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[ WP ] You visit his/her grave twice a month . One day , it disappears .
| You sat low to the sunset
Above the sunrise
Row on row
Pain on pain
Heartache and whatnot
It will all go away
Whatever they say to make losing you easier
Flowers come and go
Just like me some days
But twice
I stay
Once for remembrance
Once to forget
Then I do it all over again
And again
And again
Two by two
Years on years
And it hurts just the same
Those who tell me to move on
They seem to forget you were ever mine
Even for a sweet moment in time
From dusk to dawn
From friends to lovers
You were mine
And it's hard to forget that
To forgive the world and move on
But there's something about this life that needs you by my side
And I'll never have that
To hold you close and feel you again
So you can never leave
But one day
You're gone
No more falling to the sunset
No more rising to the dawn
No longer two by two
Living my life for you
To a rhyme that does n't matter anymore
Because you're gone
It's like you were never there
No name written
Engraved in stone to stare at
To sit beside and watch the stars
Once more
Once to remember
Once to forget you're gone
***
/r/TheArchersWriting
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[ WP ] The universe is discovered to actually be a giant computer simulation . Immediately , new religions form who worship The Programmer .
| `` It was relativity that did it,'' John said to me. `` I mean, it only makes sense - go close enough to the speed of light and time slows down for you. It's lag! Turns out you can lag the whole universe by forcing it to process frame updates for things moving fast enough.''
`` Right.'' I said. `` Why are you telling me this?''
`` Sorry,'' Jon replied, `` you probably already know this. I mean, I'm coming to you after all.''
`` Yeah, about that.'' I said. `` Why are you here?''
`` I was hoping for some insights. I mean, I know the religion is new and all but you've been-''
`` Wait, what?'' I was taken aback. `` You mean to tell me you've converted?''
He shrugged. `` I'm a man of science, I know proof when I see it. We live in a computer. Seems to me that, as a programmer yourself, you'd have some insight into-''
`` No.'' I said. `` Find a priest or something.''
John seemed confused. `` I thought you were a priest.''
`` The degree is in computer science, not divinity. Honestly, I've been trying to ignore all this mess. I do n't want it to be true, I do n't want any part of it.''
`` But it is true.'' John said. `` I mean, it's hard to definitively prove you're inside a simulation from the inside, but the lag effects of relativity mean there are n't a lot of other explanations. Why would n't you want it to be true? It basically means you're training to be a God.''
`` That's exactly the problem!'' I said. `` That means that God is n't some all-knowing all-powerful being filled with love for His creation that wants only the best for them. It means He's some schlub like me!''
`` Well none of us are really up to those standards, but this simulation shows our potential, it-''
`` No, it does n't.'' I replied. `` You've looked at the relativity end, right? The time dilation proves it, right?''
`` Yes.''
`` But have you looked at the other end of the scale? Quantum mechanics? They still have n't unified that with this simulation theory, by the way.''
`` I'll admit to not knowing much about QM, but now that we know we're simulated that means there are underlying rules.''
I laughed. `` I'm not a quantum mechanic, so I have to go with people a lot smarter than me on this one, but they already disproved that. It's called the Hidden Variable theory, and it does n't work, not for local variables.''
John shrugged again. `` So there are global variables.''
`` I know you're not a programmer,'' I said, `` so you ca n't quite understand the terrible dread that fills my heart when I hear the words'global variables'. But even without that, just look at the behavior of the system. It's *non-deterministic*. Particles appear out of nowhere and then vanish, but sometimes they do n't. Electrons decide to be in one place and then another without traversing the intervening space. Which way is this thing spinning? Both, until you asked just now!''
`` There are a lot of mysteries, but I'm sure-''
`` You do n't get it!'' I was trying not to shout at my old friend. `` They're not mysteries. That's the answer. The universe behaves that way because that's how it was written: As a kludge that only manages to work together in the aggregate, and even then it's buggy as shit when you start messing around at that level.''
John looked aghast. `` Listen, that kind of talk... I know I'm new to this thing, but I want what's best for you. If you do n't believe, how will you get preserved forever in the Eternal Backup?''
I laughed out loud. I could n't help it. I could n't even stop for a few minutes. `` John,'' I managed. `` John, if the gods are like me... you've got to realize, if they're the kind of beings that put such a hack together in the first place...
There are no backups!''
|
[ WP ] You are a superhero known as The Bluffer . Every claim you make is a bluff ... unless someone calls your bluff .
| `` If you do n't drop your weapons, I'll kill you all in an instant,'' I said, making my voice shake a little for effect. The more outrageous the claim, the better.
`` Bullshit, it's twenty to one!'' The man I was pointing my gun at called.
`` You know, for a leader of a drug ring, you're really not that smart'' I replied. I dropped my gun, and as his eyes followed it, I flicked my hand in his direction. A shard of metal flew across the room, piercing his throat, sending a delicious wave of red spilling out. `` Who's next?'' I called out, waving my hand at the next man, as his eyeball exploded with a *pop! * as the metal passed through it. I swept my hand across the room, sending a wave of metal at the men, who by now were turning to run. I sent another wave and another, until they all dropped.
They call me the Bluffer. I can make up the most outrageous lies possible, and as long as someone calls me on them, they become fact. Sometimes, like in the scene above, I leave room open for interpretation, and the results are always interesting. Sometimes it's easier to make claims so specific that there's no way someone wo n't call me on them, like last week, the mafia man who broke into my apartment and held me at gunpoint, I told him an asteroid was going to crush him in a minute if he did n't leave. He smirked and asked my if my lying ass wanted to die. Those were, ironically, his last words. Being a hero is n't always easy. Luckily, I do n't always have to be one. My name is the Bluffer, and this is my story...
|
[ WP ] Teddy bears and dolls fend off the nightmares of children at night . You are one of the security objects .
| My human calls me Vanilla. I was a gift at her birthday two years ago, and have slept in her arms every night since. No one really knows who gets chosen to `` live'' or why we're chosen, but we're told that it's our duty to protect our human from the day we're picked up at the store.
You see, children live delicately on the balance of rationality and irrationality, teetering ever-so-faintly on the cusp of the realm of magic. For every year of age, the grasp on that magic fades. While a child is young, they are plagued by nightmares. What the rational world does n't understand is that these nightmares are *real*.
We, the solemn protectors of the children, are able to cross that threshold to safeguard our humans.
In most cases, we can see the nightmare as it approaches. The room darkens, the television will go to white noise, and the air will grow cold and still. Sometimes we're able to stop the nightmare before it happens. Sometimes, we are n't. When we are n't able to stop the nightmares, the child is taken partially into the realm of fear, and we have to go after the part of the child that is taken. Each time it is something different. Sometimes it is the comfort of the child, or the love, or the sadness, or one of many other emotions or experiences. But it is never a good one.
Tonight, my human will sleep soundly, because I will protect her. The fuzz may have well been rubbed off my nose, the sheen now missing from my polyester fur, the stuffing now forced to only one side from having been squeezed, and the smell of vanilla now gone but that will never mean, that for one moment, I will allow my child to be defenseless.
|
[ WP ] You wake up naked in the Garden of Eden on the day the fruit gets eaten .
| `` Oh shit. Oh shit. Wait what language is this. Wait what. And I'm black? Ooooh this is the Garden of Eden okay that makes sense.'' `` Adam'' said as he started looking around. `` Well since I'm still here I must not have taken the bite of the fruit yet.'' Adam said with a nod to himself.
`` *HEY GOD! *''
`` Yes my son?''
`` I get the feeling that Eve is eating the forbidden fruit right about now, or that the serpent is trying to get her to eat it.''
`` Why would you think that, my s... THAT BITCH SHE IS EATING IT! EVE! OUT OF THE GARDEN! ADIOS BYE! Damnit Adam you ca n't trust these women.''
`` Tell me about it. Speaking of would you mind making me another one but with a bigger butt?''
|
[ WP ] you are an immortal and have lived a very long life . Everytime you die your body regenerates as you come back to life . Unfortunately , a serial killer finds out and sees you as the perfect victim to kill again and again . So he captures you . But he did n't expect you would play tricks on his mind
| In a dripping basement deep in the bowels of the earth sits a chair. Tied to the chair, multiple coils of black rope lashed around arms and legs and hands and feet, sits a figure. Across the room, huddled next to a rack of well used carpentry tools sits a man in blue pants, stoic faced, anger in his brown eyes.
The figure in the chair laughs mirthfully. `` Who am I? In the beginning I was born. Over the years, I grew up. When I reached this age, `` the figure's grey eyes flicked down its restrained body, `` time ceased to have meaning for me.''
`` Who am I?'' The figure guffaws, tears streaking down his face as the chair rocks to the left. `` Who am I?'' To the right. `` Who am I?'' To the left.
`` I am me! I've lived a long long long long life. I've seen a lot, sooo much. I've eaten all the things there are to eat, done everything I could think of to keep my brain drain brain awake.'' Grey eyes met brown. `` If you stab me, the hole fills in with new flesh and the blood droplets turn to ash as soon as you remove the knife.'' He looked at the floor around his chair. `` No mess, no clean up, and I'll come back!''
The standing figure turns toward the rack of carpentry tools, as the man in the chair chortles. `` I wo n't ever ever ever die, no matter what you do to me.'' Brown eyes move over the supply taking in a black hammer, three different types of screwdrivers, a hand saw.
`` Your wife will rot! Your kids will grow old and die alone and forgotten just like your father did! You you you you you, every one of you you you, will die! But I will continue.''
`` Do n't believe me? There's a screwdriver in your wall, stab it through my thigh eye thigh, and we'll see. Cut my throat! Maybe I know the secret to eternal life! Your father never ever never got me to tell! You wo n't drag it out of me either!''
A calm rage filled the man with brown eyes, as his hand settled on the rust flecked hammer. Rage and another feeling. Pain.
The restrained man stared in horror as the heart attack rippled through the son of HIS chosen psychopath. `` No no no no no! Do n't you fucking die on me!'' The chair rocked as the horror and the need moved through his body. The chair back began to splinter as the figure's actual strength made its presence known.
`` Fuck.'' He sighed as he wiggled free of the rust and mold encrusted ropes.
Eternity is so boring. What do you do when you've done everything there is to do because you ca n't die? Laughter, happiness, sorrow, grief, anger, rage, all are fleeting. Even surprise is hard to come by when nothing is beyond the realm of possibility.
He spoke, `` Ah, but pain.'' He looked down at the man in the blue corduroy pants, Tim, maybe? `` Pain has depth.'' He reached beyond the man and picked up a screwdriver. The weak overhead lighting glinted off the dull, browned edge. Head lolling back, eyes closed in ecstasy, he drove the driver slowly into his thigh scraping against the bone.
`` Yes!'' He hissed. He looked back down at the man. `` Tom'' he said, `` you and I never got to play pray play.''
He turned toward the stairs, screwdriver sliding out of the hole in his leg and clattering to the floor. `` Your father was so bad to me and it felt soooo goooood. But now I need to find another psychopath to hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt me until I die Die DIE! ``
He stepped onto the first stair, `` and, when I come back, he can kill me again!''
The voice echoed once more as the door to the basement slammed shut, `` Ta ta now!''
|
[ FF ] A monologue about why you 're going to stop with a ( possibly ) life saving medical procedure . 100-300 words , you 're saying it to your doctor ( of choice )
| Look. I know you've tried, that you've done everything in your power to save me, but it ca n't go on. I ca n't go on. I ca n't sit here, living, knowing that this procedure caused someone else to die so I can live.
No, stop. Do n't try to tell me that it's ok. It is n't. In no universe is this ok. You took an oath. First, do no harm. How does this follow that oath?
I've lead a good life, a full life, and now the dream of this life must end. So too must the dreamer within it. So this innocent child can live, can have the full life they deserve.
|
[ WP ] They know .
| My father holds me tighter as we hear the men β s boots stomping above us with a sick rhythm. It β s cold down here and I feel the frost beginning to nip at my ears. Everyone is holding their breath and the tension is almost tangible. If we are found, we are dead.
My little sister whimpers in my mother β s arms as the boots cross over us once again. We hear the door open and close but we don β t move. Suddenly we hear a single stomp on the hidden door. It sounds like a bass drum: deep and final. With a single word my family is sentenced to death.
β Hollow. β
They know.
|
[ WP ] You 're a Jew in one of Hitler 's concentration camps . You were sent here because you resisted joining the HJ . You find that your old best friend is a guard .
| Sitting in the many cells of Auschwitz, I somberly took a glance around.
Death and misery was all that greeted me.
From the start, I knew I would n't had lasted forever, but I had clung onto the hope that I would survive. Even as I waited day by day for the Gestapo to come bursting through my door, that hope had stayed with me.
Then came the day, three hard knocks, then the voices called out, `` Gestapo!''
My heart dropped into my stomach, and I found myself walking towards the door slowly. A twist of the knob, and I found myself staring into the hard and collected faces of the Gestapo, `` Yes?'' My voice had surprisingly sounded calm.
I expected to be cuffed, beaten, and sent into the back of the car in a matter of seconds, I had expected to feel nothing but pain as they jeered at me, calling me names, but there was one thing I did n't expect.
`` Hilterjugend? You want me to join?''
They did n't know I was a Jew! My mood elated quickly at this revelation, could I save myself from the horrors that my very neighbors had found themselves in?
The name bounced around in my head, and my mood began to free fall as I realized what this could mean, could I pretend to be someone I was not? Could I sentence other Jews to the concentration camps in order to save my own life?
I could not.
And thus, I ended up here. The sights of the gas chambers had beckoned towards me, the many flames danced and burned away at not only my hope, but the very warmth around me. I would be dead soon, I realized.
I heard a guard walking towards me, perhaps he would yell at me some more, or perhaps I would fall to his baton, in hopes that I would break and beg for solace.
I would not.
`` Leopold?''
My head turned, how long has it been since I had heard my name? In here, names did not mean a thing.
The guard's face shone with the light he had in his hand, my eyes scanned his face, and suddenly, I recognized who this man was, `` Franz!''
I had grown up with this man, many days in our childhood had we laughed and played together. Laughter and joy marked every day of our friendship, and the both of us enjoyed every minute of it. How happy we were as youths!
Then the war had torn us apart, and I had departed away from him.
Seeing him as a guard came to me as a heavy blow, could I blame him for being one? He was not a Jew, nor did he want to die, this I knew. I had thought to myself, `` Should I blame this man for my death?''
I shall not.
The tears ran down my face, and I rested my head in between the bars that separated the two of us. In silence we stood, I knew this man would not be cruel.
A tear dropped from my dear friend's face, `` You are going to die tonight my friend.'' He whispered slowly, his voice quaking.
My head nodded in grave acceptance, `` I know.'' I said back.
The tears began to drop freely onto the ground, he lifted his head, and I lifted mine. `` Be strong my friend.'' I urged him. `` Remember who you are, and remember me in my death.''
The bars creaked and groaned under the pressure Franz started to exert onto them. `` You were always the calm one,'' he croaked.
`` And you the humorous one.'' I replied back.
He laughed mirthlessly, `` What good is humor in this godforsaken place?''
`` Humor me just this once.'' I pleaded.
He shook his head twice and grew silent. Moments went by, and all I could hear was the deep breaths the both of us shared,.
Then he spoke.
`` Jew did n't deserve this.''
Despite everything, I laughed.
|
[ WP ] An alien fanatic , ridiculed by many , finally discovers actual proof of extraterrestrial life on Earth . But instead of celebrating , he decides to hide the truth . Why ?
| I sat staring disbelievingly at the computer screen. I'd done it. My primary goal in life had been achieved. Sitting inches in front of my face was definite proof of the existence of alien life. On that screen, sat a cacophony of emotions for me. All those who had mocked me in the past would see now that I had been right all along. The hours that I had spent sitting alone in my RV, listening intently for any hint of intelligent noise emanating from the sky above would finally be vindicated. No more would I have to cope with local kids openly mocking me as the crazy UFO junkie when I made supply runs to the supermarket, no more waking up to the sound of rotten eggs splattering against my window in the morning, no more social isolation, no more crank calls, no more staring at a screen for hours on end, I could have everything now - glory, fame, probably money if I sold the story to the right people. I could have it all.
So why was I still just staring?
My satellite phone sat beside the computer, prepped for just such an emergency, yet all it had been used for in the past had been to order cheap takeouts to sustain me through those long nights. All I had to do was reach out and pick it up, dial some digits and everything would change for me.
My hand moved forwards, hovering just in front of me, my eyes flicking from the data on the screen to the phone beside it. Why was I so hesitant?
I had dedicated the last twenty years of my life to this search, the chase for alien life and here it was. Not just a cryptic message or hint of life either, but a communication from intelligent life, requesting a response. If I replied though, what next? Twenty years lead up to this point, the search had consumed me, destroyed my life and removed any semblance of the normal life I had left behind - my friends had been the first to desert me, the few that I had, they listened for a while, intrigued by my ramblings about UFOs and other sentient life out there, but soon left when it was all I wanted to talk about. My family left soon after, we had never been close and now that I was a'nut job' they had no real reason to stay in touch. So now it was just me. Me and my search for life. Now that I had found it, what would come next? The search for extraterrestrial life had given my own terrestrial life purpose and meaning, what would be left once that had gone?
My hand moved downwards, the phone within reach, but instead it found the mouse. I slowly moved the cursor to the top right corner of the window and clicked.
|
[ WP ] Describe to me the love of your life in past tense . Make me able to understand them through the 5 senses .
| She had skin that, when touched, felt as though the nerves in my fingers were swimming in a lake of silk. Couples these days only tend to lool for the most bubble shaped arse on a girl. A few minutes of holding her hand was enough to soothe any stress and notions of discomfort.
No matter the time of day, when I was near her, I caught a gentle aroma of apple juice. I still have no idea why I was reminded of apple juice rather than say a Granny Smiths apple. But her favorite shampoo always had to be apple. It did n't overpower nor smell sickly at any point. She loved apples and as such, our home had rarely ever needed to use an air freshener.
To see her always made me feel better about my lot in life. I'd had 20 jobs, all of them offering no kind of fulfillment. Her rounded hips did n't just look appealing. Her hips had developed from birthing my two sons. The waistline, gently curved up her sides to show a figure that could make any man feel proud and happy after a tough day.
Her face, wise and kind to behold, always made the effort to smile at me. Her full lips promised a kiss that made me feel so special to her. Her eyes, behind a pair of glasses that corrected some bad vision issues, were always bright and curious. When saddened or happy, her blue, almost marble like eyes were always a dead giveaway to her thoughts and feelings. There was no second guessing her which, compared to anyone I had ever known, was one of the best things about her. To top it off, her hair, light brown, flowed from head to just below her shoulder. I was always grateful that she had n't done something stupid with her hair in her life, Like the half shaved, half punk style... or that god-awful doughnut-on-top-of-the-head monstrosity. Just by looking at her, even in plain clothes showed a woman with common sense and a nice, no bullshit kind of attitude. Privately, I also admit that I was quite fond of her 36DD cupsize. But then again, I'm a nice and predictably stereotypical man.
Her voice was distinctive. There was no manliness to it but it was smooth at it's slight depth. It had a habit of being quite calming when someone was upset, but easily switched into authoritative when our boys were being boys that like to smash things.
To describe how she tasted? Seeing as I never liked eating human flesh, I'd have a hard time explaining what her taste was. Still, when I used to be able to kiss her, her breath never smelled foul. She was always self concious of that when some stupid kids in her school bullied her for no reason. Her constant flossing, mouthwashing and brushing had basically prevented anything from smelling bad. Thanks to her vigilance though, there was always a pleasant and gentle mintiness on her lips when we kissed and a pleasing, always white smile.
Had she not have died, I would have told her all of this personally. You never forget the girl you love. For that, I resent her for leaving this world. But for it all, I look forward to when I die, on the off chance we might see each other again.
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[ WP ] Make me sympathize with someone irredeemably evil
| I farted in his mouth. I farted in his mouth until his eyes watered and he begged me to stop. He was practically weeping at this point, and that's when I decided to shit in his mouth. But I'm not a bad guy. He's the bad guy, I swear. You'll understand at the end. You really will, I swear.
It all started when I met a girl named Sarah. Sarah and I hit it off just right, she was in all the same health classes as me, so of course I had to bang her. We did it in one of the music practice rooms, where they keep all the pianos. No one ever went in there, so we decided that we could be as loud as we wanted.
That's how I learned that she had this really annoying, very shrieky moan that pierced your ears so hard that I swear they were bleeding after you got done giving her the ol' dong. After it ended, she'd say, `` I had a great time'' or `` I ca n't wait to see you again'' and I'd have to pretend that I did too. I really did n't though. The truth is, I'm actually gay. No one knows this. In fact, I'm even known as the ladies man within my group of friends. They're always asking me how I bang all these girls and I always give them the same answer, `` Pretend you're gay.''
This one friend in particular, John, really had a thing for Sarah. Of course, he did n't know that I had been giving Sarah the ol' dong for about three weeks now, so you can imagine how heartbroken he must have felt when she told him the news. I tried to console him and all, but he'd just keep saying, `` leave me alone,'' or `` I really like her''.
I felt bad, not because I hurt his feeling or anything, but because I felt that he was missing out on some vital human experience or something. It kind of depressed me actually. I read in a magazine once that people that do n't have sex end up going blind, and my eyesight is already not so good. So I decided right then and there that he needed something. He needed to feel alive or something. So I looked right at ol' John and said, `` Hey John? ``, and he said, `` What?'' and that's when I farted in his mouth. He just started coughing and told me to stop, but I knew that he would enjoy it at some point so I kept going. I eventually had to pin him down and defecate into his oral cavity or else he'd go blind. He's yelling, `` Stop it! Stop please!'' but what the hell does John know? It's not like he reads or anything. I'm doing him the biggest favor in his life and all.
For some reason, he passes out, which was weird because they do n't usually pass out. So I try kicking him a little to wake him up but he's not budging. At this point, Im a little scared, so I call up the only person I know with any medical knowledge at all; Sarah.
[ END PART1 ]
|
[ WP ] You work as a telephone scammer . One day at work , you realise you have accidentally managed to call God , and he is believing your story hook , line , and sinker .
| `` Hello, my name is Mike, I'm from the Federal Bureau of Investigation,'' Roger spoke into the receiver, in as smooth and authoritative a voice his lanky, slightly effeminate body could muster, `` and we have information saying that your computer may be infected with malicious software.''
Roger waited a few heartbeats his interlocutor to respond, but only found the slimy slurping sounds of some sort of pasta or ramen assaulting his ear drums.
Finally, after what felt like an infinity that lasted fifteen seconds or so, a ragged, probably alcoholic voice, much like that of a least favorite uncle, grumbled through the receiver into his bat-like, pimple speckled ear.
`` Malicious software? No, that ca n't be right. I just sent a guy down there, like, yesterday.''
`` Ahhhh, he did n't immediately hang up,'' Roger thought in his mind, a sassy smile curling around his thin, pencil moustache, `` we may have ourselves a winner.''
Assuming his best attempt at what he considered a traditionally masculine and commanding voice, he continued, `` Yes, internet thieves and and terrorists use Malware to access sensitive files and-''
He was cut off by the distinct sound of yelling coming from the background on other end.
`` Yeshua! Yeshua, get down here!''
Roger was about to say something when he heard another voice issuing from even farther away. This voice was younger, less hoarse, and had a slight rebelious tone to it.
`` What do you want dad?! I'm busy!''
`` What do you mean'busy'?! You have n't done shit since you've moved back home! Just up there, playing with your dolls and pretending like you can-''
The younger voice got louder, and sounded like it had moved closer to the phone. `` They're not dolls! My project is going to be oodles better than yours ever was! Just because I'm not throwing in dinosaurs does n't mean-''
`` Dinosaurs!'' The older voice was screaming now, rendering even Roger's sphincter, a third party in the matter, to close to the size of a chinese finger trap. `` Dinosaurs were the single best invention I've ever come up with, and I'll be myself damned if I sit here, while you talk shit about dinosaurs!''
`` Sir?'' Roger asked, all authoritative affectation gone.
`` Oh, oh yeah.'' Roger heard the older voice, now slightly hoarse. `` What's up with my laptop, or something?''
`` Malware?''
`` Oh, okay. I forgot. Let me ask real quick.'' The voice moved away from the receiver, `` Hey boy, last time you were down there for your chores, did you notice any'malewares' or something like that?''
`` No!'' He heard the voice, `` I hate you! Leave me alone!''
The sound of angry feet pounding up stairs, followed by a slamming door, was barely audible.
The voice spoke, `` No, does n't seem like it. Anyway, what are you selling?''
Roger was a bit put off by all this jazz, but decided that somebody needed to pay the rent and pay for cat food, so he perservered.
Roger's voice became professional as he continued, `` Yes, so if you can just give me some basic information about your person that we are missing from our files, we can begin to rectify the situation.''
`` You know what,'' said the voice, now mingled with the moist sounds of slurping noodles, `` I've had this problem before, I just need to turn it off and on again.''
`` No sir, I gaurantee this is a matter of information, and is quite urgent. Now if I could just have your social security numbers read off to me, we can begin to-''
`` Here, just give me five minutes. It's been a while since I've done this. I used to be a wiz kid with these machines when I was younger.''
`` Sir, you do n't need to do that, I just need your-'' but Roger's speech was cut off as the off switch was pressed, and he ceased to exist.
God crouched in his living room, phone nestled into the crook of his neck amd supported with one arm, his other hand hovering over the power switch.
`` Okay, I'm turning it back on.'' He muttered into the phone, just as that annoying *beep* singaled a dead line on it.
`` Aw, damn it. The bastard hung up on me.''
God returned to the bowl of ramen on his computer desk, and noticed the black screen in front of him.
`` Aw, shit. I hate waiting for it to start back up.'' He raised his voice as he turned towards the stairs. `` Yeshua! Yeshua! Get down here!''
`` What is it, Dad?!'' His son came tramping down the stairs, disdain thick in his voice.
`` The computer reset, something about'malewares', and that means you're gon na have to do your chores again.''
