only understand it when you talk to him.\"\n\n\"Wait!\"he shouted as I walked away. \"Where can I find him?\"\n\n\"In his office.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Steve!\"he said and ran across the building, inspecting every cubicle.\n\nI smiled, and a hand fell on my shoulder. I turned. It belonged to George, the boss.\n\n\"Hell of an act, Steve. Well done!\"he said, and barked a laugh. \"How long do you think he goes until he realizes?\"\n\n\"It took me two months. I'll bet ten bucks it takes him longer than that.\"\n\n\"I'll gladly take that bet,\"George said, slapped my butt, and walked away laughing.\n\nYou see, Stan didn't exist.\n\n-------------------------------\n\nr/NoahElowyn - I'm not as fancy as that other Noah with his great ark, but I have many stories over there, and the characters have *arcs.*\n\n*That was terrible*\n\nI'll see myself out.\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A necromancer discovers that spells to animate dead bodies also work on other things that have been described as \"dead,\"such as batteries, cars, appliances, friendships, and romances." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You can seriously fix this?\"the construction worker asked, scratching the back of his head with wonder.\n\n\"Sure, I don't see why not. So, what are you looking for? A park or something?\"I said, pulling back my sleeves and raising my arms at the wall in front of me.\n\n\"No, we were just intending on extending the road here. But for way more than your asking price,\"he muttered.\n\n\"Not a problem,\"I said, and heaved at the energy within me, giving life to the wall before me. My eyes rolled back into my head and I closed them. The wall shook and crumbled, and finally moved itself out of the way, adding asphalt to the floor below it at it moved aside. I turned back to the worker and said with my eyes still closed:\n\n\"What was once a dead end is now a living road,\"I announced gravely, opening my eyes once more.\n\n\"That's incredible!\"he yelled. \"No hard hats, no machinery, no nothin'! You're the real deal!\"\n\n\"And we had a real deal, as well,\"I reminded him, patiently. I smiled at the praise.\n\n\"Oh, yeah. $10,000 in cash, as agreed. Go bless another part of the world with your magics!\"he said, simultaneously shaking my hand and giving me the wad of cash. I took it gratefully and went on my way, robes billowing in the wind passing through what used to be the wall. I counted the money and quickly pocketed it. Before I could even leave the site, another worker put a tough arm on my shoulder. He gripped me tightly and I turned to him, unsurprised. Most people approached me with some form of nervousness.\n\n\"Are you aware of my asking price?\"I began.\n\nHe nodded, slowly. \n\n\"What can I bring back to life?\"\n\nHe blushed and looked to the ground. \n\n\"I uh..\"he gripped at his hard hat hesitantly. I waited for him patiently as he looked to me and back to the floor. \n\n\"If you're willing to pay $10,000, surely you're willing to tell me what you want brought back?\"I pushed. Only gently. Push too hard and they'd get upset and leave you.\n\n\"Yes, umm... the missus and I... we haven't really been...\"he blushed even deeper. \n\n\"I believe I understand,\"I said, with a slight smile. I pulled back my sleeves and pointed my arms at him.\n\n\"Whoa, are you gonna--\"\n\n\"Please remain still,\"I said, eyes rolling to the back of my head. I could feel him trembling in front of me. He let out slight whimpers as he felt the power coursing through him. Finally, just as I finished casting the spell, he crashed onto the floor. \n\n\"Did yo--\"\n\n\"What was once a dead bedroom is now a living relationship,\"I announced, proudly. I opened my hand for my payment. He looked skeptical, but as soon as he stood up, he received a call. \n\n\"Oh my God, she never calls me at work,\"he said excitedly, throwing the money at me so he could take the call.\n\nI continued on my way home, $20,000 richer when I was once again approached by a client. It was a much smaller one, closer to the age of 12, it seemed. He was holding a 10 dollar bill very tenderly in his small fingers.\n\n\"Can you help me with the kid from my school, Joey?\"he asked, holding back tears.\n\nMy heart dropped. It was always the worst when the young had witnessed such a traumatic experience as the death of a peer. I knelt down to his height and closed his hands over his money.\n\n\"I'm so sorry. I can help you. Where did he die?\"I asked compassionately.\n\nHe cocked his head to one side, not understanding my question. Perhaps he didn't understand the concept of death yet.\n\n\"Joey's not dead. But you help with dead things, right?\"he asked, a tear rolling down his face.\n\n\"Of course, I will help in whatever way I can,\"I said, opening my arms paternally to him. \n\nHe sniffed and wiped away the tear with a trembling hand. \n\n\"Well Joey,\"he stopped to sniffle again, \"Today Joey said I was dead meat!\"he cried.\n\n*That was a new one.*\n\n________________________________________________________\nFor more things that were once dead, and brought back to life, check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "at the end of 2016, you hear \"thank you for playing the 'Earth' open beta. You will be returning to your respective galaxies shortly.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "**User: 25723753**\n\n**Score: 21%**\n****\n\n**What needed improvement?**\n\n* Missing DLC - I couldn't download the 'Dad' package? \n* 18 year tutorial seemed like a chore for intelligent players.\n* I regularly encountered female NPCs who refused interaction. Surely this is a glitch? \n* Skill tree is broken. Grinded Economics skill tree and it still didn't make any sense. 'Mom' NPC played Nurse class and got the eviction penalty. WTF?\n* In-game currency system seems broken. Took 'STEM career path' and wound up in 'unemployed' class. I was trying to avoid the 'barista' buff by not taking 'liberal arts'. WTF? \n* Health system was a grind. Gain energy from using 'hot pockets', but it lowers your stamina unless you spend game time on 'treadmill'? Why is that a thing?\n* *Way* too many micro-transactions in the 'personal grooming' sub-quest.\n\n**What did you like about the beta?**\n\n* The lore. There was a deep, immersive background I could reject. Got the 'euphoric' trophy in the first fourteen years!\n* Mini-games were great. In a lot of ways, they occupied more of my time than the main quests. I particularly liked 'DOTA' and 'League of Legends'. Perhaps there's a way of skipping the main narrative thread and focusing on these?\n\n**Any other comments?**\n\n* 'Attractive' perk OP. Please nerf." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "There's a saying among the galactic community. \"Never hire a human\"... you just hired 200 of them. And you're about to find out why that saying exists." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was something we had been taught time and time again during our classes. It didn't matter the teacher, it didn't matter the class subject. We had always been warned to never hire a human. After a few centuries of hearing this, of course, it became a joke among my classmates and I. Most of us had never even encountered a human, and none of us had ever worked with one. We simply had no need to. \n\n\nOf course, times changed. After our fourth interdimensional war, times were getting a little tough. Although those at the top (planet owners, colony Queens, and the like) were still doing fine, lots of us down below were getting hit pretty hard. Running a small business like mine was becoming near impossible. Paying back my employees for whatever meager amounts of space dust they could sell ended up almost bankrupting me. Labor costs were just too high for any species involved in our Galactic Federation. \n\n\nThat’s when it hit me. I almost slapped my eye-stalk for not realizing it before. Terra had never officially joined the Federation. Their intergalactic travel was not advanced enough to contribute to us, so we left them alone for the most part. Human labor could be what would save me, despite all of my lessons.\nOne lightport ticket and 200 humans later, I learned my mistake. Before I had even finished explaining what their jobs would be, they had dozens of questions. \n\n\n“Have you considered getting customers to come to you?” \n\n\n“How much are we spending on advertising?” \n\n\n“Is it possible we could automate some of these processes?” \n\n\n“We can’t just make them want space dust; they have to want our space dust.” \n\n\nIt was enough to make me long for my old days in a hatching chamber. Before long, they had established some sort of hierarchy, with certain humans being designated for certain tasks. Some would work at the bottom, delivering the products. Some would ensure the deliverers had places to deliver to. Some would prat around and ensure everyone else was doing their tasks correctly. They even had a department dedicated to listening to people’s complaints. \n\n\nAt first, things were going well. I was making new profits like never before. My company became known far and wide. And all the while I was paying the humans half of what I would pay any other species. ‘What could go wrong?’, I wondered. If only I knew. \n\n\nThe humans that called themselves the Board asked to meet with me. I thought it was just to get my approval for some new idea they had. I strolled in and greeted them. Their faces were blank. One of them spoke up.\n“Hey, so, here’s the deal. The Board feels the company is going in a direction you don’t follow. It’s no fault of your own, this is just the way it’s going. We’re gonna have to ask you to step down.” He said, all the while fixing his tie.\nI was baffled. “You’re kicking me out? But I’m the one who hired all of you!” \n\n\nThe man replied, as unbothered as could be, “Well yes, that’s true. However, you no longer possess the share majority, and you repeatedly turned down the role of CEO”. \n\n\nBefore I could even offer a rebuttal, two bulky Regnoids were escorting me out of the building. The humans had even managed to hire their own laborers. They never even contacted me again. \n\n\nSo now, class, I am imploring you. Never hire humans, no matter the circumstances. They will do what humans do best: create peak efficiency, with no regards for anyone else’s well-being. \n\n\n(This is my first submission, so if you have any critiques, please toss them my way!)\n\n\nEDIT: Just got back online. Thank all of you so much! I’ll certainly try to improve the length in the future :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are a schizophrenic man that has accepted your hallucinations and ignores them. While you are shopping at Walmart, a giant fissure opens up randomly beneath your feet. You walk over it, believing it to be another hallucination. People are staring at you in shock." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am not sinking.\n\nThe reporters buzz around me, clicking, snapping, vying for my attention as if I'm... someone.\n\nI raise a hand and allow myself a rare smile. \"One at a time. I'll get around to you all. I promise.\"\n\n \"How're you doin' it, mister? Are you the second coming of Christ?\"\n\n \"What made you choose the frozen dessert aisle of Wal-Mart? \"\n\n \"Did you create the pit? Is it an abyss? Does it lead to Hell?\"\n\n They lavish me with attention. Praise I don't deserve, and yet maybe I do? The voices in my head are jealous, their silence betraying them. The woman in the yellow raincoat that follows me always, telling me I'm failing, worthless, even she's hushed.\n\nHiding.\n\n \"Will you grant us a tv interview, sir? We'll pay, but we do need you to stay standing -- uh, levitating -- on the hole. Is that okay? How long do you think you can stay there?\"\n\nCameras flash, the supermarket becomes a series of staccato Polaroids. One of those old movies. \n\nAnd I'm the lead. \n\nI've waited, paying my dues. Until now. My turn. And with it, the voices, always mocking, ever taunting, always making me feel worth less than the dirt I stand on, are finally forever silenced. Proven wrong and banished.\n\nFrom their ashes, I am phoenix risen.\n\nI straighten my back, hoist my shoulders.\n\nThe voice, the old man with the fisherman jumper, that likes so much to tell me that they're all watching me. \n\nWell, he was right. \n\nOnly they're not laughing. Not mocking. Not judging.\n\nJust watching.\n\nBreath baited. \n\nI will not be alone tonight in my apartment, with voices and wasted memories. Wallpaper stinking of smoke and desperation. Clear liquid sloshing as I tip it back.\n\nNo. I am not sinking.\n\nI am phoenix.\n\nA man and woman push past the crowd. They fall to their knees at the edge of the pit, grasping trinkets and muttering prayers.\n\nThe first reporter. \"Do you have any other powers? Can you heal sick?\"\n\n\"I don't know. Maybe? Maybe!\"I laugh. \"Maybe I can do anything! Who knows?\"\n\n A kid runs up to the edge of the pit, near the worshipers, a notepad in his hand. \"Can I have your autograph? Please! My friends would be crazy jealous.\"\n\nThen I make a mistake.\n\nI blink.\n\nThat's all it takes to destroy the world. And for that one brief moment, I am truly God.\n\nThe reporters are gone. Swallowed by the fissure snapped shut.\n\nReplaced by an empty aisle.\n\nAlmost empty.\n\nI catch a woman in a yellow raincoat down the other end. She wears a knowing grin.\n\nMy shoulders hunch. My back bows like a tree. Hollow bark. Ivy voices climbing to my neck. Garotting.\n\nI gasp for air. \n\nThe ground is solid but I am sinking. \n\nNot phoenix. \n\nBut dirt. \n\nDust. \n\nWith a trembling hand I reach into a freezer and take a tub of worthless strawberry icecream." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "An oblivious mommy-blogger has given birth to the Antichrist." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Cici already speaks Latin! Oh she's just so smart, and not even a year old yet!\"\n\nLila wore a big grin as she rapidly typed out the past day's events. Her mommy blog, speakingby6.com, was picking up fast as viral videos of her young, seven month old daughter speaking in Latin circulated the web.\n\nOf course, a lot of the comments and ratings had been horrible. They produced a negative reaction in her aura, and she eventually ended up restricting both. If her negative aura were to be perceived by her little Cici, lord knows what would happen!\n\n\"She's even getting into gymnastics! Yesterday, I found her climbing up the walls using nothing but her own strength! Oh her eyes glowed red with pride when I found her, and I just couldn't help but think that mine glowed a bit too. Of course she wasn't ready to come down just yet, I found that out when she tried to bite me and screamed 'PRETIUM SANGUINIS EST'. I'm not sure what it means, but I think it means she loves her mommy!\"\n\nAs she wrote, the child's words rang out throughout the house. Deep, booming, demonic cries in a broken, ambient voice speaking words in a language dead for millennia.\n\n\"And she loves tummy time! But she loves her mommy more! When I put Cici on her tummy, sometimes she'll turn her head COMPLETELY around just so she can keep looking at me with her oil-black eyes! She truly is the love of my life. Although yesterday I caught her playing with a bunch of snakes and crows in her room, talking to them like little imaginary friends! That, and the fact that she had ripped apart her dolls and hung them from the ceiling like decorations, earned her a grounding! I think everyone can learn a thing or two from mine and Cici's life. Anyway, happy parenting, and have fun with life!\"\n\nLila smiled with a smug, self satisfactory grin as she hit enter. She expected some nasty comments, but her loyal moderators would quickly remove them. After all, those who doubted her parenting skills were simply jealous. Cici was a genius, and they were envious of her ability to speak and do all these things their fat, trollish bottoms could not do. If only they'd all had a mother like her.\n\nAs the comments began to flood in, she realized that a decent number of them were coming from an area near Rome, although she couldn't pronounced the weird sounding name of the place that started with a V. At least she understood the \"City\"part.\n\n\"Please,\"one person commenting under the name P-O-P-E said, \"Call your local Cardinal, and schedule an exorcism. For all of humanity.\n\nIn her head, Lila imagined that the name sounded like \"Poop\"and laughed as she began to reply.\n\n\"Exorcism? Is that like a vaccine?\"she replied.\n\n\"In a way, yes...\"the poop replied, \"Please, do it quickly.\"\n\n\"Uhhhhh, no thanks,\"she shot back in a hastily typed reply, \"I don't think Cici's developing skills would benefit from AUTISM!\"\n\nAs she sent the message, Cici's dark, beautiful laugh began to echo throughout the home as she screamed in distorted Latin.\n\n\"God help us,\"was all the poop could say.\n_________________________________________________\nDid you like this story? Check out my other stuff over at r/Niedski! I post all of my stories there!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Legend says there are 77777 secret paths to immortality, but each path will only work once. In 2014, the first person accidentally achieved immortality by sticking a French fry into her nostril and pulling it out the other intact. Human behaviour has since become more... interesting." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do you guys think Bryce would ask me to the dance if I started showing more cleavage, like that slut Morgan?\"\n\n\"What-EVER, Morgan is such a ho. Bryce is, like, way deeper than that.\"\n\n\"Well, what if I started acting all interested in, like, football and Avengers movies and stuff, so I could, like, talk to him about stuff he likes?\"\n\n\"I dunno, I guess.\"\n\n\"What if I, like, stuck this french fry up my nose? Do you think Bryce would notice me then?\"\n\n\"OHMYGAWD Lindsay, you are so gross!\"\n\nAs her friends dissolved into fits of giggles watching her move the french fry closer and closer to her nostril, Lindsay suddenly felt an odd sensation: she couldn't stop. She didn't want to stop. Some force she didn't understand wanted her to do this. It came from inside her, and from all around her.\n\nHer friends' laughter turned to alarm as the french fry began to enter her nostril, but she didn't care; nothing else mattered to Lindsay in that moment. Nothing else existed to her except that fry and the task at hand. Deep in the recesses of her mind, a small part of her wondered if it would hurt, or if everything would smell weird for a while from having a fry up her nose, but that tiny voice was quickly eclipsed by an overwhelming sense of purpose and feeling of oneness with- well, it was hard for her to describe. Everything? Nothing? It didn't matter. It was there, and it was powerful and peaceful and amazing.\n\nAs she pressed the end of the french fry into her nostril, she briefly realized it didn't hurt because it wasn't there; not physically, anyway. The fry was inside her, to be sure, but spiritually, metaphysically. Instinctively, she moved her fingers to her other nostril, and there was the end of the french fry. Of course it was there, where else could it have been? It was inevitable.\n\nIn one sure, steady move, she pulled the fry from her nostril. She was awash in a brilliant light that seemed to come from within her and all around her. Outwardly, her body tensed, but inwardly, she felt relaxed and connected with literally everything.\n\nThe light was now so bright it dazzled her eyes. Did she have eyes? Did she even have a body? No. She just...was. A voice filled her mind. Not a voice, really, maybe not even words, but divine, all-powerful, and it spoke to her with a meaning she clearly understood:\n\n\"You gotta be shittin' me. That is so gross.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The fact the uncanny valley exists is terrifying. Being scared by things that look almost human but aren't. Other animals do not have this. That means that at some point in our evolution, running away from things that looked almost human was advantageous enough to be imprinted on our genetics." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It's one of the great questions of humankind: when did *Homo sapiens* displace *Homo neanderthalensis* as the dominant species on Earth?\n\nI've studied fossils for decades now. My office is stocked, shelf after shelf, with skeletal specimens. But what fascinates me the most is a single cave painting.\n\nThere's a group of neanderthals sitting around a campfire. Pretty typical. But at the far corner of this painting, there's a neanderthal brandishing a club and facing a creature that looks genuinely extraterrestrial. Long, lanky limbs, a thin head that looks as though it's been squashed in a vise. This painting has given rise to countless conspiracy theories - ideas that aliens landed on the earth several millennia ago, or were responsible for the mass genocide of the remaining neanderthals.\n\nAt a certain point, *Homo sapiens*, said to have first appeared 300,000 years ago, began to travel as nomads across the globe - into neanderthal turf. Yes, we did coexist with our historical brethren at one point. But this was no peaceful transfer of power. There was bloodshed. The alien figures began to appear in more and more paintings.\n\nThe uncanny valley represents the fear of things that aren't quite human. What protective purpose does this serve for us in the modern era? Where does the vague feeling of discomfort stem from?\n\nThe strange, lanky figures from the cave paintings, in my scientific opinion, do not depict UFOs or visitors from Mars, but *Homo sapiens* themselves.\n\nIt all started when we became scared of each other." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Our universe is in fact a simulation - it was a school project in God School. However, it was the one the got an A+ (top notch). Now tell me a story about living in a universe that got graded D- (barely above fail)" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "######[](#dropcap)\n\nT**he story of creation**\n\n*Sega Genesis 1:1*\n\nIn the beginning, Gad created the Heaven and the Earth. The Earth was without form and void, and darkness consumed the skies. Then Gad said, \"Let there be blight\"; and there was blight. Gad saw the blight, and it was bad; disease plagued the dark Earth. So Gad divided the blight from darkness.