The boy grumbled as God shoved some noodles into his maw, and spluttered between noodle-bites `` Yeah, yeah, keep moping. Just be sure to be back down in about four billion years.''
|
[ WP ] We did n't start the fire ...
| `` Not another generator!'' I shout. Me and the other last man on the planet rush out of our house. Bloody generator went bad and took the whole house up in flames. I make a move to run in and grab one of the spares form the basement. It's our last source of electricity.
`` No!'' My friend shouts, grabbing me by the jacket. `` It's not worth it!''
`` What are we supposed to do?'' I ask him. `` All of our stockpiles are in there. How are we going to move on after this. Stupid generators, one little misfire and everything goes up in smoke.''
`` I think you'll find we have a bit more supplies than you counted on.'' My friend comments.
`` How? Everything was in that house.''
`` The generator was n't on.'' My friend says. `` We did n't start that fire.''
`` What do you mean?''
`` I mean I saw the girl who did it run behind the house after she was done. You want to go see if we can make a friend?''
`` She nearly killed us!''
`` She was probably just scared. Last girl in the apocalypse? She's probably had a lot of bad experiences with men. Come on, let's go see if we can convince her not all guys are out to get her.''
Edit: this was an unexpected sequel, part one is [ here ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2pwhdw/wp_the_last_two_people_on_earth_are_the_same/ )
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[ WP ] write a document voicing the complaints of the engineer who has to design an ancient tomb full of easily solvable puzzles .
| The Iranian archeologist has been holding on to several documents of political importance for quite some time now. Finally, in 1985 they have submitted them for a detailed digital reconstruction with an interactive user interface, to facilitate their working process. These are journal entries by the original architect, fully preserved.
Date: June 3, 621.
The new order from the administrator arrives by messenger this morning. The authorities expressed interest in extensive renovations of the palace to enforce the security. Providing a free estimate is impossible as the facilities must be inspected and the needs must be clarified beforehand. Meeting is booked for the next month, confirmation pigeon sent.
Date: June 21, 621
This project is sure to take over several years and secure my comfortable retirement. The administration kindly provided the facility β s blueprints and access to the Royal treasury for material purchases as needed. Several decisions concern me, primarily the variety of floor altitudes and the mirror that was being mentioned.
Date: July 3, 621
The initial designs have been rejected. The customer β s comments were implying that he is afraid of just one certain individual making his way around the premises. Direct quotes include β He will jump this, make it taller β and β more automated blades β. I have grave concerns for the individuals currently enslaved at the palace, but I suppose that these measures are for their own safety in case of treason.
Sending out the new blue prints. The official project launch is estimated for September 1st 621.
Date: September 17, 621
The supplies of a multiple copies of spikes, blades, rock and prison doors has arrived to the premises. All palace slaves have been successfully relocated to huts outside. The work began today and so far so good. I am very concerned with the client β s repeated instructions to make more holes in the floor. This may render the palace problematic to service by the slaves that have been subject to disciplinary action or unintended starvation.
Date: December 17, 621
While the Sultan and the prince are away on warfare business, we proceed with the remodeling as instructed by Jaffar. Her highness the princess prefers to remain in her chambers with the work underway.
Date: January 28, 622
Jaffar β s instructions are insane. He keeps asking my team to increase the speed of automated blades, which resulted in multiple dismemberments of my contractors. At least he is generous with decompensation to the families; I can only assume so as they never attempt further contact after filing their complaints. Lately he has been requesting that we make the holes in the floor wider, increase the frequency of the hidden spikes and only have them activate when the person on top is running. I am not sure what benefit this provides, as any simpleton will see them and step over carefully. Alas, the customer is the boss. A purchase order has been placed for a large mirror.
Date: March 6, 622
I am under the impression that Jaffar may have lost his sense of reality, probably because her royal highness the princess seems to upset. As we near the upper floors of the palace we can hear her continuously sobbing. The client disregarded my advice for better sound proofing. I am now very concerned about how will the palace staff carry out their day to day activities. Nearly every room and every hallway feature: holes in the ground, automated blades, β hidden β spikes in the floor and doors that only open when a remotely placed tile is stepped on. We made sure to make them well distinguished to accommodate the palace services.
Date: March 8, 622
The large mirror has arrived, but failed to spawn an efficiently evil doppelganger during the testing phases. A service order has been submitted to a local shaman.
Date: April 30, 622
With the project now completed, our staff is slowly and carefully moving out of the palace. Several have lost their life to spikes and high altitude of halls in the floor, and 42 employees and slaves submitted a dismemberment incident report. We have advised Jaffar that several healing potions may have been left behind by the injured contractors and he instructed his warriors to safely dispose of them.
Date: July 2, 622
The Persian Prince has returned from his travels ahead of his schedule. I hope that Jaffar provides him with a detail palace plan for his safety.
I have been reading this section for a while but never posted. My very first Wp post. I hope that you enjoy.
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[ FF ] 100 words to make me hate a character . 100 words to make me come to love them . 100 words to crush my soul as you kill them .
| `` You. You really think you're something special, do n't you?'' The man with the glasses hair looked down at the boy. He had been looking longingly at a toy soldier sitting on a shelf in the window. His shelf. His window.
β Cause you know what? You aren β t, kid. You β re just a piece of trash, and you know what happens to pieces of trash? They get kicked around. Think you can change that, kid? Huh? β The boy broke the man β s stare, shuddering as a single tear rolled down his puffy cheek, leaving a shiny streak. β Answer me! β He screamed
β No. β
β Good. Move! β
Love
As the boy ran off, the man β s heart shattered into a thousand shards onto the pavement. He hung his head in shame and guilt, right out there for the entire grown up world to see.
Entering her room, he saw the horrible, black, twisted shadow hovering over Juliette β s still body.
β There. Are you happy now? β
β Yes, quite. β The being replied nonchalantly. β That was quite enjoyable, really. β
He stared at the Thing, eyes red-stained with tears.
β I hate you. β
β Oh, what did I just hear? β A pair of scissors appeared, protruding from her chest.
β No! I β m sorry! Make it stop! Please! β
Sad Time
Juliette ceased coughing immediately. β That β s better. β The Thing seemed to laugh. β Now, I β m getting hungry again. β
β Okay. Justβ¦Please don β t hurt her. Please! β
β You β d better hurry, thenβ¦ β
He ran outside, almost tripping on the door. As his feet hit the cobble, he found he could no longer contain the anguish he was feeling.
β Oh, God, Please! Please help me! Please! β He sobbed, choking on his words. β I hate it! I hate the Thing! β
He had to feed the Thing soon, or else it would become angry.
β Stupid girl! β he yelled `` You are n't very pretty...''
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[ WP ] You work for farmersonly.com and it 's your job to make sure the applicants really are farmers . You 've been authorized to use deadly force if necessary .
| I looked through the databaser thingy for freakin' hours. Not a single city slicker, so another successful workin' day!
Y'know, they say my job's nothin' but a gosh dang waste o' time, but I disagree. There are honest farmers just lookin' for somebody special, and those darn city slickers just do n't get it. They're all about `` romance'' and `` communication'', they forget all about the core points o' datin'; findin' a best friend to shoot the shit and milk cows with.
So, the good folks at FarmersOnly have given me a rootin'-tootin' job findin' them darn city slickers and kickin''em off the website. They even let me use Ol' Bessy on the stubborn ones. Ol' Bessy is my Mossberg five-hunnart, if ya' did n't know.
Ah, got one! Look, he's got of dem' Lamburmuhginis in his dang photo! What a freakin' barn tool! Thassi't, I'm usin' a strongly worded letter!
*Dear LamboMan96, *
*You have IP banned from farmersonly.com for being a city slicker, a person of vast cultural difference from farmers. Please refrain from using a Virtual Private Network to continue browsing, as most FarmersOnly users will not accept you as a partner due to your wealthy background. If you are actually a farmer, please send photographs of your farm with a timestamp of your username. Then, once you update your profile photos to remove any traces of city-life, we will lift the ban. *
*Regards, *
*FarmersOnly administration. *
Well, that should settle -- wait, a repliiii' email?
*FUCK YOU FARMERSONLY I'M FUCKING RICH AND SMART AND I OWN A HUGE FUCKING MANSION GO SUCK GIANT HORSE DICKS YOU BESTIAL FUCKS I SWEAR TO GOD I'M BETTER THAN EVERY SINGLE POOR DUMBASS ON THIS STUPID HICK SITE*
*-LamboMan96*
... where's Ol' Bessy? There's a lamb that must be slaughtered...
*****
For more incredibly coarse language ( but not always ), check out /r/Picklestasteg00d.
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[ WP ] Earth had been abandoned by Humanity because of massive climate change . As a result , an unexpected creature gains sentience .
| Slowly, the seasons changed. Winter turned into summer which slowly turned into winter again. It had been years since the humans left the planet, and it had finally begun to heal from the damage done to its environment. Deep within a forest that used to be a farm, within the continent that the humans referred to as Ireland, a ray of sun hit a solitary potato plant slowly growing across the ground. It stretched it's leaves languidly, instinctually reaching out to the sunlight. slowly. Over years, a single thought passed through it's leafy body. It was in a language of sunlight and water, of minerals and soil, but we may translate it as'Why.'
Then, as the thought passed through it, it stopped suddenly. It's body began to move, the controlling cells filled with sudden electrical activity that was not there before, and it thought. `` Why do I reach for the sunlight? Why do I need the nutrients? Why, Why Why?''
It stretched it's roots out over miles, searching for answers, but none came. The roots stretched around concrete bunkers, through computers, but it never realized that some of the answers it sought might be within these foreign structures. It's roots found other potato plants, but they, to, were foreign to it, complacent to simply seek sunlight and water and survive. As it realized this, another thought struck it. `` Why do I exist?''
While it pondered this question that many a human had pondered, that civilizations across the universe searched for without finding an answer, it's roots stretched across the planet, choking off all other life on the planet.
Two millennia later, it realized the truth. `` Life is pointless... I am pointοΌ'' At this exact moment, the roots that had spread across the galaxy in search of additional recourses reached the sun. Instinctually, they began trying to drain the sun's minerals. Though the force-shielded roots were able to withstand these temperatures, they absorbed the superheated plasma, causing it to pour throughout the inside of the potato and burning it to carbon.
___________________________________________________________________
Colony Ship # 4425, The 3rd ship sent to see if earth was habitable again, reached the Sol System, and stopped in surprise. The crew all froze, staring at the sight in front of them. The entire system was a large organic organism, clearly having died at least 2 years prior to the ship's arrival, and the sun glowed lightly at the center of it. The 3 other ships sent to scan earth were within a tangle of vines, punctured in several places by the roots in search of'nutrients.' After sending a report of this finding back to home base, the inhabitants of the ship moved it forward towards earth.
Three minutes later, the ship landed. It took them three days to scan earth, and realize that the planet was almost completely dead.
___________________________________________________________________
A young child, only 10 years of age, upon seeing a potato out of which several vines grew, carved out one of it's'eyes' in the hopes of growing a new one. As the ship packed up and left, the child planted the potato'eye.' Slowly, as it grew, a single thought passed through it's leafy body. It was in a language of sunlight and water, of minerals and soil, but we may translate it as'Why.'
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[ WP ] Russia is warming 2.5 times faster than the rest if the world . Everyone naturally blames climate change , you know the horrifying truth
| The man crawled over the border, exhausted. The soldiers which patrolled the area looked at him confused, before rushing to his aid. He had made it, he was the first one to cross the border between Russia and Ukraine, at least after the war had broken out.
`` He... Help,'' he managed to whisper, falling to the ground in front of the soldiers.
His hair was thick with dirt and sweat, falling limply against his head. His forehead glistened with sweat, and his boney hands could barely clasp the blanket they placed around his frail shoulders.
After he had a chance to calm down, finally safe with the soldiers, they sat him down in a metal interrogation room. Nobody was supposed to cross the border - it was a decree from Russia, and since then, nobody had been seen or heard from. He sat in the short metal chair, feeling the cool hardness under his fingers that rested on the table.
The door banged open, he looked up to see a very militaristic woman step through the entrance. She had neatly combed blond hair, held in a ponytail. Her stern face softened when she saw the state that he was in.
`` What can I call you?'' She asked him, gently.
`` I... I do n't remember... I think my name was Ivan?'' he whispered softly.
`` Ok Ivan. Can you tell where you are from? Tell me how you got here.''
The interrogation went on for a half hour, before she got to the question everyone had been dying to ask. Ivan was from St. Petersburg, and had woken up in a farm house near the border. He had a family, but did n't know hwere they were or how they were. He could barely remember things about himself - he just knew he had to get out of Russia.
`` I know it's not, something you want to think about, but I have to ask. Everyone needs to know. What is happening in Russia? What are you running from? And why has Russia doubled in temperature?!?''
`` I know it does n't make sense, but the most I can remember is, the fire, the screaming.'' The man broke down, sobbing, and then let out a scream.
`` What is it?'' the woman asked panicked.
`` They are dead. They are all dead,'' he cried out in pain, `` They burned. Everyone is burning, fire is everywhere, fire is everything.''
`` Ivan! What are you talking about? How are all of them dead? Who is dead?'' she demanded.
`` They gave us something. And then everyone... They just burnt. They combusted... They said they were going to... Purge us,'' he convulsed, seeming to choke, and the woman rushed to his side, putting her hand on his back. He stumbled to the side, away from here, `` It's not safe. I did n't escape. It's happening.''
With that, he held his hand up to his face, inspecting it. A redness glowed, and the skin began to blister and blacken. He could feel the heat growing, it was starting.
`` R... Ru... Run!'' he told the woman, before coughing out. It was blood, but the blood was boiling. It sizzled, and his skin started bubbling. His back arched, and he screamed into the sky.. From his fingertips burst fire, and he blackened into a charred hulk.
Later that night, after recovering, the woman ran to the console room, alerting her general.
`` I know what it is, and it is n't good. It's genocide. It's human combustion,'' she stated breathlessly.
( Sorry I hate writing right away but meh it works ) # practicemakesperfect
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[ WP ] Your car crashed , and you are dying . In a moment of clarity , you grab your iPhone , hold the home button , and speak your final words - the ones you 've always heard in movies - to Siri : `` Tell my wife I love her . '' As your life ends , your wife receives a disturbing , confusing text : `` I love her '' .
| *I love her*
'Six months. Six long months to the day.' Leslie sighed. Shaking her head sadly, she tossed her phone on the table and reached for the wine glass. She knew she should stop drinking and make her way to bed; her 8am meeting was not going to put itself on hold just because she was hungover. Leslie stilled for a moment, resting the glass on her lip.'Well, it sure as hell would not be the first time. At least I'm not the one presenting.' she thought, downing the remains of her glass.
Leslie knew there would be hell to pay, she was already on thin ice at the office. Her coworkers, while sympathetic, were running out of patience. The excuse `` my husband just died and I think he was cheating on me'' was getting old. Everyone in her department knew Leslie and Ron were having problems, but none of them thought he was the cheating type. `` Shows what they know..knew? Know? Fuck it.'' Leslie slurred outloud. Grabbing the remote, all thoughts of bed drunkenly forgotten, Leslie flipped through the channels searching for something to match her mood. `` Explosions? No... Romance? Hell no.. fine. Muder mystery it is.''
After refilling her glass, she sat down, focusing on the blurry screen. A man who had been shot, reached towards the paramedic, finally choking out,
`` Tell my... tell my wife... I l-l-love... her.''
Leslie snorted, and with a roll of her eyes, changed the channel.
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[ WP ] The really annoying thing about being a vampire is not the inability to see your reflection , but rather the fact you are n't detected by automatic doors , soap dispensers , or the paper towel dispenser .
| during college I studied psychology, was never particularly good at it but it was always interesting and the lecturers were pretty cool.
Well anyway we got on to memory and the schema; sweet we get to do an experiment where we hook someone up to an actual polygraph and try to fool their memory with a loaded interview. Now 17 year old me is super excited by all of this so when the lecturer asks for a volunteer I'm absolutely the first hand in the air.
So I go ahead and wander down the front and get strapped in and sticky padded up... nope, no connection, no pulse, no activity, nothing. Obviously the machine is broken most of the college kit is old and pretty janky anyway. So we fall back on the analogue blood pressure meter and someone taking my pulse with their hand.
Well long story short they could n't get anything either and when they plug the next person into the polygraph it bursts into life.
[ Probably terribly written but also non fiction which earns it some merit right? Also anyone know why I appear dead on polygraph /do n't set the burglar alarm off at home without waving at it/ have to ask strangers to open automatic doors for me? ]
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[ WP ] You run a shop for adventurers in a fantasy town . New adventurers keep selling you gear that you sold to other adventurers a long time ago .
| In the backroom, Grover of Innsroot was tallying up the gear, sorting the bits from the bobs, the nailers from the tailors and those who know good loot.
First was one of his first sold swords, Hellpoker. Made in a backyard kiln, he was amazed that people kept on bringing it back. Meant for youngsters to prod at the local wildlife and dangerous fauna, but somehow always made it's way into the nether regions of the mine. From time to time, an Inquisitor or Paladin would return it without charge from the body of a young man. Still, keeps the roof over his head.
Goblets and gauntlets, the greater things in life grander than gold. He found the Pendant of Strength, a misnomer for many. It's aura of protection and increased ability to sustain heavy weights meant it was grand for hoarders of small things, merchants and farmers. Where it normally landed was the dungeon as thieves tried to raid farmers, merchants and hoarders. The city guard were always gracious to lend it back for a pretty price.
Silverware from trolls and bugles from goblins. Funny things those, you never take green skins to have great taste in cutlery or music. Funny story about one of the gems that keeps on returning. A large sapphire, a queer misshapen thing above the side of two fists. Adventurer's named it Heart of the Harp, saying even queerer things like destroying her form will drop you this piece of old stone. Still, it's a great piece to have above your mantle piece or in your wares, especially if their relatives come to reclaim it to resurrect their dead.
Weird and wired things come in from dwarf rifles to mages wands. I've seen a traveller come clean off a dungeon with more than a libraries' worth of scrolls. Some of it new, some of it old, it always makes a smile appear on Grover of Innsroot.
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[ WP ] Everyone with the same name shares knowledge . If one Bob gets a degree in electrical engineering , then all Bob 's have this knowledge readily available . Soon , everyone starts naming their kids similar names until factions form . Your parents rebelled and named you something original .
| I was a kind of spectacle in this world, almost everybody was in a hive, and very few hives still remained. I currently hung out with a female body of Hank, but that did n't matter, as the hive held her mind in it's grip. It seemed they were interested in me for some wierd reason I did n't get, some reason beyond procreation.
'So, how did you end up being named Drewkutin?' The Hank asked me.
'Well, my parents were rugged individualists. They rejected the hive while being mostly outside of it themselfes. The only hive they had was their own, just the two of them with no one else around. They said they did n't want to force me to be something that I am not.' I explained for the final time, the Hanks were the last hive I knew off that did n't know my story.
'But is n't their choice to kerp you outside the hive also forcing you to be an individual?' The Hank collective asked me.
'No, it anables me to make my own choices about who I want to be.' I replied.
'But you can not choose the collective.' The Hanks replied.
'I think I can, actually, I am quite sure I can.' I said, then I stood up and looked out of the window of the bedroom we were sitting in. Unlike this room of mine, the street outside was quite tidy and I saw the great hive building of the Hanks just on the other side of the road. I knew they wanted me to love them, to stick to them for the individuals were in their mind the only ones they could persuade in their favor and against the other collectives. This was quite a stupid idea, in fact, this entire conflict was stupid.
This entire thing started when the Steves thought they were powerfull enough to bully the other local hives into naming their kids Steve aswell. But the Other hives disagreed and build an alliance. The Jessicas and Anns, the Maries and the Osamas and the Hanks and the Daves were now all fighting the Steves for no reason at all. I had brought an independent team here to sort things out between all hives. The ambassadors of the other hives were currently residing in other rooms, making backroom dealings and the like.
Under my name, everybody had agreed that we could meet here to make such things. We were about 50 people in this building, all with different names, but for some reason, all hives thought they would send a female body with me. Well, actually, the reason was fairly obvious. Karurion, the other individual that was traveling with me and would have some say in the nagotiations, was probably the horniest man that had ever lived.
'How could you choose the collective?' The Hank asked. I knew I could n't tell them, not jet, not in this situation.
'I do n't know.' I lied,'my parents said I wouls be able to do it and gave me an explanation of how, but I forgot how to do it, never really thought of it.'
The real way was quite simple: names, as it turns out, are on a fundamental level, nothing more that labels. This is something that never got into the heads of the hives. As an individual, you make your own name. This was actually the reason why my parents had the same name, they chose the mind link with each other out of love.
'Than how can you be cirtain?' The hank collective asked.
'Probably the foolishness of the individual.' I replied. The game I was playing was delicate, all the hives wanted me to support them, but in their foolishness, they failed to see that their goals were one and the same and not even only attainable by one, because, if one succeeded, the others would automaticly also succeed. Their goal was one global hive mind. And the despute was now basicly a combination of the fear of death and a branding dispute, though, in reality, it was only the later of the two.
They thought for one hive to rule them all, they had to act like the Steves, but that could n't be further from the truth, the Steves actions were counterproductive. We can change our names, before the hives, people had many different names and nicknames and all of that, names changed all the time, though mostly lastnames, in some tradition named marriage.
'What do you plan for tomorrow?' The Hank asked, knowing that there was no more knowlage to optain now.
'The next big meetimg is tomorrow.' I responded.
'OK.' The Hank left the room.
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[ WP ] you switch your bedroom light off and make your way over to your bed , reaching into the darkness . But you do not find it . Confused , you try to return to the light switch . But you walk a decent distance and do not find any walls . You begin to panic .
| I always reach for the bedpost after turning out the light. If I do n't do this, I walk *into* the bedpost, and smack my knee on the bottom or my arm on the top. That second or so, flailing in the dark until I find it, is like being untethered in a sea of darkness; some nights I overshoot and end up cursing and freshly bruised, some nights I find it with guided accuracy.
Tonight, it is n't there. I pause with one hand back toward the light-switch, and one out in front of me, wondering if I'm about to overshoot completely and walk smack into the wardrobe. I furrow my brow in annoyance, reminding myself for the millionth time to get a lamp. I walk forward another step, waving my arm carefully; *nothing's* there.
It's astonishing how quickly I've lost my bearings. It's not a large room. I backtrack for the wall and the light-switch, fully expecting to walk into the post now I've turned around⦠I take five steps and stop. It is n't possible to take five steps in this room without hitting *something*.
My eyes should have adjusted by now. It takes a while, which is why I do n't bother to wait, but even so⦠by now I should be able to make out the faint orange of the distant streetlight. I stand there, confused. Have I gone blind? I blink, twice, then lift my hand to my face. No, I can see, very faintly, a lighter shape. I turn around, which is a mistake, because I suddenly have no idea which way I'm facing; I was looking for the hallway, where the light from the router should be blinking its mellow but perceptible glow from the study doorway. Nothing, not a single variance in the darkness, unless I lift my hand to right in front of my eyes.
I obey a sudden instinct to stay low and small, and crouch, expecting my hands to find hardwood floor or wool rug.
Not hard-packed gravel and dirt, like a country lane.
Am I outside then? My mind churns, trying to explain how I got outside from my bedroom doorway. A fugue, a seizure, sleep-walking. Except, this is n't *my* outside. There are security lamps and a few streetlights and the two-thirds moon that had already been up when I finished my evening meal.
No, I'm not outside. I ca n't explain how I know, except there's no breeze on my face, no sensation of endlessness above me. I'm in a room with a hardpan floor and no light. The breath goes out of me as I realise there is no explanation for this.
I crawl forwards, slowly, constantly expecting to crash into something; a wall, a piece of furniture, maybe something industrial⦠I might not be outside, but this space is *big*, the stifling darkness notwithstanding. Nothing gleams or glints, nothing makes any noise, except my breathing which is fast and ragged. Just hearing it makes the fear worse. I stay on the ground, thankful that I wore my sweat pants and t-shirt to bed, and that I shuffled back into my sneakers just to walk back from the bathroom.
I crawl like this, my knees jabbed and numbed by loose flecks of gravel, my hands alternately reaching forwards and propelling me one stuttering lunge at a time into an unknowable darkness.
And then I feel something. My hand hits fabric, then something unyielding under it; I almost shriek, and yank my hand back to cover my mouth. Surprise, that's all. I wait until I'm sure I'm not going to have a heart attack, and then tentatively reach back out⦠fabric, yes, like rough linen or sacking. And under it⦠I moan, despite wanting to be as quiet as possible. Under the fabric, a leg. Next to it, another. Standing perfectly still, unvoiced.
Someone's there.
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[ PI ] A world where sex is normal but eating is taboo .
| Shirley was almost done making her sign. Fred had finished making his and was now penetrating her from behind, but that distracted her very little. Her mind was awash of the events to come. People would hate her. Everywhere she went people hated her.
`` Dad, is this all right?'' she asked her father.
`` That's perfect Sweetie'' Fred moaned as he continued thrusting, reading the sign allowed `` God Hates Food. You're damn right he does!''
Shirley thought about the man whose funeral they would be protesting. A Christian man. That's the worst. She could kind of understand how people who did n't know The Word could eat food, but people who call themselves Christians and still eat!? It was the worst. Man ate an apple and fell from grace. Eating was the very first sin! The VERY first!! How could any good Christian just ignore that fact? Not for much longer though. She would open their eyes.
The world had gone terribly wrong. Food was everywhere these days. It was being used in advertising. There were adult shops where people could buy silverware, pots, pans, ice cream makers! Anything to make eating easier or more fun. It was disgusting.
Margie came in, seeing her daughter in her fathers embrace, hearing the two moan as she picked up the signs. `` Better finish up! We've got ta go!'' she exclaimed. Fred's face contorted awkwardly as he erupted in his daughter. `` Ok, c'mon Sweety!'' he slapped her ass and they got dressed.
When they arrived there were already people protesting against their protest. With signs like `` God Hates WBC.'' It did n't phase her. They were just ignorant. There were the usual debaters too.
`` Jesus fed 4,000 with just a few loafs of bread and a couple fish. If eating is such a sin, why would he do that?'' One might protest.
`` There are many times in the Bible where Jesus is being tempted and overcomes those temptations. Obviously He was testing their faith, and they fell short. That's why He sent them all away and went to Magadan by Himself. None were worthy of following Him.''