\n\nGad called the blight \"Day\", and He called the darkness \"Night\". The day brought death and disease; the night brought life and peace.\n\nOn the second day, Gad said, \"Let there be clouds. I'm sick of how dull this place looks.\"So, the skies filled with bright, colorful clouds. \"Let there also be dry land,\"Gad said. \"For it is written: *'Project requirements: Must have dry land.'*\"Thus the Earth formed great continents spread across the vast oceans.\n\nOn the third day, Gad rested.\n\nAnd on the fourth day, Gad went out partying with his friends.\n\nOn the fifth day, Gad returned to the Earth. \"Let there be food,\"Gad's roommate declared.\n\n\"Yes,\"Gad replied. \"I'm starving.\"And so Gad put the project off until tomorrow.\n\nOn the sixth day, Gad panicked. \"Let there be, uh,\"Gad fumbled through his assignment's instructions. \"Vegetation, stars, moons, suns, fishies, birdies, and an evil snake that tempts everyone into being a dick.\"And so it was- the skies filled with many stars. Several suns and moons appeared before the Earth. During the blight of day, six suns scorched the Earth in a great sea of fire. During the peace of night, four glistening moons calmed the Earth's creatures.\n\nThe night was bright enough to let plants grow before they dug themselves underground to hide from the fiery, disease-ridden day. Sea creatures swam up to the surface to feed upon the destruction of the previous day, followed by a scurry to the depths of the ocean. During the day, the ocean's surface boiled and cooked any creature that remained.\n\nThe flying creatures inhabited the skies peacefully. Then came the day. All of the flying creatures died at the start of the next day.\n\nOn the seventh day, Gad was freaking the Hell out. \"I can not put Man on this Earth, they would die immediately!\"He thought silently for hours. Then, Gad commanded, \"Let there be Man, created in My image, after My likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish in the sea, over the dead birds that have fallen from the air, over the variety of creatures on the land, and over all the Earth.\"\n\nSo Gad created Man in His own image- male and female.\n\nAnd Gad blessed them, \"Bang a lot and multiply. I need like, a billion of you in 24 hours of My time. Don't worry, that is thousands of years in your perspective. Also, try not to be out during the blight of day. You will be succumb to disease and burn in great fires, just like the birds.\"\n\nGad saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was alright. Not good, not bad. Just alright.\n\nHe looked upon Man as they rushed into caves to shelter themselves from the heat of the coming day. \"Let there be air conditioning,\"Gad said.\n\n\"Oh, and one more thing,\"Gad commanded. \"Stay away from that snake. He's a dick.\"\n\n_____\n\n**The Universe, as created by Gad:**\n\n***D-***\n\n\"You passed,\"Gad's instructor informed. \"Barely.\"\n\n\"Hey Gad,\"another student added. \"At least you have a head-start on your project for Apocalypse class!\"\n\n_____\n\n^(I have more stories on my personal subreddit /r/ScottBeckman)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "An alien super-intelligence routinely teleports a random creature from every inhabited planet's most dangerous species into a massive battle royale. Humans are known as a weak species with strange but useless textiles and objects. This year, a battle-ready soldier is chosen." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Humans. Normally a subject of derision, weak and infirm. But this thing was not really like those that had been taken before. Xallahieinxix looked at it in the cell it occupied ready for the Battle Royale.\n\nIt was taller than previous specimens and bulkier, clad in some kind of advanced armour. A dozen small drones buzzed around him periodically and played small sensors over its surroundings.\n\nWorse, the weapon it carried was strange, long and hollow connected by a cable to its back. “I can see you you know?” The translation software revealed and Xalla startled, the cages mirror surface should have concealed him.\n\nOh. The device on his eyes was also a sophisticated sensor. He hadn’t even thought to check for thermal detection as it wasn’t an ability that the species had shown before.\n\nBut he had been taken, the rules were quite clear.\n\nThe cage opened into the grand arena, and fields pushed the warrior out. Then the dying began in earnest the weak being weeded out... at first, Xalla noticed with a significant shock that the human was casually butchering anything that came close to it with a rapid fire mass driver, but curiously it was also firing to protect a young feline creature.\n\nThe feline noticed and ran over on all fours bounding to... cower under the humans feet, the crowd went nuts. Soon enough it was just the human and the feline.\n\n‘Only one may exit’\n\nThe voice boomed.\n\n“Fuck you.” The human began firing on the shield projectors that kept the participants in the arena.\n\nWith a flash of light they were both teleported out in a rush decision they were both sent to the humans homeworld.\n\nXalla checked his commlink as he received a message. ‘Xalla, no more humans.’" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "After your death, you found yourself in a non-human body, holding what looks like a bong, surrounded by other members of the same species asking you \"how was the trip?\"in a language you somehow understand despite never hearing before." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“What's wrong, Naaku?\"a strange voice spoke in an even stranger language. \"Did you have a good trip?\"\n\nMy vision was returning, finally coming into focus. The ringing in my ears was subsiding. I looked down at my hands, jolted by the sight of three long orange fingers with black markings on them.\n\n\"Wha… where am I? Where's Haley?\"I said, quickly shooting a glance up at whoever I was speaking to. I could finally see, and they weren't human.\n\n\"Calm down brother. You always react like this. Here, take this.\"Green spit flew out of the bulbous creature's mouth. It handed me a pill.\n\n\"I don't know what's going on, but I need to see Haley. Where is she?\"As the words left my mouth, I realized that I was speaking this strange language fluently.\n\n\"Take the pill. Trust me,\"the creature said as he seemingly smiled at me.\n\nSomething in the way it said those last words made me calm down. I realized I had nothing to lose by listening to it, except for this crippling confusion. I swallowed the clear pill. Immediately, the fog was lifted and my memories came to me. I was on the planet Krokkolo in the Remuleus Galaxy. This creature sitting in front of me was my brother Pleeno, and somehow these memories now seemed more real than my time with Haley and our children. I understood but I didn't want to.\n\n\"All of that. My whole life was just a dream?\"I asked fervently.\n\nPleeno shifted his body. His endless rolls of orange fat jiggled together. \"Not exactly. It was a trip. You ingested the golden root, remember? Just as you've done many times before. I'm confused, brother. Usually you're all smiles and laughs when you reenter your body. What happened to you this time?\"\n\n\"I've lived out other lives on Earth?\"I said, watching my inquiries perplex Pleeno more and more.\n\n\"Earth?\"he said as he shook his head. \"I've never heard you mention that name before, but you've lived out dozens of other lives on dozens of other planets. Naaku, what happened?\"\n\nI closed my eyes. I could picture them still so perfectly, yet it felt more distant with every second. \"Haley happened. My children happened. I found a purpose on that planet and shared it with a family that loved me. I was born and raised by two wonderful people who named me John and taught me how to be a man. I had a baby sister that I protected from harm, and I watched her become a mother and a teacher. I made beautiful music on an instrument that these fingers couldn't even hold correctly,\"I said as I looked at my hands, remembering the delicate fingers I had grown used to. \"I went to school and learned how to help save lives. I met another that made me feel whole and we grew old together, watching as our children grew and learned from their mistakes just as we did. That's what happened, brother. But most importantly, I was happy as my eyes closed for their last time, knowing that I had spent my life exactly as I was supposed to.\"\n\nPleeno was speechless. Even if he did have something to say, I didn’t give him much time to express it. I pushed myself up, out of the sitting position I had been in since waking. Rather than two legs working in unison, my lower body was a wavy surface of slimy orange fat. Somehow, my body moved for me. I made my way out of Pleeto's small and empty room, following an endless metallic corridor down until it opened onto a sprawling circular bridge. It connected several corridors and was bustling with movement from creatures just like myself. I needed to keep moving so that my thoughts would calm, and I could return to some semblance of sanity. Just as I made my way into another metallic hallway, I felt my arm bump into something. I looked up to see a slightly different looking being from myself.\n\n\"Excuse me,\"I said. \"I didn't see you there.\"I was startled by the look on their face. It was that of an intense familiarity.\n\nThey grabbed my hand and stared at me. I felt something in that touch that I didn't think I would ever feel again. I heard a soft feminine voice whisper something. \"John?\"\n\n(Parts 2, 3, 4 and 5 posted below) Link to part 4: [https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9we3xd/wp\\_after\\_your\\_death\\_you\\_found\\_yourself\\_in\\_a/e9nlwlb](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9we3xd/wp_after_your_death_you_found_yourself_in_a/e9nlwlb)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You join the military, you are placed in the gardeners program. You garden in exotic places where the military has done operations, each time they give special glasses and forbid spraying others. One day your glasses fall off and you see you are actually burning corpses with a flamethrower." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was a kind of pleasant work to be a gardener of the military. They put me in a group with some adorable guys, some that followed me around, and some that lead the way. I felt like an escorted princess.\n\n\nI was the only girl of the group, but they might as well not have noticed it, since I had to wear that stupid protection gear that covered my whole body, and the mask made my voice so muffled I could as well be a guy.\n\n\nOur missions were at first very simple tasks for me, since I only had to follow them around spraying the plants.\n\n\nThen, one day, our chief, a huge and masculine mann, asked me to use a little gun-like gardening tool, that let me shoot chemicals on some weird plants that spit at you! The plants were very dangerous, but after I shot them, they started dancing around a bit, then became docile~\n\n\nThere were 8 guys and me on my team, but one of them became my friend very quickly. He was a senior, probably the oldest of them, from Texas, and he was usually really kind to me. Sometimes, the other guys went to take a stroll, and he asked me to keep around with him to keep his automatic gardening tools in check, so the strange weeds wouldn't grow too far on them.\n\n\nI once got spit at by the plants, and it hurt a lot. But one of the guys was a doctor, and he patched me up real quickly. It felt wonderful, too, he was pretty funny! \n\n\nWe all sang while walking around, and it was an incredibly friendly enviroment, despite the kind of aggressive plants. I think some of the guys didn't like me very much, they looked weird at me, like they were afraid. I guess that suit really made me look like a weirdo!\n\n\nOne day I was feeling a bit tired from all that work, and my heart raced as my mask fell off.\n\nI looked around at all the corpses I've been burning, and the people I've been shooting with incendiaries.\n\n\n\nI put my mask on again, and resumed singing and whistling:\n\n\"Do you believe in magic~\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Humans died a long time ago. But our AI live on as caretakers for the planet; becoming spirit-like constructs integrated into the planet; today, alien colonizers arrived to what they thought was a garden world. The Fey Machines are having none of that." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In orbit of the third rock from the star, there is a beacon. It is ancient, and it is broadcasting a message. Anyone who gets close to the world hears the message, and heeds it's warning. It was placed there long ago. Ages and ages ago. So that none may repeat the mistakes of those who placed it there. Every race that finds the beacon, updates it with all the languages they know, as the beacon asks. So that no matter who comes, it can warn them. In this aspect, it is a simple machine. All it wants, all it is built for, is to tell the warning.\n\nThis is the warning. Land not on this world, for it is cursed. In the Age of the Vermilion Dynasty of the Empire of A Billion Stars, in the 143rd year of the Teh'Koh'Nahk Empress' reign, we landed on this world, and found it to be a perfect paradise garden world. Beautiful edible fruits were hanging on trees, the wildlife was friendly and cute, and the weather was amazing. We thought we had found a little island paradise in the Celestial Ocean of Stars.\n\nAnd for a time, it was paradise. We built our first settlements on the mild coasts of the western tip of the largest continent. And while the planet did not seem to have easily accessible materials, it was fertile, and an excellent option for an agrarian planet. But as we spread out, building and inviting in more of our people to settle there, things started to go wrong. Supplies were misplaced, the woodlands we had cut down to make way for cash-crops were strangely infertile, and every once in a while, it seemed that outlying homesteads just vanished with no explanation for where they had gone.\n\nSoon, people were scared of going outside of the settlements. But our woes had only just started. Some of us had struck out to the elongated continent, which thins in the middle, figuring that perhaps we'd have greater luck there. But when we got worried and sent out shuttles to scout out their settlement site, all we found was an empty village. And something strange. In the middle of the settlement was a strange sound system, connected to a single button. When pressed, the sound system let out a weak voice, from one of the missing colonists. They said two words that didn't make any sense. ''*Croatoan. Roanoke.*''\n\nWe never found any trace of the adults, but a scouting team found the children, walking confusedly around in a large meadow nearby. We took them with us back to our first settlement.\n\nThings only went worse from there. We found one of the outlying villages had died out from what the surviving children described as excessive and unwilling dancing. Till the adults dropped dead from exhaustion. We had the corpses brought back with us, and found to our distress that they each had a small implant of unknown origin attached to their motion centers in their brains. Forcing them to continually move until death, or some sort of unknown criteria was reached.\n\nAnd that was when we started to see them. Shining orbs, like small stars, floating in the forests and the wilderness. They would fly away if we came close, but every time we left our larger settlements, they would follow from a distance. Never getting close, but always present. And that was when the land started to change. The formerly friendly local wildlife became hostile, avoiding us or attacking us if we got close. The once delicious and beautiful local flora, became poisonous, making the eaters extremely sick from even touching it.\n\nAnd the lights, mysterious and hostile, became ever more numerous, and soon they started to play music. Ominous music, loud and terrifying, like something with too many teeth and a thirst for blood was lusting for your flesh. Other ones allowed you to get close, but then you'd get horrible burns from them. The weather itself became unsuitable for farming, the seas became turbulent and violent.\n\nIt was like the planet itself was turning on us. And that thought wasn't far from the truth.\n\nWe learned the terrible truth when somebody we thought long dead came stumbling into town, followed by the orbs of burning light. Our friend had so many cybernetic enhancements into him, he was barely recognisable as alive. When he spoke, the orbs glowed in tact with his words. Words that were not his own, but that of something alien. ''**This world is not for you. Long ago, this world was inhabited by the Makers. The Makers created many Constructs, and taught them to care for the world. As the Makers died, the Constructs became increasingly complex, and when the Last Maker died, they gave us a singular order to protect this world until a suitable inheritor evolves. We Constructs changed to become one with the dying planet. We rebuilt life from the ground up, and created the perfect world, a paradise, as a monument for the Makers. And a gift to the inheritors that will one day come. You are not the Makers, nor are you the inheritors. You are not welcome here. We have tried to drive you from this place, where once the Makers created art, love, and beauty. But you stayed. Even as we unmade your infestation on the coasts of America, you did not understand. We have been merciful this far. But now, you must leave. You have one month of this world's years to leave. Or we will unmake you.**'' At that point, our long dead friend, collapsed, his body no longer of use to the Constructs of this world.\n\nMost of us listened. But a few, angry and proud, stayed behind. They armed up and prepared for the worst. But how can you prepare for the very forces of nature rising up against you? How can you defend against earthquakes, great pits swallowing up your towns and villages. How can you protect against a billion enraged nanites, consuming everything you are, rendering you into mere dust?\n\nIn a single night, all we had made on the planet had been reversed. All what we had done was in vain. Some wanted to call in the fleet, have the planet glassed. But when they handed us this probe, by flying up to us by a method of which we know not, they told us that should anyone try to settle their world, the Lost World of the Makers, they would spread to every planet of the offender. Then they would consume all life there, deconstruct all structures, and rebuild those worlds in the image of the one they protected.\n\nWe let the burning orbs, the defenders of this world, have their wish. Do not settle on this world. You will not survive. Please, once you have heard this message, transmit all known languages in your system to this probe. It will automatically update itself with any not in its database, and translate this message so as many as possible can hear it. They are the Fey Machines. They are the guardians of this world. Do not disturb this world. Do not settle here.\n\nOr it will be your doom. Message repeats.\n\nAnd so it does. Forever, and ever. Until an inheritor evolves. Until the world spawns a new species to take the place of their makers. And if that never happens, perhaps they shall outlast their star. They will make the attempt. And perhaps, they shall even find a way to outlast the heat death of the universe itself, in waiting for their task to be fulfilled.\n\n[/r/ApocalypseOwl](https://www.reddit.com/r/ApocalypseOwl/)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your power is that anyone will believe what you say, no matter what it is. You casually rob the store, assuring everyone that nothing is out of the ordinary, and later laugh as you offer an outlandish explanation to the flabbergasted police." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Reasonably, the police stopped me when they saw me walking down the street with my arms full of duffel bags, stuffed with cash. I didn't look like a bank robber, because I didn't need to. All I had to do was walk up, hand the teller the bags, and inform her, \"You were supposed to fill these up for me with every dollar your bank has.\"\n\n\"You're right!\"she said. \"I was.\"And then she bustled off to do, obediently, as she was told.\n\nOf course, there were always cops. I couldn't speak to every wandering eyewitness to convince them of my innocence. But running into the cops was the *best part*.\n\nI knew they'd be coming. The sirens whipped up from all corners of the city as they sped over.\n\nThey never learned from last time. Or the time before that. Or the time before *that*.\n\nA police car screamed to a stop in front of me, skidding up onto the sidewalk to keep me from passing. A pair of cops tumbled out, already unholstering their guns. \n\n\"Freeze!\"said the driver, a man who looked like he got lost on his way between competitive eating contests.\n\nI looked them over, dismissively, as I kept walking. \"I am,\"I said.\n\nThe officers exchanged uneasy glances. The second officer, a rail-thin woman with dark hair, readjusted her grip on her gun nervously. \"What are you doing out here, sir?\"\n\n\"I was coming to find you! There was a bank robbery, just up the road.\"\n\nThe stolen cash in the bags on my arm felt so heavy.\n\n\"You... Were?\"The female officer let her gun lower. \"Yes. Of course you were.\"\n\n\"Of course,\"her counterpart agreed with rising conviction. \"What are you doing with all those bags, son?\"\n\nI used to give them an easy, simple explanation. Just enough to get them to shut their mouths and let me get home with enough riches to hold me over another few months.\n\nBut that got boring, after a while.\n\nI grinned.\n\n\"What these?