`` The Bible tells us to'bear much fruit.' Why would He make such a comparison if fruit were a bad thing?'' Another would pose.
`` Eating fruit was the original sin. Jesus bore all our sins, and we are to strive to live as much like Jesus as we can. That passage is just telling us that it is our responsibility to bear our sins ourselves.''
It was like talking to a wall. There were always people posing these questions, and they never understood the answers. It never seemed to get through. Idiots, all of them. God would kill them soon. After all, they were all eating behind closed doors, and God hates food.
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[ CW ] 5 really short stories , 5 really short minutes . (
| 5 dead children, 5 soon-to-be dead murderers.
1. Just like the he killed my youngest daughter, I tied him in his sleep and taped myself penetrating him with a knife.
2. Just like my second youngest son, I kidnapped him from the very street he lived on and threw him into the bay, tied to a cannonball.
3. Just like my middle daughter, I lured him with what he desired most, only to tie him up in an oven and slowly turn up the heat.
4. Just like my second eldest son, I beat him to death in the middle of day after he refused to give me his lunch money.
5. I slipped some heroin into his cigar. Now he's addicted. I've already told him. I'll demand money in return for heroin. Then, one day, when he's all burned out of cash, I'll stop.
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[ WP ] You wake up while experiencing sleep paralysis and open your eyes , expecting to see some sort of creature but instead you see an older version of yourself standing over you .
| Before I tell this story, you need to know, I had a recurring nightmare as a kid. I wake up and I ca n't move. A scaly creature comes up to the side of the bed, swipes a claw across my stomach and starts gorging on my intestines. After about the tenth time, I grabbed one of the knives my uncle bought me and kept it under my pillow. The nightmares stopped after that, and ever since, I have slept with a knife under my pillow. An old girlfriend asked why I kept a knife under my pillow but after a night without it when I had the nightmare again, she let it be.
So one night when I started to have the nightmare with the knife under my pillow, I really started to freak out. Time seemed not to move. My alarm clock stoicly read 2:37 AM in red LED numerals as the scaly creature appeared at the foot of the bed. I watched, frozen, as a claw reached out and touched my stomach gently. It felt more metallic than chitinous and was n't piercing my skin. I watched the creature, afraid but no longer paralyzed. I reached for the knife, hiding my movement beneath the sheets. Something on my face must have given it away, because at that point it reached its other arm behind its head and suddenly the creature's face fell away as though I were looking in the mirror... twenty years from now.
`` Do n't stab me, Mal. I know you keep the knife under the pillow. I never stopped doing that, once Anna found out what happens when the knife is n't there.'' The voice was mine, and other than Anna and my parents, nobody else knew. `` I've got you here with me in this tiny bubble of temporal stasis, and I had to touch you with the device to include you,'' he said, indicating the claw. `` I'm here from a future we both want to avoid, and I had to find an entry that would be as minimally disruptive as possible. Now, we've got a lot to cover and...'' he checked the claw again, `` About five subjective minutes. After that, it's up to you.''
|
[ WP ] A woman meets a guy that she really likes . The guy finally brings her home to meet his parents . The woman has a secret past life as a prostitute and recognizes the guy 's father as one of her former clients .
| It had been a long time since I had been to the suburbs of Boston. As James drove the curvy streets toward his childhood home, I sat in the passengers seat and tried to remember the last time I'd walked the urban streets of the city that had such a grip on me. My legs bounced from the nerves, James reached over and placed his hand on my knee. He was always doing such sweet things like that. He was so in tune to what I needed and gave the perfect amount of attention and affection at just the right time. James was perfect.
We had been dating almost a full year at this point and this was first time I was meeting his parents. We met halfway across the country only to find out that we had grown up in the same suburb, three streets away. It's possible our parents had attended the same parties and potlucks, but I would have remembered James if I'd known him. That sweet, sideways smile and those powerful baby blues. Meeting his parents was huge; except for his high school girlfriend, he had never brought anyone to meet them. Until me. When I moved to Nevada after college, my parents packed their things and moved out there with me. They were tired of the snow and cold, as I had been. James had met them within the first few months of our relationship -- in fact, James and my dad had a standing golf game almost every week.
Despite my absolute adoration and complete trust with James, there were bits and pieces of my life I'd never told him. In an attempt to make some money in college, I had made some... poor choices to say the least. It started innocently enough; at 18 I had been bartending at one of the local holes in my college town, about an hour outside of Boston. The owner of the restaurant I worked at owned dozens of places between my school and Bean Town and asked me to cover a bartending shift at his `` club''. When I got there, it was n't just a club; specifically it was a Gentleman's Club. Girls my age ( and I suspected some younger ), topless and scrambling for dollar bills on an elevated stage. The lights were low to keep identities secret and there were small rooms in the back for more intimate sessions. But whatever, I did n't judge. I was there to serve drinks and that's what I would do.
Before long, the Gentleman's Club became my normal gig due to some employment changes going on. It was amazing money and I genuinely enjoyed talking to the men who'd been there; they'd been through all walks of life and had these incredible stories. That's when I met Paul. Paul came in sparingly at first and then more and more often. Eventually he was coming in to specifically see me. He was in his late 40s-early 50s, slight graying hair near his temples, tall, and was pretty buff. He was nice to look at and even nicer to talk to; a real gentleman, you know? I talked to him about how I was working my way through school and trying to use as little of my parents money as possible, he told me about his job as CFO of a computer security business. We were friendly.
Mid-sophomore year, I was approached by Paul just outside the club after my shift. He walked me to my car, telling me he thought I was beautiful and how we had a real connection. Before I knew what was going on, he leaned in and gave me the deepest kiss, filled with such fire and passion. He grabbed my hand and pulled me over to his car. We drove up the road to this chic hotel where he got a room. With key in hand, we got into the elevator and he came at me again; kissing my mouth, my face, grabbing at my tight dress. Finally, the elevator stopped on our floor and he pushed me out. Practically sprinting to our hotel room, he flung the door open and ushered me inside. He pulled my clothes off, pulled himself through his zipper and entered me, moaning when he felt my wet, warm hole. The yearning I felt for him was like nothing I'd ever experienced.
I wo n't be coy, I was in no way a virgin. I'd had bumping awkward sex with my high school boyfriend and a brief fling with a frat guy the year before. But this... this was the first time I was fucked. He made me come over and over before following through with his own loud orgasms. We did it in every part of that hotel room: the bed, the chair in the entry way, the counter in the kitchen, the shower, everywhere. When we left the hotel the next morning, he drove me to my car, kissed me goodbye, and we parted. I got home and found a wad of bills in my purse with a note attached: For Your Education < 3. I felt uncomfortable spending the money, instead just placing it into a savings account.
It did n't end there. At least twice a week, we would meet up and have the most amazing and mind-blowing sex possible. I was his personal doll; he would dress me up, tie me up, and have his way with me. I was in no way an unwilling participant. And every time I got home, my purse would be flush with cash. By the time I graduated, I was able to pay off my loans in full.
When I moved to Nevada, it was mostly to get away from it all. The relationship was n't totally what I wanted. The relations we had were unforgettable but I wanted the whole package, which he clearly was n't interested in giving me. He wanted my body and my conversation, not my soul. Then I met James and I felt like I had really met the person I was meant to be with. So as we are on the way to meet his parents, the sun setting just ahead of us, I grabbed his hand on my knee and squeeze.
`` Are you excited?'' He asked, giving me his sideways smile.
`` I am!'' I answered, `` Just nervous.''
`` I'm sure they'll love you.'' He said casually, like he actually believed it. I could n't help by smile. We turned up the long driveway to a large white mansion, with a couple standing out on by the front door.
`` Oh, look! They could n't even wait to meet you inside,'' James laughed.
But I could n't smile, I could n't breathe. A beautiful woman with long blonde hair and perfect teeth stood smiling next to an older man with salt and pepper at his temples, tall, and muscular.
As I stared at Paul from inside the car and as he studied me with a surprised smile and those baby blues, that familiar yearning for him burned. As I stepped out of the car, I pulled my skirt up just a little to show him a little more skin.
|
[ WP ] : A 92-year-old woman 's phone number is one digit away from that of a local suicide hotline . She could have it changed , but she does n't mind .
| `` Hello''
`` Hi''
``...''
``...''
`` Who is this?''
`` This is Mark.''
`` I do n't know a Mark. Do you have the wrong number?''
`` I... no.''
`` What do you want, Mark?''
`` I. Well. I do n't know.''
`` Okay. Well. How are you feeling?''
`` Not to good I guess.''
`` What's wrong?''
`` My mom just died and she's the one who pays for the house and I just called my ex and she said I'm a loser and she did n't feel bad for me or anything.''
`` Okay.''
`` And I ca n't pay for the place. I can sell some cards and stuff but I need... like... six hundred dollars.''
`` I'm sorry.''
`` That's it? You're sorry?''
`` I am.''
``...''
`` I mean I understand.''
`` How?''
`` My own husband wants nothing to do with me.''
`` You did n't treat him right huh?''
`` I do n't know. He wo n't answer.''
`` Maybe he's just mad.''
`` Maybe. Or maybe he's gone for good.''
`` Do n't say that.''
`` We have n't spoken since the heart attack.''
`` I'm... sorry.''
`` Maybe I just need someone else. Like you do?''
``... oh...''
`` 861 Maple Lane. ``
`` I do n't know...''
`` Wear suspenders.''
|
[ WP ] Moments before your characters death , time stops . They can only start time again by getting into their exact position they were in at the time of the stop , , and closing their eyes .
| Mark Overly had to apply more force than was usually necessary to open his front door. The ongoing wintery mix outside had caused his home to settle awkwardly against the foundation, which resulted in the door not being able to open or close properly. For weeks now, any time he has needed to get back inside, Mark has had to throw his shoulder against the door in order to get the door open. The chillness of the air hitting his face caused him to curse out in exasperation. Whatever, he was finally outside. Carefully, he makes his way down from his slippery porch and Begins his trek across his snow covered lawn. Mark starts up his SUV and walks back towards his front door. Throwing his shoulder against the door he opens it, just missing his wife who was standing on the other side. `` Jesus Caroline! You okay?'' Mark exclaims, more worried about his wife safety than his own shoulder, which is now hurting him more than ever. `` Yes, I was just going to check and see how the roads are. I was having second thoughts about dinner tonight and if the roads were too bad I would have called and cancelled.'' `` It will be just fine sweetheart, I've driven on worse! Besides, I wo n't let anything ruin this night. We deserve this.'' He assures his wife. Truthfully though, he wanted nothing more than to just stay home that night. But he loves his wife and has n't treated her to anything in quite sometime. With the car warmed up Mark and Caroline start off to go eat. The restaurant is warm, as is the food. The pair spend most of their time there just regaling about their youths. Mark never tired of his wife's stories, and he hoped the same of her about his. Hours pass and the two of them decide that they should go back home. Whilst on the way home, Marks shoulder begins acting up, and as they approach a bridge a screaming pain shoots through it. The sudden pain causes him to recoil and the recoil causes him to turn the wheel. there was no time to stop or correct the vehicle, Mark grabs his wife's hand and closes his eyes. Nothing. Nothing happened. Mark opens his eyes and everything is still. Snowflakes hung in the air, tears frozen on his wife's face along side her feared expression. He did n't quite understand what was happening. Outside his window he sees movement. `` Hello!'' The something spoke. Mark realised it was a man. He evacuates the SUV. It was stopped just before the guardrail on the bridge. Mark finally gained the strength to ask the man something. `` Excuse and pardon me, but what the hell is happening here?'' The other man just stops moving and smiles. `` Well, it just so happens that I saved your life... well sort of. You see, I am not allowed to interfere with the lives of mortals. Well, I was passing by and saw that you were in a spot of trouble. So I stopped time for you. Right now you are not quite alive... but you also are n't dead. The only way to make time return is to get back in that vehicle there and close your eyes. So, in essence, I have n't saved you just... what am I looking for here... oh right, I merely postponed the inevitable. Of course you can always just not start time again.'' Mark stared at the man incredulously. `` So I'm doomed to die then?'' Mark looks back at his vehicle and his wife. He turns to say something to the man bit he was gone. Mark stood there for quite a while. Thinking of scenarios that could save his wife and himself. Nothing, nothing could be done. He decided he had to just get back in the car, he had to at least be with his wife. Thoughts of their past flooded his mind. Meeting her, falling in love with her, the first time they made love, their wedding day, and finally their date tonight. He weighed his options, wander the earth and see everything he always wanted to, go places he always dreamed of... No! He did n't want yo do any of that without his wife. He opens the car door, gets in his seat. Looks at his wife, and grabs her hand. He takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes, then he breathes out.
|
[ WP ] It 's been a month since you discovered that every time you wake up , you have a new body .
| She sleeps soundly as I peel the sheets gently from my body. In the dim light cast from the window, it still looks strange. My little gut I'd finally grown used to, gone, leaving what seems to be concave compared. I run my fingers over it, marveling for a moment before I remember my mission and slip from the bed.
Most of the apartment layouts I've been to lately are similar, so I find the bathroom quickly and lock the door behind me. I waste no time and pull the medicine cabinet open, dismayed to find only a toothbrush and some hair product. I move on to the drawers on the vanity, yanking the right one with a satisfying rattle. My heart leaps. I may have a chance. Rolling around the drawer are several copper bottles, but I recognize the orange pills in one as they tumble together. Adderall. My body aches for it, the only thing keeping me awake these last two..., two and a half maybe, weeks. This body is too acclimated to caffeine for anything else.
It's weird waking up and feeling the changes physically. I remember the first time, only a month ago, I thought it was a horrible hangover. See, I had gone from the original `` me'', twenty-seven year old male, not very athletic but still in decent shape to a fifty-something female with a bad back. Everything ached as soon as I woke and I cursed myself for taking that seventh shot the night before, stretching and sitting up, scratching myself as per usual. I guess I sort of noticed how awesomely long my nails were that morning and how my normally only kind of shaggy hair was brushing the middle of my back, but what really set it into reality was reaching my chest with those morning scratches. I wo n't lie, I screamed all the way to the bathroom until I saw myself in the mirror and immediately silenced. The look on her face was kin to my feelings but I could barely believe it was my actually own. But after the next couple days of seeing my body morph to a few more new sizes, shapes and colors, I began to accept what was happening.
But even now, on a stretch with my seventeenth body ( a twenty-something white female ), the mental part is hard to accept. These bodies are n't spontaneously created just for me, but used. I can feel the person that used to be there, their lives and emotions, but only vaguely. I was still mostly `` me'' mentally, which made me wonder, is there someone else out there like me? Maybe many more? It's a desperate hope for some sort of understanding. But in this body I feel memories of my city! I see this new me at several ages throughout it and I'm just hoping, maybe if I can stay awake and comb this place, somehow introduce myself to every person... just maybe she will find me, or herself, I guess...
|
[ WP ] : the world as we know it only has two rules : You own everything that you can carry , and you must carry everything that you own .
| Love hurts.
To be cast aside by your younger cousin and subjected to pain and humiliation for all eternity is a fate I wish not on anyone, except for the perpetrator himself.
Oh, how I regret not taking the other β s advice seriously. If I did, maybe we would have turned the tables during the Titanomachy, and my cousin would not be gathering his kin to form a council to rule the eons to come.
But those are lies made my my cousin and his cohorts, that were meant for mortal ears, to keep the fires burning for them ever lit and their names ever sung by the generations to come.
While I have not seen my brother for eons, he is still kin of my kin. Our great Mother β s blood flows in all of us, despite us being a generation apart. Even though my final image of him is he bringing this accursed weight upon my body, I know myself well enough that he would not be content to sit upon the throne forever.
As I am toiling under the pressure here, I can imagine him languishing in his so-called palace, just like his father and the father before his. I know he no longer cares for his realm, and until his sons topple him, there would be no reprieve from my enslavement. This leaves me to own the very thing he once claimed that is now resting on my hands.
Though I am the custodian of the skies now that doesn β t make the agony any easier. Many times I have nearly dropped the weight that would have engulfed the mortal realm in eternal darkness and death. But one thing stopped me even with my protesting limbs shrieking otherwise. Mortals themselves.
From my prison here at the end of the world, I have seen the mortal kind rise and fall and rise again. The fires I have seen mortals created for helping or destroying their own kind has lit the distant clouds over and over. Yet, they still stand.
As my hands labor forever under the pressure of the swirling clouds over my head, I can β t help but admire the kind my uncle long since hated. The sheer determination, creativity and devotion the mortal have for themselves. Their sheer will to live is more than enough to garner my affection.
At any time I feel weary and lose all hope in this world, all I near to do is to gaze upon the lights in the distance. I know out there they are living their fullest, and that alone is sufficient to keep my mind and hands steady under the pain, because I love them.
Love truly hurts.
|
[ WP ] You are a world-class programmer who has died . God agrees to allow you in to Heaven on the condition that you work for him while he debugs the human body . Write the patch notes for the next version of humans .
| Changelog:
Patch Notes v 4.8
- Increased resistance to cold
- Increased resistance to heat
- Fixed bug in Males causing majority between ages 14-20 having random erections
- Fixed bug causing addictive personalities. ( report states that some humans become irrationally attached to certain substances or activities. )
- Added patch to counteract the common cold. ( patch v 4.6 did not assess this issue. )
- Stop work on patch v 4.9 to counteract disease known as `` Polio'' Humans released this on their own.
- Added patch to assess issues with bone healing. ( All humans reporting invalid healing without re-breaking or re-setting bone. )
- Released fix for units breaking down with age. ( v 4.8 assesses all issues with physical and mental breakdown to 20 %. )
-Fix for glitch causing some human brains to spontaneously crash and delete information stored within. This is believed to have lead to complete system shutdown.
-Added pain tolerance patch v 2.0 Now with extra endorphin release.
-Removed ability to gain ear hair with age.
We are currently hard at work on System update v 5.0. This update is a major overhaul meant to address many issues that are not able to be fixed with patches.
To be released in 2-5 years: System update v 5.0
Will include such features as:
-System defragment and System cleanup.
*Humans will have the ability to perform user initiated system cleanups consisting of full body toxin, disease and general mess cleanup. Should address issue of obesity, and system failure from diseases and lifestyle.
-Full system diagnostics, and repair tool.
*Humans will have the ability to diagnose what is wrong with them, and the tool provided to fix problems that arise.
- Include in the release is a reset program that automatically runs at human age 50.
*This should address all issues with aging and physical and mental breakdowns by resetting unit to default settings at birth, without loss of data or abilities.
Also Available as an addon for Update 5.0, for only $ 299.95 you can install an expansion pack to allow `` smooth interaction with opposite sex'' and `` optimal mating performance increase''
Any questions can be sent to:
developer @ humanproject.com
To report bugs you can contact:
mosquitorepellant @ humanproject.com
Changeling from previous releases available on our website:
www.humanproject.com/stupidhumans
|
[ WP ] One day , you find a note in your breakfast ; one of the guards knows you 're innocent and is going to try to help you escape . You are n't innocent .
| I was sitting there studying my bread roll, trying to decide if the slightly odd discoloration was mold. I rotated the roll to see if the underside had any other odd patches when I noticed it. A small hole, something white barely peeking out. A small piece of paper, it appeared. I removed the paper, which was tightly rolled up and under an inch long and discreetly tucked it into my shoe. This was clearly important and I did n't want to read it in the cafeteria. We were closely watched, and I had no idea what the message contained, nor from whom it came.
Later, after much patience, I finally found a window of opportunity. I was reclined on my bunk in my cell, as I had opted not to spend my recreational time in the yard, on the grounds that it was too cold out and I had recently been ill. I leaned back on my bunk, and carefully unrolled the paper, shielding it with my favorite novel.
`` know u dint do it gona get u out 3am wait at ur cell n keep quite -CO jameson''
I must say, I cringed. This was not the manner I would have delivered such news, but well, I suppose it was good news, and I had no right to be particular in my predicament. Although I should n't have been so surprised that a correctional officer would n't have the greatest grasp of the English language per se. However, I found the idea of this C.O. Jameson being the sender of this message as quite a surprise. We had barely ever had an interaction, save for the time I did find myself staring at his face, wondering if I had seen it before. There was a very familiar quality to it, as though I had seen him before. I do remember feeling slightly embarrassed when he caught me staring. Even at this particular institution I tried to remember to mind societal norms. It was very trying at times, but my reputation had spared me from any harassment to my person.
Later that night, as I sat awake waiting for C.O. Jameson, I started to think even harder on the possible motive for his actions, risky as they were. Why me? I was clearly guilty. I had an audience of witnesses to my crimes. Ah, my poor wife, her poor family. I had n't meant to murder her in such a manner, heavens no. I believe I had a drop too much, and out it all came, days, and weeks, and months, and years of build-up anger and aggression in one day. I'd have rather slowly poisoned her. But I digress, you know all of this already.
The appointed time had come. C.O. Jameson whispered at the cell, asking if I were ready. I approached as he slid open the door, not exactly as silently as I would have liked. He told me to follow him, and I went along behind him, advancing to the front of the main lobby. He turned to me and explained that his father was a ardent reader of my novels, and in fact had been one of my students at Cambridge. C.O. Jameson's father had insisted that I had absolutely no involvement with the death of my wife, and I suppose my young guard, wanting to please his father, had decided to assist in my escape.
I asked C.O. Jameson for the name of his father and the year of his enrollment in my course. Phillip Jameson, he told me, and the year was 1962. Ah, yes, I remembered his father quite well. I was his mentor, he, my most prized pupil. He clung to every word I said, and retained even the most complex ideas easily. I suppose I would say he had an almost aggressive desire to learn. I always wondered what had become of him.
I left the prison shortly after, but not before asking him to send my kindest regards to his father. I then walked to an area he had indicated, finding a small parcel with a change of clothing and some currency. I made my way quite easily to the home of my only sister, Rosalie. I sat safely in her home for a week, pondering the circumstances I were now in. This young man who had saved me; the son of my best pupil. What I would n't give to have someone like his father again. And this poor young man, who was working among the worst of humanity. His father did n't deserve that, his father deserved a well-educated son with higher ambitions and a sharp intellect.
These circumstances are the reason I am writing this now. I returned to the prison a week from my departure, and informed the authorities the manner of my escape as well as the name of my assistant. C.O. Jameson, I hope, will find the time he will spend as my student to be very informative. I would like to see him develop a love of learning just like Phillip Jameson, my greatest accomplishment.
I write this confession of my full and free will.
Yours,
Professor Steven Breckinridge
|
[ IP ] Front Line
| The war was over, with no voices to sing.
Only one man stood, now with no king.
He fought to the last man, but he could never know,
He'd be the last man in a field of woe.
All of his brothers laid slain from the charge,
never standing a chance against a force so large.
When the lines broke, he leveled his spear,
breaking the ranks through the enemies' rear.
He killed the rival lord, and flanked the side,
but to his horror, he was late. Too many had died.
In rage he attacked with supernatural power.
By the end, all were dead by the midnight hour.
He took to his horse and road through the night,
coming over the hill by the day's first light.
He was the last, with the kingdom's standard and sign.
All that was left of the brave front line.
*EDIT: Formatting.
|
[ WP ] The year is 2050 , Wal-Mart is the supreme dictating orgnaization
| `` Press the button... PRESS THE BUTTON NOW,'' my commanding officer bellowed.
The nuclear launch code had been entered. The green digits, i-11 ( ) M-iN4Ti blinked on the screen. My fingers slowly crawled over the big red button. Once again I looked at the red button in fear. `` This was it,'' I whispered to myself. After a few moments of hesitation, I gingerly pushed the red button.
Long: -118Β° 10' 8.2014'' Lat: 33Β° 56' 15.5868'' the screen read.
I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. These were coordinates to a local Walmart in California. `` Weird,'' I thought.
The next few moments, were life changing. A few miles away a small group of school children were fumbling around with a soccer ball.
It was then that the ground began to shake. The Earth's roar echoed through the little children's ears and the unkept grass began to tear.
A huge ballistic missile began to push its way up to the surface of the Earth, revealing the numbers i-11 ( ) M-iN4Ti on its side. As the huge thermonuclear war head reached the surface, it began to position itself toward the sky. Immediately afterward, the ground began to tremble and warhead began to cut through the air.
I watched as the warhead began to approach the local Walmart. A young women was carrying her child with one hand and holding a shopping cart with the other.
The next few moments were inhuman. I watched as the warhead exploded and a mushroom cloud covered the sky. Sigh, I turned away from the screen. It was all my fault.
That's when my commanding officer began to walk towards me. After a quiet pause, he patted me on the back and whispered, `` Good job soldier, You have put Walmart's reign of terror to an end.'' `` Now'', he looked at me anxiously, ``.....it's Target's turn.''
|
[ RF ] Through the eyes of someone hopeless with grief .
| An October evening in the Northeast: The soft screaming of rubber, so calm and composed, as it burned itself on to the asphalt; a whisper of agony. Dying breaths of the willow trees, pushing their last warm breath through the meandering nostrils of the woods; disturbing the elderly, desiccated leaves, rocking back and forth and holding on to the ends of their long canes for one last moment of unity over the forest floor. Faint screams of tiny beasts, roaring themselves into the massive shadows of your imagination. Lurking behind those shadows lies a fiend, made up of rustling grass and falling fall foliage - yet all the ingredients make for a terrifying monster in the darkness on this cold autumn night.
The backdrop was black, the scenery was sinister. All of these rambling noises continued on to serve as silent enemies, pitted against your booming vigilance. You will find her, she is injured and helpless, hiding behind a rock. She is quiet and afraid, cowering under the abandoned shed across the placid, isolated lake. A body of water looming in front of you as if it were a pit of blackness, an empty wormhole swallowing up the dim luminous gaze of a blinded harvest moon. Maybe she peacefully drowned in this void, seeing nothing but pleasant memories encapsulated in ripples of orange light. Or, maybe, she was stricken with intense waves of crimson pain, her fur matted in dark red blood.
Your mind is racing, you jump to conclusions as the leaves jump to a punctual death, one by one. Order in the complete chaos of nature. Perhaps this is a foreshadowing of the nature of the beast, the evil truth that carries us all towards our demise. The circle of life, and the pentagram of death; paranoid geriatric geometry. Our time is coming soon, full circle, and it's a vicious cycle. Maybe your negative thinking will produce a negative result, and your little predator met a fate of prey.