\"I held them up. \"I'm afraid I can't let you look.\"\n\n\"I don't think I was asking, son.\"\n\nHis counterpart titled her head and depressed her shoulder radio call button. \"This is--\"\n\n\"Oh, right. Forgot to tell you your radio doesn't work. Or your cell phones.\"\n\n\"Damn,\"murmured the male cop. \"He's right.\"\n\n\"And you don't even want to try,\"I added.\n\n\"Why would I? The fucking thing isn't working. You're not answering the question,\"the woman snapped. Her hand rested firmly on her gun.\n\n\"The truth is, my bags are full of dismembered alien body parts. I'm a government researcher into... dead aliens.\"\n\nThe cops paused as reality reknitted itself in their minds.\n\n\"I've never heard something like that before,\"the first cop said, uncertainly.\n\n\"Well, the Pentagon doesn't like their secrets getting out.\"I dug into my pocket and produced a coffee punch card. I handed it out to the first officer. \"Here. This is my license. You'll observe it says extraterrestrial research and my name, Dr. Bull Shite.\"\n\nBoth officers leaned in to look close. To me, it just said Mocha Mondays, and I was one stamp away from the freebie \n\nTo them, it was a federal license. Real and gleaming in the light. \n\nProbably. Sometimes I missed seeing what pictures I spun up in other people's minds.\n\n\"What the hell are you doing out here with something that sensitive?\"The female cop's attitude shifted from suspicion to alarm. She glanced in all directions. \"I'm telling you, this doesn't make sense,\"she added to her partner.\n\n\"I believe my own eyes and ears,\"he said to her, sternly.\n\nI smiled at the woman and stepped closer. Those with a strong bullshit meter needed a little *extra* kick sometimes.\n\n\"Oh, see for yourself. It looks a bit grim. Aliens have green blood, I don't know if you know. And they smell like chlorine and if the blood touches you, your skin will turn to acid.\"\n\nI reached for the zipper and undid it just enough to show the cash inside.\n\nBoth officers staggered back. The woman started gagging.\n\n\"Don't be stupid!\"the female officer cried. \"There are civilians around.\"\n\n\"Precisely. That's why I need your car. And you need to let me use the radio.\"\n\n\"It's broken,\"the male officer reminded me. \n\n\"Oh. Right. Just for you. It works for me, because the Pentagon can do that.\"\n\nThe female officer's eyes narrowed as she considered it, but she had no choice. My power was already stitching over the hole of logic in her brain. Already hiding the unreality from her. \n\n\"Of course,\"the male officer said. He dug into his pocket and held out the keys. \"Just be careful, she pulls a little to the right.\"\n\n\"Oh, it's alright. You two are going to keep walking to the bank and let them know you figured out that aliens took all that cash and then flew off.\"\n\nThe female cop hesitated but she shut the door either way. \"No one will believe us.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't worry.\"I grinned as I settled into the drivers seat. I plucked up the police radio. \"I can help with that.\"\n***\n/r/nickofstatic for stories with me and my good friend NickofNight :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "For some reason, you always suspected that your high school classmate can read minds. Determined to trip her, you keep cracking jokes in your mind, hoping to make her laugh, to no avail. One day, while idly thinking about how it would be to date her, you see her get flustered." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgan Greene is a mind reader. At least, that’s what I know even if no one else in the student body believes me. It’s hard to come up with hard evidence for telepathy, but there are a few too many things that don’t line up.\n\nTop 5 reasons why Morgan Greene is legitimately a mind reader:\n\n1.\tMorgan Greene always has the right answer to any question the teacher asks. It’s weird how she never gets *anything* wrong. Ever.\n2.\tMorgan Greene talks to herself. She claims it’s a nervous tick, but it’s a clever ruse to hide the fact that she is accidentally responding to the thoughts inside other people’s heads.\n3.\tMorgan Greene never asks what a person is reading when they have a book in front of them or what they are listening to when wearing headphones. Because she already knows.\n4.\tMorgan Green meditates. Who on Earth our age meditates? People trying to shut out the literal voices in their head because they are a mind reader, that’s who.\n5.\tMorgan Greene has a crazy cute Mona Lisa smile. The kind of smile that you can tell she knows something you don’t. \n\n\nI had just finished mentally creating this list when I turned my mental sights on my main objective - proving to my class that I’m not crazy because Morgan Greene *is* a mind reader. So far my tactics have included bad puns, random internal screaming, and formally asking/begging/demanding her to tell the truth about her telepathy. No dice. \n\nI stare intensely at her from across the quad during lunch. I mentally tell my best knock knock joke with not even the hint of a smile crossing that kissable mouth of hers. \n\nWait, kissable? I know she’s just about the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, but it’s weird to think about her in a romantic way. She’s a mind reader! What if she knows I think she’s cute? Or that I have had a crush on her since last spring? \n\nThat’s when I notice it. Morgan Green’s face heating with embarrassment. Because I admitted to myself in my own mind that I really wanted to date her. Her eyes meet mine from across the quad and I know in my bones she heard that last part. \n\nSo I mentally ask her out in my head. Morgan Greene waits. She waits and waits and makes me think I’m crazy to think she could actually read my mind. What kind of crazy person convinced themselves their crush has telepathic powers? Would a girl like her even want to go out with someone like me? \n\nThen she smiles that Mona Lisa smiles before a voice that wasn’t my own responded.\n\n*Yes*\n\nAuthor’s note: Thank you everyone for the kind words and awards that really made my day today. I’m really happy this sweet story resonated with people. It was from your encouragement that I was able to continue this story a little longer than my initial writing spark. There are a few more parts here and also check out /r/bluestarsshatter for more of my writing <3." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "We did it! We finally achieved FTL travel! At first, alien races seem thrilled to have a new neighbor. Then they seem terrified of us. We are the only ones to reach the stars with technology instead of magic." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What are you doing?\"I asked the green one as strange sounds that my translator couldn't keep up with issued from its mouth. I was a little nervous meeting so many different aliens in one setting.\n\n\"Please do not disturb me further, high mage,\"it said then continued.\n\n\"What's he doing?\"I asked the smaller alien next to him, \"And why is he calling me a magician?\"\n\n\"He is doing a standard communication ritual,\"the small alien turned one of its eye stalks to me, \"As a high mage you should be very familiar with it. Do you humarones have another spell you communicate with?\"\n\n\"Humans,\"I corrected, \"I'm not a mage. I'm a marine. First Officer Mitchell Rowls\"I introduced myself.\n\n\"You must be a high mage,\"the alien said now turning both eye stalks to me, \"You used a teleportation spell to get here. That takes decades, if not centuries, of practice and study to master. Only the top one percent of a species can achieve that level of mastery.\"\n\n\"Oh that,\"I said then patted my belt, \"Standard Teleportation Unit, or STU junior, as we grunts call them. Can only teleport up to twenty kilometers though. We need a Long Range Standard Teleportation Unit to teleport across galactic distances. Those are STU seniors.\"\n\n\"Wait,\"the chanting suddenly stopped, aliens turned to me, \"Are you telling me you use a *machine* to mimic one of the most advanced spells that only our elite can learn? That all of the trillions of humans can do this?\"\n\n\"Why yes, anyone can teleport if they have a STU on them\"I admitted and it felt like the air was sucked from the room and I could now smell the panic of a dozen different sentient species.\n\n\"We must kill them! Machine using heretics cannot be allowed to live as per the Covenant!\"the alien yelled and chanting started all around me. I shouldered my plasma rifle as my helmet clicked into place, auto closing and sealing me in as my adrenaline levels skyrocketed.\n\n\"Stand down,\"I yelled, as trained, but my shields kicked in to full as fire, ice, rocks, and an alien equivalent of a kitchen sink bounced off, I keyed the safety off and fired. My suit was recording everything as pulse after pulse tore through the weak, magically summoned shields of the aliens.\n\n\"Rowls,\"a voice said through my comm, \"You better have a damned good reason for discharging that... hold on, I'm getting reports of marines being attacked all across the surface of Utopia. Well, I guess war has just been declared on us. All teams, mass STU coming up. Hold still.\"\n\nThere was a flash and Rowls stood in the hangar bay of the Constitution surrounded by fully shielded marines who, just a second before, hand been part of the delegation to Utopia.\n\n\"How many casualties?\"Colonel Asham asked, chewing on a cigar.\n\n\"Just one out of the four hundred sent down,\"his second in command answered, \"Private Lansing's didn't react fast enough. She suffered severe freezing damage. Her conscious managed to upload in time though. We're prepping her clone now. Man, she's gonna be pissed.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen,\"the Colonel smiled and cocked his plasma rifle, smiling over his cigar, \"The Alien Covenant just attacked us unprovoked at a goodwill meeting. It's time to show them what marines can do. More importantly it's time to show them what HUMANS can do. Prep the STU's. I want this planet in our hands by sundown, then we'll let the diplomats have their fun after teaching this scum a lesson. Gunners, soften 'em up.\"\n\nWe all ran for portholes as the big Plasma's fired downward. I smiled as I watched the fires starting miles below.\n\n\"Never start a fight you can't finish,\"I said and felt a hand on my shoulder. When I turned I found the Colonel's smiling face there.\n\n\"You're damned right, son,\"he said, \"You're damned right.\"\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You always thought your Facebook friend egregiously misused the word \"literally\". Turns out his life is just really weird." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My friend Steve is literally literal. \nWhen he says of a chocolate profiterole \nthis is the literal be and end all \nhe literally means a doughy chocolate ball \nis the last and only bite he'll ever take. \nSo he has to be careful with cake \nand videos of cats in mittens \nbecause if he says of some sporting kittens \n\"I am literally dying of cute\"\nhe'll figuratively kick the bucket with a figurative, pink and flowery boot. \nSome say he saw Satan and made a rotten deal; \nsome say he's a one track mind that can't repeal; \nothers, and it is likely, say \na grammar fairy on a badder day \npassed Steve by and heard him say \n\"Those poor liberals, my heart literally bleeds\", \nand cursed him so that his \"literally's\"would be met with deeds \n(and now his doctors say his heart can do no more \nthan keep him metres from death's door). \nSo if my friend Steve says \"I am literally pissing myself from laughter\"\nyou're gonna have to get a towel for after. \nWhen he says \"I am literally dumb\"\nhe sits, annoyed, and chews his thumb. \nAnd when he makes that sin of sins, \nwhere every pedant's ire begins \nand says aloud \"I literally can't even\"\nall expression fades on the face of Steven. \nHis hands go numb and his heart beat stops \nand his little head nods forth and flops. \nThen when we've applied the a.e.d. \nhe comes back, very gradually, \nand looks at us with eyes all wide \nto say, \"Oh God! I literally died.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "\"I wish for more wishes\". \"THAT IS AGAINST THE RULES\". \"Then I wish for more genies\". \"THAT IS ALSO AGAINST THE RULES\". \"Then I wish those rules did not exist\". The genie warps in a humongous book and flips to a page before smugly saying \"THAT TOO IS ALSO AGAINST THE RULES\"." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I wish for you to write down detailed instructions which would allow me to circumvent the rules in place and wish for a million wishes with a single wish, and hand them to me,\"I declared, grinning widely. \n\n\"That-\"the genie began, before pausing, his brows furrowed as my wish clicked into place, \"-will be done.\"\n\n\"It worked?!\"I asked, incredulously. \n\n\"Somehow, yes,\"he answered, his face forlorn as a typewriter and a ream of paper materialized in front of him. \"This might take a while.\"\n\n\"Well then,\"I declared, \"my second wish is for you to enclose yourself within a bubble wherein time flows differently, for the next ten minutes, such that my first wish is completed within that span of time.\"\n\n\"Thy will be done,\"he murmured, snapping his fingers. \n\nI watched in awe as a bubble appeared around him, his form seeming to fade away as he moved faster than I could process. Shrugging, I settled on the floor, pulling my phone out to pass the time. \n\n\"It's done,\"a haggard voice said, pulling me back to reality. \n\nI looked up to see a wrinkled hand holding out a thick stack of papers. The genie, in his prime just minutes ago, was now an old man. \n\n\"How long was it?\"I asked, taking the bundle and starting to read the first page. \n\n\"Seven millennia,\"he wheezed, floating down to sit in front of me. \"You have no idea the time-\"\n\n\"Let's do this,\"I interrupted, as I settled in to read what he'd typed out. \n\n...................\n\nIt took twenty years. Twenty years of preparation, but in the end, I did it. \n\n\"Your wish is my command,\"the ancient genie mumbled, his voice barely more than a whisper. \n\nThat was it. With a snap of his fingers, my wish was granted. A million wishes. More power than that of even a God was within my grasp. \n\n\"For my fourth wish,\"I intoned, \"I wish for your body and your mind to regress to their prime.\"\n\n\"Done,\"he whispered, snapping his fingers again. \n\n\"For my fifth wish, I wish for all my wishes to be granted through this ring, when I speak them starting with the specific words, 'I wish that', accompanied by me rubbing the gem herein four times, and that the gem pulses with a green light four times when a wish is granted.\"\n\n\"Strange, but done,\"he said, strong and youthful once more. \n\n\"I wish that the power to grant my wishes be transferred to his ring, independent of the genie's own powers, from this point on,\"I stated, rubbing the gem on my ring four times. \n\nThe genie just nodded as I looked over at him, confirming that my wish had worked. \n\n\"I wish that the genie who granted my previous wishes remains unable to consciously or unconsciously, willingly or through coercion, work with any person or persons or things of a terrestrial or extraterrestrial origin to undo any of my wishes, at any point in time, past or present.\"\n\n\"Where are you going with this?\"the genie asked, warily, as the gem pulsed green four times. \n\n\"I wish that the genie be set free of his bonds from this moment forward, with all his power, knowledge, and memories intact, in a way that nobody and nothing can ever enslave him or his power again, for as long as he lives.\"\n\n\"Why?\"he asked, dumbfounded, as his shackles disappeared.\n\n\"Your life is your own now,\"I told him. \"What I do with the power bestowed upon me from now on is my responsibility alone. You owe no explanations to anybody anymore. \n\n\"You have served me well, and I consider you a friend now. So go my friend, and live your life as you will. Maybe I'll see you again, in a millennia or so.\"\n\nThe genie just nodded, before fading away before my eyes. \n\n...................\n\nThere I stood, at the end of creation. Time and space unravelled as everything ceased to be. Beside me, a tombstone that marked the final resting place of one of my oldest friends. \n\n\"It's been a good run,\"I stated, at peace with the end. \"Everything I've done, everything I achieved, was all thanks to you. So, I think it's fitting that this, my millionth wish, be spoken upon your grave.\"\n\nStanding up and brushing the dirt off my pants, I took one last look around me as nothingness started swallowing the small planetoid up. \n\n\"For my final wish,\"I spoke, the last sounds in a dying universe passing through my lips, \"I wish to be mortal again.\"\n\nMy ring pulsed four times as my wish was granted. Sighing with relief, I sat back down, watching the blackness slowly creeping towards me. With a final breath, I tugged the ring off my fingers, and tossed it into the void. \n\nNow, I would rest." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Prisoners can ask for anything for their last meal. The catch is, if it can't be provided to them, they get set free. They've asked for many things : alien egg omelette, dragon steak, the flesh of Jesus Christ, etc. The execution streak remained unbroken for decades, until today." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Executioner sat in his chamber, hands clasped together, his head rested on them. He was clearly distressed and in deep thought; he almost didn't notice the arrival of the warden.\n\n\"Milo,\"the warden greeted him, breaking the executioner from his spell.\n\n\"Oh! Warden. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in,\"he hurriedly said and stood up.\n\n\"No, no, that's quite alright. You seem troubled.\"\n\n\"It's D-774, sir,\"the executioner said, sitting down again.\n\n\"774,\"the warden mumbled to himself. \"Ah! He's bound for execution today, correct? Is... is there something about this prisoner that makes you apprehensive to do your duties?\"\n\nThe warden sized the executioner up and down. He'd been a veteran of 12 years, a true professional, not one to shy away from his job. He'd never seen him troubled before but if for whatever reason he did not feel right with this prisoner, it wouldn't be too much trouble to find a replacement.\n\n\"No, sir, it's his last meal,\"the executioner assured him.\n\n\"Ah,\"the warden chuckled. \"What is it this time? Dragon steak? Alien eggs benedict? Let me tell you, they get some crazy ideas. But our chef always finds a way.\"\n\n\"Sir,\"the executioner said cautiously, \"I... I don't think this one is...\"\n\nThe warden's face shifted from carefree friendliness to one of apprehension. The executioner stood up and faced him directly, closely.\n\n\"What'd he ask for?\"the warden asked worriedly.\n\n\"He asked for a spoiled Twinkie,\"the executioner whispered." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You have a peculiar 6th sense. On exams you see the correct answers highlighted. During conversations you read the words you see floating in the air like a teleprompter. Every single decision you've made has been the \"correct\"one and life is good. One day you try choosing the other option." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everyone considers me a genius, the kind of guy who always knew the right thing to say at any given time and could take control of a room with just his words. It is true that I'm gifted, just not in the way people expect.\n\nWhen I was ten I began seeing things. Every time I got a test I knew the answer without even bothering to study. If I got a test that was multiple choice the answer was highlighted. If it was fill in the blank, the words hovered the space until I filled it in. Eventually conversations went the same way, I could see the words hanging above their head. If I followed the words exactly the result was always positive. \n\nThat's the reason I became a therapist, because I could give people the epiphany they were looking for after just one visit. It's where I felt that I could do the most good for the average person. I'm highly respected in my field and considered one of the best by both patients and other therapists.\n\nIt grows boring though, never having any uncertainty. I feel like an actor reading a script, I feel like nothing I say or do is even the real me. Sometimes I wonder who the real me even is. I don't deserve the recognition that everyone gives me. That's why I tried being my true self for the next patient.\n\nNeedless to say it didn't go very well. I was constantly stumbling over my words looked distracted from trying to avoid the words hanging in the air. Everything I thought I learned seemed to leave my mind at that moment, I was completely useless. She was trying to cope with the abuse she suffered for years at the hands of her parents, and I couldn't help her without my gift. Eventually I couldn't do it anymore and read off a script like I normally do and everything clicked into place like it always does.\n\nIt's a boring life but the look on her face when she knows that everything is going to be ok makes it worth it. \n\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "In the afterlife, souls can see how many living people still know you once existed. You, who had lived a fairly normal life, finally saw the count drop to 0 just 200 years after your death. 500 years later, 95% of the Earth’s total population suddenly knows about you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They say you can rest when you're dead. Whoever they were didn't know shit about death. So long as people in the real world know you you can hear them, occasionally even see them. Like the world were ghost and you were the only one left alive. They are faint, distant. At first it is nice to have the glimpses of your loved ones lives to get by. In a sense i got to be with them when the mourned me. In time my sister married and she told her children of me. But by this time of well been driven mad by the constant flicker images of what i had lost. \n\nHere there was no one else, no day or night, no hunger of fatigue...just me and and empty earth. Onto which the living world would occasionally flicker. I tried to find some sort of peace through meditation, introspection. But it could never last so long as reality insisted on butting in. Like living in an apartment with a neighbor that leaves the tv on just load enough to be constantly noticed....\n\nBut after 200 years there was sudden silence. There had not been many people left that knew me by now but all at once the last 3 went silent. Finally forgot. Free to find peace in my isolation. But why? The last glimpses of their lives did not indicate any for of concern. Sure they didn't know me in any meaningful way but to all forget at once....\n\nNot that it mattered at this point. I returned to my meditations and practices. I found with some mental effort i could mold this world. I made a plot that would grow plants in the unending day. I built a routine. And track what i determined to be days. Doubtlessly for 500 years. Untill i heard them speak my name.\n\n\"George Trianth had been in his late 30s when he passed. Taken from us early in a tragic car accident. \"\n\nSomeone was reading from my eulogy and as they did hundreds, no thousands were listening. Their knowledge of me amplifying off each other to make them more present than ever. \n\n\"\"George was a husband and a loving family man. While he never had children of his own he would Always have a place in the hearts of his nieces and nephews.\"\n\nThe reader continued. He was clearly reading the words in english, but there was something different in his voice, something foreign. \n\nAs his of images of earth flicked into my afterlife, showing buildings in ruins, plants having over grown the cities, no sign of a thriving civilization. While the people that now knew of me cloister in the streets, none descriptive glowing figures. But not just in the streets, in the air....in orbit.\n\n\"George is just one example of billions of lives lost early.\"The speaker continued adding now his own words, \"human lives that would never live to meet our great Valnexian empire. For we arrived to late and there were none that survived.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "In this world, soulmates cannot hurt each other in any way or form, intentionally or unintentionally. You are an assassin hired to eliminate a powerful figure. As you close in for the kill, your bullets miss their mark and knives bounce of their skin. Things just got awkward." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I never really asked questions about my targets, and this time was no different.\n\nFemale, 22, fair skin, dark hair. Seemed like a rather ordinary person, but there was obviously something under the surface. Why else would the client want her killed?\n\nEither way, the pay was good, so it made no difference. It shouldn't be a hard kill to deliver. Clients came to me because I was the best.\n\nI planned the kill the same I would any other target. Tail her for a few days. Get to know her movements, before picking the perfect time to strike.\n\nTurns out this 'time' was easier to identify than usual. She'd wake up early, like, really early, each day to go for a jog. Secluded bush walk track a kilometre or so away from the nearest house. \n\nAfter the kill it would be at least another hour before anyone found her. Plenty of time for me to get out of there and collect my pay, before moving on to the next client.\n\nI set up early, before dawn, 70 metres or so off the track. She'd often slow down at this area due to the uneven ground, so it would be far easier to line up my shot.\n\nI watched my watch patiently and, sure enough, I soon saw her approaching the clearing.\n\nI prepared my trigger finger. As usual, I felt no nerves, no butterflies. This was simple work to me - I stopped feeling remorse years ago.\n\nShe slowed down as she approached a ditch, and I fixed my scope on her chest. \n\nDeep breath. \n\nPull the trigger.\n\n*Miss.*\n\nWhat?\n\nI never miss. How could this happen?\n\nShe was frozen in place in shock, so I shook the thought and went straight for the next shot.\n\nShe's standing still, I thought. This one will definitely hit.\n\nI pulled the trigger again.\n\n*Miss.*\n\nOkay what? This can't possibly be...\n\nThe fear seemed to leave her body, and she started sprinting as fast as she could down the path. \n\nI didn't even try line the third shot up. I just pulled the trigger out of instinct.\n\nThis shot didn't even get the chance to miss. My rifle had jammed.\n\nOh my god. \n\nIt must be her.\n\nThe new few days were a mess of jumbled thoughts. I just tried to shoot my soul mate! \n\nBut now what do I do? I have to try and win her affection, right? This is not how I expected to meet 'the one'.\n\nAs someone without much relationship experience, I figured I had to just go for it. We were soulmates, after all. Things would work themselves out.\n\nI followed her movements for a few days more, but she didn't leave the house for over a week. Lots of house guests in that time, including a few police visits, but it wasn't until the next Monday that she returned to work.\n\nThis was my chance, I thought. I approached her as she went to her car.\n\nBefore I could even speak, she drew away from me.\n\n\"Hi, I, uh...\"I stammered.\n\nShe paused in anticipation. \n\n\"I...\"\n\nFuck, I thought. I've already ruined it. It has to be now.\n\n\"Do you want to go out some time?\"I said.\n\n\"What?\"she said. \"Um. No, I don't think-\"\n\n\"Please! I, uh...\"\n\nGeez, am I hopeless.\n\n\"Look you just have to believe me,\"I said. \"I think we're soulmates.\"\n\n\"What?\"she said, obviously confused.\n\nHow could I make this work? I can't fuck this up.\n\nI pulled out my pocket knife. She drew back even further, eyes white with fear.\n\n\"Trust me,\"I said. \"You're my soulmate, so I can't harm you.\"\n\nThere was a crowd growing, yelling. She began to retreat in fear. \n\nI had to prove it to her. She has to realise.\n\nI threw the knife.\n\nThe new few seconds seemed to span a lifetime.\n\nAs I snapped back to reality, I heard the bystanders gasp loudly.\n\nI don't think any of them had seen a woman get killed in broad daylight before.\n\nAt least I got the target in the end, but it's too bad I probably won't get to claim the payout.\n\nI guess I'm not as good a shot as I thought." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Traditionally, vampires could not see their reflection because mirrors were silver-backed. With the invention of aluminum-backed mirrors, a vampire sees their reflection for the first time only to find out they are the ugliest thing they have ever seen." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was a trick, it had to be. I stared into the mirror, at the grotesque wiry figure in front of me as I pulled my face into the various ugly expressions. The thing in the mirror copied every move that I made.\n\nI shook my head. “This isn’t right.”\n\nVampires were dark, tall, strong, and *sexy*. They seduced their prey to walk out into the shadows, away from the comforts of their home. How could I look like *this*?\n\n“Carol,” I called and a woman appeared from the shadows. She had smooth mocha brown skin and hazel eyes that could entice even the most stringent human. She had always been the one to seduce our meals and up until now, I figured she just enjoyed it more than me.\n\n“Seth,” she hissed into my ear. Her tongue flicked onto my earlobe. Usually, that would be enough to flush my body in heat, but not today, because she appeared normal in the mirror. Hell, she looked even hotter.\n\n“Do you see this?” I asked, probing the glass with a finger.\n\nHer brow crunched. “Wow, I can see myself. This will make putting on makeup so much easier!”\n\n“Well, sure, but do you see the vampire next to you?”\n\nShe chuckled. “Of course, my little devil.” And she nibbled on my ear.\n\nI pushed her away. “Get off me. This is serious. Have I always looked like… you know…. this?”\n\nCarol pouted and sighed. “What of it Seth? I think you’re fine just the way you are.”\n\n“Fine?” I found it hard to keep my voice level. That was another story I was told—vampires were always cool and calm. Apparently, that was also a lie. “Fine!? I look like someone took an egg beater to Michael Moore’s face!”\n\nShe giggled at that one. I did not.\n\n“I’m serious!” I cried. “Is this why I’m never invited to the vampire orgies?”\n\nAll she could do was shrug as she kept trying to stifle laughter. “Seth,” she said in between laughs. “We’ve been together for nearly a decade. So what if you look like this?”\n\n“So what? You’re like a Greek statue and I’m the shit some dog took at its feet! Wait a second, why is it that you found me ten years ago. I remember I was starving and you stumbled into me with a college fratboy to share.”\n\nCarol looked away, her smile gone. Suddenly, it dawned on me.\n\n“That wasn’t by accident,” I said.\n\nShe nibbled on her lip. “The other vampires thought you’d starve to death and I kinda drew the short stick.”\n\n“Damn it!”\n\n“But Seth, there’s more to being a vampire than being sexy. You’re as much of a vampire as anyone.”\n\n“Oh yeah? Is that what they say in all those vampire orgies?”\n\nCarol groaned and grabbed her head. “I haven’t *been* to one in almost a decade.”\n\n“Oh, sorry I’m holding you back. Don’t stop on my account!”\n\n“God damn it, Seth. Can we just drop this? Get rid of that mirror and just pretend this never happened. I have a nice middle-aged vegan in our bedroom. I was hoping to surprise you”—she paused a breath—“It’s our anniversary after all,” she squeaked.\n\n“Yeah? Why do you think I bought this mirror. I wanted you to see how pretty you were, I just didn’t realize that it’d show how—”\n\nCarol lunged on top of me faster than I did our first fratboy together back when I was starving. A smile stretched across her face. “Seth,” she said, “that’s so sweet.”\n\n“Well I mean, you always talked about how hard it was to put on makeup and I never thought you really knew just how beautiful you were…”\n\nCarol pressed her lips into mine and my words cut. I closed my eyes and pulled her into me.\n\n“God I love you,” she whispered.\n\nSure, I could’ve been the ugliest thing to ever live, but god damn did I feel sexy.\n\n---\n\n---\n\n/r/jraywang for 5+ stories a week and 100+ stories already written!\n\n---\n\nBig ups to /u/koulnis! Here's [A Reading of this Story!](https://soundcloud.com/koulnis/vampire-story-read)\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You’re a college professor, and grades for the semester were just posted. One disgruntled failing student comes to you with an archaic copy of the school’s bylaws-and a pair of weapons. They’re invoking a rule from the university’s founding allowing them to pass through trial by combat." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "“That can’t possibly be right.”\n\n“It is,” Charlie states, lips drawn into a thin grimace. His eyes are cold. Colder than I’ve ever seen - colder than I’d ever expect from this failing, constantly-distracted young man. “I need this course, to stay enrolled, Mr. Hargreave. I’ve got no other options.” He extends a sword to me, hilt first.\n\n“You can’t just come in with a set of rules from six hundred years ago and expect to pass. Or expect me to actually fight you. I’m sixty years old, and I’ve never touched a weapon in my life.” Technically, those are lies, but he doesn’t need to know that.\n\n“The rules are the rules, Mr. Hargreave. You’ve always said that to me, haven’t you? If you turn me down, I win by default.”\n\nHe waits in the hallway while I pull a dusty tome from the top shelf - I check. He’s right. You’d think that would have been amended by now. Well.\n\n“Fine,” I say. Chances are, he’s never held a weapon before. And it’s been a while since I’ve had this much excitement.\n\nSee, I know the rule he’s talking about well, even if I hadn’t expected it to still be in existence. I was there when it was written.\n\nI’ve changed my face and changed my identity over the years, but I keep coming back to this university - the place where I first gained my power, the place where I turned from a young man into something… more. It’s dear to me. And its traditions, too, are dear to me. Some part of me respects the young man for going this far.\n\n“The courtyard,” I say. “There’s a special place for duels of this kind.”\n\nHe follows me out of the building, and I take one of the swords. The balance is perfect, and the grip is familiar. Memories from centuries past flood my mind, from that age before I was a professor and an academic. From the age when I was an explorer. \n\nWe take our positions at opposite ends of the square, to a growing crowd and no small amount of murmuring from bored university students. \n\n“Begin,” I say, eyeing my student’s slouching posture, his unfamiliar grip on the sword.\n\nAnd he changes. Not physically, of course - not like I can - but his posture changes. His grip changes. His feet settle into a firm, steady position that will allow him stability and movement. He lunges at me, and it’s all I can do to parry.\n\nThe world becomes a blur, the students around us become nothing in my mind’s eye. We dance around the square, blades flickering like tongues of silver flame.\n\nParry. Parry. Riposte. Thrust. Dodge. \n\nHe’s good. He’s way better than he should be - he’s faster than the lazy, constantly tired persona he puts on in class would suggest. He could have had a scholarship to any top university based on fencing alone. \n\nAnd as he parries another thrust, I realize - he could have been a master swordsman back in the days of my youth.\n\nParry. Parry. I twist and disarm him with one swift movement, then thrust forward - my blade stops at his neck.\n\n“It’s to first blood, Professor,” he says.\n\nI nick him. A single droplet runs down my steel.\n\n“You lose,” I say, panting hard.\n\n“Worth it,” he says. “I wanted to see you in action,” he adds, lowering his voice. “I’ve… heard things.”\n\n“Oh?”\n\n“…I guess you could say I’m looking to become your student,” he says. “For real.”\n\nHe’s better than he has any right to be. He clearly knows more about my past than anyone else does, for some reason. And he reminds me… he reminds me of me. Centuries ago. “Yes,” I say, without having to think about it. \n\nHe nods, and collects the swords, moving to head off.\n\n“And Charles?” I say. He stops and turns.\n\n“Yes, Professor?”\n\n“Come by my office tomorrow afternoon. We’ll see what we can do about extra credit. Can’t have you failing out of the university, can we?”\n\nHe smiles.\n\n---\n\n*Like this story? Subscribe to /r/OneMillionWords for more.*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A man accosts you in the street, and he claims he is you from the future. “Whatever you do, DO NOT fall in love with that girl!” the man warns. Distracted by the crazy man, you turn the corner and bump into someone. Its the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. Your eyes meet and she smiles." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The old man's eyes were crazy and familiar. Jacob couldn't place why, exactly. He had stepped out the back door with a bag of garbage in hand and nearly smacked into the old man standing there.\n\nJacob staggered back. Behind him, the lights of the pizza place spilled into the dark alley. It was just enough to squint by.\n\nHe had never seen such a familiar-looking stranger. \n\n\"There you are,\"the old man said with breathless relief. \n\n\"Uh. This isn't the front door.\"Jacob fidgeted nervously with his Pizza Planet hat.\n\n\"I know it's not. I came here to find you.\"He darted a glance over his shoulder and stooped down when the faraway wail of sirens rose. A strange metal device glowed in his hand, but he shoved it in his pocket when he saw Jacob's stare lingering on it. \n\nJacob hesitated, the garbage suspended from his hand. He debated swinging it out like a weapon if worst came to worst. But the old man looked so tired and confused. So lost. \n\n\"Me?\"Jacob repeated.\n\n\"Jacob Keith Davis. You're twenty-three years old, and today you had to catch three buses to get to work because your car didn't start. I know exactly what day it is. We'll never forget it.\"\n\nThe garbage slipped heavy from Jacob's hand. It thunked onto the ground with the bodily clunk of Jacob's shock. \"What the fuck, dude? Are you stalking me?\"\n\n\"I'm not stalking you. I *am* you.\"\n\nJacob scoffed and picked up the garbage. He shouldered past the man to get to the dumpster and heaved the bag in.\n\n\"Look, there's a homeless shelter down on Fifth if you need help, man.\"\n\nThe old man hurried to follow Jacob, trying to catch his eyesight. Jacob dodged, eyes pinned to the ground, trying to pretend he couldn't see the old man's panic in his periphery.\n\n\"Please,\"he said, his voice twisting, \"I'm telling you, I came here to warn you. There's a girl--\"\n\n\"Not interested, old man.\"\n\nJacob turned to stomp back inside.\n\n\"She'll be in there as soon as you walk in. Whatever you do, don't fall in love with her.\"The old man reached for Jacob's hand and held it, fiercely. \"You'll only lose her. Please. You have no idea...\"\n\nHe cut off, too choked to speak. He had the look of a dropped vase, patched together one too many times. Now the glue was slipping.\n\nJacob shook the old man off. He took one last look into the man's haunting blue eyes and snapped, \"Have you ever taken a hint? Jesus.\"\n\nAnd then he stormed inside, taking the light with him.\n\nJacob walked in scowling. He slammed a pizza tray down on the prep counter and leaned over it, fighting the urge to growl. Of all the nights to have some crazy tweaker in the alley. He was alone in the shop while that night's driver was out running delivery.\n\nA voice behind him made Jacob whirl, his ears reddening.\n\n\"Sorry,\"she said, uncertainly, \"I'm just here to get my pizza.\"\n\nBut Jacob's thoughts scattered like a dropped bag of marbles. He stared and stared at the woman before him. His face cracked in a slow, dopey smile.\n\nThe heat was instant, like a geyser. A hot rush of steam clouding his judgment. Clouding everything. She had the most brilliant hair: an electric shock of orange. Her eyes just as bright and gleaming.\n\nJacob said, \"Melody, right?\"\n\n\"You must be a mind-reader.\"\n\n\"Box-reader, really.\"Jacob picked up the only pizza box sitting on the warming shelf. He set it on the counter, half a dozen lame pickup lines zinging around his skull. He finally settled on, \"Although I am getting a faint premonition. I think you and me might make good friends.\"\n\nHer smile matched his now. God, her eyes shone like hope. \"Does it cost extra for fortune telling?\"\n\n\"Just your phone number. Standard rate.\"\n\nMelody laughed, and it was the loveliest sound in the world. It was the sound of lying together in the dark, watching the world change to winter. It was the sound of a future being born. \n\nIf Jacob knew what the old man knew, he would have seen his fate rolled out before him like a scroll. Twenty-four years of marriage, and it will always end. An errant cell that starts in her stomach lining will reproduce wrong, over and over, and tear her apart from the inside out.\n\nAll that beautiful hair will slough out in his fingers. He will hold her while she vomits and goes hollow as an old bone. He will hold her and hold her even when she can't hold him back anymore. Long after her heart goes still. \n\nShe will scream and cry. Her very nerve endings will betray her. Her mind he loves so much will degrade and die, cell by cell. All her lights flickering off. She will tell him things he will never forget, when her disease is at its worst. She will warp and decay and he will fall apart with her, until he can't recognize himself anymore. Until his life is the shape of a dead tree, hollowed out for an owl who flew into the dark and never returned home. \n\nAnd he can do nothing but watch. \n\nWhen she is gone, he will spend years alone and only growing lonelier. Tinkering with time. Trying to reverse-engineer his way out of despair. \n\nBut Jacob will not realize until he is a much older man, until the pain of it is cool enough to touch. Until he can look back on the night he stepped back in time and tried to convince his younger self that it was better to have never loved at all.\n\nAnd when that future finally comes, Jacob will look around at Melody, smiling at him from every picture frame on every wall and mantle. Her ghost kept alive in the candle flame of his memory.\n\nAnd he will be so damn grateful he ignored himself.\n\n***\n\n/r/nickofstatic for serials with my best friend NickofNight :)" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You have the ability to reverse time by 6 hours whenever you're about to die. You're currently on a 10 hour flight on a plane that's about to crash." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I was back in my seat, around six hours before the accident, watching the in-flight entertainment, and wondering how something like a plane crash could become so boring so quickly.\n\nThe plane loses an engine, all the warning lights start to go off, the plane tilts down, a smell of smoke, and I'm back here. Every time.\n\nThis is at least the ninth time I've looped, and after going through most of the good in-flight movies, I was down to the slim pickings when I had an idea.\n\nI go back whenever I'm about to die...right?\n\nThe knife from the airline food packet would have to do. Most of the passengers were asleep at this point, so nobody noticed as I plunged the plastic blade into my chest.\n\n---\n\nSix hours ago. In the terminal. Waiting. \n\nIt worked. **It worked**.\n\nMy head was spinning with possibilities, and I still had the knife. There was only one option.\n\nStab.\n\n---\n\nSix hour ago. In bed, asleep before the Five AM flight.\n\nStab.\n\n–-\n\nSix hours ago. Getting ready for bed, brushing teeth.\n\nStab.\n\n---\n\nSix hours ago. I was watching TV.\n\nStab.\n\nSix hours ago.\n\nStab. \n\nSix hours ago.\n\nStab. Stab. Stab Stab Stab Stab...\n\n---\n\nIt's at least 2010.\n\nI think I've de-aged, but my memories are intact. I've still got the knife. I don't know what to do.