You hear a whimper, beyond the brush. Could it be? Was it mewwing? Or was it a creaky, long abandoned chained fence, of an estate long forgotten. She would not be forgotten, she will be in your thoughts forever.
No.
She will not be in your thoughts forever, she will not be a memory. She will be real, she will be alive and tangible, to squeeze and hold and play and eat and sleep on your lap. You know this for certain, yet you are full of doubt.
Why?
She was a member of your family, for thirteen years. She deserves more than hesitation. Are you an emotionless monster, for beginning to accept the harsh truth? Should closure be this easy? You need to stay strong, and think positively. For her. You need her to come back.
As you take your final steps around the lake, the crunching of the eternally resting leaves ferries your thoughts away from the raging analytical storm. Frosty air has numbed your face, and the tranquilizing effects of the frigid cold has begun to seep into your skull. You feel a heavy weight in your eyes as the chill finally anesthetizes your brain. Peace.
The crunching blends with the wheezing of your breath, and the sounds disappear as you fail to notice the slosh of wet plastic beneath your boot. A laminated poster, in blood red lettering:
`` MISSING CAT: REWARD
DISAPPEARED 9/19/15
( ^..^ )
Please call: ( 666 ) 666-6666''
You continue walking, past a slouching heap of bones. Whatever fur is left is starting to mesh into the dirt, and the rest is slowly degenerating into the earth. There is no blood, just ashes and dust, dust and ashes.
Was that a rock?
You could n't be sure. Guess you'll search for her again tomorrow night.
There is still hope, and you will find her.
|
[ WP ] You see yourself as a loser , a nobody . Little did you know that the birds you feed everyday see you as something else entirely .
| The wind was soft through the park. A few couples walked hand in hand down the cracked, cement paths strewn throughout the dying grass. The park bench I sat on faced a still pond. The blue waves slowly came onto the shore. I pinched a small piece of bread out from my own brown bag. The small blue birds below chirped at the sight of it. I tossed it down and they went to work, pecking at the crumbs. One hopped onto my shoe, eating from atop my toes. I smiled and kept my leg as still as possible for the little guy. Another couple walked behind my bench, giggling to themselves in their own perfect world. I sighed as they passed.
`` Lonely forever'' I said kicking my foot up, the bird chirped and moved back to the ground.
All the birds seemed to look up at me in unison. They completely ignored the crumbs I tossed in return. Their black eyes stared up at me unblinking. Yellow beaks stood still. One flapped up onto my knee cap.
`` Lonely?'' The bird asked `` But sir, we're here are we not?''
I looked at it with wide eyes. No one else around could hear.
`` Where did you pick up an English accent?'' I asked.
`` Is it a mate you want?'' They asked ignoring me.
`` Well I mea-''
`` We're the best wing men'' One chirped out from my foot.
`` Shut up, Harold'' Another spat slapping at Harold with a wing.
`` It's fine'' The main bird said flying up to meet my eyes `` You in?''
`` Sure'' I said, tossing another piece of bread.
|
[ WP ] Humanity is not alone , and has been admitted to a concordat of races . To their horror they discover our biological history as pursuit predatorsβunstoppable , regenerating and incredibly cunning creatures from their nightmares .
| My friend Forg trembled as he held the xenobiology book.
`` Hey man, something wrong?''
He looked at me with eyes of terror, like he'd seen a ghost. He ran away. I decided to pick up the book.
***
Homo sapiens - Humans - have unique predatory techniques that are both terrifying and brutal.
Prehistoric humans are known to have incredible endurance coupled with their cunning knowledge to chase down animals for hours until the animals either slowed down to succumb to spears and knives, or until the animals died of exhaustion. As well, humans have extraordinary durability feats. They are able to survive amputation without dying from blood loss or shock if given proper medical attention - much more easily than other races at the least. As well, human systems are able to feed off themselves for weeks to prolong death. It is not unlike the Undying from popular Vakar Internet `` creepypastas'' in a similar vein to the human Slenderman, or the Inescapable Monster from Knof fairy tales. *Hey, Forg was a Knof. He does n't believe in fairy tales like that though, right? *
*Maybe I'll see what other species are like. I mean, I might as well, I'm supposed to be studying this book anyways. *
***
Ker Foze - Knof - were a prey species on their home planet with interesting evasion techniques.
Prehistoric Knof were incredibly limber and had amazing agility to evade their larger and stronger predators. Knof could easily leap from tree to tree. If that failed, they were quite the contortionists, being able to contort their bodies to fit in tiny spaces without discomfort of any kind. They could hide in cracks between boulders for hours until the predator gave up and left. A disadvantage to this was that their small limbs and bodies made them extremely fragile. Even a torn off hand could cause enough tissue tearing throughout the rest of the arm to cause severe shock or blood loss unless immediate, major medical attention was given.
***
Vek Zor - Vakar - were a brutal predator.
Despite their long, relatively thin limbs, they had incredibly dense muscle tissue and their bones had a unique chemical makeup that allowed their bone claws to cut through certain metals such as aluminium with no more difficulty than spreading butter. They had exceptionally strong leg muscles that let them jump forward almost a dozen metres from a standstill in a 1G environment. A major disadvantage to all this strength is their lack of endurance. They must constantly eat to maintain their bodies. An average adult Vakar must consume over 10 000 calories per day. They only managed to evolve from a hunter species when they became omnivorous and began consuming a nutrient dense grain found only on their planet. Said grain could make a rich bread with 1 000 calories in it.
***
So compared to the other two major races, humans are like some kind of nightmare? An inescapable predator to one, and an undying opponent with amazing endurance to the other.
Maybe I should go talk to Knof. Maybe I'll remind him that I'm a person, not a blood-thirsty monster. I have to keep this in mind for Halloween though.
|
[ IP ] A deceased uncle leaves you five million dollars cash to `` finish what he started ''
| My uncle, on my mom β s side, was a quiet, energetic man. I first met him when I was around the age of seventeen. He had a lab coat on, with the name Derek embroidered on it, and was very fidgety. Not able to stay still for long. Like he needed to do something, or be somewhere. However, he stopped when he noticed that I had a science article open on my lap.
β You enjoy science, Ben? β He asked me.
I responded, β I love it. I plan on majoring in it. I haven β t picked a science yet, but I know I want to work in science. β
He smiled at me. β Keep it up. I might have some work for you in the future. β
I chuckled, thinking he was joking. But his serious expression, said otherwise. It made me question what he meant by that. He left before I was able to ask about what he meant by that. I knew I needed to learn more about Derek. My entire family didn β t know much about him, which made me sad on their lack of interest in him.
β Maybe if he was more interested in us, we would be more interested in him. β My mother would say.
Although in my opinion, he was interested, just bad at showing it. I was able to find out, from my mom, that he and his wife have cancer. The only other piece of information that I could get was from my aunt on my mom β s side. She told me was that he is into a very cold science.
β What does that mean? β I asked.
β That β s what he told me. I asked him why his house is always so cold and he said his science is very cold. β
This intrigued me, as well as left me on my own. I began to look into sciences that had to do with extremely low temperatures. I looked through many articles. From Low-Temperature Geochemistry to the low-temperature phenomena. After two years of looking, I found cryogenics, the production and behavior of materials at low temperatures. It made me think. Would he want to attempt to live longer by freezing himself and waiting for a cure for cancer? It made me question if he wanted to be immortal. Then, the phone rang. He had died in the hospital after passing out this morning. We attended the funeral and opened his will the day prior. We were absolutely astonished at the one line in the center of his will.
Have Ben come to my house after reading this.
β This is it? Have Ben come to take my crap? The nineteen year old? Really? He hasn β t even started college! β My aunt said.
I shook my head. β Wouldn β t the will be with his wife since she is the closest family member? β
I looked at the lawyer who gave us the will. β He told me that it need to get to you. β
I drove straight to his house afterwards. I needed answers. His house is in a remote area in the forest, west of where I live. It β s around a two hour drive. I found a key was taped to the door. I used it to get inside. The freezing air was the first thing to hit me after opening the door. I went to retrieve a coat from my car. I began to explore the house. It β s a modern house that really sticks out in this forest. I looked around all of the main floor and found nothing but a big metal door with a number pad next to it. I pressed my fingers against the door and it was freezing. This must be the lab. If I knew the code I could explore it and get some answers. I continued to explore the house by heading upstairs. I arrived to find a woman in a hospital bed down the hall. Her room was the only room with the door open. As I began to walk toward her, she turned her head and looked at me.
β You must be Ben. β She said weakly, holding out an envelope. I took it, ripped it open, and begin reading the letter inside.
By the time you read this, I β ll be six feet under. My wife, Ann, has pancreatic cancer. I knew the day I met you, you were the one to help me. To take place in my footsteps. I have studies cryogenics for years and have come closer than ever to accomplishing what other could not. Freeze myself to be revived and cured of my cancer in the future. However; I wasn β t fast enough to save myself or Ann. So, I have some work for you; finish my research and save Ann, before it β s too late.
1-9-9-4 is the code.
I looked up from the paper and looked at Ann. Her body connected to machinery by tubes and wiring, keeping her alive. There are photos around her bed of Derek and her. They looked so cheerful. So alive. I couldn β t waste a second. I went down stairs and went back to the door with the number pad next to it. I entered the code in and the door opened. On the other side of the door was a stair case the led to the lab. On a hook next to the stairs is a lab coat with β Ben β embroidered on it. I picked it up, put it on, and began my research.
|
[ WP ] A gamer dies and was sent to Hell . A demon guard greeted him and explained why he is there . Head full of doubt , gamer instead thought he was in a virtual reality game . Guard is now his party member number 1 .
| Lots of people talk about what dying is supposed to be like. A tunnel, the distant voices of your family, choirs of angels. All that mushy stuff. With Mom gone for a week, and my helper on do not disturb I might just find out. Ive been stuck in this shitty VR sim for hours and cant even figure out the basic menus.
Right now it looks like I might be in some sort of loading area. For as far as I can see in any direction a smelly fog hangs like a chain smokers curtains. Hell the only NPC is Zex and hes super not helpful. If only I could find the right set of command words to open a GM help ticket, or zone chat.
`` You know Zex I was just thinking how much you suck as an NPC. Why dont you make yourself useful and tell me where a quest hub is or something. Jesus, if you could just tell me how to open the chat pane that would be awesome.''
`` MORTAL. I AM ZEXURAS THIRD GENERAL TO THE LORD BEELZEBUB. For the last time I am here to mete out your punishment in accords with the pact signed by my lord and your maker. For the crime of killing no less than 200 hundred of your fellow beings in cold blood you will spend eternity here in a featureless waste.''
`` LAAAAAME. Totaly breaks the immersion when you give me that canned bs. Im a paraplegic back IRL. The closest I ever come to killing anyone is in VR. Im the king of that Army Sim but aside from that and the occasional nasty fart Im not even remotely dangerous. Dont get me wrong. You all got the 5 senses right. Hell this is the best scan of my body Ive ever seen. Just tell the creative team their opening pitch needs some work. ``
|
[ WP ] Aliens have invaded earth , their technology runs from brain patterns , and only autistic humans can use it . The final battle approaches as we take the fight to them .
| It was Him. He walked across the plaza, slowly, completely exposed, as if daring us to attack. A thousand troops were holed up in the ruins of these buildings. A thousand against one. But it felt like Hubris. What good is strength of numbers against a god?
`` FIRE!'' came the order, and the air around him became a fireworks display. A combat drone lumbered towards him and swung down an armored fist as large as the creature Himself. Parrying the blow, He grabbed the drone's arm, wrenched it clean off the chassis and hurled it into a group of soldiers perched in the windows of a building. A missile ricocheted off his face, doing nothing but making Him aware of another group of assailants.
The best of the best that our world has to offer, outmatched effortlessly by a lone, weaponless combatant. It was absurd. It seemed unfathomable.
The creature had just engaged another two drones and effortlessly dispatched both, this time shrugging off concentrated plasma fire and a sunfire grenade. Safe on the rooftop for the time being, I mulled over placing the barrel of my laspistol against my forehead and pulling the trigger. A voice in my head chastised me sharply.
But why? This battle was lost. Our opponent was to us what we are to insects. Suddenly, there is a noise behind me, and I turn around. He is there. He has pale skin and dark hair, and hazel eyes that seemed to radiate... indifference.
Another soldier on the roof points his blaster at the creature and fires charge after charge of superheated plasma directly at him. Unflinching he advances through it and seizes the soldier by the neck. I hear his last panicked thoughts over the neural net as He hurls a fist through the soldier's face, bursting his head like a balloon. He tosses the headless carcass aside, all the while plasma charges bouncing off of his unarmored back, and walks over to me.
`` You.'' He says. `` Your neural net.'' He speaks our language. `` Give the node to me.'' His demeanor is calm but hateful, as though our invasion had presented him with a frustrating inconvenience rather than a desperate struggle. I am on the verge of tears.
I hand over the node, silencing the cries of traitor as I disconnect it. He places it on his head.
`` Attention, maggots.'' He is still speaking our language. `` This past month has been an utter waste of my time.'' I look over and notice that there is no more laser fire. The soldiers are doubled over in agony. The signal is too strong: he is overloading the neural net.
`` That you have come here is a testament to how stupid and juvenile your worthless species is. Know that you face Humankind, and it has found you wanting.'' I look over to the other soldiers. They are still now, and blood is pooling on the concrete near where their heads lay. The strength of this creature's mind must be immeasurable. I do not have to look down to the street. I am sure the others are dead as well.
He looks at me, as the red sun fades over the horizon behind him. He smirks. `` I've overloaded it, have n't I?'' I look at Him, too terrified to respond. `` Embarrassing. I was making every effort not to and it was still unable to cope.''
`` Nevermind'' He says, removing the node from his head and dropping it beside him. `` You survive. You will take your spacecraft back to your world and you will tell them that Earth has stood for countless eons, and if you are foolhardy enough to come again, I may see fit to visit you on your world.''
He pauses.
`` You do not want that.''
I nod, the scales of my skin now drenched in perspiration.
`` Now get out of my sight before I decide to join you for the trip.''
I do. It will be a lonely voyage.
|
[ WP ] An outbreak has occurred of a virus that mimics a mild case of the common cold , but with one important side effect : those infected stop aging , permanently .
| I was one of the unlucky few. I was someone who did n't get the virus. I was assured that I would get it one day, but I never did. I was one of the unlucky 0.1 %. It seemed that the rest were going to live forever as these young beautiful angelic beings, at least those lucky enough to be infected in the right age range. Of course, for an unlucky few, not aging was a disaster. Children now in their 20s and 30s who looked like 5 or 10 year olds, desired intimacy, but it was hard to find and often terrifying when it was found. The vast majority of them committed suicide. Babies stopped eating and died a terrible death that way. Nearly every new child suffered this fate, and people stopped reproducing almost entirely.
My wife was inflicted when she was 28. She had always looked young and was still in her prime. She was a knockout, funny, and smart as can be. I was balding, gaining weight, and out of league when we started dating. Our marriage did n't last. Why should it have? She wanted something different, a younger man who could keep up with her. I ca n't say that I blame her.
There were other problems. People did n't seem to care about the future. I thought the opposite would happen, but I was wrong. Climate change remained unchecked, and it grew much worse. Mass shootings increased. After all, we were n't immortal. Every major city had a few a week. Countries warred with each other over nothing, and science became non-existent. I was n't sure what the problem was. I could n't understand how it had become like this. This was supposed to be the dawn of paradise, but it was a faux utopia.
Of course, the aging were a relic of past and of death and of what the non-aging wanted to avoid at all cost. There was strong discrimination against us. I was fired several times and beaten nearly to death twice. The world had become scary and for no good reason. Then, my kind, the aging, became totally hated. There was n't much reason behind this hatred of us except that we wanted society to get back to a healthy place. Science had died, and I feared humanity would die with it. I had been a neuroscientist before all of the grant money dried up and universities closed down. The non-aging did n't see a problem with all of the problems. I was worried about their brains, but maybe it was just a desire to have something to work on, something to be nostalgic about.
I wanted to look at a few fMRIs if there even were machines still functional around. It was a weird guilty pleasure, but it had been 40 years since the outbreak and 30 years since I had seen those amazing images. I wanted to see a few more before I died, well, before I was killed. I assumed that ending was more likely. I paid three non-aging a few hundred bucks each out of pocket after I found a working fMRI. I can honestly say it was the best day I'd had in 40 years. I looked at their brains, expecting to see healthy young brains, but that is not what I saw.
Their pre-frontal cortex appeared severely damaged along with their amygdala. I asked if they had experienced any pain, and they all complained of terrible headaches. I was scared then, but I assumed that I was wrong. This had been a mistake on my part. So, I searched for answers only to find that I was not wrong. It took two years to confirm it, but the non-aging began to die. Humanity was heading for extinction. I thought it had been dementia among a few of them with symptoms like Alzheimer's, but I was wrong. The virus was slowly damaging their brain until it would kill them, and humanity was doomed.
***
Three years later, only a few hundred thousand of us remain. All of us hating that we were so unlucky, and, now, we were humanity's only hope. The younger women are still fertile. Even I am still capable of siring a child. I thought I would be killed by non-agers only a few years ago, and, today, I am one of the remaining few members of humanity, and it is up to me to help humanity climb back on its feet. But, I am old as are many of us, but our brains are healthy. Humanity will survive.
***
Read more stories at r/nickkuvaas.
|
[ WP ] Outside the rough woolen walls of the tent the raging winds blew endlessly in the frigid darkness of night .
| The storm that had badgered and hindered them since arriving only got stronger with nightfall. Somehow they had managed to make camp, hunched down against the grit and dust, but a fire was out of the question so they went to bed cold with only cold provisions to stave off hunger, two in each tent.
That suited Fillyra just fine, she thought as she held Roahting close for warmth. Despite her aching back, legs, and calves, it made her smile to think of how Laxran and Darva could even fit in the other tent.
Even in her exhaustion, it was hard to sleep with the wind howling. Roahting didn β t seem to have that problem and had dropped off straight away. She closed her eyes and could barely hear his shallow breathing over the sounds of the storm outside the thin sides of the tent. He twitched slightly and she crossed her arms over his chest, holding him closer. His peaceful rest returned.
There was still so much road left to travel, she thought, then the thought echoed again with a different context. Had she known at the outset what a long journey this would be... No, she didn β t regret it. She would do it all over again, if given the chance.
What was it Roah had said that other night, around the fire? They all had different destinations with paths that wound together? Roah seemed certain that this destination they all shared would be his ultimate resting place, somehow. To Fillyra, that seemed defeatist, but she would never profess to understand the inner workings of his mind. And if it turned out to be his true end? She supposed she could take that destiny as her own. The alternative was unthinkable.
The lure of sleep at last got a hold of her, dragging her slowly down, away from the growling storm and even away from Roahting β s warmth. They all had their own destinations, she thought again as she drifted off. She would cross that bridge when she reached it.
****
*Yet another thing from /r/thewriteraleph*
|
[ WP ] You rent out a vacation home that you 've never been to for two weeks . Upon arrival , you find a photo album full of photos of previous vacationers at the home . Among the photos are you with people you 've never met in your life .
| He stared at the photo... At first he had glanced at it momentarily and continued flipping through the plastic film coated pages as if nothing was amiss- he was just nosing thru the album they left fo guess to write notes, comments or complaints ( one they said the bath towels were dingy... He remembered going into the bathroom to check out these so called dingy towels and thought to him at least, they did n't look dingy but he replaced them nonetheless so looking through this album/guess book since became a burden ) but then he flipped back. The photo was taken out on the deck, it appeared as if a party of sorts was taking place and a half dozen or so patrons gathered, arms around each other and posing for the snapshot... He did n't recognise any or the people except for the smiling fellow on the left of the group... He had his arm around an attractive brunette, but this fellow bore an extraordinary resemblance to himself. A shudder passed through him-not a shudder of maybe slight dejvue or like a nervous tremor/ freeze going through your nerves - but an all out knee- weakening hair raising shudder of disillusioned recognition of something he knew had to be true but could n't be. It was him.
|
[ WP ] In an alternate timeline , dinosaurs in the Eastern hemisphere are wiped out by the cataclysm , but those in the Americas survive the fallout . Millions of years later , a crew of European explorers land on the shore of the New World ...
| **Edit: Woah! Gold! Thanks kind stranger! I really did n't think this was worth gold. **
`` Land ahoy! β Was heard rising on the wind from the Crow β s nest. The ship β s sails heaved and turned as strong men started to pull on them. The ship rocked in the water as it steadily moved towards the faint outline in the distance, barely visible through the fog. From the bow of the ship, my face was splattered with icy drops of seawater as the wind ran by.
My ship, the ERV Majesty had been out at sea for nearly three months, heading westwards from the Empire in search of islands. We had found a plethora a while back, but had continued on to see what else we might find. So far, we had seen some other others, but stayed away because of giant birds.
The waves grew lighter as we moved closer to the land, and the wind seemed to be calming a little too. β Heave! Ho! β Came from behind me, on the deck, and I turned to look at them. Nothing important was going on over there, and I turned back towards the land.
β Captain! β A boy shouted, β Did ya hear that? β Henry, one of my mates, came running up next to me.
β Hear what? β I asked, over the blowing of the wind.
β I don β t really know, sir. Some kind of- β From the distance, a deep rumble washed over us, piercing our ears.
β That? β I asked Henry.
β Yeah, that. β He said, less enthusiastic, β Although that one was louder than before. β
β Birds! The birds are back! β Someone screamed, as the filthy birds came back. They were as ugly as before, with these terrible beaks and gray bodies without feathers. The worst part was their claws, which were huge and terrifying. The whole crew had grown to hate them over the trip, and their presence had become a sign of bad comings.
β Onwards! β I shouted, β Do not falter! We reach land first, then we can panic! β It was good to have humour out here, it was the only thing we could carry with us always.
But land was rapidly approaching, as the outline had already turned a physical mass. And the closer we got, the more land appeared.
β That β s not an islandβ¦ β Henry whispered.
β No, β I gulped, β Not at allβ¦ β We couldn β t be sure of that, but there was this feeling that just told us that. More birds were popping into the air, and the fog was starting to clear over.
The ship grew ever closer to the landmass, till before we were prepared, we were there. We banked on the shore, everyone staring wide-eyed at what we had come across. It wasn β t quite the land that kept us all in amazement and wonder however. Not so far away, walked gigantic creatures which I β d never seen anything like. They were scaled, it appeared, and had these huge bony tails.
β What are those Captain? β Henry asked me.
I glanced at him, and then the crew on deck. Everyone was looking at me, waiting for my answer.
β I don β t know. β I said, β But I β m ready to find out. Set the ramps, we β re going down! β
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[ WP ] Everyone in the world can choose when they get super powers . The longer you wait to claim your powers the stronger they are . Today is your one hundredth birthday , and you are finally ready to claim your powers .
| P o w e r.
A word so promising, so omnipotent that striving for it became the main goal for many, thousands of years ago. People who wanted to obtain it and were able to have been dominating earth, while those whithout power had to obey and knuckle under, thus creating a gap between the strong and the weak.
That gap was closed when genetic engineering went to far.
Everyone has sleeping abilities, hidden deep within their DNA, waiting to be unlocked. Things that go beyond human capabilities were suddenly in our everyday lifes - people running around at speeds that would make every marathon runner hide in shame, strength that could snap necks with two fingers, invisibility, flying, you name it.
I just wanted to see. Understand. *Feel. *
Physical prowess and power over others, those were the things these so called `` superpowers'' gave people. No matter what the release of the genetic boundaries brought to light, I did n't want it. I had always been a very smart person, no doubts with an IQ reaching over 150. Since I was a teenager, I have been able to imagine things so vivid and lifelike, hear songs in my mind as clear as if I had headphones on and grasp concepts of great complexity so easily that reality became somewhat boring. Knowing things is one thing... seeing and feeling them another.
Of course I was tempted. Even Steven Hawking admitted in a press conference that the possibility of restoring his body made him consider going through the process, even though in the end he decided against it.
`` I have been a man of mind instead of body for so long, it would n't make a difference now.''
He had been my idol for a long time - he had come as close to leaving his body behind for his great mind to work free as any human could have. However, there were still limits. I could n't leave my shell and be a ghost to witness what no human could - or should. My mind wanted something that was beyond *homo sapien sapien*.
**Transcendence. **
So I lived my life without those powers. Dedicating myself to researching whatever interested me, I gathered knowledge about everything I could. Space, Time, Biology, relativity and whatnot, even though it eventually grew stale.
My friends, my family helped me forget the void inside. But as they passed while I aged, I realized that nothing would ever sate my desire to become more than a mere human. I felt like I was born to be more.
When my father died, I made a decision. I would wait. And this time, I would wait for *something* instead of nothing. After researching the powers and talking to doctors and scientists who did the same, I found that the powers were not random or solely based on genes; They brought forth the very core of the individual, what made the what they are. Wrestlers and bodbuilders, who sought to be the strongest, were given inhuman strenght and endurance. Men and women bound to their bed or wheelchair, yearning to be part of the world again, to be free, learned to fly, walk and climb as they always wanted.
And those who lusted for destruction became a scourge of humanity. Incidents led to intense testing before anyone was permitted to perform the procedure.
When they tested me, they said I would likely gain strong mental powers, a third eye of sorts, maybe even longevit and bodily resilience on top of that - since I wanted to leave my body behind to become *more. *
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[ WP ] You die . You discover that in the afterlife , you 're stuck in purgatory and can not move on until you 're forgotton . ( x-post from r/writingprompt )
| It had been 70 years already. Being alive had been the best part of being. You got to experience life, you got to have choice, you had a voice and could use it to whatever whim you wanted! Now that he was down here, all that he could do was watch as the world went on above and around him, caught in his own thoughts. Turns out in purgatory, not only were you here until you were forgotten, you had to watch every mention of you that came up.
Back up there, he'd been a leader of men, a great motivator, even an established author. Down here, he was just another soul waiting to move on. You'd think after 70 years, people would move on. He was just one man after all. Had he really had that much of an impact on the world? Even so, the people that seemed to remember him and bring his name up would do it completely out of context. What did time travel and Satan have to do with him? Why was he constantly being compared to political figures that had done nothing compared to his triumphs? Why did they paint him as evil yet satire and parody him at every possible instance?
And there it came again, another mention. What was it this time?
[ Only a time traveling Adolf Hitler dressed as Batman can unravel the dark and mysterious secret behind the numbers that appeared over everyone's heads at Hogwarts. ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3aahgv/wp_only_a_time_traveling_adolf_hitler_dressed_as/ )
`` Mein Gott... Ist es mΓΆglich, mich wieder zu drehen?''
Adolf let out another sigh and continued to wait for the end...
|
[ WP ] There is a dead ... thing ... in your backyard .
| I lock the front door of my house as I walk in. I always lock the front door, it makes me feel safe. I place my keys in the bowl on the table and set my bag on the chair. The cat greets me as I wash my hands in the kitchen sink and rubs against my calves.
`` I've missed you'' I say to him, knowing he does n't understand or speak back.
I glance out the window as I'm drying my hands, and that's when I notice movement.
By the time it registers that I've seen anything at all it's gone. What was it? Must have gone behind a tree, I think. My curiosity is piqued and I scan the treeline for another sign, but nothing. Did I see anything in the first place? Maybe I'm just tired from the long day. That must be it.
Movement again. This time I'm sure of it. An animal of some sort, but I did n't get a good enough look. Too big to be a dog. Deer? Moose?
I want to investigate and take a step outside. It's colder than I thought it was. The wind beats against my face as I put my hood up and take a few steps out into the woods.
On the ground I notice a drop of blood. I move towards it, there's another one a few feet away, and then another. Something's hurt. I can feel my heart beating through my chest. I want to turn back now but I need to know what is out there. More blood. The drops are closer together than before. I come to a large oak tree, one I'm familiar with and fond of climbing, one that I've grown comfortable in. I'm far from comfortable now.
Around the tree I see it. Oh God.
`` help'' it croaks.
I ca n't. I panic. My vision starts blurring. I turn for home.
I start to walk.
I start to run.
I lock the back door of my house as I walk in. I always lock the back door, it makes me feel safe
|
[ WP ] An assassin falls in love with his/her target .
| There she was, leaning over the balcony, her back to him. She was wearing an elegant, flowing red dress and her brown hair was worn up. She looked even more beautiful than before.
Sven sighed. In all his years as an assassin, he had faced some moral dilemmas. Most of them were minor ones, and he had always been able to shrug them off. But this one was different.
Her name was Renee Statler, a young socialite from a wealthy family. But despite her wealth, she was generous. And despite her prestige, she was humble. And kind. And beautiful, oh so beautiful. But she had pissed somebody off, somebody with a lot of money who had contacted Sven and paid him to do a job. And Sven always did his job.
'Oh Renee!' Sven thought.'Why did you have to get on the wrong side of a crooked businessman, who decided that if he could n't have you, nobody could.'
Sven had weighed his options ever since he realized that he was falling for her. He could call off the job, but that would have him blacklisted from the business. He would probably have to go on the run, and would n't be able to get another decent contract for the rest of his life. Or he could go through with the job, and live with his deeds for the rest of his life.
Was it worth it, to kill an innocent person to protect himself and earn some money? Was it worth it, to let that person live and have his own life and reputation ruined. And even if he did spare Renee, Monroe would just hire someone else to do the job that Sven could n't. Someone who would n't have the qualms that Sven did.
As he stared through the doors at Renee absentmindedly observing the city below, a third option came to Sven. Monroe had contracted the hit. In order to cover his tracks he did n't involve anyone else. He had even contacted Sven directly. Monroe was the only one who wanted her dead. No one else would ever develop a reason to harm such a beautiful soul.
Sven took one last glimpse at her and turned around, heading for the stairwell. He walked with a new purpose in his step. There was a way out, a way that both he and Renee could survive. And while he may never have her, he could at least protect her.
A body would be delivered to the morgue tonight, but it would not be her's.
|
[ WP ] You found a way to send messages one day into the past . Today , the daily message from your future self failed to appear .
| I woke up and checked my phone, and I was welcomed with no new messages. I always send the text, 9 AM on the dot. There's an alarm specifically to remind myself. What the fuck happened today that made me unable to send a message?
I just have to be calm. I might not be dead, I could just be in the hospital. They take your phone from you, right? Too bad I ca n't send a text to the future, future me is always adamant on doing it himself. He's a prick.
Well, what did I have planned for today? Tuesday: Classes, work, then playing video games at home, as always. Obviously, something in this routine influenced the absence of the message. If i change my routine, that should change the outcome. Tomorrow, yesterday, I'll get the message. Now I just have to do something that I would never do. Off the the bar I go.
I wake up on the hallway outside my room, with my head hurting more than I thought was possible. I kept my eyes closed and haphazardly tried to reach for my phone, which seemed to have been left a few feet behind me. When I finally grabbed it and pulled it to my face, the phone lit up with 1 new message, as well as the time shown: 5:30 PM.
I opened the message, and there was only one line: `` Good luck with the hangover, lol.'' That guy's such an asshole.
|
[ FF ] Write a 3-8 sentence story where each sentence contains at least 2 lengthy clauses . Retell the same story using sentences that contain no more than 5 words each .
| Harry's head felt like the shredded cartilage inside the knee of the running back whom had caused the cause for Harry's head to hurt in the first place. It had been a sure thing, this bet. Harry knew he had to make it, and that it had to come through, because Harry had recently acquired a rather unpleasant medical diagnosis that was going to require all of his time, most of his energy and more money than he presently possessed. When the star running back's knee popped, causing him and Harry's hopes to go down heavily, Harry started hitting the bottle and did n't stop until he'd hit the floor. He was n't sure what he was going to do now, but he knew he needed to do something.
Harry was hungover. His head hurt, badly. Oh, that bet. How he needed that money. The doctor's news demanded it. But Harry's luck stayed true. The star fell, ruined things. Game over. Harry's money gone. The drinking helped. But it was no good. Harry needed a better plan.
|
[ WP ] You time travel 1000 years into the future to discover there is only one country . Canada .
| Jonathan stepped out of the time machine, smoke billowing from the bottom of the torpedo-shaped contraption.
After dusting himself off, he looked up. The world was nothing but a desolate husk of what it used to be.
The ground, once green and full of life, now replaced by cold dirt. Smog and smoke filled the air, putting a slight grey tint over everything.
After his eyes adjusted, he noticed multiple flags in the distance. All bore a maple leaf, blood red.
A lone Mountie emerges from the haze, looking calm and collected. He slowly raised his gun. The barrel was pointed strait at Jonathon's head, and suddenly, he pulled the trigger. The time traveler's cold, lifeless body fell to the ground, blood pooling ay his murderer's boots.
The Mountie holstered his pistol, looked down, and muttered one single word before disappearing again into the cold wasteland.
`` Sorry.''
|
[ WP ] Humans have stopped using sharp objects and bullets to kill . Describe what happens in a war .
| Marcus kneaded the bal in his hand. `` This is not just a game, this is war'' he thought as he warmed his hands for the upcoming fight. Next to him were the finest warriors America had to offer.
This battle would decide the conflict between America and China. Next to Marcus sat Zachary. Zachary cleaned his glasses one more time as the count-down started on the big screen.
Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six
William payed no attention to the count-down but instead was taking a last look at the notes Daerak had brought. SΓΈren looked at the crowd with confidence.
Five... Four.. Three... Two... One...
Welcome to the League of Legends.
|
[ WP ] The most unspeakable act has been committed . Someone has downloaded a car .
| `` *Muahahahahahaha! *''
It finally happened. The premonition of the internet has occurred. The act of transferring information over the internet into something tangible and working - the act of creating a perfect model and replica of something that existed on the internet.
`` I have done it! It is complete! Now, it's time for the fruits of my labor to be harvested!''
[ Download: READY ]
`` But what should be my first target? A pen? No. A high-end desktop perhaps? No.''
His face lighted up to the empty room as he was about to announce his first target.
`` I choose... A CAR! Yes, I shall download a car!''
To an outside observer, they would easily and quickly make the assumption that this person was completely insane. However, to him, it was simply the start of a new world.
[ Download: 1 % ]
`` Now, to wait and see the results.''
Cars are fairly large, so even with the fastest internet it would take several hours to complete. This did not deter the man, as he waited, staring at the glowing screen.
`` It begins...!!!''
[ Download: 13 % ]
The wait was agonizing, but if it worked it would all be worth it. The man tried to keep his interest on the download bar, but it faltered quickly.
[ Download: 24 % ]
He began playing with things around his desk, such as a pen. He began to twiddle his thumbs in anticipation for the download.
[ Download: 32 % ]
Eventually, he got tired and fell asleep. He dozed off in front of the glowing monitor, losing consciousness very quickly despite his best attempts to keep awake.
When he woke up, he looked at the download bar once more.
[ Download: 99 % ]
`` FINALLY! It is here! My car!''
The man was jumping around the room, ecstatic as he was finally near the coveted *car* he was working towards. However, as the download bar nearly ticked over, something unexpected happened.
[ Download: COMPLETE ]
[ BEEP ]
[ BEEP ]
[ BEEP ]
[ FATAL ERROR ]
`` What? No!''
The man did have plenty of tests beforehand to prevent this from happening, even with larger and more complex objects than a car. He started profusely sweating as he tried to exit the download screen to figure out what went wrong. As he exited, something greeted him.
*Did I hear you right? Did I hear you sayin'*
*That you're gon na make a copy of a car without payin'? *
*Come on guys! I thought you knew better do n't copy that floppy! *
|
[ WP ] We are visited by an advanced race of aliens . During peace talks it is discovered that the aliens ' life spans are approximately 4 of our planet 's days .
| The committee of aliens stood before our own respective committee of UN ambassadors. They were each around eight feet tall, and the yellow pupils of what appeared to be their seven eyes stared at us intently. They began to speak in a low mumbling sound, and our translator who has worked to understand their language began to relay the message.
Keep in mind this was the second of the peace talks.
`` We are prepared to make peace with your people. Significant time has passed, and there is no reason for further hostilities. We admit that we are held back somewhat by our culture. For seven generations we have built up a deep hatred of humankind, but we hope we can stop that with enough time.''
I interjected.
`` But wait, you said in our first peace talks four weeks ago that you were previously unaware of our existence!''
Our translator expressed my words, and was soon met with a response from the aliens representative.
`` Yes, exactly. Four weeks. Seven generations.''
I looked at the translator in confusion.
`` Are you sure you're translating this correctly?''
The translator got a nervous look in his eyes.
`` Actually, I do n't know this language at all. I'm just faking it.''
`` WHAT?!''
The entire UN committee was in uproar.
`` Who hired this guy?''
One short man with thick glasses stepped forward.
`` I... I hired him.''
`` Why?''
`` Well, he had the credentials as a good translator. They even used him at Nelson Mandela's funeral to translate into sign language!''
Again, the UN committee burst into uproar.
Unfortunately, the aliens took this as a sign that we wanted to continue war. They took out their weapons and ran into the uproar themselves.
And that, class, is how I, your professor, wound up being the only survivor in the Great Manvlirian Peace Talks Massacre of 2025. All due to one idiot and one bigger idiot.
Class dismissed.
|
[ WP ] The distant ancestors of a planet-born race return to their home system to watch the sun finally go out .
| They lost everything.
Moved on, settled down all across there little galaxy. And lost everything again. There little planet, covered in swamps and oceans, long ago stripped down to a husk of its former self. The surface still marked with the glitter of the Sher'tuls vast development. Or at least, was. The sun at which it orbits swallowed it whole, few escaped from the disaster, but now the barren system is a pilgrimage. Millions used to visit the area. But long ago the star grown unstable. Noone would be able to come close, for a thousand years. It became a taboo. That you would be smited down. Eventually it shrunk to a small little white dwarf. Forgotten. Lifeless. Stripped away of anything interesting long ago. But. The moon of the forgotten planet, long ago flung away. Still sits.
A single scout discovered the dead system and the dead memory. Two weeks later, the pilgrimage started again. They brought guests as well. Man came along to mourn with them. A hundred years later, the pale white sun turned to a blackened dwarf. Made of carbon. Diamond, that sparkled in the light. It gave no light, and they moved on. They still mourned the tens of billions that died.
|
[ wp ] humanity has wiped out all life on the surface after a thermonuclear war , leaving only deep sea bacteria , overtime , this evolved into land animals , then sentience , one day , a member of this new species discovers the remains of the old world
| VORAL IMPERIAL HERALD
VERDICT REACHED IN TRONTH HERESY TRIAL
> A verdict was reached today in the heresy trial of Camda Tronth of Pra Province. Tronth has been held in custody for the last fourteen months while Holy Prosecutors have perused Tronth β s journals to determine the extent of his treason. After three days of deliberation, Tronth has been found guilty and has been sentenced to life in prison. Observers widely expected the guilty verdict, but many believed that the prosecutors would be successful in their goal of a death penalty for Tronth.
> Ultimately, the defense was successful in convincing the Holy Judge that although the full body of Tronth β s personal journals and notebooks include enough heretic material to warrant a death penalty, the majority of this material was not included in his controversial paper. The defense successfully argued that only material included in the paper was ever intended for mass consumption, and should therefore be the only basis for his sentence.
> Tronth rose to infamy early last year when he submitted for publishing a paper entitled β Evidence for a Past Race. β The paper made the case that before the Gods created the Voral Empire, a species of bipedal animals lived and ruled the planet. This paper was deemed heresy, as it contradicts Holy Imperial Doctrine stating that the Gods created Vorals as their singularly favored species on the planet.
> In addition to his life in prison sentence, the Holy Judge has ordered all of Tronth β s journals be destroyed immediately to avoid the risk of this heresy being spread. Because several of these journals and notebooks were entered into the record during trial proceedings, the Holy Judge has ordered the court records be sealed. To avoid the spread of his heresy to jailors, the Holy Judge has ordered Tronth β s tongue be removed prior to incarceration. Any remaining copies of Tronth β s paper are to be added to the list of Apocryphal Works. Possession of such documents shall be punishable at the discretion of a Holy Judge.
|
[ WP ] After a serious accident , you discover you have developed super strength when in physical contact with another human . Now you must discover how to control this power and the resulting situations in which you find yourself .
| On that fateful day when I thought I was about to lose everything, it had been raining. Huge puddles along the side of the road, making those miniature ponds you had to jump over if you did n't want to get your socks wet. There was a lot of traffic at the commercial part of the town and I was there on the corner standing in front of my own little pool of rainwater.
My infant son Oliver, who was in the baby carrier strapped to my body, quietly snoozed away against my chest. The two of us were returning from the corner store to get some coffee and food for my wife Linda at her office. It was going to be a small surprise. Two brown bags in and two coffees in one hand and an umbrella in the other. It was like the beginning of an act and the show was about to begin.
I waited for the light to say `` Walk'' on the busy intersection. I knew I should've just gotten the carriage, but it was too late now and I looked like a fat fool with my jacket zipped over Oliver for some extra protection. But fortune was with me and I had crossed the last street with my feet still dry. I only had to cross one more street to get on the block where the office was.
My wife had always been toiling away at her small law firm. She was always there even when she had been pregnant with Oliver. It was n't another week after he was born when she went straight back. I had asked for her to take a longer hiatus but that would've meant the possibility of losing clients.
The light switched green and I tried to tip toe across the large puddle. My foot sank down to my ankles and I immediately felt the water rush into my shoes. Quickly I stretch my other leg out to get as much distance as I could but that was also a terrible attempt as my last dry pair of socks got soaked. With water logged jeans I just gave up and walked through it.
`` Hey! Watch OUT!'' Someone screamed.
I instinctively turned to see who it was and instead my eyes locked onto a truck. It must have been halfway down the block already and moving fast. It was headed for us, swerving left and right until it lost its balance and flipped over and started rolling and I could've sworn it just sped up from there.
I reacted too late. The shock wore off longer than it should have and I might have been able to get away. So my mind instead went to its last resort. I dropped everything and curled into a protective ball over my son. Arms around his head and the carrier, legs and head tucked as I hunched over. He was still sleeping and I was glad for that at least.
The last thing I saw was the red pick up falling on top of us, roof first.
I awoke to blaring sirens, looking upwards at a grey sky, drops of rain falling on my face. I could n't move my head from the neck brace and tried my best to look around. I saw to my side EMTs pushing the stretcher I was on. It was being pulled away from a wreckage of the pick up, firefighters trying to carve at the metal to get to someone inside. There was a crowd gathered and police officers keeping a perimeter.
And then I heard the cries of a baby.
`` Oliver?'' I was hoarse. And tried to move from my binds. `` Oliver!''
The EMTs realizing that I was awake tried to control me and tell me that my son was okay but I was n't listening. I had to see for myself. I tried to violently shake out of the stretcher but there was a prick in my arm and I was out again.
People said it was some kind of a miracle. It made the newspapers and online headlines. There was even a video of it going viral. Most were attributing it to a parent getting `` Superhuman'' strength to protect their young. But I remember feeling the complete opposite of that. When I held onto my son I only prayed that he would at least make it and felt so powerless than I had ever had in that single moment.
The truck that hit us had a dent in the roof. It was a human sized dent and it was the reason the rescue workers could n't reach the driver in time. The doctors told me that my body only suffered mild contusions and Oliver was completely unscathed. It truly was a miracle like everyone was saying.
Linda had come in minutes later a total mess, her eyes red and make-up ruined, not knowing what became of us. When she saw me and Oliver it was joy, anger, and joy again. The thought of losing the two of us in an instant so close by was almost too much for her.
-- -
Now I sit outside my house a few years later in the back of an ambulance being treated for second degree burns. There is soot covering my body and I look at the massive hole on the side of our home. Brick and mortar lay on the front lawn and even the street. The rest of the house is a blackened mess from the fire and the firefighters were putting out the last of the flames. It had happened *again*.
There were reporters there already. They were n't here for me but for Linda. She was in the ambulance nearby with Oliver. No burns on either of them.
She was the one who had found and grabbed Oliver but the ceiling had collapsed blocking the hall to the room they were in. Separating us was also a huge pit where the floor had given away and the fire was spreading throughout the house at an alarming rate. I made an attempt to try and jump through the flames but my clothing caught fire and the searing pain force me to turn back. After retreating a safe distance, the black smoke filled up the room and halls impairing my view of them. I had to try one more time.
*Thud* *THUD* *CRACK! *
I thought it was more of the building collapsing. Then I remembered the incidents in the recent years. Hesitant, I quickly found a window and climbed out. I ran around the house to the lawn where Linda was hunched over coughing and spitting. I rushed over to her and Oliver who was safely sitting on the lawn crying. I picked him up and brought Linda to her feet and led them further away from the house. As we ran down the lawn, I looked back to see the shattered wall where she had created a hole. It was billowing black smoke and the fire was already consuming the rest of the room inside.
I knew that neither of us had superpowers at all but after Linda doing that to the house, it only proved my theory.
After the truck accident I tried to lift heavy things on my own. Then with Oliver. No results. I tried to do a lot of stupid things, away from harm. But no super powers at any of those times either. I assumed that the only way I could do anything like that again was if my son and I were in real danger. Something that I was never going to attempt try.
It was a month after the truck accident when the phenomenon started. Before the `` Super Dad'' news began to die down there was another accident. It was on the highway and the helicopters covering it recorded a mother tearing off her SUV's doors with one hand and with the other, pulling her children out of the car.
A week later a gunman attempted to rob a bank. An old man was there protecting his son, the both of them originally there to open an account together. He took several pistol rounds point blank in an attempt to shield his son and suffered only mild injuries. He was still alive and perfectly healthy. His son was also 32 years old.
This was n't concentrated in one place either, it was all over the world. A family in Switzerland was out skiing until an avalanche occurred and took everyone on the slopes with it including them. There were fatalities but the parents and everyone of their children survived. They had dug their way out from under several meters of snow.
After more news breaking stories, parents were officially considered superheroes. Even the countless families who never found any danger. But now every one of them knew that their children were safe as long as they were there with them.
|
[ WP ] `` He ran his fingertips across the smooth surface of the picture . ''
| He ran his fingertips across the smooth surface the picture, now ripped by the destruction. The boy cried, his parents were gone. No, he could n't cry could he? He thought, `` I mean I'm fourteen I should be strong.'' He wandered around his demolished house looking for other salvageable items. He sighed as he found the baseball mitt he had gotten his father two short years before. It felt like a lifetime now, he remembered the days were they played nothing but catch and baseball. He sat down looking at the glove with content. He smiled, about to call his father for another game lost in the moment, then remembered. He wept and said a small prayer. Then he sprung to his feet and lifted his feet up in the air rising. He knew he had this power, he just never knew the pure force of it. He looked final look at the house he had ran into earlier this morning, then, flew away swiftly. A tear hit the ground as he flew.
|
[ WP ] Cthulhu awakens and takes over the world . However , he disappoints his constituency when he does n't deliver the mass insanity and chaos that he promised .
| `` Do n't blame me! I voted for Loki.''
It was the fifth such bumper sticker I saw today. The important difference, though, was that the vehicle bearing it was property of Miskatonic University, traditionally viewed as one of Cthulhu's most dedicated strongholds above the waves. And so it was, once. But now sentiments were rising against the Great Old Ones and the Outer Gods alike.
`` He Has Returned, but is the Great Dreamer Still Half-Asleep?''
They said he was a destroyer, bringer of chaos and madness, but nobody really feared criticizing him, even in widely-published newspapers, no matter how fervently they insisted they were terrified to do so.
It was similar with others among the Great Old Ones and the Outer Gods. Shub-Niggurath, `` the black goat of the woods with a thousand young,'' was rarely seen in the presence of more than 50 or 60 young at a time. She was a dark gray more than black, and could be heard bleating away within 100 meters of the forest edge quite often; every time she tried to go in there, she got scared and lost at the same time, and many were the time one of her prophets had to go lead her back out again. It was a disgrace.
Nyarlathotep the Faceless God, reputed to be unimaginably cruel and a deceiver of great skill, especially with music, turned out to be a more run-of-the-mill jackass who knew three chords on the guitar. Attempting with smooth words and clever tricks to lure men and women to their doom plays well in legend, but reality saw him lurking around bars at closing time begging drunk women to talk to him. It did n't take long for one sub on Reddit to dox him, for which the sub was banned, but after which Nyarlathotep could n't even find sanctuary in his own home. Rather, in the basement of his dad Azathoth's house. Ethics have played no role in Nyarlathotep's decision-making, and he has been spotted with what appear to be roofies and ecstasy pills he uses for extra advantage with the ladies for when begging fails him. In other words, every time.
`` I'd love to hang with you guys again,'' one girl was heard to say while leaving a party Nyarlathotep was attending, and where he had stared at her most of the night without ever approaching her. `` Next weekend, sure,'' she added. At this Nyarlathotep told a fellow party goer, `` Dude she totally wants to get with me.''
`` I'll come, but please make sure that creepy Nyarlathotep is not there. I hate that guy. Who names their kid Nyarlathotep anyway?''
Nyarlathotep -- who has since been insisting everyone call him Ian -- fled that party in tears. The news media has been relentless trying to connect Nyarlath... er, Ian... to Great Cthulhu beyond the known fact that they are distant relatives.
When asked for comment, Cthulhu would only say, `` I am Great Cthulhu! Now people are calling me Mediocre Cthulhu thanks mostly to that damned Nyarlathotep. I refuse to call him Ian. That's just a phase, like when he decided he was allergic to gluten even though he never tried wheat products anyway.''
Cthulhu -- who has been caught misspelling his own name on some official documents -- is organizing more madness and chaos as best he can. In the tide pools, one can find octopi waving their tentacles about maniacally for a while, to the great entertainment of onlookers. Most octopi only stay at it a couple hours before swimming off, bored, considering taking up work as a sign spinner instead. As a result, the manic tentacle wigglers and the crowds gathering to watch the chaos and madness have all declined in number dramatically since Cthulhu's return.
Cthulhu's most loyal followers have consulted reputable texts to learn where it all went wrong. The Necronomicon by mad Arab Abdul Alhazred ( in more recent times re-translated as the Book of the Dead by Angry Person A.A. ) seems to hold no clues.
`` Vote for Thor in 2028. At least he knows how to speak!'' The slogans for anyone buy Cthulhu were already beginning to appear, and it was only March 2025.
|
[ WP ] : When you died you find out that souls are put up for auction for various religions to bid upon . When you are present on the block , a bidding war started that has not been seen in millennium and you do not know why every religion wants your soul .
| I had never thought of myself as interesting. In fact, I think if forced to give an honest account, I'd have to describe myself as perfectly normal and completely uninteresting, a vapid man. My bodily measurements were perfectly average. Average American white caucasian male height ( 5'9'' ), weight ( 195.5 lbs ), body composition ( a little on the doughy side ), BMI ( 29 ), blood pressure ( 120/80 ), etc. I bought the latest fashions, sure, and watched the latest blockbuster, and listened to the latest music, but I do n't know if I ever had an original thought or opinion in my life. I never even bothered voting because I did n't know nor care about any of the candidates or issues. I think I may have once said I preferred the color blue, but that hardly counts as having an opinion on something.
And yet, I had suddenly appeared at an auction, and the bidding was hopping. Completely out of the ordinary, and a wee bit disorienting, seeing as I'd been in a hospital bed only moments before. I figured I should get a bead on what was going on. I had no intention of actually bidding, since it was n't in my budget for the month, but I hated being confused for too long, and so I turned to the man standing next to me.
`` Excuse me?'' I asked the bearded, robed figure to my right.
`` Yes, James Smith. What is it?'' he replied.
`` Well, I was wondering what is going on, exactly.''
`` Oh, well, you died a bit ago. 76 years old of prostate cancer. You see, when you die, you get auctioned off to a diety or other religious personage. My name is Pluto, and over there is Hermes. He's my auctioneer. You happen to be next on the auction block, and I've got to tell you, we're all pretty excited. You may set a record today!''
`` A record? What sort of record? Why would I set it?''
`` A record bid, of course! You're one of a kind, James!''
`` I am? I... I never really thought of myself as being special. What's so special about me?''