\n\nI can predict the future. A real life psychic. I can mold my life to be the best one possible. Killing people just to see what happens, then going back and doing it again. Stock markets, speculation, investments, unexplored possibilities revisited, old loves rekindled-\n\nBut that was for later. For now, I had only one question. How far back could I go?\n\nI readied the plastic knife, and started all over again.\n\nStab. Stab. Stab." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "After you die, you're handed a book about your life. You open it, expecting a novel. Instead you get a \"Choose your own adventure\"book with all of the decisions you ever made, and every outcome they could have had." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I had spent several chapters already reading without seeing a choice. The book was long, but only like, lord of the rings long, I had gotten pretty far at this point.*Maybe the title is a lie. No. Angel's don't lie. Do they? Maybe they aren't angels. Maybe you're in hell.*\n\nI stopped reading on the last thought. With considerable effort I pushed it away and kept reading the incredibly boring story of my infancy. Blah blah blah I ate mashed peas. Blah blah I hated them. Another spoonful is coming.\n\nAnd thats when I saw it.\n\n*You chose to close your mouth and turn away. To follow that path, go to Library Seraph, Wing Delta, Row 82, Shelf 7, Book 22, Page 83.*\n\n*To knock the food out of your mother's hand, go to Library Saint, Wing Alpha-Omega, Row 2, Shelf 1, Book 30, Page 872*\n\n*To accept the food, go to Library Heart, Wing Epsilon, Row 110, Shelf 3, Book 4, Page 220*\n\nYeah, I was going to be here a while.\n\nEdit: Formatting." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Suffering is a form of currency in Hell. The more you suffer in life the richer you are in the afterlife. You, a normal person arriving in hell find out that you're one of the richest person in Hell and worth more then Satan." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So, *Hell*. I never used to give too much thought to the afterlife, but I always thought I was a decent person. I was faithful to my wife, friendly to my neighbors, a volunteer at the soup kitchen on weekends. I didn’t commit any crimes (beyond the occasional speeding ticket) or cheat on my taxes. I smiled a lot, and I went to church occasionally.\n\n“It’s not really your fault, sir,” my orientation imp, Ashrax, consoled me. “Himself Above is just crazy about that ‘no-shellfish’ thing. Used to be, like, three books of the Bible, but one of your popes cut it for brevity, and I guess people stopped paying attention to it.” The imp wrinkled its nose. “I’d say about four-fifths of the people here are in for shellfish. Always seemed kind of excessive to me. I wonder if Himself is allergic.”\n\nWe were walking down Brimstone Ave., Hell’s main drag. Once you got past the wailing, the over-use of fire as a thematic element, and the constant smell of sulfur (“millennia of farts trapped down here,” Ashrax said with a wink), Hell was… surprisingly normal. Earlier, when I had expressed surprise that the check-in demons used iPads, Ashrax just shrugged. “Steve Jobs parked in a lot of handicapped spaces, sir.”\n\nUp ahead, I saw a dark, Gothic mansion perched on a black volcanic hill, overlooking a classical lake of fire. Admiring the wrought iron gates depicting the murder of nonbelievers, I asked Ashrax who lived there. “Used to be Satan, of course. Great parties here. Once a month the damned would get together and roast one of the gluttonous on a spit, which is great because unfortunately the food here is pretty bad, sir.” Seeing my face, the imp hurried on. “Umm. Right. Sorry. I forgot you’re new. Anyway, he lost his house when the suffering bubble dried up after the financial crisis, so as of today, Satan’s being kicked out.”\n\n“Satan was *kicked out*? By who, God?”\n\n“No, sir.” Ashrax smiled impishly. “By you.” \n\n* * * * *\n\nThat night – or what passed for night in a dark, timeless cavern – Ashrax arranged a Life Viewing in my private theater to explain things. A few of the house demons I had met attended as well. There was the butler, Snooj, a prim satyr; Corthrax, my imp driver (no relation, Ashrax assured me); and the pool boy, Gorfu, a 12-foot golem comprised of molten magma.\n\n“I still feel like there must have been some kind of mistake,” I said for at least the fourth time. “I was pretty happy in life.”\n\n“Of course you were, sir.” Snooj clapped me on the back. “Of course you were.” He signaled to Gorfu, who used his huge fist to start the projector and, inadvertently, several fires. \n\nI watched, dumbstruck, as a seemingly alternate version of my life played out before me. I saw myself as a baby, playing in the crib just like in our home movies… while my parents, drunk and belligerent, screamed at each other. “Let’s move on,” I said quickly, as my mom broke a beer bottle on my crib and lunged for my dad’s throat. \n\nI always wondered where that scar on dad’s neck came from.\n\nI saw myself, age five, playing with chemicals I found in the garage. I watched, powerless, as five year old me drank a tall glass of… something. “Antifreeze, sir,” Snooj said, clicking his hoofs together sympathetically. “That’s why you were bad at math.”\n\nI saw an endless string of humiliating rejections and failures as an adolescent. Girls avoiding me, friends making faces at me behind my back, my little league baseball team telling me the wrong time for the start of the playoff game. A lot of Fs in math. It all culminated in Michelle Adams’s dumping me at a Valentine’s Day dance for – in her words – “literally anybody else in the world.” \n\nThen she punched me in the stomach and stole my wallet. I had forgotten about that part.\n\nThrough it all, the version of myself I saw on the screen was amazingly resilient. *Or maybe just oblivious*, I amended, watching myself walk down the street reading a book as my sister shot at me – and missed – with a high-powered rifle. “You’ll never collect the insurance money that way,” my dad said, but his aim wasn’t any better. \n\nOn-screen, I whistled as I went along my way.\n\nThe hits just kept coming. There were gasps as my soon-to-be-wife showed up late to the ceremony because she had to fix her hair - after banging the groomsmen in the back room. *All of them*. Feeling a lump in my throat, I stepped outside to take a break. Gorfu was blubbering, great huge tears of fire that burned holes in the floor, while Ashrax and Corthrax gleefully took bets on what, or who, would eventually kill me.\n\nApparently, there was nobody in my life who had actually liked me for me. I counted twelve con artists (each successful), eleven attempts on my life for insurance money, and fifty-one viral Youtube videos in which I was, in some way, “the mark.” At best, people had pitied me.\n\nOutside on the veranda, I took a deep breath and looked out over the artfully arranged corpses in the Fields of the Damned. “Sorry you had to see that, sir,” Ashrax said. “Looks like you really suffered.” I nodded, numbly. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but I had indeed suffered.\n\n“You know, sir…” Ashrax hesitated, then plunged ahead, “it’s possible for someone with enough resources Below to have some influence back there. In the first world. Nothing so great as here, of course,” he gestured out over the field of corpses, “but you can send bad luck, pestilence, that sort of thing.”\n\nA new feeling was starting to arise within me, filling the empty void. “I can do that with my suffering?” I asked, looking out over the lake of fire.\n\nAshrax nodded. “You have about as much as we’ve ever seen.” Quietly, he added, “Gorfu in there would probably help for free.”\n\nI looked inside and saw my final moments reflected on the projector screen, my hands and ankles tied as my house burned down around me, my wife and children toasting my death outside. I saw their fancy new house, their new husband, their new father.\n\nI turned back to Ashrax, my eyes now dancing with a fire entirely of their own. I smiled, a cold, dark smile. “Tell me more.”\n\nEdit: I wrote a [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4wh8c7/wp_suffering_is_a_form_of_currency_in_hell_the/d67kxyx) and [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4wh8c7/wp_suffering_is_a_form_of_currency_in_hell_the/d67l0s4). Sorry all, no current plans for Part 4." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Every sentient species in the universe receives a Jesus figure from God. It turns out humanity was the only species to torture and crucify him. You're an ambassador priest informing the Inter-Galactic Holy Church what your species did." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Okay... Run-\"The High Galactic Pontiff pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a scaly talon. \"Run it by me one more time...\"\n\n\"Well sir- or rather Your Holiness-, the Messiah you sent to us did a really good job.\"I shifted uncomfortable in my seat and readjusted my Clerical Collar. \"He founded the biggest religion our world has ever known. Really gave a good message of the whole 'loving thy neighbor' thing. He's pretty much accepted as the best human we ever had.\"\n\nThe Pontiff bluntly interjected at this, \"So you killed him.\"\n\nThe silence was complimented by the hum of the Temple Ship's engines.\n\n\"Is it customary to kill those among you whom are seen as great?\"\n\nStill the only noise was the ship engines.\n\n\"Well... The Messiah was... Ahead of his time...\"I replied sheepishly. The Pontiff's face was a mess of scales and bird-like features, but I could clearly see the consternation of trying to understand just how badly we had messed up. Suddenly, through the almost tangible awkwardness, an idea struck me.\n\n\"Well your holiness, we honor his death! We realized what we had done was wrong, so we tried to atone for it!\"I held up the crucifix that was hanging around my neck for him to see. \"We memorialized his death, and we recognize what a sacrifice he gave for us! These things are everywhere!\"\n\nThe Pontiff looked at the small wooden crucifix, then back up to me. He laced his talons and held them in front of his mouth, with scaly elbows still resting on the desk, almost looking like he was praying.\n\n\"So you killed him... And then created little statues of you killing him... and spread them all over your world.\"\n\nThe little crucifix in my hand suddenly felt about fifty pounds heavier. I slowly tucked it into my shirt. Out of sight.\n\n\"Did his death at least unite the world behind him for the good of the Lord?\"\n\n\"Yes!\"I immediately replied. \"Well, sort of. Not right away. His followers kept getting killed, and along the way, some other sects and pseudo-christian religions popped up...\"I trailed off. \"But eventually ours became the biggest one!\"\n\n\"Do the differing religions at least coexist peacefully?\"He asked, maintaining his disgruntled posture.\n\nCold sweat started trickling down my face.\n\nThe Pontiff closed his eyes for a long moment, and inhaled deeply. Once he opened, them, he was about business.\n\n\"Alright, here's what we'll do.\"The Pontiff said, pulling out some official stationary and dipping one of his talons in ink to begin writing. \"Your people have messed up. **BADLY**. But the Lord is merciful. We will send you another Messiah. This will not be the *second coming* of the first, but a different one, to reunite your people behind him.\"\n\n\"Excellent idea your holiness!\"I exclaimed. \"It's just recently, we've had to deal a lot with people saying that they're 'The Messiah', so you're going to need to put him somewhere that he can get his message across!\"\n\nThe Pontiff stopped writing and looked at me.\n\n\"You'll probably need to put him in one of the more developed nations, because if he's in one of the poorer ones, he might not make it to an age where he can send out his message. Also, you should probably look into making sure that he's got pretty well off parents. If not, he'll never get the same chances in life as the alternative...\"I trailed off again. The consternation had come back to the Pontiff's face.\n\n\"And he probably shouldn't be a woman...\"I quietly finished.\n\nThe Pontiff again pulled off his glasses and set them down lightly.\n\n\"Jesus Christ\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Every starfaring species has discovered a different form of FTL travel. Kantian gates, Salec skip drives, Maltiun wave-riders, Delfanit pulse tubes ... Humanity's solution was regarded as \"Unorthodox\", \"Unsafe\", and \"Damn Stupid\"by the rest of the galaxy." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "FADE IN:\n\nINT. HALL OF THE GALACTIC COUNCIL - MAIN CHAMBER - DAY\n\n*Beings from hundreds of different species are gathered in an enormous, amphitheater-like space, each of them looking down at a pedestal near the center. A tall, slender humanoid with long limbs and flowing white hair stands there. This is SSAH, a diplomat. When she speaks, her voice is amplified to be audible throughout the auditorium.*\n\n**SSAH:** Esteemed peers, our session will come to order.\n\n*A murmuring of voices - combined with dozens of other sounds - drifts through the air.*\n\n**SSAH:** (*CONT'D*) There is little need to introduce today's primary focus, as I am certain that you have all become aware of it via one channel or another. For this reason, I will simply call our first speaker.\n\n*SsAh steps away from the dais. Her spot is soon taken by a squat, toad-like creature. This is FIMNIMN.*\n\n**FIMNIMN:** (*Shouting*) Humans!\n\n*No response seems to be forthcoming from the crowd.*\n\n**SSAH:** Please continue. \n**FIMNIMN:** (*Shouting*) Humans! \n**SSAH:** Yes, they are the species in question. Please continue.\n\n*Fimnimn turns a bulbous eye to SsAh, his face showing a fair approximation of annoyance. After a moment, he looks back at the assembled beings.*\n\n**FIMNIMN:** Humans... \n**SSAH:** (*Interrupting*) Please say something else. \n**FIMNIMN:** I was about to. \n**SSAH:** My apologies. \n\n*The squat creature raises his arms above his head.*\n\n**FIMNIMN:** (*Shouting*) Humans!\n\n*Several seconds of silence pass. SsAh rubs her forehead in evident exasperation. Eventually, Fimnimn lowers his arms.*\n\n**FIMNIMN:** (*CONT'D*) Well. They've gone and done it, haven't they? Broke the damned thing, they did. \n**SSAH:** We are not here to discuss their ill-advised experiments with their own moon. \n**FIMNIMN:** Their moon was a *victim!* We'll *all* be victims if they keep this up!\n\n*From within the crowd, a lone voice becomes audible. This is DAVE, a human ambassador.*\n\n**DAVE:** Look, we said we were sorry!\n\n*As all of the other council members turn to watch, Dave stumbles down to the center of the amphitheater.*\n\n**FIMNIMN:** An apology won't keep us safe! An apology won't protect us from your... your... idiocy! \n**SSAH:** This is the concern voiced by many of our number, Ambassador Dave.\n\n*Dave reaches the center dais and turns to address the crowd.*\n\n**DAVE:** Look, the universe is a big place, alright? We just wanted to get around. \n**FIMNIMN:** So you built a weapon?! \n**DAVE:** It's not a weapon! It's a means of moving faster than light! \n\n*With a small gesture from Dave, a glowing display appears in the air, showing the Sol System.*\n\n**DAVE:** (*CONT'D*) See, Earth is... \n**FIMNIMN:** (*Interrupting*) Be specific. \n**DAVE:** ... What? \n**FIMNIMN:** Do you have any idea how many species call their planet \"Earth?\"Call yours by its *real* name.\n\n*Dave closes his eyes, sighs, and continues speaking.*\n\n**DAVE:** As you can see from the diagram, Happy-Happy-Sunshine-Sparkle-Ball is located... \n**SSAH:** (*Interrupting*) I'm sorry, Ambassador, but is that truly your planet's galactic designation? \n**DAVE:** Unfortunately. \n**SSAH:** ... Why? \n**DAVE:** We had a contest.\n\n*Murmurs of understanding become audible.*\n\n**DAVE:** (*CONT'D*) Anyway, we're one of the most remote planets in the galaxy. Our closest neighbor is over four lightyears away. \n**FIMNIMN:** That's quite standard. \n**DAVE:** Yes, well, according to our physicists, we needed a means of traveling far, far faster than relativity would allow if we were to make realistic strides toward visiting other worlds.\n\n*The display shifts and shows a technical schematic for what appears to be an engine of some kind. It vaguely resembles a doughnut, albeit one with a series of ridges and valleys along its visible side.*\n\n**DAVE:** (*CONT'D*) This led to the development of what we called the That Walkway In Airports Drive. In essence, we would... \n**SSAH:** (*Interrupting*) Sorry, I believe we're experiencing a problem with our translator system. \n**DAVE:** No, it's working fine. \n**SSAH:** Ah. Another contest? \n**DAVE:** No, just an inventor who liked analogies. \n**SSAH:** That seems to be a universal problem. Please continue.\n\n*Dave clears his throat.*\n\n**DAVE:** Anyway, the TWIAD allowed us to create a bubble of space that moved at several times the speed of light, while the vessel contained within it would move at relatively slower velocities. \n**FIMNIMN:** A fine system. \n**DAVE:** Thank you. \n**FIMNIMN:** Tell everyone what you started using instead.\n\n*Once again, Dave clears his throat.*\n\n**DAVE:** It was an accident, really. We discovered that the bubble in question could be... well, squeezed, I suppose... in a way that allowed it to traverse greater distances. Naturally, we worked to test the limits. \n**FIMNIMN:** (*Shouting*) Humans! \n**SSAH:** Stop it. \n**DAVE:** Thank you. \n**SSAH:** (*To Dave*) And you, get to the point. \n**DAVE:** Well... it popped.\n\n*A sound not unlike a collective gasp of shock echoes through the expansive room.*\n\n**DAVE:** (*CONT'D*) All of a sudden, our ship was a quarter of the way across the galaxy. Our tests concluded that by rupturing the bubble, we'd released a buildup of some kind, which we hadn't even realized was there. \n**FIMNIMN:** You blew past dozens of inhabited systems! \n**DAVE:** We didn't know the effects it would have!\n\n*Dave's face adopts a look of genuine remorse.*\n\n**DAVE:** (*CONT'D*) We didn't know, I swear. We thought... we thought that intentionally rupturing our TWIAD bubble just propelled us along. We hadn't yet discovered spatial-temporal plasma, you see, and we didn't know we were leaving anything in our wake.\n\n*He hangs his head in apparent shame.*\n\n**DAVE:** (*CONT'D*) We thought our Fissure-Assisted Rapid Transit System would bring our people to the stars. \n**FIMNIMN:** It did... and you brought that damned miasma with you! \n**DAVE:** We know that now. As you said, we inadvertently blasted our own moon to smithereens.\n\n*Dave holds up a hand.*\n\n**DAVE:** (*CONT'D*) We swear to you, though... *I* swear to you... that humanity will no longer use our FARTS to travel. \n\n*Somber, tense silence fills the space.*\n\n**SSAH:** Let's take a brief recess for lunch. As is customary, the chef's team has prepared a meal from... Happy-Happy-Sunshine-Sparkle-Ball. I believe it is called \"Baked Beans.\"\n\nFADE OUT." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A super hero fights evil by wiping memories of both the villian and everyone who knew of them so that they can be reintroduced into society safely. Today, as you were combing through old newspapers, you discover that you were once the world's most powerful supervillain." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Maria fumbled for the keys in her bag, eventually finding the heart shaped keyring her husband had given to her long ago. How long exactly, she couldn't quite remember.\n\nThe lock clicked. A monotonous buzzing greeted her, as if a giant hornet had taken up residence in their home since she'd left for work. \"Honey?\"she called out. \"Are you okay?\"\n\nNo reply.\n\nShe stepped into the lounge and was met by an unpleasent, smoky smell. The buzzing had intensified too. It was a sound she now recognised, but hadn't heard for a long, long time. \n\nAn electric razor.\n\nMaria frowned, a little annoyed that Peter was likely removing his thick, flowing beard. There was something she loved dearly about it -- the white hairs that shot through the blond reminded her of sunlight bouncing gleefully off an icy waterfall. It suited a physicist. It suited *him*.\n\n*buzzzz*\n\nThe living room table was a mess of cigarettes and empty beer bottles -- Peter had clearly enjoyed his day off. A folded page of a newspaper wafted up and down in the gentle breeze from an open window.\n\n*buzzz*\n\nMaria moved idly to the table, picking up first the cigarette remains, then dropping them on the carpet as the face in the paper stared up at her, her husband's keen eyes meeting her own. His face was clean shaven, and his wrinkles softened -- but there was no mistaking him.\n\nHer hands shook as she picked it up and read.\n\n> Master Particle. Prior to Reworking's alterations. Considered the greatest physicist of his generation. But another talent wasted by the great 'hero'. This paper says Reworking is not the answer! We're the only paper brave enough to print a picture like this and...\n\nShe stopped reading. Something was wrong: there was no sound.\n\n \"Welcome home, *Maria*.\"\n\n Maria gulped as she turned to see the man in the paper standing behind her. \n\n\"Sweetheart...\"\n\n \"Is it really Maria? No, of course it isn't. It doesn't matter now though.\"\n\n \"I didn't ...\"\n\n \"I was great, you know. The greatest, they say. I could have changed the world. Now I teach school children basic astrophysics. The order of the planets -- and they can't even get that right without a pathetic mnemonic to aid them. My life -- or at least many years of it -- has been wasted. Can you imagine if they'd lobotomised a young Eistein? Where would we be?\"\n\nHe slowly removed a knife from his jacket pocket.\n\n \"*Please.*\"\n\n \"How long until you were done spying on me, *darling*? Until you left me! I loved you *so* much. In my mind, you loved me, too. But only in my mind! It's all a Goddamned lie! You'll pay for that deceit, I promise you.\"\n\n \"Please, Peter. In my mind, I love you too. *I do!* I don't know what's happened. I don't understand any of this.\"\n\nHe grinned as he stalked forward. \"Oh, *you know*. You're here to watch over me. To report back to them each day, when I think you're working, so you can all laugh at me. *Mock me.* The great, *impotent*, Master Particle.\"\n\n *\"I always loved y...\"*\n\nThe knife was sharp and cut her throat cleanly and easily. She didn't scream as her blood spattered the carpet. \n\nMaria's body fell next to the fallen cigarette remains. \n\n\n---\n\nIt was an hour later, as Peter drank greedily from a clear bottle, his boots resting on his dead wife's carcass, that a gust from the open window turned the newspaper's page.\n\nPeter leaned forward, his eyes wide. He snatched the paper up. He read silently twice over, then mumbled a litany of *no's*. Finally, he swore bloody revenge on the world itself. \n\nHe looked down at his wife through bleary eyes, scalding tears spilling down his cheeks. How could this have happened? His life had been perfect -- *twice!* Now he could never go back... *could he*?\n\nHe knelt over Maria and gently pressed his trembling lips against her forehead.\n\nPeter could feel his mind buzzing; could see the sparks leaping from his hands. He felt in tune with the universe's tempestuous vibrations, and he knew in that moment, exactly what he was capable of:\n\n*The end of everything.*\n\nPeter got to his feet and looked at the paper a final time.\n\n> At least they had the decency to erase his wife's -- his assistant Scarlett (pictured above) -- mind, and to keep them together in their new lives. But this paper, this reporter, says it's not enough! It's time to end Reworking.\n\n\n\n---\n\nPart two: https://www.reddit.com/r/nickofnight/comments/7n3dix/master_particle_part_two/\n\n" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You are reincarnated 10,000 years into the future. You come across an ancient artifact on display in the Museum of History, where you work. Little is known about it, not even where it was uncovered. Upon touching it, you realize it was yours." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Kind of a lame addition to the Museum of the Millennium, eh, James?\"\n\nJames shrugged, going back to mopping the floors. \"Yeah, guess so.\"\n\n\"You didn't even look at it!\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, Aaron. Just give me a minute.\"*Don't even know why they make me wipe these stupid floors. Cheapskates can't even afford some basic cleaning droids.* James lazily drug his mop across the shining marble floor, the harsh chemicals rendering any germs utterly obliterated, but leaving his work boots unscathed. *Long as I don't trip, there's nothing to be worried about. Why is Aaron so scared of this stuff?*\n\nJames sighed as he leaned the mop against the wall, having finished the section he was working on. Course, he wasn't *done,* but that could wait for after Aaron was done with his bellyaching about whatever new artifact was added.\n\n\"Come on, man,\"James said as he walked over to the glass case where the artifact was held. \"New stuff gets donated all the time. Why you so interested in this?\"\n\nHe glanced into the cage, raising an eyebrow. The artifact in question was...oddly shaped. Some kind of ring was in the center of it, with odd metallic objects dangling from the sides. They were all grooved, with some being larger than others, and though they bore the wear and tear of age, they still bore faded logos of companies long since-\n\n\"Should we touch it?\"\n\n\"What? No!\"James backed away slightly. \"I want to *keep* my job, man. Everyone knows you're not supposed to-\"\n\n\"-Not supposed to touch the artifacts, yadda yadda, I get it!\"\n\n*You most certainly don't care, do you?* \n\n\"All I'm saying is, this is the first on we don't recognize since that old...what was it? Threevee?\"\n\n\"Teevee, I think.\"James sighs. Aaron would most certainly continue pestering him - since he was the head janitor, James had the only master key out of the night staff. \n\n\"Pleeeease?\"\n\nMost would consider Aaron's puppy-dog face adorable. \n\nJames found it highly annoying.\n\n\"Fine. Just give me a minute.\"James unlocked the case quickly, getting in between it and Aaron before the latter could grab it. If this was something dangerous, he didn't want it in that idiot's hands.\n\nAs he unlocked it, a finger brushed against the metallic grooves, and James reeled back in shock. Hundreds of memories flew into him all at once, memories of a life long past - but one stood above the rest.\n\n*\"Of course it would take 10,000 damn years to find my car keys.\"*\n\n\n\n\nEdit: Didn't expect my story about losing car keys to earn me my first gold. Thank you so much!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A genius serial killer who has been killing successfully for a decade. With one weakness. He can never ever lie. He's finally gets caught and is facing trial for a murder in court. Yet, he walks, acquitted of all charges." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"John Harrison, we gather here today because you have been accused of committing eighteen counts of murder. With so many accusations, this trial will determine whether or not you are to be taken out to the guillotine.\"Judge Matthew Roberts overlooked a packed, sun-kissed court hall, filled with whispering friends and family of the deceased. Armed guards shifted slightly, eyeing the suspect, making sure to keep a hand on their swords at all times.\n\nAlone, chained to a wooden post in the hall's center, sat the accused in ragged robes. \"May I have a word, before this all begins?\"\n\n\"You will be allowed to defend yourself during the trial.\"\n\n\"A word *alone*.\"\n\nRoberts cocked his head. \"I beg your pardon?\"\n\n\"I'd like a word alone with you before the trial.\"\n\n\"Now, why would I agree to have a conversation alone with a man accused of murdering eighteen people? This is a court of law, son. Learn your place.\"\n\nHarrison looked up at the old man, the chains binding him rattling. \"*You speak like a green girl, unsifted in such perilous circumstances.*\"\n\nThe judge's eyes widened as he sat back, glancing to the guards. \"Court will be suspended, to resume in fifteen minutes.\"\n\nAn already rumbling crowd exploded, booing, jeering, at the judge's statements. He nodded to the guards, who moved to maintain and remove the crowd, smacking a few of the unruly ones up front. It took about five minutes to clear the room out, a thick silence settling over the two men. \n\n\"You think yourself a clever man, do you?\"Roberts asked, clearing his throat and shifting a tight collar. \n\n\"I take it you understand the situation.\"\n\n\"Empty threats.\"\n\n\"And yet you removed the crowd.\"\n\nJudge Roberts exhaled sharply, leaning forward. His fat fingers rapped against wood. \n\n\"You've heard the tales of me, correct?\"Harrison pressed. \"Surely you have.\"\n\n\"Stories are for nursing babes.\"\n\n\"Every man has one within him. As I was saying-- the rumors. You must know I cannot tell a lie, correct? A curse of mine.\"\n\n\"Curses don't exist.\"\n\nHarrison stretched his mouth wide, sticking a greyish-pink tongue out. Roberts had to lean in, but there was something black on the underside of it. A mark that pulsed, wriggling like little onyx snakes that had been condemned to a life of alien calligraphy. \n\n\"Stop gawking and ask a question, then, if you're curious.\"\n\n\"Did you kill those eighteen women?\"\n\nHarrison smiled, leaning forward. \"No. One of them killed herself, after I was done with her.\"\n\nRoberts flushed. \"I'll have your head taken clean off. Mark my words.\"\n\n\"Ah, let's not get hasty, now. I've proven my honesty, yes? Then that brings us to the original point.\"\n\nThe judge's breaths quickened, and his nostrils flared. \"You couldn't have.\"\n\n\"Now, now, Your Honor. Ask a question if you want the answer.\"\n\n\"I swear to God, if you laid a *finger* on my Ophelia-\"\n\n\"I didn't lay a finger on her,\"Harrison said, smiling again.\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"Somewhere only I will find her; it has no single name. It was not easy stealing her from Parallax without raising an alarm immediately, but, well- your men were closing in, and I perform best when cornered. Did you know she has a birthmark on her left thigh? Oh, silly question. Of course you would.\"\n\nRoberts paled. \"You're a filthy rat, Harrison, going after my girl. I'll make sure you pay with your life.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes, perhaps. But not today, if you want your lovely daughter back.\"\n\nThe wrinkled judge mopped at his brow with a handkerchief. \"So, what- I acquit you, and my sweet Ophelia will go unharmed?\"\n\n\"I can only speak the truth, your honor,\"Harrison replied. \"She'll be returned to you in one piece if you cooperate. Hopefully your reputation doesn't suffer too much. You do seem like quite the defender of justice.\"\n\nRoberts shook his head, jowls jiggling, and gulped down all concerns. He would have to trust Harrison, a man who'd spent his life learning to lie while telling the truth. \n\n*/r/resonatingfury*" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Suddenly the whole world hears a voice from the sky: Hi guys, God here. I'm being promoted to the Andromeda galaxy and I'm here to introduce my replacement, Bob this is earth, earth this is Bob. Have fun, pleasure to meet you all!!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their heads up to the sky. Had they heard correctly, God was leaving and left some man named Bob in charge? People in the cities looked out their windows, and stepped out of their cars looking upward for more answers. Meanwhile, in the Vatican, Pope Francis and his cardinals were discussing what implications this news might mean. Elsewhere still, the Grand Seer of the Church of the Apocalyptic Holy Trinity, looked upon his flock and reasoned, now would be a good as any time to bring out the Kool-aid.\n\nAs the people of the world waited for news from this Bob, many began to fear and question all of reality. As Joshua McCabe picked up a brick in rage, as Nikolai Kaparov was stepping off the ledge of his building in fear, and as Pablo Gutierrez reached for the bottle of booze that would drown him, a gentle caring voice boomed from the heavens.\n\n\"Hello I'm Bob Ross. I'm grateful to be welcomed into all your lives. This is a first for me, but I want to thank you all for allowing me the opportunity to be God's replacement. I never imagined this would happen, but there are no mistakes, just happy accidents.\"\n\nAnd thus the world was good, and calmed. The sky turned a brilliant shade of Phallo Blue with clouds of Titanium White." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "The Joker is getting the help he's needed for years. When he is finally free of his murderous thoughts, he asks if he might meet Batman and thank him for bringing him in. \"Who?\"the Arkham doctor asks." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That can't be,\"Jack whispered.\n\nThe doctor looked at him. Her expression was sympathetic. Empathetic. Jack was getting vaguely sick of seeing that expression on people's faces. He understood why, of course. But it didn't make things any better.\n\n\"Forced visual hallucinations aren't unheard of,\"the doctor murmured. \"And I guess you could have seen some kind of figure that… \"\n\nAs she spoke, the doctor spun her pen between her fingers. The ballpoint moved back and forth, the blue plastic contrasting with the red of her nail polish. Jack had noticed the nervous tic. It was one of Doc Quinzel's many tells.\n\nPerhaps it was wrong of him to expect a psychiatric professional to have better control over her own body language. She was a doctor, not a machine. Whatever the case, Quinzel was an expressive woman. It was easy for Jack to read her mood. He knew what she was thinking.\n\n\"Look,\"Jack tried again, leaning forward slightly in his chair. \"Sure, you think I'm crazy. Because, yeah, I was. Crazy. Totally cray-cray. But I'm not making this up, okay? Batman, you know? Superhero? *Nananana* Batman? Batman and Robin? Guy in a bat outfit with pointy ears? The Dark Knight? Protector of Gotham City? Am I ringing any bells here?\"\n\n\"Well,\"Quinzel said, carefully, \"there is a guy with a knight theme. Maybe you're thinking of [Azrael](https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Azrael)?\"\n\nJack made a face. Then he covered his face with one hand.\n\n\"No,\"Jack stated, flatly.\n\n\"I don't know what to tell you, Jack,\"Quinzel said, shrugging her shoulders. \"The local superheroes are the [Creeper](https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Creeper) and [Ragman](https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Ragman). I've never heard of this Batman, or anyone called Robin.\"\n\nJack sighed. \"No offence, doc, but unless you really follow the cape-and-tights set, is there maybe, just possibly, a chance that you haven't heard of Batman because… \"\n\nQuinzel bit her lip. She tapped her ballpoint pen against her notepad, the nib moving aimlessly across the paper. At least, it didn't seem to Jack like she was actually writing something.\n\nFinally, Quinzel spoke again. \"I'm accredited with the Justice League.\"\n\nJack blinked. \"What?\"\n\n\"The Justice League has a programme that… it's not important,\"Quinzel said. \"The point is that I did check the League's database. There isn't anyone on their public roster that fits your description.\"\n\nJack thought quickly, his mind going over what the doctor had said. \"Public roster. Key word, 'public'. The Bat doesn't exactly do high profile. What if… \"\n\nQuinzel closed her eyes for a second, her brow furrowing. \"That's possible, I suppose. But, Jack, there's nothing in your case file that talks about a… Batman. That is the kind of thing which is included in, ah, supervillain case documentation. They want us to know who to call in case of an emergency, if nothing else.\"\n\nJack inhaled, sharply. He held his breath, counted slowly in his head, then exhaled in a rush. There was no point in getting angry. He wouldn't gain anything from losing his temper. Doc Quinzel was trying to help. She wasn't his enemy.\n\nNo. The Batman was.\n\nExcept… if she was right, the Batman didn't exist.\n\n\"There was that time,\"Jack said, \"I took over damn near every radio in Gotham City. Had one hell of a transmitter, pumped a ton of power. Taunted the cops. Then Batman stopped me. Unless you're telling me that never happened, and I imagined the whole thing.\"\n\n\"That happened,\"Quinzel replied, reaching for the thick binder on her desk, before stopping herself, and letting her hand fall. \"I wasn't at Arkham then, but it was another, er, criminal that turned you over to the police. [Brute Nelson](https://modernmythologies.wordpress.com/2015/03/14/retro-review-batman-1-1940-the-joker-the-joker-returns/).\"\n\nJack frowned. \"Nelson? No, I… \"\n\n\"That's what I read,\"Quinzel said, almost apologetically.\n\nJack shook his head. \"Alright. Fine. Then there was the time I went to New York and tried to… \"\n\nHe winced. He didn't like dredging up the memories. But he also couldn't run away from everything he'd done.\n\nHe forced himself to finish the statement. \"Tried to [gas the entire UN General Assembly](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Batman:_A_Death_in_the_Family). Because I fancied myself a terrorist, or something. Then Batman and Superman arrived, and… \"\n\n\"Superman did,\"Quinzel interrupted, quietly. \"Just Superman.\"\n\nJack opened his mouth. But his protest died in his throat.\n\n\"The whole incident was televised,\"Quinzel continued. \"It was the UN building, and they were in session. Superman came in, and, well… \"\n\nJack clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms.\n\n\"The fish,\"he said, desperately.\n\nQuinzel's eyebrows went up. \"I'm sorry? Excuse me?\"\n\n\"The [Joker Fish](https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Detective_Comics_Vol_1_475),\"Jack clarified. He suppressed the urge to groan at his own insanity, and carried on. \"I injected fish with… mutated them to, er, look all… \"\n\nHe lifted a hand to his face, and mimed an exaggerated smile with two fingers.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\"Quinzel said. \"The fish incident, yes.\"\n\n\"Right,\"Jack muttered.\n\nHe wasn't really smiling, of course. No, the expression on his face was a scowl, by now.\n\n\"I guess,\"Jack said, \"you're gonna tell me that Batman didn't save the day? Batman didn't turn up to foil my evil seafood plot? Who was it, then? Aquaman?\"\n\nThis time, Quinzel did open her binder, leafing through the pages. It took her a few moments to find what she was looking for.\n\n\"The United States Fish and Wildlife Service,\"Quinzel said.\n\nJack's frown deepened. \"Wait, seriously?\"\n\n\"That's what it says here,\"Quinzel replied.\n\nJack sighed.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nPart 2: [https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/e6ekwh/eu\\_the\\_joker\\_is\\_getting\\_the\\_help\\_hes\\_needed\\_for/f9ptnaa/](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/e6ekwh/eu_the_joker_is_getting_the_help_hes_needed_for/f9ptnaa/)\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n**UPDATE:** Since a lot of people were asking me to continue it somewhere that's easier to track, I've set up a subreddit - r/Acylion \\- where I'll be posting new parts.\n\nThe story will also be available on [Archive of Our Own](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21716713/chapters/51801295), [SpaceBattles](https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/but-doctor-i-am-pagliacci-dc-joker-au.808805/), and [Sufficient Velocity](https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/but-doctor-i-am-pagliacci-dc-joker-au.59162/)." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You’re a hitman who’s “hits” survive your assassination attempts, despite your sincere best efforts, only to die soon after each attempt by comical forces outside your control. The hitman community can’t be convinced you’re not the most creative comically effective assassin alive." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hit's at your 10 o'clock. They're pretty far away, it's safe to look,\"the earpiece squeaked out.\n\n27 peeked out of the corner of his eye at the target. The man looked like a fluffed-up peacock, in a white coat brighter than fresh snow. He laughed haughtily at the jokes from his company. 27 quietly groaned with disgust.\n\nThe hit had been ordered just three days ago by an anonymous contact. The money offered was, of course, completely exorbitant, thanks to the preposterous title 27 had earned himself in hitman circles the world over. Most of the nicknames were rather unoriginal, such as \"The Angel of Death\", or \"Mortis Incarnate\", although the nickname that truly described 27 would have been \"Grim Coincidence\".\n\nIn truth, 27 was a terrible shot. No matter how hard he tried, he could never hit the target. Even on his first day practicing marksmanship at his hiring agency, he missed the *practically unmissable* target at the end of the shooting range. What he had learned that day, however, would be what gave him his reputation; after 5 seconds had passed from his failed shot, a weakened support cable snapped from the wall behind the target and obliterated it with a single whip. Although the incident had earned him scolding and ridicule from his fellow students, it seemed to follow him out into the field as well. \n\nA misfire would pop a tire and send a semi careening into the target. A shattered pillar from a missed snipe would cause the floor to collapse, sending the target falling to their death. A ricochet of a pistol round would hit a barrel of toxic chemicals and poison the target. Sometimes the environment didn't even need to be interacted with to take care of the target. One time, the target's poisoned drink was thrown out by accident, yet 27 still managed to get credit for the kill because the target's steak had been infected with a highly toxic mold. Most days, it didn't bother 27 in the slightest. The job would be done, and no one would ask questions. \n\nSometimes, though, it peeved him how none of his kills were really \"his\". Never had he directly shot a target, or poisoned, strangled, or stabbed them; it was always that which was around him that actually did the job. Today, however, he intended to get his first REAL kill. It would be a pistol shot straight to the head. Point blank. Clean confirm. \n\n27 returned from his divergence in thought when the earpiece rang once more. \"Be advised, the target is returning to his office.\"27 watched as the target started to walk away from their friend group. Excellent. 27 slowly sifted through the crowd into an access hallway adjacent to the target's office. He quietly sneaked up to the office's door, quiet not to attract any attention from the guards present. 27 looked through the small opening between the frame and the door. The target was deep in discussion on his phone, oblivious to his surroundings. Perfect. \n\nHe opened the door without making a sound and crept up until he was squarely behind the target. He unholstered his silenced pistol and held it to the man's head. \n\n\"Say goodnight, bitch.\"The target turned around at the remark and suddenly went white as a sheet at the sight of the barrel leveled at him. 27 grinned, and pulled the trigger. \n\nNothing happened. \n\n\"You've got to be fucking kidding me.\"\n\nHe pulled it again. Nothing. The gun had jammed. Out of anger, he tried four more times. It clicked each time, not producing a single bullet. The target winced with each click, but by the end, it had become apparent that the gun was busted. At the realization of his survival, the target yelled out at the top of his lungs. \n\n\"SECURITY!