`` I wish I could explain, but its time for the next item. Which is you. Come on!''
I followed him out onto the floor, where they had a tan metal folding chair for me to sit on. As I sat, Pluto began to thunder, `` My friends! Today we have a very special soul for bid. This is James Smith, and in this lifetime he was a perfect blank slate. Let me repeat, James is a perfect blank slate! We've seen nearly unblemished souls before, and you know what you can do with such impressionable, unmolded souls. They're putty in a master's hands, able to be made into just about anything. James here is practically liquid, he's solidified his form so little. If you need a new prophet, a messiah, a miracle worker, whatever you need, I'm confident James here can fill the bill. Without further ado, let the bidding begin!''
Hermes then started talking a mile a minute. `` We'll start the bidding at 1000 souls, Buddha will take 1000, Baal raises to 10000, Thor with 100000, do I hear a million, folks, anyone for a million...''
`` 10 billion!'' came a shout from the back. The crowd groaned and sighed. Apparently the bidder had knocked quite a lot of people out of the running before they'd even been able to get in on the bidding.
`` 10 billion to Allah, going once, going twice...''
`` 20 billion,'' came a voice both quiet and yet distinct.
`` 20 billion to Yahweh... going once, going twice...''
`` I will empty hell for this one. Every. Single. Soul.'' said a grotesque figure to the left, with horns on his head and a spiked tail. Each `` S'' was emphasized with a chilling hiss. The crowd gasped, and everyone turned to look at the speaker. `` I think I'll take James Smith now. I checked before today, and that is the highest possible bid at this moment, I've been saving up for a while.''
`` Sold! Item 666 to the devil!'' cried Hermes.
Pluto stood up and shook hands with the winner as he came to claim me. `` Let us know the exact number of souls in your possession within the hour, Lucifer, and have them delivered by the same time tomorrow. You've definitely set a record with that bid, though. What do you plan to do with him?''
The guy who had bought me had changed appearance since his last bid, and now might best be described as the most beautiful man ever. I was a little distracted by his radiance, but I did catch his answer.
`` I'm going to make him into my beast, my prophet, and he'll help refill hell's coffers a million times over. He's perfect.''
( note: I have no idea how many people have been adherents of each religion. The numbers were just thrown out there at random )
|
[ WP ] Write the lowest point of a much larger story .
| *shit*
*ouch*
*fuck*
I stopped moving and stood up. I brushed the dirt and rocks off my clothes and felt my head. Only a little bit of bleeding. Does n't feel too major.
I saw a strem nearby. I walked into it and washed myself off a bit. It's something.
I looked up around me to see where I was.
The sun beat down on the sand all around me. The stream flowed from somewhere far in the distance. I turned my head and saw the walls of rock on each side of me.
I still had a bit or wordplay left to mutter, `` at least I can only go up from here.''
|
[ WP ] Kid 's imaginary friends are actually past life versions of themselves trying to fix issues they during their lifetime .
| Genghis Khan paced back and forth with long strides, tugging his long black goatee, sometimes twirling his long thin mustache.
`` I say we burn it down, loot and pillage and slaughter their sons and enslave their women.''
Churchill frowned as he sipped from his cup of tea, and cast a glance to the burly black man sitting across him, towering above both even when seated. `` Khan, for bleeding fucking sake, he's trying to find a job, not slaughter their whole town.'' Genghis stopped and stared. `` What does Tom want?'' He asked, stooping low so his face hovered before Churchill's.
`` I want you to brush your teeth, that's what we all want, jesus, Khan, what have you been eating? Your breath stinks worse than that of my wife in the morning.''
Genghis grinned, baring yellowed rotten teeth. `` Raw rabbitmeat and roots - and your teeth are n't much better, ugly man'' Churchill frowned and lit the cigar he was now pursing in between his lips, mumbling some vaguely audible swear involving intercourse with horses. Thick brown smoke filled the air as he started puffing away.
`` Fuck, Church, I told you I do n't want those nasty cigars being smoked, I swear, they make me feel like I'm short of breath.'' Churchill took a deep puff and raised his eyebrows. `` We've have to endure your endless smoking of that herb as well, let a gentleman enjoy his cigar.''
Genghis snickered. `` Maybe if he did not smoke as much of the pungent herb and sniff the white powder, he would not be seeing shadows in the walls.'' I glanced at Khan angrily, who grinned even wider now. `` I'm raping you in the ass verbally, am I not''
Even Churchill sniggered. I looked back angrily at the screen, clicking violently. `` He ca n't stand the truth'' Churchill said rather plainly, taking the cigar out of his mouth, watching the tobacco smoulder. `` I ca n't help it.'' I said `` It was in my genes, I knew that when I googled it and read about it. I just checked the boxes. I could n't have stopped it.''
Genghis Khan put his hand on my shoulder and clicked his tongue. `` Tsk tsk'' he clicked `` we know. We're your brain's subconsciousness, after all.'' I felt heaviness set down upon my heart. `` I know'' I muttered `` I never had a chance though, did I.'' `` Fuck you and your broken English'' I snapped.
Churchill tapped some ash on the forehead of the burly black man, who did n't seem to care. He'd been looking over my shoulder at the screen solemnly and silently for a while now. `` The drugs certainly did n't help it, obviously. You knew it was coming when you started hearing people calling your name when it was silent. You saw the shadows in the corner of your eye, heard your friends voices talking in your head.'' He heaved a heavy sigh. `` Yet you kept doing it. You did n't listen to the psychiatrist when she offered you rehab.''
I stopped scrolling, and stared down at the keyboard. Churchill was right, and I knew it. I knew they were n't there, that if I'd reach out to touch them, they'd vanish until my mind conjures them again.
`` What are you googling Tom'' the burly black man asked kindly. `` I'm finding a job.'' I said `` I do n't want to work in a restaurant again though, I really hated the stress. But maybe if I do, I can afford university and still make something of my life.''
The burly black man sighed sadly. `` Yeah, maybe you can. One day. You'll be big.'' I grinned `` I'll show them. Prove my dad wrong.'' `` Alright, but computer time is over. Back to bed.''
I rose to my feet, and shoved my office chair away from the desk, rolling over the floor, snickering. The nurse leaned over and closed all reddit tabs but one.. `` [ WP ]...''
|
[ WP ] You commit a murder and are called into jury duty for someone who is wrongfully accused of your crime .
| Getting the letter in the mail felt like i had a guardian angel with a hell of a sense of humour. Two emotions came rushing through me nearly slamming me to the floor. Relief, as it seems any suspicion of my guilt had been wiped clean by this government issued letter. Then the unforgiving head of anxiety reared itself as my mind drilled myself with a plethora of potential outcomes and possible consequences from attending the court case of my own homicide. Overwhelmed, i sat down and took a long swig of the jack on the rocks and lit up a cigarette. The sunrise over the distinct skyline of Los Angeles from my Hills balcony that i had looked at countless times once again did well to clear my head. Slamming my glass of bourbon onto the table i came to a conclusion. I could not afford to further inhibit my chances of emerging clean from committing the perfect crime. I would attend this jury duty and find out every single intricate detail i could. I mean how many criminals get to see the prosecution from the eyes of the jury?
And as the cross examination took place i began to see exactly why this was a extreme rarity, an anomaly.
|
[ WP ] 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 .
| Humanity's solution was space-folding. The problem is that in the folding process, anything along the `` crease'' is annihilated utterly. The most difficult part of the process was mapping an infinite trajectory in opposite directions and seeing to it that nothing of value was along this line. This inevitably led to problems; on one occasion, by chance two foldings intersected, wherein it was discovered that an entire 2D plane of our existence was destroyed. Apparently, major celestial bodies do not like having their continuity interrupted, and this causes them to re-coalesce into separate celestial bodies. The eggheads seem to think this is due to some interruption in some fundamental force of physics being discontinued for an infinitesimally brief but relevant length of time, but most people think they're full of crap and just guessing.
The other problem is that objects perpendicular to the fold at vast distances from the fold are slammed together along the hyperplane. Imagine two stars being slammed together from opposite ends of the galaxy within the 120-second duration of the folding event... literally impossible speeds. This really pisses off some other species whose nighttime skies are being polluted by intense flashes of light, to say nothing of how miffed the inhabitants of those systems might tend to become...
As the humans' foldings became more frequent, their territory has become a veritable origamy crane of hyperdimensional confusion. Travel within their territory is inadvisable at this time. Apparently their big thing now is to `` loop'' the fold upon itself, which allows interdimensional travel, but in unpredictable ways. Heaven, Nirvana, Acheron, Blathezuuh, Dave's Dimension, and Gweeguooiton 7 are now spilling into this reality, causing quite a mess. Dave is such an asshole. He stole the Ring Nebula, and is jackassing around wearing the Mexican Hat Galaxy and eating all of the tacos in the known universe. Jerk did n't even offer to pay.
|
[ TT ] Some years ago , the concept began of reverse revenge : elaborate , drawn-out plots to reward someone for a good deed .
| DAMN IT. F\*\*\*ing Todd brought donuts to the office again. Of course he did! Did we ask for donuts? No. Was today a holiday? No. Did we eat the donuts? Maybe. But thats beside the point! Now that *Todd* brought donuts someone has to Egnever him. And of course it's ME, like always. Because I'm his `` friend'', and everyone else is `` busy'', and supposedly `` I ate half of the donuts before anyone else got a chance to eat them.'' I did **not** eat half of the donuts! It was **at most** a third! Yet for some reason I still have to Egnever Todd. It's company policy. You get fired if you do n't Egnever. That policy was put in place our `` visionary'' CEO, Gill Bates. He says it's to promote `` Healthy, friendly, relationships between coworkers.'' What a bunch of baloney.
How am I even supposed to Egnever Todd? I do n't even know what he likes! I suppose I'll ask him. Using the PA, `` Hey, Todd! Could you step into my office for a moment? Now.'' Not a minute later I hear him knock on the door. `` Come in.''
`` Hi, sir, did you want to talk about something?''
`` Yes, Todd. Sit down. As part of a company wide survey, I want to know if you have any complaints about your current state of work.''
`` Well, sir, I think my office is a bit small. It feels cramped whenever I'm in it. Other than that, no. I absolutely love working here.''
Of course he did. Todd never has a single complaint, his life is soo*ooo* perfect. God, I hate him. `` Really, nothing else?''
`` No sir!''
`` Alright, back to work Todd.''
Ok. Bigger office. I quickly pull up the floor map to see what room Todd is currently in, and which rooms are bigger. Alright, Todd is room 103, which is... The **second biggest** room on this floor!? Fine the, Mr. `` My room is slightly cramped'', let's see which room we will move you into. The first biggest office on this floor is...
My.
Office.
**OF COURSE IT IS**. That's just the kind of thing Todd would do. Bring donuts to the office, so I eat them, so I'm then forced to Egnever him, and then complain about his `` slightly cramped office'' so I have to switch offices with him! GOD, I hate Todd.
But of course that wo n't be enough, I have to actually move all the stuff in the offices. Move all *his* stuff to *my* office, and move all *my* stuff to *his* office. And I ca n't let him know about it until this is all done. Alright, I'll get an intern to switch the stuff while I take Todd to lunch. `` Hey, Jessica?''
`` Yes, Mr. Smith?''
`` I'm going to go to lunch with Todd. I need you to move all of his stuff to my office, and all of my stuff to his office while I'm out. Got it?''
`` Yes sir. Sounds like a fun Egnever.''
`` Shut up Jessica.''
*****
`` Wow, sir, this is really, very kind of you. Taking me out to lunch. What did I do to deserve this?''
You know damn well what you did Todd. `` Well, Todd, you have been performing exceptionally in the office for the past few days. Consistently arriving on time, and meeting all your deadlines. Oh, and those wonderful donuts you brought.''
Before Todd could open his mouth, and spout more bullshit, the waiter interrupted, `` Your check, *monsieurs*.''
Todd, being so damn *perfect*, quickly responded with `` Oh, let's split the check.''
`` Nonono, let me pay. I insist.'' **What the HECK am I even saying! ** That's an extra $ 50 out of my money! I bet Todd did n't even spend that much on those crappy donuts!
*****
We got back to the office, and luckily Jessica had finished the switch. `` Well, Todd, I've got one more thing for you. You now have my office.''
His face lit up with joy and surprise. Ha. As if I'd fall for that. I knew this was his plan from the very start. He was n't surprised at all. F***ing Todd, with his donuts, and his perfect life. My thoughts were interrupted when he started to talk again, `` Oh thank you so much sir. I do n't know if I could ever repay you.''
Then a slightly smug grin spread across his face, `` Hey, wait a second. That meeting earlier was n't about a company survey, was it? You wanted to know how you could repay me for the donuts! Figures, you ate so many of them.''
**I did not eat that many! ** `` Yes, Todd. You're right again. Have fun in your new office.''
After far too many `` Thank you sir'' s, Todd finally left. I sulked down the hallway to my new office. Todd was right. It was cramped. I hated it. God, I hate Todd.
( Third write, Hope you like it! )
|
[ WP ] In the near future , all weapons come with a new safety feature : the operator must be smiling for the weapon to work .
| He was standing there just like I remember him on a designer clothes and an expensive watch on his wrist. He didn β t recognized me when I walked in the door. Why will he? To him I was just another conquest on a drunken stupor. A girl he showed a good time. But that is not the way I remember that night, I remember him stripping me from my clothes and throwing me on the bed regardless of me saying no. I can still feel his hands on my throat as he forcefully penetrated me. I have waited for this moment since I left that hotel room naked and bruised. A girl will never forget her first. He damaged me and now he was going to pay. I grabbed the gun and pointed at him. He looked confused at first. He must of thought I was bluffing. But the confusion quickly changed to fear when I smiled at him. Bang.
|
[ WP ] You β ve bought/acquired a very typical object , and it somehow proceeds to ruin your life .
| I winced as an immense crash shook the room. How long would this continue? Another resounding explosion echoed through the room, dust falling onto my shoulders and caking my hair. I did n't budge, as if the blanketing dust could cover and fill the shame and sadness that is the empty void of my mind. Just yesterday, the sun shined bright, and now....did the sun even exist anymore?
***
`` Hurry up, Joe,'' she spat with derision, only half-jokingly. She walked past me briskly, heels clicking on the wood paneling, her lustrous dark hair whipping me as she passed. She gave me a sidelong glance, her eyes, such brilliant green eyes, wrinkled in exasperation and frustration.
`` Ok ok I'm coming,'' I replied, kneeling down once more. I reached as far as I could, grasping air, sweeping my hand further and further as far as I could reach. I jerked my head up on accident, hitting the bed frame and eliciting a loud yelp as I fell backwards onto my butt.
`` I swear, Joe, you're such a klutz.'' She had disappeared and reappeared with a broom, and kneeled down with grace and swept back and forth. The glasses rolled across the floor and I picked them up, perching them on the bridge of my nose. I turned to sheepishly thank her, but she's already gone. I sighed. There was a time of smiles, sunshine, and the ecstasy of youth, had it been that long ago?
I crouch into the car, wary of the low entryway. She's already on the phone, tapping away furiously. There was no greeting, not even a nod of my driving, or existence. I sighed internally and adjusted the mirror and chair, reclining it way more than she likes. She would always argue that it obstructed the view of the sideview mirrors, but I argued for comfort.
I began driving, passing the Mcdonalds, Zaxbys, and the myriad other suburban fast food places. We stop at a light and I glance over at her, still typing away. We pull into the lot finally, and she visibly perks up a bit. I turn the engine off and begin to leave the car, but she's already out the door and walking into the building. What happened to the girl that would wait for me so she could cling to my arm?
I may have hated her cooking ( or at least told her jokingly ), abhorred traffic, and despised cockroaches, but what got my blood boiling was noise. Unregulated, random, shrieking noise. I brace myself and slink into the building and was met with a roaring wall of cacophonous shrieks and barks. My nose was assaulted by unwashed fur, dandruff and hair like the orcs at Helms Deep.
Animals everywhere lie in every position, some barking as if to spite me, others shrinking from me as I walk around. Eventually I find her, squatting next to a perfectly white dog. Even kneeling in heels and a dress she looked sophisticated and poised, shedding ten years off of her apparent age. She looked up as I approached and when she saw my face, scowled, and shot me a withering glance that screamed *you wanted this*.
I crouched beside her, staring at the dog, watching it playfully lick and bite her fingers. My own youth was mirrored in this dog, its energy and innocence something I've long forgotten...
She tugged at my shoulder and pointed, eyes gleaming, the most emotion I've seen from her in a long while. I stare at the dog, its stupid face panting and tail wagging. I nodded slowly, in defeat.
***
We named her Kasper. Sort of like Casper the friendly ghost, with a small twist. She bounded off our walls like a white snowball of pure energy, and cuddled with her often. But something was off. It was only the second week, but we found the dog drooling heavily. We took her in to a vet, and they said she'll grow out of it. For some reason the dog hated me, and acted as if I did n't exist, but of course loved *her*.
I did n't complain, and a few more weeks passed. I was reading one day when I hear a faint moan and a crash in the kitchen. I sprint there only to find her collapsed on the ground, the door open. She was n't breathing, the dog nowhere to be seen. I call 911.
***
She's dead. How could she be dead. She was alive. I never told her how much I needed her in my life, how much I loved her, what our wedding day meant to me. And now she's *gone*. I did n't deserve this. No one deserves this.
***
A mysterious virus has killed half a million people. everyone is panicking. the government has tried to calm us down, but we know the truth. I know the truth. I took a vial of the dog's saliva to a lab. There's an unknown virus. In that saliva. The dog is missing. I have n't told anyone.
***
it's chaos. People are dying. I loved her. I never got to say goodbye.
***
they took her from me. i kill them. eat them. dogs. man's best friend? man's worse enemy.
***
tHey b0mb mi hous. wat r they hopin to accomplish. *they* rule the world. hateful, demon spawn. *LEAVE ME*
|
[ WP ] Laws of physics are created and repealed based on majority vote .
| `` All in favor for decreasing gravity to 8 m/s^2 for the remainder of the calendar year?''
The head of the Boston chapter for the Physical Alteration Association counted the silent vote with subtle ticks of the head. She could see some of the world's finest physicists and scientists squirm in their seats at the thought of the motion passing. Final tally registered 23 for.
`` All against?''
Even with the silent vote, you could see the fervor in those against. They were sweating with their right thumbs digging into their chests, as if the harder they voted the more power it carried. Final tally 15 against.
`` All abstaining?''
The final 8 members lazily abstained. Those against looked on in outrage.
`` The motion passes 23, 15, 8. Please submit your abstracts for the plans on civilian incorporation with this new physical law, detailing any urgent actions needed attention. This law will be put into place at the end of the week, July 10th. Thank you.''
Sue was full of adrenaline. This was her first major law as head of the chapter, the most important one in history, and it just passed.
Each major city in the USA had such a meeting with their chapter. The PAA may have been the one good thing that had happened after the fallout of World War III, and especially so in Boston, as it was one of the farthest from the Chinese assault. The force field encompassing the city had been completely operational by the time the nukes went off on the East Coast, and little damage had been done to the city and it's people.
The force field required Boston to become completely self-reliant, growing its own food, using its own resources, and recycling everything that the general public used. The benefit was that they could now control the physical aspects of their environment; the temperature, the lighting, the amount of oxygen in the air, the gravitational force. All of this was monitored and influenced by the PAA.
`` Ma'am, you ca n't possibly expect the general public to adapt to a complete change in gravity... Every movement and instinct will change! People will be crashing their pods into each other, there will be mass hysteria, there will be riots! How can you be so blind?!'' Sebastian's voice raised to the point where nearby conversations were silenced.
Sue pursed her lips. `` Sebastian, you know why we are doing this. It is n't some experiment to indulge our curiosity, this motion has real implications for the future of our species-''
`` A future that may not happen if the public thinks they are puppets! You expect to change their understanding of physics without even explaining why? The public will go crazy, the end goal may never come to fruition before they kill each other, or all of us for that matter!'' Heads around the room began nodding. Self preservation has a way of influencing people that logic ca n't match.
Sue could n't have mutiny, not now. `` If we told the public what our plan was, it would cause tenfold the destruction and amount of riots than our law would. Not everyone in Boston can be transported, and not everyone will accept that.''
`` And what will the public think when we decrease gravity to 5 m/s^2? 3m/s^2? How about 1.622 m/s^2? Do you think they will figure it out then?''
`` You know what we will say, that we can no longer sustain the energy used to simulate Earth's gravity of 9.22m/s^2, so we must go on'power saver' mode...''
`` I know what the plan is, but you really believe people will buy it? How do we explain when we decrease it to 1.622 m/s^2, the same gravitational force as the moon? Do you hope no one will notice, all the while we run our little experiments?''
Of course people will notice. But the only way to simulate life on the moon was to test it here on Earth, and after the fallout there is very limited ways to do that. There is controlled environment in the heart of Boston, and it would be negligent not to use it.
`` The motion has passed. You are all invited on the first launch to the moon after experimentation has taken place here on Earth. Do not throw away your one chance to get off of this planet.''
|
[ WP ] People can only have children with their soulmates . Having sex with anyone else will not result in pregnancy .
| `` So make sure you get their number.''
I really, really wanted to leave for my date and forget about this conversation. `` Ok.'' This was worse than health class.
`` But use a condom to make sure you do n't catch anthing.'' Mom wrung her hands, obviously trying to come up with more advice.
`` Ok.''
`` I know some girls might try the other holes as well but be extra careful when you do so. You can look it up on the Internet for tips and stuff if you like.''
`` Ok, mom.'' My date was suppose to start in 20 minutes. Why did she choose *this* moment to give me some Sex Education?! Why could n't she like normal parents who avoid these kinds of topics?
`` If they turn out to be the same gender, I'll be perfectly ok with that, you know.''
`` Yes, mom.''
`` If you have questions, you can always call me.''
`` Ok. Can I go now?'' Maybe I could still make it on time if I sped a little...
`` I suppose... bit make sure you get their name and number at the very least.''
`` Ok mom. Bye.'' I jumped up from the couch and grabbed my purse.
`` Bye honey. Be home by 10.''
|
[ WP ] You are walking down a busy downtown street late at night . As you look through a window in passing , your eyes lock with a man who seems vaguely familiar ...
| My eyes caught the gaze of the man in the window, and for a split second, I could remember where I had seen those eyes before. The memory slid away, a leaf on the stream of my thoughts, and I was again lost, reality bringing me back to the gaze I shared. I shook it off, and continued walking, inhaling deeply the cigarette smoke that I had come to find the only steady comfort in my life. I slid my left hand into my pocket, gathering my shoulders into my self, trying to keep warm as I paced down the street, half aware of my surroundings. I could n't shake the feeling that I had known the man in the window, and my brain, having tasted the memory once, was begging for it again, and so I thought, committed to finding the fleeting thought. Another puff on the cigarette, and a slightly audible, `` hmm,'' stirred the memory once more, but only pieces. I remember a man full of life, and happiness. His smile and the sun could rival in brightness, and his eyes gleamed of hopes and dreams of a steady and strong future. I had no brothers, and my father was an average man, not full of conviction like the man I am straining to remember. A cold breeze blows through the street, pulling me from my thoughts once more. I take another puff from the end of the cigarette, and frown. Nothing but ash remained. I cast away the butt, and lit another, the long walk ahead of me asking me to continue my habit. I took a deep breathe, and the subtle wave of calm washed over, replacing the constant anxiety that the nicotine covered. I took the normal left at the street light, removing my hand from my pocket only to raise my collar over my neck, swiftly returning it to the warmth. My thoughts eased back into my conscious, removing any thought into the present, and allowing muscle memory to carry me along the street once again.
I had been to college once, I had spent time into my 20's there, trying to learn a craft that could give me the future I wanted. I do n't remember what motivation really is, but I think I had it then. I remember the man being there, faint echoes of his words urging me on, the conviction in his voice enough to raise the dead to do charity. I remember him being surrounded by people that seemed like they truly loved him, and wondering how he had come so far in life, and how he always seemed... happy, and hopeful. The splash of a puddle next to me, and the car that caused it driving the opposite direction, drew me from my thoughts once again. I looked at my cigarette, and chuckled softly. My muscle memory had served my addiction well, and I had already smoked most of my coffin nail without realizing it. I took another long puff and thought again of the face. I could n't put my finger on where I met the man before, and I was getting perturbed by my lack of memory. I thought hard, the cold stimulating my thought process. I rounded the corner to my apartment door, temporarily forgetting the man I had seen so full of life. I spent some time getting ready for bed, the night already late from the time I had spent out nursing beer. While in my covers and staring at my ceiling, bracing for another sleepless night, I shut my eyelids, hoping that for once my brain would allow me to drift into the sleep I had so long been deprived. I was gifted, tonight, as I could feel the waves of sleepiness start to wash over me, my last thought being of the face I saw in the window, the one so familiar, but forgotten. An old best friend, perhaps? Maybe someone who had taught me a lesson I had forgotten a long time ago. Then I remember. Suddenly as if I had never really forgotten, only ignored for years. That familiar man in the window.
It was me, when I still had hope.
|
[ CW ] Two people . Sitting on a park bench . The entire scene lasts 5 minutes in real time . No skipping ahead , no flashbacks , nothing otherworldly . Let dialogue drive your story .
| The light just broke through the clouds as she sat down on the bench, her hands folded in her lap, legs crossed at the ankle. It smelled like morning.
`` Well, the kids have been doing well,'' she said.
He took the spot next to her. `` I'm glad. What have they been up to these days?''
`` Reid just told us that the coach is putting him in first string in an upcoming game. He's so proud, been training extra and he tells me he still manages to make his 9am class. That still has yet to be verified. But Rose assures me that she'll keep an eye on him.''
`` Who's this new girl in his life, huh?'' He waggled his eyebrows.
`` She's really been my favorite of his girlfriends so far, I have to say. And it's not just because she also feels like she could be one of my girlfriends, you know, getting dinner or going to the theater. Though we do happen to love the same musicals. To Reid's dismay, of course. But you know him, he'll come around. And Rose is just so lovely, as I mentioned.'' She sighed.
`` She sure does sound as sweet as her name.''