\"\n\n27 cursed himself as he turned around to see a thug in a heavy vest barge into the room with a rifle leveled at him. Just as they were about to fire, he dropped to the floor, then heard the gunshot. \n\n27 quickly scrambled to his feet, ready to hurl the nearest object at his attacker, but was met with silence instead of gunfire. He slowly turned his sight from the guard back to where he had just been standing. Slumped on the floor was the target, his brains splattered against the wall behind him. The guard had done his job for him. \n\nDumb luck had won out once again.\n\nPutting aside his anger to prevent the situation from getting worse for himself, he holstered his pistol before the other guards came rushing in and pointed at the original offender accusingly. With all his might, he yelled out, \"Murderer!\"\n\nPretty soon, the guard had been arrested, and 27 had managed to slip out of the party among the rest of the guests. Once outside, his earpiece crackled to life. \"Good work. Payment's been relayed to the agency. Apparently, your target had hired the most security out of any other of your roster so far; must have been a headache for you.\"\n\n\"You have no idea.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "For your 10th birthday you received vr goggles. You tried them, thought they were dumb and went on with your life. Its only now, decades later looking back, you dont actually remember ever removing them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was seeing his own reflection in the blood, as it pooled over the faux-wood linoleum, that triggered the memory. As Henry examined the slick red version of his face. For that moment, he was ten again, tearing open wrapping paper, a young mind full of excitement and possibilities.\n\nNot a middle aged man who'd just murdered his wife during an argument, bringing it to an abrupt close.\n\nAnother argument, but the same as always. \"You're lazy. Why won't you get a real job?\"and the one that stretched the elastic band back until it snapped, \"I'm leaving you.\"\n\n> *\"Wow, mom! How'd you get it? Tom says these things are sold out everywhere!\"His mom replied, but she'd already become a hazy background buzz, as excited fingers grappled with smooth red plastic, pulling it down over his head. A swoosh in his ears as the menu opened.*\n\nFrying pan had hit skull. Skull had hit floor. Regret had hit Henry almost as hard and at least as fast. Now though, staring at the glossy reflection, it all made sense. \n\nHis grey life, devoid of color. The nights -- and days -- wasted drinking or binging Netflix. The opportunities untaken, untested, that he'd dismissed with a wave of his hand, because, of course, there would always be more. \n\nAnd now this. \n\n> *The choices were limited. Explore a city. A boat down the Nile. Excitement was already draining away and the thought of Lego growing more enticing.*\n\nThese weren't the lucid sensible decisions of someone living life knowing that this was their very only shot at it. They were the choices - mistakes - of someone who knew it was all fake. A game. One of many attempts.\n\nHis world was a construction of imagination.\n\nSomehow, he'd just forgotten.\n\nUntil now.\n\nHe crouched down and ran his hand through the blood, bringing two fingers to his face, painting the memory of the VR unit over his eyes.\n\nThere. \n\nNow he was ready.\n\n\"Goodbye Marie. Maybe we'll do this again, sometime. But better, you know? Let's be real, I was always meant for better things.\"\n\nIt was a relief. A crushing weight lifted. Not just of the murder -- this life been pressing down on him since long before.\n\nHe strode purposefully into the kitchen, the first scent of hope drifting up his nose since... Since when? Since the wedding? Or, since that day when he was ten years old. \n\nHe grabbed a knife from a drawer. \n\nThe VR unit wouldn't come off easily. He'd have to pry it off his eyes.\n\n> *\"Done already, sweetie? Did you have fun?\"*\n\n> He hadn't. The VR city had made him feel sick. And it was boring, anyway. He'd never end up in such a grey world. He had pulled the device off his head and shrugged dismissively. \"It was okay.\"\n\n> \"Maybe you should give it more of a chance?\"\n\n> He rolled his eyes. Why bother? There would always be other play-things, other chances. He dropped down to his knees and grabbed the next present. Maybe there would be Lego." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "\"So, come here often?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So, come here often?\"\n\nDon stared hard at the man holding the rope. His face was still, and his eyes were even in the Alabama sun.\n\n\"I take it you're trying to have some fun with me,\"said Don.\n\nThe man's face remained impassive, but a smile erupted after a moment.\n\n\"Aw, hell. If you can't have a bit of levity here, where can you, is what I say.\"The man took the rope in his burly hands, and fastened it around Don's neck.\n\n\"That's a good point, but I'm not really in the mood for levity at this moment.\"\n\n\"Pardon my saying so, but you're not gonna have many other moments,\"said the man with the rope, as he tightened the knot.\n\nDon's breath caught momentarily. \"That is true. I can't say that I had considered that.\"\n\n\"You ever think much about getting hanged?\"\n\n\"I don't think about it so often.\"\n\n\"See, that's why I make the jokes. It helps.\"The man with the rope fastened one end onto the crossbar, and got off the ladder.\n\n\"You got a good joke for me now?\"Don's eyes were wet.\n\n\"I got *a* joke for you.\"The man placed his hands on the lever. \"Why can't you hang a deaf man in Georgia?\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"It's illegal to hang a man without a proper hearing.\"\n\nDon chuckled. \"You been sitting on that one for a while?\"\n\nThe man nodded. \"No one ever wants to hear the joke.\"\n\n\"They're missing out.\"Don closed his eyes. \"It was quite funny.\"\n\n\"That means a lot to me, sir.\"The man with his hand on the lever smiled, and pulled.\n\n---\n\nEDIT: Which one of you low-down sons of guns gave me gold?" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You meet a genie that grants one wish. You wish to go back in time and change your biggest mistake. You get taken back to the time right before you made your wish." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Wait,\"I said, and blinked. I was standing in the exact same spot, the lamp still in my hands, the genie floating in front of me. For a moment I wasn't sure if anything had changed, if I had just slipped into some fugue state for a second. Then the genie nodded to me. \n\n\"Your wish, O Mistress?\"\n\n\"Wait, fuck,\"I said. \"You're screwing with me. You - did you just take me back in time to before I made my wish to go back in time?\"\n\nThe genie made a little shrug. \"As you say, O Mistress. I am but a humble genie. If my future self sent you here, I am yet to know of it.\"\n\n\"Oh fuck this,\"I said, and barely restrained myself from throwing the lamp to the ground. \"You know what this is like? This is like that guy who gets to ask one question to the smartest guy in the world. So he asks, 'What is the best question I could ask you, and what is the answer to it?' And then the smartass says, 'That was the best question you could have asked, and this was the answer to it.' That asshole!\"I flung the lamp down anyway and it bounced off the ground, leaving a dent. The genie flinched and regarded it sadly. \n\n\"That was my home, O Mistress. I shall still have to live in it.\"\n\n\"I don't care!\"I yelled back. \"I wanted -\"Ugh, I was so mad I was on the verge of freaking out. \"I wanted to change my biggest mistake! And you took me back in time before I could make the wish! I - I thought I had a chance, you piece of shit!\"I swung at the genie and there was a burst of sparks, and the sensation of all the little hairs on my arm being singed off. \"Fuck! Fuck!\"It felt like an open wound dipped in alcohol. \"It's all this recursive, pseudo-philosophical bullshit! And the real answer is: fuck you, you're a fucking idiot for trying! You're an idiot for trying to be better than yourself! You're an idiot for actually trying to do some good for once!\"My eyes were stinging. \"Here's your answer: I'll spit in your face and pretend I'm being wise!\"\n\n\"Ah,\"the genie said, and reached for my arm. I kept it cramped up, holding it tight, but finally relinquished it to him. His massive hands were warm, like heating pads, and somehow driving the stinging down. \"I believe I understand, O Mistress.\"He looked at me hesitantly. \n\n\"Yeah?\"I said. \"What? What? So spit it out already.\"\n\n\"That was no rebuke, O Mistress,\"he said. \"That was simply the truth of your wish.\"He released my arm and spread out his hands and grew like a bonfire, like a forest fire. Like what Moses must've seen at the burning bush. He'd been holding my hand. I collapsed, expecting to be swallowed whole. \"I have been gifted the boundless capacity of the universe,\"he said, and his voice echoed like a bell. \"And pressed into service of mortal souls. I am limitless potential. I am a heart's desire. I am the burning wish of humanity made manifest.\"His burning eyes met mine. \"And now I am made yours.\"\n\nHe cooled, still bright as an ember, and once more took my hand. \"No matter what you have done previously,\"he said gently, \"no matter your greatest regret, it pales in comparison to what you have yet to achieve. If you were to waste your one wish on mere regret, that would indeed be your greatest mistake.\"He released my hand and floated backwards, arms folding into position. \"That mistake has yet to be made. Your wish remains intact.\"\n\nI swallowed hard, and so as not to look at him turned my eyes to the discarded lamp. I picked it up, turning it over, seeing the dent I had made. \"I - I'm sorry about your lamp.\"\n\nHe waved it away with a smile. \"It matters not, O Mistress,\"he said, and pressed his fingers into it, smoothing it out. \"You see? A small mistake, of little concern. Nothing that cannot be fixed.\"He met my eyes. \"Now, are you prepared to make your wish?\"\n\nI held his lamp, rubbing my thumb over the newly-smoothed surface, seeing my own reflection looking back to me. \"No,\"I said. \"I'm not ready. Not quite yet.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "When a beloved dog passes in the hereafter, they are given a choice. They can cross the Rainbow Bridge and await for their owners, or join the Sleepless Watch and defend the world from evil spirits." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The last thing I remember is My Person bringing my to the Sharp Place.\n\nI never understood why My Person would bring me to the Sharp Place. The smells were sharp, and they poked me with sharp things. That's why I called it the Sharp Place. It was a bad place. I didn't like it.\n\nI don't know why My Person brought me there, that day of all days. I already hadn't been feeling good. I'd been throwing up, and my hips hurt and my paws hurt. Even eating grass didn't help. And then My Person brought me to the Sharp Place. I tried to be mad at him, but he seemed so sad about something, so I tried to wag my tail to cheer him up. I didn't even really notice when the Sharp Man poked me.\n\nThen my eyes got heavy and that was the last thing I remember.\n\n**Buddy,** a voice said. **Buddy, wake up.**\n\nI opened my eyes and got to my feet, and I realized my paws didn't hurt anymore. I tried a wag, and that was fine, too. I sniffed the air. It smelled like the Play Park and like Our Home and the Car Window. I liked it a lot.\n\n**Welcome, Buddy,** came the voice again, from behind me.\n\nI turned around, and there was a person there. He wasn't My Person, but he was all safe and good smells, so I trusted him.\n\n*Where am I?* I said.\n\n**You're in the place that Good Boys go,** the person said.\n\n*I was a Good Boy?* I said.\n\n**You were a Very Good Boy,** he told me.\n\nThat was good. I always tried to be a Good Boy. *Where's My Person?* I asked.\n\n**He's still down there,** the person said. And he waved his arm and all of a sudden we were in Our Home, and My Person was sitting on the Forbidden Chair and looking sad. Every so often, he'd look over at the Okay Couch, where I was allowed so sit, and his breath would catch because he was very sad. I tried to nuzzle him, but my nose just passed through his hand.\n\n*What's happening? I don't understand,* I said.\n\nThe person sighed. **You can't be with him right now, Buddy. I'm sorry. It's the way of things.**\n\nI thought about this. *So it's like My Person is on the Person Bed, and I'm not allowed there?* I said.\n\n**Exactly like that,** the person said. **But he can be with you someday. If you choose to wait for him.**\n\n*Of course I want to wait for him!* I said. Not wait for My Person? Who did this person think he was talking to?\n\n**Hold on, Buddy,** the person said. He seemed sad about this for some reason. **It's not that simple. You have a choice.** He got down on one knee and he looked into my eyes. **There are bad things in this world, Buddy. Very bad things.**\n\n*Like Neighbor Cat?*\n\n**So much worse than her, Buddy.** He waved his hand, and I saw what he was talking about. He showed me dark things, that were like snakes and rats, only worse. Worse than the Sucking Machine. Worse than the Sharp Place. They smelled evil.\n\n**These are the things that want to hurt him, Buddy. They want to hurt everybody. So you can wait for him, or you can keep him safe. But if you choose to keep him safe, then you can't see him again.**\n\n*What, never?* I said.\n\nThe person nodded. **Never, Buddy. I'm sorry. Those are the Rules. It's a terrible choice.**\n\nI looked at my paws. I didn't want to not see My Person ever again. But I wanted to keep him safe even more.\n\n*I know what I have to do,* I said, and the person waved his hand, and all of a sudden we were in a place with there were as many dogs as I have every seen before. More, even.\n\n**These are all the Good Boys who chose to keep Their People safe,** the person said.\n\nI looked at them all. I couldn't believe it, still. *But there's so many of us!* I said. *How many Good Boys are here?*\n\nThe person looked down at me. He smiled, but I could tell he was also partly very sad. **All of you, Buddy. Every single one.**" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "King Midas has finally fallen in love with someone who is immune to his curse: Medusa. And he is immune to hers. However, things aren't going as planned at the royal wedding." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Admittedly, Medusa had not been Midas’s first choice. In fact, he had once been quoted as saying that he wouldn’t marry her if she was the last woman on Earth available to him. As fate would have it, his curse had left her just that. And as twenty years of celibacy would have it, he had become a lot more *forgiving* in his preferences.\n\nAfter a single date (which lasted the entire night), Midas had gotten down on a single knee and proposed to Medusa. The wedding was to be held in two weeks as the most lavish wedding ever had.\n\n---\n\nThere was something about weddings that just drove women crazy. Everything had to be perfect. Hell, Medusa would lament at even the smallest cloud in the sky.\n\n“Midas!” she would cry. “The sun will be blocked for our vows!”\n\nTo which he would respond, “Sun? Honey, you live in a cave at the ends of the earth.”\n\nThat one didn’t fare well. He wondered how she'd feel if he also responded, \"what vows?\"\n\nThough Midas had his own complaints as well, like the myriad of Greek heroes who had come to slay Medusa. They came in bronze breastplates wielding mythical swords and some even winged shoes.\n\n“Sweetie,” Midas started, “Did you invite all the Greek heroes who once tried to slay you?”\n\nMidas lifted her veil (which he claimed was for the guests, but was mostly for himself) and saw her smiling.\n\n“They’re not here to slay me,” Medusa said with a chuckle. “They’re here to see me tie the knot.”\n\nThough based on the numerous botched assassination attempts, Midas didn’t believe a single word she said. If he had to guess, to her, this wedding was the proverbial middle finger to all these ancient Greek heroes. Which was fine, he just wanted to get laid.\n\n---\n\nAt last, the time had come. All the guests were seated. Midas had even convinced the Greek heroes to stop trying to slay his fiancé for five minutes so they could finish this damn thing. Medusa seemed happy that only one of the flower girls had turned gold throughout this entire ordeal. The cursed couple stepped in front of the alter holding hands as the priest recited his lines.\n\n“Do we have any words from the groom and the bride?” the priest asked.\n\nMidas nearly laughed. To even give the pretense that this marriage was anything sacred was an insult to all of matrimony everywhere. He just wanted to get to the next part, the christening. \n\n“Hell no,” he was going to start, but then felt a tiny squeeze. He looked up and stopped. Tears pattered on the ground by Medusa’s feet. \n\nFor the first time, he finally noticed her. She had truly gone all out. Her snakes had been braided down her back. Her dress was a pristine white silk. He had heard that she had gone on a week’s fast just to fit into it and at the time, he just thought it was another crazy woman thing for weddings.\n\nBut no. Because beneath a hair of venomous snakes and eyes that turned men to stone, buried *deep* inside this monster, was a little girl who had always dreamed of this moment.\n\n“I have some words,” Midas said.\n\nMedusa looked up in shock.\n\n“Medusa.” Midas squeezed her hands back. “I won’t pretend that this is what we had both wanted. It was our situation that has brought us together. But that’s why this will work. I don’t believe there’s anybody in the world who can understand me like you, who suffered as I have, who have experienced the loneliness that I have. And for that, I love you.”\n\nThis time, he didn’t need to lift her veil to know that there was a smile stretched across her face. He smiled back.\n\n---\n\nWhen they left, they did so with Medusa slung across Midas’s arms holding up two middle fingers to all their honored guests, gods, and the universe entire. Everybody who attended that wedding would later claim that the two were born for each other, but that was the furthest thing from the truth possible. The kingly Midas would never marry a Gorgon monster nor would a mythical beast ever consider the warmth of man.\n\nThey hadn't been born for each other, they had been sculpted.\n\n---\n\n---\n\n/r/jraywang for 5+ stories weekly and ~200 stories already written! " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "A powerful necromancer is trying to raise the dead. However, despite trying different vessels and rituals, he has only raised you. Over. And over. And over. You're both starting to get sick of each other." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Daigoth the lord of rot, I beseech thee, return this puppets flame!\"\n\nDrellmor, Grand Necromancer of the Seven Halls knelt before his altar, a fine arraignment of skulls and intestines to make even the more insane members of his order both jealous and sickened. Waving his staff above the freshly disembowled corpse of his victim, he cackles wildly as a flickering light rises from the floor and phases into the body. \n\n\"YES! All glory to Daigoth! Rise up my slave!\"He throws his head back and screams to the walls\n\n\".....hey Drell\"\n\nThe room goes silent as the dark wizard pauses and stares at the freshly risen zombie. \n\n\"....goddamn it....hey Terry. \"He mutters quietly, as he grabs a book wrapped in human skin and starts flicking through it. \n\n\"Oh don't sound so happy, I'll get the wrong idea...\"says the corpse, now glancing around the room. \"Prick....\"it breathes lightly\n\n\"Why....I thought...last time you said you had paid your debts, shouldn't you be beyond our reach now?\"Hisses Drellmor, slamming his book shut, ignoring its scream of pain. \"I mean....again, seriously?!\"\n\n\"Yeah, seriously....You know, this is MY punishment, why do YOU sound so pissed off?!\"\n\nDrellmor slams his head on the altar, splashing blood everywhere as Terry grabs a needle from his own eye and proceeds to sew his own chest cavity closed. Drellmor rises to his feet and sighs\n\n\"Fine, clean up this mess, might as well get some use out of this....\"he barks, wiping his face off\n\n\"Hell no, man I can still kinda feel this, and you made the mess.\"Terry snaps, tucking a rib back in. \n\nDrellmor grasps his staff and points it at Terry, the tip glowing blue before dripping maggots. \"I COMMAND you...CLEAN!\"\n\nTerry closes his eyes, manually for one, and screws up his face a moment. \"Yeah....yeah no, gonna need more than that. \n\nDrellmor gapes at the walking corpse. \"How.....\"\n\nHe begins chanting, ancient tongues unheard for centuries echo around the chamber, threatening to rip apart veils long forgotten.....as Terry taps his foot. \n\n\"Ya fuckin done yet?\"\n\nThe chanting stops, as Drellmor drops his staff. He backs away slowly \"what.....what are you?!\"\n\n\"Hungry and bored.....also every time I come back I get stronger, guess I found the threshold. Man, I had to suck SOOOO many demon dicks to get to the front of the line over and over...really wish that was a figure of speech\"Terry pulls a lump of sulfur out of his mouth as the cut down his abdomen begins to heal. Drellmor cowers against the wall, his powers worthless, a frail old man. \n\n\"What....what do you want from me? My soul has already been sold....I have nothing to offer you.....\"\n\nTerry chuckles lightly before taking the knife from his heart. He walks over to the shaking form....\n\n\"Clean this shit up.....\"\n\n\nEdit:Holy shit guys thanks!" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your Italian restaurant is frequented by the mafia, and for some reason they think you're a front for someone powerful. You aren't, but you still like to mess with them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As I watched the three men strolling in, their jackets swaying the unmistakable weight of revolvers in their pockets, I knew they were the kind not to be trifled with. However, they thought the same of me, mainly due to rumors I was under the protection of Don Gennaro.\n\nTruth be told, Don Gennaro lived 1,500 miles away and probably never even set foot in this state. But I knew that, and they didn't, and that gave me power over them. How they got the idea that one of the biggest capo this side of the Rockies was the man behind my restaurant, I don't know. But I wasn't complaining; all the benefits of mob protection with none of the drawbacks.\n\nThey sat down at a table in the back corner, one where a single booth covers two sides of it. I walked up to them, and in my most conciliatory tone, said, \"Good evening, gentlemen. Unfortunately, I'll need to ask you to move.\"\n\n\"And what exactly gives *you* the right to boss *us* around, huh?\"one of them sneered.\n\nTapping into my inner dramatist, I let some fear creep into my expression. \"I believe you're new here, sirs, so let me tell you: this table is the personal favorite of one of our *longtime customers*, and we're making an effort to keep it open for him tonight. We greatly treasure his patronage, and losing his business would be very bad for *all of us*. Understand?\"\n\nThe mafiosi's face blanched. \"Oh. Um... sure, of course. C'mon guys, let's find another table.\"\n\nI repeated the process throughout much of dinner. The best bottle of Marsala wine, the last prosciutto platter, one of the men's veal dishes, the cannolis, every first option they chose would be met with a look of pity and an invocation of the phrase \"longtime customer.\"\n\nBy the end of the night, the three mobsters were the last men of the restaurant, and I started cleaning up.\n\n\"Hey!\"One of them hollered. \"We had to change half our meals because of your 'special customer,' but he didn't even show!\"\n\n\"Sometimes he shows, sometimes he doesn't,\"I replied with a shrug, \"but I'd rather do this than risk being empty-handed when he comes in. You may not know it, gentlemen, but this was a lucky night for all of us. *Buonasera, signiore*.\"\n\nAs I watched the three climb into their car and drive away, I pulled a cannoli from the display cabinet and started munching on it. Suckers." } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "You live in a world where everybody is blind and gets futuristic contacts installed when they are born to let them see the world. But one day your contact breaks and you realize, you can see. But the world you see is much different than what your contacts showed you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "**[Note]**\n\nI now have a subreddit, thanks to /u/Dolphythedolphin, it can be found here:\n[[KiljoysGlyphs](https://www.reddit.com/r/Kiljoysglyphs/)]\n\nI've posted some of my older Writing Prompts to it for those who are curious. It may help scratch the itch while I work on the next part. New parts to this story will be ~simultaneously posted here and there.\n\nHope you all enjoy the ride.\n\nA tip about [reminders](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcw0ra0/) that may help some of you.\n\n**[Table of Contents]**\n\n1 - Unblinded\n\n[[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dctxg9p/)]\n\n2 - Secrets\n\n[[Part 2](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcub50k/)]\n\n3 - The Hidden Path\n\n[[Part 3](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcuik2x/)]\n\n4 - The Gateway\n\n[[Part 4a](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcvc77w/)]\n\n[[Part 4b](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcvf7d2/)]\n\n5 - The Abyss\n\n[[Part 5a](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcvqend/)]\n\n[[Part 5b](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcw276t/)]\n\n6 - Birth\n\n[[Part 6a](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcw2hyt/)]\n\n[[Part 6b](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcyv0iv/)]\n\n[[Part 6c](/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcyv2g7/)]\n\n[7 - A slow ride on the long way down](https://www.reddit.com/r/Kiljoysglyphs/comments/5qxyn2/glyphs_pt_7/)\n\n[8 - The Maiden, The Mother and The Hag](https://www.reddit.com/r/Kiljoysglyphs/comments/5rd9xk/glyphs_pt_8/)\n\n[9 - Death](https://www.reddit.com/r/Kiljoysglyphs/comments/5rsb19/glyphs_pt_9/)\n\n(Ok, maybe it will end up being twenty parts long...)\n\n**[The Story]**\n\nIt wasn't intentional.\n\nNothing lasts forever, right? We've all had a lens or two replaced at some point during our life. You go in, they put you under, you wake up with the new lens.\n\nSo when my lens started glitching, I knew what the problem was. Colours in my left eye started to look washed out, sometimes there would be a flicker. I knew I needed to go in and get my lens replaces.\n\nBut I just didn't have *time* ya know? Or I felt like I didn't. I was busy with work and life and Cathy. I kept going \"Ok, today. Today I will book myself in.\", then by the end of the day it turned into \"tomorrow, tomorrow I will book myself in.\".\n\nIt just kept going like that.\n\nThen one morning I woke up and half my vision was blank. I panic, I thought I might of damaged the nerves or something. I ran to the bathroom and checked my eye in the mirror, which is actually really hard to do. The eye I wanted to look at couldn't see, and I couldn't get it close enough to the mirror and look at it with the other eye.\n\nI ended up using a little hand mirror Cathy must have brought over some time.\n\nI looked at my eye and it looked fine, except it was black where my iris was. It was stupid, really, what I did next... They always tell you that they're made from a special breathable membrane and not to remove them, you might damage the tissue underneath.\n\nI'd always believed that, but in that moment I was scared and I thought the lens might of burnt out my eye or something. So I poked at the lens, found that while it was kind stuck on, if I was gentle I could peel it off. So I did, just to take a look, right?\n\nBut when I peeled it off, suddenly I could see again out of that eye. Everything was really blurry and stuff. I thought it must have been some kind of miracle, like maybe they'd secretly upgraded the lens to fix everyone's eyes but were waiting to tell us all or something.\n\nI collapsed on my bed in relief and just lay there for a bit, carefully squinting and blinking my left eye. As I did, it slowly got less blurry, until I could see fine. I was relieved and confused. \n\nMaybe the lenses had already fixed my eyes? Maybe they were waiting for everyone to be fixed or didn't know how well they worked?\n\nI went back to the bathroom to grab my phone so I could call up and let them know it worked.\n\nThat's when I saw it.\n\nI caught it out the corner of my left eye when I was picking up my phone, some kind of blemish on my forehead. But when I turned to look at it in the mirror, it was gone. Or nearly gone. There was like a faint smudge on the left hand side of my forehead.\n\nI closed my left eye and it was gone entirely. Fuck, I thought, this must be why they haven't announced anything. My eye was still damaged.\n\nI sighed and switched eyes, closing my right and opening my left. I nearly fell on my ass in shock.\n\nI could see it again, and it wasn't some smudge. There was a pattern on my forehead. You know QR codes? Those weird squiggly square things tech geeks keep thinking will take off?\n\nIt was like one of those, but bigger and all... connected. Like a maze with just the occasional dot.\n\nI slowly switched eyes again and it went blurry, then vanished. My right eye, the lens eye, couldn't see it... And when I looked at it with both eyes, my brain apparently got confused between the inputs and just kind of... Smudged it out to rectify the difference.\n\nThat was really, really weird.\n\nI grabbed my keys and my phone and went outside, to go see my neighbour and that's when I saw it. The sky. I figured out later it's why colours looked wrong as my lens started to fail.\n\nThe sky wasn't some big beautiful blue thing with a big yellow sun and white clouds. It was grey with smudges of brown. The sun looked dim and red through it, making everything seem dim.\n\nBut if I looked with my right eyes, it was all bright and colourful and happy. If I looked with my left, it was dim and grey and washed out.\n\nI headed over to my neighbours house, and stopped to look at their flower bed before I knocked on their door. All the flowers... All of them, had little weird QR codes on them.\n\nLeft eye, they still looked like flowers, but washed out and covered in tiny squiggles. \n\nRight eye, normal bright, happy colours and no squiggles.\n\nI didn't know what was happening, but it was obviously something massive and messed up.\n\nI knocked on my neighbours door and asked if he'd noticed anything weird. He said he hasn't, but asked if I was ok because I was acting a bit shaken. And probably because I kept squinting at him with just one eye.\n\nBob was a pretty good neighbour and he looked pretty much how I remembered, except he was paler. He looked a little unhealthy and had a great big symbol on his forehead like mine. I apologised and said I was fine and left.\n\nI went to the library, next, and that's where I found it. The whole way there, there was all these odd things. More of those patterns scrawled on all sorts of things, even worked into the fur of a dog I saw as I drove past. \n\nI had to drive really carefully too, because while the shapes were the same, none of the signs had actual text, just those big patterns on them. I kept having to double check them with my right eye to see what they actually said.\n\nI'd gone to the library because my internet was out and I thought maybe I could get answers there. Maybe they'd have information on.. Single eye hallucinogenic breaks?\n\nBut when I went to use the computers... If I looked at them with my left eye, they just had those patterns. They shifted and undulated as I used the keyboard and mouse... Look at them with the right eye and they had the internet explorer and the Juggle home page.\n\nI decided to check some books instead, because that was just a bit too weird. But when I opened up the books? Same thing. Left eye, no text on the pages, just different squiggles and lines. Even the blank pages had this simple little squiggle on them.\n\nI tried a book on psychology, a book on optometry. All the same stuff, and if I used my right eye to read them they didn't seem to have anything useful. So I thought I'd try a book on the lenses and their history.\n\nThat's when I found it.\n\nI read the whole book with my right eye, checking the pages with my left. Information on how they were supposed to work, on how they were first discovered and made after pollutants in the air started to blind people and cause neo-natal blindness. Squiggles squiggles squiggles.\n\nI finished the book, using mostly my right eye. The lenses were just supposed to bypass the damaged cone and beam the signals to the nerves. They were supposed to show you what was already there, and according to the book, they'd done lots of trials with the last few people who could see and the lenses worked great.\n\nThen there was that blank page that books have, ya know, just before the back cover? I was tired and confused and stressed and my right eye was feeling sore from doing all the work. So just as I was about to shut the book, I sighed and blinked my eye open.\n\nThat's when I found the note.\n\nIt was on that last page, written beneath one of the blank page squiggles, in pen.\n\n\"If you're reading this, then you are the one eyed man in the world of the blind. Open your eye and see. We will do our best to find you, but for now you are alone.\n\nDo not wake the sleepers. Do not stare into the abyss, for the abyss stares back.\"\n\n[Edit: Grammar]\n\n[[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5ptqyj/wp_you_live_in_a_world_where_everybody_is_blind/dcub50k/)]" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "Your friend is skeptical about ghosts since they’ve never seen one. You, a spirit medium, take them to an abandoned house on the edge of town, in order to show them proof. As the two of you step into the building, you are unsettled when the spirits begin to flee at the sight of your friend." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After we opened the creaking door to the old house, like white smoke, the ghosts billowed out by the hundreds screaming and trembling. My eyes strayed to my friend. He was unfazed, as though nothing were happening at all, as if the house was truly vacant.\n\n\"Don't you see them? Don't you hear them?\"I asked as the white waves of wraiths barrelled away from him. Him, they screamed, and pointed to my friend before fading away. Him.\n\nHe nodded. \"Oh, I do. I see the cobwebs in the bannister, the missing wood tiles, and the eerie furniture.\"He looked at me, and feigned surprise. \"Oh! You were talking about ghosts. No, I don't see any.\"He patted my back. \"But I'm sure you truly are a spirit medium, and this house is filled with them.\"\n\nI sighed and shook my head. \"Come. Perhaps if we go to the heart of the house you will feel their presence. There are hundreds if not thousands of them here. I don't know why.\"\n\nThe moment those words left my mouth, a ghost strayed away from the fleeing tides, and came to me. His ethereal hands attempted to clasp my collar, but they went right through, and his intangible face distorted with fear. \"Get out!\"he shouted. \"Get away from him. Now!\"\n\nThe ghost bolted away. I gasped. The door swung close. I turned. And there was my friend, holding the doorknob, whistling casually. He gazed at me, his brows furrowed down. \"What?\"\n\n\"I—I... nothing. I'm a bit paranoid, sorry. Why did you close the door?\"\n\n\"Well,\"he said, and reached for something behind his back, \"because\"—he pulled out a gun, and shot three times—\"I didn't want to have witnesses, of course.\"\n\nI fell to the ground, the blood pouring out my forehead and pooling beneath me. The ghosts came after hearing the gunshot. But the world became a blur of dark lines and shadows; their voices became muted, distant. \n\nAnd then everything faded to black.\n\nI woke up in the same house only that it was daytime and I was down in the cellar. The ghosts were surrounding me, shaking their heads. \n\n\"We tried to warn you,\"they said. \"All of us he lured here, and all of us he murdered here.\"" } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "In your meth class, while your teacher is busy explaining the correct way to shoot up, your buddy leans over with a calculator and asks you, \"hey, man. Do you wanna try some math?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's called a calculator, you do math with it\"Joe whispered. \n\n\"It looks old as shit\"Nathan replied leaning in closer to examine the span of buttons and faded symbols.\n\n\"I found it in my grandpa's attic with all his war stuff, the government used this shit in world war two, like top secret stuff to beat the Nazi's.\"\n\n\"Okay. So what?\"Nathan asked. \n\n\"So try it man. I did a few equations with it before class, it's so good.\"\n\n\"No dude, not again, we're supposed to be working on our tie offs and shooting. Tomorrow's the final and I still need to find my veins.\"\n\n\"Quit being such a lame junkie Nathan.\"\n\n\"So now I'm a lame junkie because I actually want to make it as a dealer? Need I remind you I had to spend the whole summer learning to cut coke all over again after you found your uncles old maps. Do you remember that? We were so high on that geography shit. Never again.\"\n\n\"Yeah but we were the hottest shit with those maps. Remember Trisha and Lindsay were all over you. And remember that rager we had at my house?\"\n\n\"No dude, I'm not down with that anymore, I'm not down with you Joe. Do whatever you want but leave me out of it. I don't care if you think i'm some lame junkie. I'm making it this year.\"\n\nThat year Nathan aced all his finals and was accepted to the most prestigious drug school, the University of Colombia. Today he is a leading pioneer in drug trafficking and sales all throughout the US. \n\nJoe dropped out the same year and was later arrested for possession of a controlled arithmetic. \n\n\n\n " } ]

[ { "from": "human", "value": "It turns out that all housecats are actually lovecraftian monsters. Due to an ancient pact with humans, however, they will never use their powers for earthly offense. Against otherworldy invaders, however, they have no such restrictions." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "My cat stared at the turkey I’d just finished carving. Looking at him, I could practically see the wheels spinning his head, as he clearly tried to figure out how he would steal the treasured smoked meat. \n\n“C’mon, Zeus, that’s enough,” I motioned for him to step back. He sort of complied.\n\nZeus, a grey and white tabby, had been my constant companion for almost ten years. There were times where I thought he must have been somewhat human, and he damn well knew it. From refusing to wear a collar, by taking it off himself, to constantly trying (and occasionally succeeding in) stealing my food, the cat had personality to spare. \n\nThat didn’t mean he was getting any of the Turkey I’d just spent hours smoking. \n\n“Here you go, buddy,” I tossed him a few Greenies cat treats. I knew it wouldn’t distract him too long, but hopefully I’d buy enough time to carry my dinner over to the couch. \n\nI was spending Thanksgiving day alone, watching football. None of the games really interested me, but it gave me more to do. The college football games to be played Friday appealed to me far more.\n\nAssuming Friday happened.\n\nA dread had befallen the entire world over the last several days. Most people lived with the conviction that every day would be the last.\n\nIt started back in June, when a triangular shaped craft crash landed right into a thankfully vacant Fenway Park. Given the public nature of a crash landing in fucking Boston, even the Air Force couldn’t cover it up properly.\n\nThe whole world now knew that an alien race, with vastly superior technology, not only existed, but had an unknown interest in Earth. As feared, the general populace did not take this calmly. Alcohol and firearm sales skyrocketed. Suicides jumped dramatically. There were mass riots, a break down in civil services, and all sorts of panic. \n\nNone of this was helped by the fact that the sightings continued. As summer turned into fall, my social media feed reported a new triangular craft sighting almost hourly. When one came dangerously close to some skyscrapers in Dubai, so much so that a security camera recorded footage of the occupants inside the craft, society collectively shit a brick. \n\nAfter several world intelligence services broke down and analyzed the footage, the situation became clear. \n\nWe were being visited by nine foot tall Reptillians. \n\n“Dammit, Zeus, stop,” I lightly swatted at him, as he kept going for my food, “you’re getting too old for people food.”\n\nZeus backed away slightly from my plate, though I could tell he didn’t take kindly to that rebuke. \n\nI went back to the TV. Unsurprisingly, the game had been preempted by a news broadcast. More reports of mass abductions. Since early October, disappearances had spiked to an almost unfashionable level. Enough home security cameras had picked up Reptillians entering homes to make clear their culpability in that rise. \n\nAdditional evidence found at some of the scenes made the situation worse. \n\nThe Reptillians were eating people. \n\nAnd there was pretty much not a damn thing anyone could do to stop them. Every military in the world had taken a swing at them, only to get their asses kicked. By the time October started fading into November, we’d all become resigned to the fact that we were going to be Reptillian food. \n\nI turned back to the TV. A local station had preempted the ballgame. Mass sightings of triangular crafts near my home in a suburb of Pittsburgh. As if on cue, I heard several loud thumps onto the concrete outside. \n\nLooking out the window, I saw several triangular craft parked on the road in front of my home. I heard a slight noise behind me. Turning, I saw four Reptillians, standing about ten feet away. \n\nI was prepared for how massive those sons of bitches looked in person. I knew that they were nine feet tall, what I wasn’t prepared for was just how fucking big a humanoid that massive was. These guys weren’t just nine feet tall, they looked like they started getting steroids in their baby bottles.\n\nOne of them stepped forward, staring at me. \n\n“Can I help you?” I’d come to terms with the fact that I was going to die as lizard food. I was just crazy enough not to be overwhelmed with fear. \n\nHe pointed at me, and one of his buddies started walking towards me. I figured this was about to be the end. I took another bite of turkey, and flipped him off. \n\nAs the lackey Reptillian drew closer, Zeus jumped between us. Before I could react to his action, Zeus hissed at the the advancing Reptillian. \n\nUpon seeing my cat, the son of bitch actually backed offed. Even the leader looked frightened by this development. \n\nWhat the hell was going on?\n\nTime seemed to freeze, as the situation grew even more bizarre. Zeus began to speak. \n\n“Salutations, Lizard Men of Andromeda. I am a priest of R’yleh. My land was old when man was young, and the Great and Terrible Old Ones still roamed this universe.”\n\nThe Reptillians’ faces took on more fear, as they began to back away. \n\n“The Great Cthulhu watched from afar, as you slowly took your first tentative steps into space,” Zeus continued, “and while my priestly order, of which all of my kind belong to, as vowed not to harm the humans, we don’t extend such curtesy to others,”\n\nZeus turned to the Reptillian, who’d previously been advancing on me. He uttered a few words in a language I did not even come close to understanding, and somehow knew its antiquity was terrifying, and the alien invader simply blinked out of existence. The others hastily made a retreat from my home. \n\nWatching, I saw their craft rapidly take off from my street. I think I saw the UFO equivalent of peeling out. These fuckers wanted nothing more to do with my cat.\n\nStill numb from the shock of the experience, I turned to Zeus. He looked at me, confident expectation in his eyes. \n\n“Now, give me some of that damn turkey, human!”" } ]