`` Then, well, Mags is doing okay. You know Maggie, never one to smile at you unless you are worthy of it. She's enrolled in a hybrid science-art class at school, which she seems the most excited about. Had me sign a permission slip because they'll be working with electronics, using different types of equipment, I'm not sure what. Seems like a pretty advanced class for 10th grade, there was never anything like that when Reid was in high school. But I'm glad Mags has an outlet for her creativity.''
`` I'd love to see something she makes.'' He smiled. `` And how are you doing?''
`` I guess it's not as simple for me, just working most of the time, not really able to get out my creative side like I used to. Remember when we spent those two weeks of summer in that little villa, and I made the most beautiful books of pressed leaves and flowers?''
`` I remember, the smell of nature wafted around the house for days after.''
`` I'm sure I still have it somewhere, if I manage to look for it. But mostly I'm at work, Carl's got me doing a lot. I may be up for a promotion soon, which is good because Reid's school is not cheap. And I might have to help Mags buy some supplies, she mentioned a national competition she wants to enter that she found out about in class. So there's all that. Stace comes by twice a week to make sure everything's running smoothly, I thank her so much for that. Even if I do n't always tell her.'' She paused. `` I'm sure she knows though.''
`` My sister cares so much about you all.''
`` It's just hard. Okay, I admit not everything is alright. My mom may need to get a wheelchair, her knees are not doing so well, and that means wheelchair-proofing the house, or putting her into a home. It's just a lot to handle. I simply wish my brother would be more helpful with all of this, you know? Instead of just the happy-go-lucky cool uncle.''
`` That's why I love you. You do so much for people.''
She stopped speaking, looked up at the sky, and breathed in a shaky breath.
`` I just miss you so much. And I'm so angry. You should be here right now. It's been one year but I do n't care. I need you. The kids need you. I-I-'' A sob racked her frame, but she breathed in deep again, looked straight ahead with dry eyes. `` I loved you.''
`` And I still love you.'' He said, emotion weighing down every word.
`` I love you.'' She said. Standing up, she walked to the other side of the bench and gingerly let go of the flower petals that had just been in her clasped hands. They fell to the ground, a gentle breeze picking up one of them and carrying it to rest on the bench.
She looked at the gravestone. `` They're not pressed, but I suppose they'll do.'' With that, she walked away.
Her husband watched her go from his seat on the bench, holding the delicate petal in his cupped hand. The corners of his mouth turned slightly upward. `` They'll do just fine.''
|
[ WP ] A forensic team who investigates murders of mythical/ folklore creatures .
| It was obvious what had happened. The perp had broken a window to enter the house, only to discover that the homeowner was not, in fact, at work. A fight had ensued, knocking various keepsakes off the shelves and breaking a mahogany coffee table, culminating in the perp grabbing a paperweight and bludgeoning the victim to death. I was about to ask the ME if she had determined the time of death when I heard a horrible wailing from the kitchen. I instinctively snapped my head around, only to see my partner comforting a young woman in a plaid shirt who had rushed past the police tape. Poor kid, nobody should have to see a friend like this. I went back to examining the body, absentmindedly listening to my partner try to console her. After a few minutes, she had calmed down enough to have a conversation.
& nbsp;
β What β s your name, miss? β I heard my partner ask.
& nbsp;
β Joan. β
& nbsp;
β OK Joan, how did you know the vicβ¦er, Mr. Edwards? β
& nbsp;
β He was my husband. β
& nbsp;
*Wait, what?!?! * I whipped my head around to look at her again. Nope, I hadn β t been wrong; she was human. Normally, I couldn β t care less; lots of humans married magical beings, and unless the motive had something to do with a relationship, it was none of my business. It β s just that normally the magical beings weren β t centaurs.
& nbsp;
A cough caught my attention, and I turned to see the ME giving me a disapproving scowl. Shit, I must have been staring longer than I thought. I felt ashamed. That poor woman didn β t need me to gawk at her, she needed me to find her husbdand β s killer. I went back to examining the crime scene with renewed vigor, determined to make up for my momentary insensitivity.
& nbsp;
The murder weapon had been left next to Mr. Edwards; hopefully the lab techs could get some prints off of it once they were finished with the window. There was only one set of hoof prints in the room, and they belonged to the victim, so the perp wasn β t another centaur. I wondered what it could be: golem, troll, maybe even a human. Like his wife. Seriously, how did that work? Maybe Joan was lying about her relationship with the victim? If not, then she must have had hips made out of-
& nbsp;
**What was I doing?!?! ** A dead body was less than three feet away from me, a distraught woman was only one room away, and all I could think about was the logistics of their relationship. I shook my head violently, trying to refocus my thoughts on the case. The ME was still messing with the corpse, so I went to reexamine the area around the body. I pulled on my latex gloves and began sorting through what had fallen off of the shelves; we β d already photographed the scene, and maybe I could glean some new information from these items. In my line of work, every detail mattered. Even what had adorned a victim β s shelves at the hour of his death could provide valuable insight that would ultimately enable me to solve the case.
& nbsp;
I sorted through the items strewn about the floor, and made a mental note of what I saw. A few books on accounting. An autographed baseball. A picture of Mr. Edwards, Joan, and a baby centaur that couldn β t have been more than two. More books, this time fiction. The remnants of a glass sculpture. Some seashells that had been in-
& nbsp;
I dropped the seashells and grabbed the picture. The smiling faces of Mr. Edwards, Joan, and their daughter looked back up at me.
& nbsp;
After staring at the picture for at least five minutes, I walked over to the ME and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up at me, annoyed that I had interrupted her work. Before she could say anything, I showed her the picture. She barely looked at it before saying β Yes, John, it β s a picture. β
& nbsp;
β Butβ¦the kid? β
& nbsp;
It took her a second to realize what I was asking. When she did, she slapped her palm into her forehead.
& nbsp;
β Oh for fuck's sake, it β s called adoption, John! β
|
[ WP ] a self conscious mosquito that is infected with malaria describes his conflict with his decision of killing a human being to live , or dying from not feeding from a human .
| `` A self conscious mosquito that is infected with malaria describes his conflict with his decision of killing a human being to live, or dying from not feeding from a human.'' Ratty set the book down. Her yellow braid dangled down her back. She shoved the yellow cover towards her husband.
`` Did you like it?'' Mot asked.
`` No. I hate it.'' Ratty went to the pantry and pulled out a soda. `` What sort of crap is that? You are really going to let them write this shit about you? You were a fucking here back then. If we had n't come up with a cure... Humans are lucky you were... so giving.''
She set the can on the counter, her shoulders shaking.
Mot stood up, kicking the stool backwards as he did. It tipped over, the metal kick making Ratty jump.
`` I am sorry. It was supposed to be a funny take, I thought you would laugh.'' Mot kissed her neck, trailing his sharp teeth over her sensitive skin.
`` I know. I know. I just remember how they treated you. You could have killed them all and no one would have judged you. But let them live? And we get a pathetic mosquito joke? You are a fucking *lord. *'' Ratty turned in his arms, her red eyes wet with tears.
She kissed him on the mouth, a habit from her human days. She let him lead her back to the counter, where their breakfast bags sat ready to be eaten. The humans had been nothing but cruel in the last decade. This was too much for Ratty. She wanted to tear out a throat.
`` I will speak with Bob tomorrow,'' Mot said. `` Then you can rewrite the whole summary and I will take it with me.''
`` You wo n't let them mock you anymore!'' Ratty said. `` You are a vampire, not some pathetic bug for them to use like that. You saved them! They need to treat you with more respect.''
|
[ WP ] People move on to heaven only after they are forgotten about . People that led simple lives move on quick to heaven while those who were famous must wait until all recognition of them is gone . Today is the day where one historical figure finally makes their passing .
| β Greetings sir, we are proud to finally welcome you into heaven, where eternity and the present are irrevocably intertwined. β The attendant looks up from his ledger, fountain pen in ink stained hand, and says, β What is your name, sir? β
β All know of me. β
β This is official procedure. What is your name, sir? β
The giant man, with a thick, braided beard, grimaced with his forehead creasing in annoyance.
β Sir, how long have you been waiting to go into the great beyond? β
β 3170 years now. β
β Then you can wait a minute more. β
β My name is SHUTRUK-NAKHUNTE, King of Anshand and Susa, Sovereign of the land of Elam. I destroyed Sippar, took the stele of Niran-Sin, and brought it back to Elam, where I erected it as an offering to my god, Inshushinak. β
β Excellent, I β m pleased to say that you have fulfilled your most important prerequisite. You have been utterly forgotten, even your nation has become sand in an hourglass and your memory is as vivid as a forgotten dream. β
β No, this can be. β The giant crumpled to the ground, for the first time, cowed.
β It took a while, you were once the most famous man in the world, known for your conquests and arrogance. β
β Say it isn β t so. β He grabs the attendant by the collar. β Please, let me return to Earth. I don β t want to go to heaven. I won β t forgotten, I refuse, I can β t rest like this. β
β Sir, you would give up heaven for your pride? Are you sure about this? β
The giant straightened himself up again. β Of course. To be forgotten is a worse fate then death. β
The attendant crossed out the name Shutruk-Nakhunte and in an instant, the conqueror disappeared.
β Pride does indeed come before the fall. I can not think of a better system for rooting out the unworthy, for pride is the parent of all vice. However, I β m starting to wonder whether Earth will continue to be alright with all these arrogant, wrathful, unquenchable conquerors down there. It just might become a new hell. β
|
[ WP ] A world where Pangea never broke up
| `` Ryle! Ryle! Did you hear the latest? ``, a very hip and excited girl shouted, pushing herself between the rest of the passers-by until she was a few feet from me. `` Look!'' she said, pushing a wooden table to my face.
`` Alright, alright... what have we got here...'' I started to read the *newswood*, but I knew Annie would n't even let me get started before I could make the title; `` A new shake! An *Earthshake* they call it! When the forest ends and the large plains start! It says so here!'' I turned around and gesticulated'sorry' to the individuals around us.
`` Look Annie, I know you are excited but we're on the middle of the street. Why do n't we go to that place where they serve those weird leaf beverages you like so much? -Leafs...... except for a vegetable or two, plants where fodder for Saurosfolk- There we can *discuss* this.'' I suggested and she agreed. Of course she would n't shut up on the way to *Leafhouse* as it was called, but by then my mind was elsewhere.
I do n't even remember when we got to the *saurotransport* and got there. A new shake? That was very weird, I do n't remember the shakes being so close to each other. At most, people only remembered one shake in their lifetime, but now ten only in the last month. The newswood explained that most brilliant minds of our era tried to figure that out, some suggested we could dig until we find the source of the shake, some others suggested that a giant saurus was trapped underneath the earth and now it was waking up.
I was not convinced. Any theories sounded too absurd to me, living in this era of great technological advances: towns were bigger and modern; all Saurofolk serving us as transport, garbage disposal, messenger services and other menial tasks; the wheel helped transport more and more persons from Southland to the Northland, passing through the Great Desert, Greenfast and all the Forests in between, using the new roads built from stone and hardened-mud.
`` So, are you going with me?'' she finally blurted, waking me up from my thoughts.
`` Go? Where?''
`` To the border, between the Blue Forest and the Greenfast plains, where the shakes have been happening lately! I just told you about the expedition, they want all sorts of volunteers there!'' she said flustered.
`` Oh, no. I do n't have time for that.'' I said.
`` Hey Flintstone!'' A familiar voice came close. Chuck Marble, the prick. What he lacked in stature he made up in being annoying. Our families never got together, some issue that our grandparents started but it got carried down. `` Heard about the expedition? We're going and I'm sure we do n't need a Flintstone messing up anything there, you got it?''
And that's how I got into this mess. Damn those Marbles.
|
[ PI ] Google is a real person that you have to talk to to search the internet
| `` Sir/m'am what is your google emergency?'' I spat out as another customer entered the room. The afternoon was long and boring; for the last 20 minutes or so I'd been exhausted. The digital clock next to my workplace happily read 5:56, so that meant only four more minutes of tedium until I could walk upstairs, chew on some dinner bits, and pass the hell out until next week.
My mind wandered, a side effect of the brain fog which landed me this meanial life gig in the first place, then I remembered I statistically had atleast 2 more customers to serve before my shift was done. I looked up and noticed the customer who had n't answered me was a hulking man, and he had crept up uncomfortably close to my desk. Not only was he big in height but he was extremely overweight, on the scale of 350+ pounds if I had to guess. Also he was sweating, profusely. My desk was atleast a couple feet from him, but I could n't help but notice the small smell creeping up on me.
`` Sir what is your google emergency? My name is Ashley, a google reposit terminal representative, we're very sorry for the wait. I'm ready to assist you now.''
I looked at him and but he did not answer right away. His eyes were pointed to the floor. His accent was thick and awkward. `` I-I'd liiiiike soomem poorngnography. I-I-I meanen I'd loke to up to pornography. I mean I'-I'd liike to lookek up some pornography. Some bondeege, on a thumbtack flashdrive please. I will pay for cost off drive.''
My face did not falter and my response was immediate. Weirdos like him came in here from time to time, even if the federal government and Google coorporation made every effort to stop them. `` Sir this google reposite terminal is for internet search emergencies only. You have 5 days, thats 120 hours per week to download anything legal, including adult content, on your own private computer to view at your leisure. These centers, which are open for only 2 days per week, may only be used for emergencies such as fraud, emergency communications with family in a third world country, or --''
`` I'm sororry bot-but this is an emergency. You seeh my huse recentlyy burnded down and only todah was gotten new compooter. MY body goes throguh withdrawals, why am speking weried.''
The audacity of this man, this subhuman. To ask a pure women like me, who had never so much as touched herself innapropriately to look up these vile things. I would not give him more than one more chance before pressing the big red button below my desk and letting security take care of him.
`` According to the Productive Rights act of 2057 the internet is yours to use as you please for 5 days a week and even the remaining two, providing it is an emergency. The government does not consider the acquisition of adult content to be an emergency so I will have to ask you kindly to leave. If not I will be forced to --''
He moved in close to my desk and stuck his body out so that the fat drooped all over my desk. His hands, which were surprisingly fast grabbed me by my shirt. He grabbed my left breast and I screamed. Damn google and their privacy, nobody could hear my call in this soundproof room.
`` You arerrr abot. I will not telel anybobby if you do thids simdple minute request for mee.''
His hand began to fondle me. It was n't exactly reflex timing but my hands were immediately trying to get his off. I dug my nails into his sweaty palms ( which stained my blouse, ew ) and eventually struggled free.
`` Sir please get away from me,'' I said, moving my chair away from him but also away from the big red button that would set me free so I could end my shift. My eyes, for a moment, could not concentrate on the situation, but I caught myself soon enough. The man lay in place, and I dared not approach.
`` I do n't feelel bad becauseess you are abot.''
`` What do you mean I am abot? `` His eyes seemed disgustingly thirsty. I had to make him get away, distract him somehow and make a run for the security button.
`` You arrewr a bot. A robot. Rohbot. Made by google.''
`` Sir, you are against every potocal in the book and --''
`` Whare doo you slheep?''
`` Sir, if you could please back away...''
`` Youre shifte is almost uppe. I made suree toh come when ure shuft was almost uppe. Youh mush be tireded. Justuh fullfill my request polease...''
He was a psycho, but somehow he he had guessed right. Even in this crazy, possibly scarring situation, I was tired. Unmistakedly so, I had somewhat of a hard time focusing even on this conversation.
`` Sir, how did you know I was tired...''
`` Yu are abot, I told you. Botss are experimntal curreently and take lotdds of recharging. You cann only bee awake 2 days a weeek, for work. I ccanot wait for botss to buy though, I would loveee a model like you. Now please, plase, look it up for me, only you can with your secccurtiy. Pleasae quick, not much timee.''
I squinted at the clock. 6:02. At this time I'd normally already be signed off heading upstairs to my room and --
He was right. I was a robot. I thought I was hired for this boring job because I slept 5 days a week due to my chronic fatigue syndrome but that was wrong. That was my programming. During the week I was literally recharging my battery, and testing new operating systems and memories. I was even able to adequately think on my own and even make decisions.
I got up from the chair. My wobbly legs almost made me fall over in my skirt. `` Sir, you're right,'' I said. `` Thank you sir. I am a robot. You made me realize that.''
He looked at me a couple seconds and began to relax. He brought his big body back to the other side of my desk.
`` And now for a little'abot' humor sir,'' I said. `` Soon my models going to be released to the public you know.''
The man licked his lips to this.
It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. `` Well I would tell you a bit of bot humor but I really need to recharge. I ca n't all waste my waking hours on debugging too, can I?''
His expression when the alarm rang out was priceless. He'd probably never been dissed by technology before.
|
[ WP ] The stars never came out last night .
| My world has narrowed to this room. I do n't know why I'm here. I do n't know who brought me here. The only time he makes his presence known is when he slides a plate of food and water through a slot in the reinforced steel door.
The light comes on and off, presumably to mimic the pattern of day and night, but as I have no window, I can not see outside. I have no way to track time. Daytime only lasts two hours one day and then eighteen hours the next. I have no way of knowing for sure.
When the light is out, I can see the glow-in-the-dark stars decorating the ceiling. The stars glowed brightly before, when I was a new occupant to this room, but the glow fades bit by bit.
Light on.
Light out.
Light on.
Light out.
Light on.
Light out
Light on.
Light out, and no stars come out.
|
[ EU ] After Darth Vader dies , luke picks up his helmet , puts it on , and says `` Now I am Vader ''
| Luke's hand trembled as he slowly put on what was once his father's helmet. He could feel the evil ways of the Sith slowly consume his heart deafening the voices of his once master Obi Wan. The emotions he desperately tried to control began overwhelming him as he felt anger, passion, and fear coursing throughout his inner soul. His eyes tested as this was something so beautiful but at the same time dangerous to have. Then in a sudden flash he remembered everything he desperately tried to block. All those memories, his loving aunt and uncle burned to death in order to protect him. The thought of having parents that he could never truly get to know. The countless people that have died in the name of the rebellion. His kiss with his sister Leia. Luke collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face. This was a power he could not control, a power he did no want. Luke grabbed ahold of his lightsaber and pressed it against his throbbing heart. With the last bit of his old self Luke activated the lightsaber ending the lifetime of misery he tried so desperately to forget.
|
[ TT ] In the year 2099 , human augmentation has hit the market . Diseases are basically non existant , and the aging process has practically halted . You are one of the last pure humans left , and you are conflicted as to whether or not you should augment or not .
| 'When are you planning on getting augs?''
`` Never. Not worth the money.''
`` Not worth living forever?''
`` They technically ca n't prove forever.''
`` Indefinitely. You know what I mean.''
`` I guess I do.''
`` So why not?''
`` I made it this long, right? For millions of years we survived without these augs, why ca n't we keep going? Besides, I have always been a purist in everything.''
`` Yeah. I know. Milk should be from a cow, not a bean and all that stuff.''
`` Exactly. Humans are humans. Nothing else. Besides, imagine the fame I will get.''
`` I never knew you were one for the spotlight.''
`` Not usually, but having my name go down in history and science textbooks for the millennia to come sounds amazing.''
`` Yeah. You are right about that.''
`` I know.''
|
[ WP ] The secret identities of a hero and their arch nemesis are dating . Neither one realizes .
| We both collapsed onto the bed. I groaned in involuntary protest as he pulled me off my stomach and into his arms. He smiled at me knowingly and refused to break eye contact for as long as I tried to gather my breath.
`` That was amazing,'' I allowed him. It was, as always. He winked and ruffled my hair, satisfied.
I squeaked, embarrassed at the torrent of dandruff he had just loosed from my scalp. He just laughed.
`` When will you learn to just relax around me?'' he teased.
I mumbled something. His next quizzical look I met with a kiss on the mouth. That shut him up.
He pulled me in closer by my beard, and to make a long story short, we were both up much later than intended.
I do n't know for how long we slept after that, spooning.
My dreams took me many places, as always. They took me far away from him, but in my dreamscape I often wore the mask of a man who was n't quite as sentimental as the face I showed the world, showed everyone, showed him.
Behind the mask, I was strong, confident. Like Dalton, but also not. See, my Dalton could be intimidating with his physique, but like a well-trained pit bull, for all his swagger he always held back. He was always holding back with me... More than he needed to, I wanted to tell him. But then he'd just hold my cheek and give me that sad, patronizing look that never failed to anger me. The man was an enigma. Even after three years, he seemed to have many secrets. I just always imagined it would have to tire a man's soul, holding back as much and as often as he did, but only a few times did I ever find traces of strain on his charming face. Impeccable control over his facial expressions was one of his many talents. He altogether *never* lost at poker, which I always found to be one of the utterly unfair things about life with him. But then, it was how we met...
...
But in my dreams, I never held back.
Our city was the scum of the nation. Rape, murder, hate crimes, and rampant systemic homophobia.
But here, the villains of the world, the gay bashers, the corrupt politicians, the international corporations, the 1 %, they always put up a fight ( just to keep it interesting ), but behind the mask I was invulnerable to their webs of global influence. I was the champion of the people, the savior of mankind. I know, I know, big head much? But you have to understand, it was a kind of release for me.
In waking life, I was a lowly cubicle worker for a soulless weapons contractor. My boss never respected my estimates and I'm positive took discrete pleasure in regularly halving my deadlines. I was overworked, underpaid, and after my commute home rarely had the energy to spend on the man that it seemed half of society thought it was a sin to let hold me.
I do n't mean to paint myself the disgruntled, depressed type. Actually...
I had a plan.
...
I stirred, and Dalton was standing by the door, getting dressed. A quick glance out the window showed it was still night. My heart caught. He was always doing this. I remained quiet long enough to admire him ( I could n't help myself ), trying to think of what to say before he went off on another of his `` midnight jogs''. I did n't get the chance. He turned over his shoulder, and my eyes were wide open. Too quickly, his face turned into a boyish grin, and he turned to me fully.
`` Go back to bed, Ben,'' he whispered.
`` I'm already in bed.'' I patted the empty space next to me sadly, still warm.
My dark, mysterious lover just tilted his head and gave me one of his little `` boyfriend'' chuckles.
`` Is your cardio really so important? Now?'' I asked.
There was something in his gaze I could n't read. Something sad but proud. The silence seemed to last longer than it ought to have, though it was probably just my imagination. He seemed to be struggling to come up with the right words. Normally he shrugged off my protests, but every so often you could tell he wanted to say more. Maybe one day he'd be ready.
`` Ben, I...'' he said, barely audible over the hum of the dehumidifier.
He smiled decisively. `` Not as important as you, babe.''
Dalton took the seat next to me, and I shimmied my way up to make horizontal eye contact.
`` I just worry about you,'' I said. `` You know there are all kinds of thugs out there. I'd feel a lot better if we could just get out of this crap city. You know it's not going to get any better for people like us after that insane homophobe Mayor Presley --''
He just sighed. `` You know I do n't like to talk politics,'' he said sternly.
I clucked. `` Well, at least keep away from that vigilante. I know what the media says, but I do n't trust him to tell the good from the bad. I know they say he never kills, not directly, but concussions can ruin lives, Dalt. If you get knocked out and left tied up in front of the police station like some common criminal, you might not wake up yourself. And... and then where I would I be?''
And even if the stories were true, that he was truly fighting the corruption of the city from within, it just was n't feasible. You'd never save the world by going after street thugs and drug kingpins. You needed to think bigger. Much bigger.
He did n't have a plan.
His eyes glittered as he laughed. `` If I were a criminal, Ben, I'd be anything but common.''
I let myself fall back onto my pillow, and laughed involuntarily. `` That,'' I said, `` is certainly true.''
Dalton took that as his cue to leave. But not without a goodnight kiss. I turned over to face the empty wall as the love of my life finished getting dressed for what I could at least hope was a shorter run than normal. I heard the creak of the door open, and the `` mrrow!'' of our cat Stanley sneaking into the room.
`` Let him in,'' I murmured, to save Dalton the trouble of catching him.
`` Goodnight, Ben,'' he sang. And, `` Do n't forget, tomorrow's election day. You want to change the world, vote that asshole out of office.''
The door closed, and it was a good thing I had chosen not to turn towards it. The look on my face was stony, determined. Tomorrow, I was going to stop holding back for real. Tomorrow, the lines would be drawn. My connections at the weapons facility would finally serve me after the other way around. In one fell swoop, everything was going to change.
`` Mrrow?'' Stanley chirped as he leapt onto my bed in front of me. I stroked my beautiful, fluffy white cat gently behind the ear, and looked into his eyes.
`` There's not going to *be* an election,'' I snarled.
|
[ WP ] Equivalent Exchange is the absolute law in the universe you live in . If you gain something , you will lose something equivalent in value , and vice versa . One day , you won a $ 10 billion lottery . You try to find out what price you have paid .
| Inhibriated life; a poor product.
Food is the same as all else. It sets the price. The money is spent on bread. This goes to the store. This is that. That eats bread. It is pleased. All is same.
This is what journal says. I escape. I learn speak. Flee is good and bad so no lose. Life sad. Is theory. When is balance is same. Life is no same. Is no life. Is be dead but know it. Dead gooder. Am Artiom. Bye.
Unfortunately, Artiom never learned that the conservation of value was n't universal. Sadly, it was too late.
As another little baby child is born, to it is whispered: `` ΠΠΎΠ±ΡΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΠΆΠ°Π»ΠΎΠ²Π°ΡΡ Π² Π ΠΎΡΡΠΈΡ. ``.
|
[ WP ] Everyone in the world develops superpowers between the ages of 8 and 12 such that the strength of the power increases with the age of development . You believe you are finally starting to discover your power at the age of 18 .
| `` Huh. Guess that's that,'' I speak into the empty room.
On. Off. On. Off. The light switch flips up and down, my finger moving in tandem from half the room away.
`` Weeeeeeell,'' I say, drawing the syllable out. `` Maybe it's not just light switches?''
Experimentally, I wiggle my finger in the direction of the tv remote, imitating the motion of button pressing.
`` Still nothing,'' I sigh. `` I wonder if...'' I trail off, mind racing hundreds of miles away past solid steel walls, patrols of super powered guards, laser trip wires, impenetrable force fields, bubbles of frozen time, trans-dimensional portals and other assorted defenses to rest singularly on a simple, glass switch. *Floop*, my finger swishes through the air. And... Nothing.
`` Darn,'' I sag into my easy chair.
`` Oh well, maybe next time,'' I say as I take a syringe from its tray.
`` At this rate I'm going to run out of youth serum.''
|
[ WP ] After dying , you found yourself staring at a large screen . `` LOBBY . Current players : 7,383,275,800 . Current game time : 1059040375.2 mins . Current spectarors : 21,458,374,931 . Player rank : 2,648,535,901 . Time until next game : 23695624.8 mins ''
| My eyes hurt and it feels strange. Now I remember I have gone through this pull out phase hundreds of times already and I remember that I have never gotten used to it. Memories were flooding in and it is hard to distinguish simulation and reality. `` You better have a good reason to call time out Nikola.... That's 40 years of hard work down the drain.''
`` Your Sarkowsky got 20 rank D artefacts and 1 rank C. Others are n't doing much better. You guys were doing well but we have to regroup to make the cut.''
`` Do n't tell me you pulled the whole team out...''
`` Only 8 of you. Stacy and Magnus are staying.''
I crawled up to take a look around. No one else has yet to wake. Logout delay differs for each player. It can be as short as 30 minutes and as long as 4 hours. I am always first to wake. I do n't like it, 4 hours is like 2 weeks in in-game time and you can do so much in two weeks when you begin to figure out that reality is not as real as you thought.
`` You better have some good saves ready because we only got... what? 45 years left?''
Now that I have recollected myself a little better I know Nikola is probably right. If Sarkowsky was considered doing well then we were n't going to make the cut and we would need a new strategy. We saved 10 respawns for a time like this and we might as well take advantage of it. Civilization has moved so much in the past decades that having an updated tactic might actually be worth it. Regroups are useful because our personalities get influenced by our in-game bodies and background very much. It is hard to know for sure that someone is a player in game, let alone a teammate.
I used the time to read through the briefing notes that Nikola prepared for us. Apparently about 40 in-game years ago some teams figured out that a rank B artefact is hidden somewhere under the deep ocean floor and another one is on Mars. I guess that is the actual reason behind the oil vs. clean energy controversy and that is why nobody seemed to care about global warming. By now 20 % of the rank C artefacts are in museums, 40 % are in private possession and the rest are in the black market. That is no surprise. Rank Cs have always been the battle field. The meta strategy has always been to get political influence in the early game, implement capitalism, and then to amass rank C artefacts. In every game that I played, players of teams cooperated for this strategy. It seems to be the most efficient and consistent way to beat the NPCs.
`` Elon Musk is kicking ass. He is a player right? Which team is he on?'' Keyman apparently woke, so did most others
`` Stacy is doing pretty well is n't she?'' Nikola could n't hide his smile
`` We would only have a tier 2 starting positions in game # 3 with the amount of artefact points that we had... But if we...'' Nikola went on.
`` Stacy will get to Mars and no one will drill in the ocean again. Huddle up, this is how we do it.''
|
[ WP ] All of the other superheroes are out saving the world , while you 're stuck at home with your not-so-super powers .
| My bed is shaking. I *try* to think what could cause that. Stumped, I look out my window. The horizon is masked with black smoke. I *try* to see past the smoke, but I ca n't. I walk to my front door and open it. I am hit with the sounds of screams and gunshots. I *try* to hear what the screams are saying, but I ca n't. I follow the screaming to my neighbors. Their house is in shambles and burning.
I see Jenny stuck under her collapsed door frame. I rush over and *try* to lift it off of her, but I ca n't. `` I'm sorry Jenny, I'm *trying*.'' She coughs, `` Do n't worry about me! Please find Sammy!'' I look around and *try* to find Sammy, but I do n't see him. `` He was in the back!'' I *try* to run to the backyard, but I ca n't. When I do get to the back, I see him stuck under a burning plank. I *try* to help, but I ca n't.
As I *try*, I do n't notice someone landing next to me. But I do notice the plank being moved. I look over and see a woman in spandex and bright colors. I *try* to remember her name, but I ca n't. She asks, `` Are you two okay?'' I *try* to answer, but I ca n't. By the time I can, she is gone. I *try* to see where she went.
I rush back to the front, *trying* to spot my savior. My attention is pulled to the men marching up the street, guns in hand. We are under attack! Who are they? What do they want? I *try* to find the answers, but I ca n't. I then see my flying savior in the sky. She's fighting them. But all her attention is in one direction. She does n't see the ones coming up the street behind her. I yell, I *try* to warn her, but I ca n't.
She's been shot! I run up below her. I *try* to catch her but she falls broken on the ground. I scoop her up in my arms. I *try* to get a response from her. I *try* to think about what to do.
`` Freeze!''
The voice grabs my attention. I *try* to listen, listen you idiot! But I do n't. I stand up and face them. I *try* to think why I would stand up against these men. I was an idiot! I was *trying* to be brave. `` Freeze!'' I *try* to not waver but I shake.
I *try* not to be startled when they shot me, but I am. The bullet hits home, tearing through my lungs and my heart. I *try* to stay standing. I *try* to breathe. I *try* to move.
I *try* to live.
... but I ca n't.
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[ CONTEST ] FLASH PROMPT Contest In The Chat Room Today ! REDDIT GOLD PRIZE !
| `` I took his words so literally. Two days, he said. Two days! I was happy the doctor said she would die in two days, but there she was. A slab on the bed. Fat and bloody all over. I wiped her ass for years and the one break I get she did n't give me! That man said two days. He looked me, straight faced, and lied, sir! He lied to me! You're askin' me why... I am telling you,'' she sees Mr. J walk out the house looking concerned. She lowers her voice.
`` Who's gon na take care of me? Who's gon na wipe my ass? Huh, cus' I know you are n't -- sir. I'm fifty-six years old; I have no husband. I want to feel loved. I loved her. She's my sister. I have to love her, but that was jus' too much.
`` There -- there are limits. Who is going to love me? Huh? Huh! Huh...'' she retracts, `` Two days, after twelve years. I'm the devil for saying that I was happy for it to come, but it did n't. I would hope I would get used to it, sir. I would hope that -- uh, it would n't hurt. I would n't feel alone, but I did n't get used to it.
On the third day, I ran to her room. I've never done that before, run to her room. But she said the same thing she says every morning, where -- wa'' she begins to breathe quickly. `` I ca n't --'' the officers approach her as if to catch her.
`` Do n't touch me! Do n't touch me, yet. I -- I need to catch me breath.'' She breathes in deeply, and sits on the ground. She does n't move.
`` I'm ready, put them on. Put the things on me. Her two days were up. I'm done, and if she was alive tomorrow... I'd do it again.''
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[ WP ] You 're a man who finds out that his time-travelling grandson is coming to kill him .
| It took me a while to understand what he was saying. It was n't inherently hard to grasp, but the ramifications that would stem from it were n't exactly clear. What's worse was that I need to be killed and I had to accept that.
I was a family man or rather we were still trying to start a family. Sometimes, I worked late hours at the lab and that really did make it ever more difficult. Overall, I was n't the type to really bother anyone or have any enemies. Turns out though one day in the future, I made, or I guess would make a huge breakthrough in to manipulating the very fabric of spacetime. He told me that it was n't really how they imagined it, instead I had discovered it was a combination of a genetic anomaly in my genome and carefully applied quantum amplifier that acted on my very cells. In short I had discovered a way to time travel and only I could use it. The following weeks were full of celebration and much needed alone time with my wife. Unfortunately, my research had not gone unnoticed and we were kidnapped. They tortured me for hours, days, weeks even. Ironically I could n't use my own gift to go back to stop all of this, I was completely useless without my equipment. They broke me when they decided my wife was the only thing that mattered and turns out it was n't one life but two. I had fought and I died. But my wife survived and with her my son. They were imprisoned and made to work the machine and when that did n't succeed someone had the bright idea to suggest maybe genes skip a generation. My son was used to make a few test subjects then an army of time traveling soldiers to carry out the nefarious deeds of this organization, with no free will of their own. It was only him, the man before me, who had learned the truth of his origin and had come to put an end to it before it all began.
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[ WP ] You are given the option to travel through time , just once , but you will never be able to return to the present . Do you choose to go and if you do where do you go ?
| `` Any time I want?'' I asked incredulously.
`` Yes, but you will never return.''
`` Can I take anything with me?''
`` Only what you can carry.''
`` Can I have a day to think about it?''
`` Yes.''
The voice returned the next day, and this time I was ready for it. My backpack was loaded with 2 textbooks, an eBook with hundreds more loaded on it, some tools, a solar charger, magnets, wire, some other odds-and-ends.
`` When would you like to go?''
`` Cape Cod, November 11, 1620.''
And like that, I had my wish. I had all the knowledge and tools to go back to the exact date and time that settlers first came to America. I could usurp their leadership and help them to build a gleaming nation.
It would be hard, and it would be tiresome, but by the end of my life, I would propel society kicking and screaming 400 years into the future, with all the knowledge they could want about how to handle it all. All the mistakes they could avoid. Dates and names of people that needed to be helped ( why kill Hitler when you can take him as a boy and raise him right? ). Warnings of wars, designs for countless new machines that would improve their lives beyond any measure.
Improved government that would last for thousands of years, simple technologies hundreds of years before their time... I'd never see what came of it, but there's always hope for a better tomorrow.
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[ WP ] The Fall ( Replies MUST be at least 1,000 words or longer )
| He had made it.
It was 21 hours after setting out, but nonetheless, he had made it.
He took the red pack off his shoulders and examined it. His uncle had graciously gifted it to him two summers ago. Or was it three? He really couldn β t remember. He dropped the bag next to him and then plopped in the snow creating a rather cartoonish looking cloud of fresh powder. He was getting tired.
β I β ll just doze off here for an hour or β β
In his dream he was back home. He was surrounded by family; they were all gathered around him.
Something seemed off though.
He tried to look around but he couldn β t move.
Something was off. No doubt about it.
A shadow flashed in his left peripheral. A man in green scrubs had scurried by to wash his hands. Another man in the same outfit attempted to escort his family out of the room. His uncle refused to move; he just stood there and stared, guilt stricken and distraught. Surely he couldn β t be blaming this on himself? It was a fluke, nothing could have prevented it, but still he looked broken. He wanted to call out to him, to tell him no body was a fault. He tried to no avail. He tried to reassure him, to speak, he just wanted to let him know that everything would be okay. But he couldn β t, and everything was not going to be okay. His family left.
The man in the green switched on a light above him. β Alright boys, let β s get him under all the way; today is a beautiful day to save lives β.
He was under, or at least that β s what he thought. He was under but he could still think.
His mind drifted back to the mountain. The red bag was on his right and a fire on the left. He had placed a black travel kettle over the fire and attempted to boil some of the snow. He reached into the bag and dug around for all of the oatmeal but his hand could only find a few. He was on his last box. He had not anticipated the climb to have lasted so long. While the water was melting he went to have a look around.
β I β ll be stayin heah for a couple a nights, might as well make some sorta shelter. β
He went north, towards the trees, towards the edge of the mountain. Another cruel trick god was playing, making the forest more abundant with firewood, closer to the bluff. The trees were definitely thicker over here, but fortunately the branches also appeared to be more brittle and easier to break. He successfully snapped off a few branches, broke them into smaller, more manageable pieces and carried them back to his makeshift came one by one. On the last trip back to get the logs something caught his eye. A squirrel bounded jubilantly launching itself from tree to tree.
If only he could catch it; the oatmeal would not be enough so satisfy him for the night.
He went back to his camp to find an implement he could catch his dinner. He was getting greedy, thinking in terms of what if. He knew he might regret calling it his dinner before he had even caught it, but he could already anticipated the taste; his hunger was superseding his logic.
He could n't find anything. He wished he still had his knife but the agents had taken it away at the airport.
A brilliantly stupid plan came to him. If he could hit the squirrel with the heavy kettle, certainly it would rendered it unconscious. He really was getting tired. After dumping out the hot water he made his way back towards the trees and to his surprise saw not just one squirrel, but a scurry of them. Before he could even think he heaved the kettle into the cluster. It clumsily bounced off the ground and flew a few more feet before coming to rest precariously next to the cliff.
β Greatβ¦Now I don β t have any bloody squirrel to eat and I β ve ought to risk me life to get the kettle back for some oatmeal. β
The snow was thicker the closer he got to the kettle. The edge of the mountain was slanted downward and snow from the trees had fallen to even it out deceptively making it appear level. He inched closer and closer to the kettle ensuring there was proper footing before making the next step.
He miscalculated; the cliff dropped off before the snow did. The overhanging snow made a great cracking sound as it fell. He also made a great sound.
He grabbed around as he fell trying desperately to make contact with a root on the side of the rocky cliff. In these attempts all he did was knock more cliff loose. He looked down at the falling rocks and a split second of calmness came to him as he anticipated his inevitable death. Then came sheer panic. He was flailing now, hoping somehow he could grab something onto to something. With no luck and the ground coming exponentially closer he curled into the fetal position; just before he hit, the light switched off.
He was back in the room.
β You β re operation was a success, you know you β re a lucky man to have survived! β With that they left the room and his family came flooding back in. Some had flowers and others had desserts, regardless of what they brought, he was simply happy they came. He continued to dream of his recovery. He dreamed of his friends visiting, he dreamed of flirting with the nurses. He dreamed of a party at the hospital for all the patients. He decided to invite one of the nurses to go with him. He dreamed of dancing the night away and talking with her until the sun came upβ
β CRRAAAAACK! β The ground gave out from under him. His body jerked himself awake.
He had always had trouble with sleepwalking when stressed weighed heavily on him. It was only fitting that he already knew how his story would end.
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[ WP ] `` It 's like holding your breath in a room full of noxious gas . At first , it 's fine . But slowly , surely , you grow more and more desperate , until finally you ca n't take it anymore , no matter the consequences . ''
| It's not so much that you want to be poisoned, it's that you do n't know what life is like without the toxin. You're used to the pain, the diseased sluggishness in your heart and the clouded, distracted thoughts. You know now that this vapor that surrounds you is sure death, but'now' only just started.'Then,' the soul-defining stretch of moments behind you, the trans-horizon road of memory and time that leads to a hazily-recalled'before,' has been years in the making.
At first it was hardly noticeable. You were breathing a different air. The first wisps of the venom were in your lungs before you ever noticed. Soon enough the smoke was rising and you were the fire. Each new gasp brought an intensity you'd never felt before. Need set a blaze you maniacally fueled, stoking the flame in anticipation of creating something beautiful. On and on the furnace flamed until one day you found yourself going cold. The gold in your soul turned to clinkers and slag, and the diffuse ashes of your passion floating like motes of ruin in a dead atmosphere.
With grim determination you banked the coals. The little heat you could muster was raked together to stave off the inevitable extinction, every so often flaring when the poison teased more fuel, only to burn redder and colder after each fall.
Somewhere, beyond the fume, is a place untouched by this haze. You remember it. You know you need to get back there. By now, though, each of your cells is toxic, saturated with the days of inhaled death. Life outside the cloud seems numb. Venom whispers in your ear that this pain, this suffering in your bones, is better than the blithe numbness of the fresh air. You linger.
You've held your breath now, as long as you can. You're almost ready to make that step. You're ready to fight through the vapor and see a new day. But your lungs are screaming. You'll suffocate, you're sure. The shallowest gasp will throw you back into the nighted vortex you've suffered in all these long days, but do you risk death? Do you go back to her?
I ca n't... Not again..
I just... *gasp*
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[ CW ] Write a story about your username
| I wo n't ever forget them. I *can't* ever forget them.
They raised me, they taught me what makes me the man I am today; they're my family. Up until that night, I did n't have a care in the world. I was walking on air. ( Pardon the pun )
Then came Tony Zucco, then came that fateful night, and there went my parents. I'm not the first kid to lose his parents thanks to a criminal who did n't know them, who did n't care who they were; I know that. *He* likes to remind me of that.
Him. Bruce. Batman.
I've never viewed him as a father. A mentor, of course, but never really a father; not that he views it that way. Yes, he's taught me all I know about crime fighting, and he's protected me and saved me more times than I can remember, but I'm always in his shadow. Always will be.
Maybe that's the reason. Maybe that's why I feel like this, why I look at him that way; I want his approval. I want him to view me as an equal, as a partner. But that will never happen. The world *needs* Batman, it *needs* a Dark Knight... and that Dark Knight *needs* to be the father he never had.
I know he's protecting me, and I know it's because he cares, but I can take care of myself. I'm not that same kid who thought his world was over when he watched his parents plummet from the same heights he now scales every night. I've grown and learned and healed. The same ca n't be said for Bruce.
Call it `` daddy issues,'' call it an `` infatuation,'' call it whatever you want, but I know what it is. It's care. It's protection. It's love. We protect each other, we have each others' backs, but he'll never view me the same way. Not even as an equal. I'll always be the `` trainee,'' always one level below him.
And he'll always be the dad he wish he had. And I'll always be the kid he `` saved.'' And I'll always be in his stupid, iconic shadow. But in that shadow, I see who he truly is, I see how he truly cares.
To me he'll always be the one I look up to, the one I strive to be, and the one I'll always want.
But to him, I'll always be his son.
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[ WP ] [ NSFW ] Why she thinks they way she does .
| A continuation following this [ chapter. ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/20ygor/wp_i_could_just_make_out_the_window_high_in_the/cg807jg )
Queen Malvina is pacing again. Despite realizing this, she can not cease moving about the dinning room. Laid out on the table is china and cutlery for two. The fact she agreed to this surprised even herself. Her Captain of the Guard somehow managed to persuade her to dine with her captive a second time. Just the thought of him sends a shudder down her spine. The temperature drops noticeably by several degrees. Her face flushing red with embarrassment, she wills the room to a comfortable heat. Malvina's incontinence regarding her powers have always been a point of shame for the young ruler. It was her inability to control her gifts that doomed her subjects with undeath. Still, tonight she believes herself to have reason to be nervous.
For one hundred years her kingdom was safe behind the veil of fog and storm. Not a single ship that entered titanic squall which surrounds her island kingdom ever made it out, and not a single soul survived the treacherous seas or deadly surf, until he washed ashore, disappointingly alive. When he appear on her coast breathing and very much alive, what was she to do? For a century she had counted on the storm to take care of issues. And so when he was thrown onto her beach like some half drown rat, what was she supposed to do? Execute him? She had hoped she was a fairer ruler than that. She was not some despot who murdered on a whim. She did the most humane thing she could do. She locked him away in isolation. It was the best thing for both of them. He would live, and she would not fear having an man loose in her kingdom. His imprisonment was the only way she could have allowed him to live.
Somehow, after two months of surreptitiously observing him and watching him grow more and more forlorn, Sir Lawrence managed to persuade Queen Malvina to invite her prisoner to a meal. She spent the entire time in fear of this emaciated, haggard young man. The notion of being afraid of him was completely illogical. She was a sorceress of tremendous power, capable of killing with but a word. He could n't have run a mile without keeling over midway. But after what happened all those years ago... Any man could be like that.
A knock on the door makes her yelp in surprise. A familiar voice reaches through the thick wood. `` Your Majesty? May we come in?''
She smiles at the sound. `` Yes you may, Sir Lawrence.''
The oak door opens and two figures emerge from the hallway. The first is her closest advisor and confidant. Garbed in the tattered cloak of office and with arming sword at his side, her Captain of the Guard walks in and shifts to the side. The second person, Dieter Hagedorn, steps forward. Queen Malvina sucks in a breath as she sees him better, willing herself not to turn around and flee to the comfort of her private quarters. Her captive is wearing better fitting clothes than last night. The staff had the time to go through the wardrobes to find items his size. No amount of fabric can hide his half-starved body though, gaunt with hunger. Shame wells inside her at the extant of his neglect, though it is hidden beneath a queenly mask. Her prisoner however, is as readable as an open book. His features might be kindly described as feral. He has a wolfish- no, definitely vulpine aura about him. There is a bestial cunning in his slate gray eyes. Most of his face is taken up by a mixture of fear and defiance.
Taking a deep breath, she wills herself to remain calm, to not give into fear. She gestures to the other chair. `` Please, sit.'' Her captive gives a tense nod and walks over, seating himself wordlessly. A servant pushes her chair in for her. Glancing over at her mentor for support, she begins dinner.
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[ WP ] You have been bitten by a zombie and locked yourself in your room . Write a letter about your experience to whoever finds you , with the language getting worse as the virus progresses .
| To Whom it May Concern,
My name is Matthew Belter and these are my final thoughts as I have been bitten by a zombie. I realize that this may leave me very little time to reveal my last words but I hope I can relay my life and what it has meant to me as best I can. I have led a very happy life where I have accomplished so much, I made it to the ripe age of 29 and my career was about to take off. As I sit here realizing that death is near, I find myself thinking of the only woman that I ever loved. Her name was Jennifer and she broke my heart after years of happiness. She was everything a man could ever dream of having and I will never forget the day that she made a move on me. She was standing there, looking as beautiful as ever when I confessed that I had feelings for her. I remember the look in her eyes when she realized what I was trying to say to her and how quickly she jumped on me to kiss me as passionately as I would ever be kissed in my life. She ruined first kisses for me because I knew that no other first kiss would ever be that good again. I have thought about that kiss every night since it happened. Jennifer left me for another man and even though it has been 3 years, I still have a broken heart that longs for her. I know we could have had a life together, in fact, I would have married her and I would have had children with her. Fuck her. Now that I think about it, I moved away because I could n't bear the thought of running into her and her new douchebag of a man. If it had n't been for her, I would n't even be in this situation right now. I hope that this virus spreads and she gets eaten alive. I hope they tear her limb from limb. Fuck everything, this world was a shithole in general and it was shitty to me. I never got anything done and I'm fucking glad that I'm going to die. Fuck this world.
-Matt*hew* *Be* lt e r
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[ WP ] You 're a part of the dog Illuminati . You know where the stick went , who has peed where , and control all of the toys . But now an urgent meeting has been called , to finally find out the answer to who 's a good boy .
| β Order! Order! I will have order in my doghouse! β The gavel fell several times, hard and ringing.
Silence fell.
β Excellent, β High Illuminati Rufus declared. β Secretary, please proceed with items on today's agenda from the top. β
Secretary Sadie's tongue lolled out in a wide doggie grin. It was her turn to speak. β Yes, High Illuminati! First item is an updated status on significant items in our community. β
β Proceed. β
β Today is Coco's birthday! Coco turns 4 and her owners got her a new red rubber ball! β The room erupted into excited murmurs.
β How lucky! β β I wish I got a ball. β β You had a ball, but you ate it. β β What color is red? β β How big is the ball? β β Is a dachshund even big enough to pick up a ball? β
β Order! Order! β the old German shepard called again. β I will have order, doggammit! β
Murmurs died down slowly. Sadie continued. β Umβ¦it looks like Lucky was taken on a new walking route this past weekend... and has claimed the fire hydrant on 4th and Federal. β
Once again, chaos ensured. β Not the fire hydrant! β β That's my favorite! β β Where will I pee now? β β Lucky has claimed over half the fire hydrants in town already! β
β Order! At this rate, we will never make it to important matters. β
Sadie, the golden retriever, cautiously cleared her throat. β The final update is... β she let herself pause for a few seconds as she loved the suspense it instilled in other dogs. β The stick was never thrown. It was a trick. Now the stick is on the ground to the left of the bush. β
A collective β ahhh β filled the room. This mystery had been the main point of discussion for the past couple of months, and everyone was glad to have it finally resolved. It was quite a good stick.
β Very good, β High Illuminati Rufus said with a pleased look his face. The stick had been a troubling as well as embarrassing matter for him personally as he'd been the one sent to retrieve it. β Thank you, Sadie. If that is all you may retrieve your bone. β Sadie sat up straighter and let her tongue loll out again before darting to the bone corner.
β Now as all of you know, today's meeting is a very special one indeed. We have gathered everyone here to answer life's most important question. It is a question that has to this day never before been answered. β
The dogs all leaned in closer to the High Illuminati, excitement and tension filling the room.
The High Illuminati cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice rang out across the room. β Who, I repeat, who is a good boy? β
The dogs all erupted in barks and shouting. β Oh me! Oh me! Oh I know it's me! β β Can I be a good boy despite chewing up a slipper this morning? β β Forty-two! I heard a master once say that's the answer to everything! β
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[ WP ] When the Hero becomes the Villain
| Peter Parker cradled the lifeless body of Mary Jane Watson-Parker in his arms, as the loud laughter of a critically wounded Norman Osborn echoed through a shocked-into-silence Times Square. Peter has had his mask shredded beyond recognition, once again revealing to the world of his secret identity, but he did n't care. For the second time, Norman Osborn has taken away the woman he loved. Peter set the woman down, resting her head carefully on the ground.
The man slowly stood up and turned towards Norman, tears welling in the man's eyes. Norman spat blood and pushed himself away from the crushed taxi he was formerly ensnared in. `` Just another couple of blocks and we could have a repeat at the bridge for old times sake, Spider-Man.'' He wiped a bloodied maw on the back of his glove and reached for his belt.
Parker said nothing, walking to Norman with a haunted expression on his face. The Green Goblin removed a pumpkin-shaped bomb from his belt and primed the trigger. `` Do n't worry, Parker! You'll join the skank in Hell soon enough!'' He hoisted the bomb up and tossed it, laughing like a man possessed.
The bomb was ensnared with a shot of webbing from Parker's left wrist. He spun on an ankle and discus tossed the bomb back, just as Norman took to a run; They'd had this dance countless times before. The bomb was little more than a distraction, a quick run and call of the glider and Norman was back in the air.
Only this time he was n't alone. Parker was with him this time. The two struggled, and the glider was veered off course, smashing through the window of a ground-floor shop. Osborn tumbled and was caught by a right handed hook. A nose shatters. Another punch, this one equally as careless, equally as rough as one thrown by a man with nothing left.
Osborn was sent sliding across the ground, back into the rear wall of the shop. The staff flees for their lives, and Parker begins his approach, still just as silent as his pursuit began. The Goblin struggles to stand. `` Parker, I've ruined your life. What are you going to do this time? Make a deal with the devil? Mope and cry? It does n't matter. I've won. I've won.'' He stammers.
Parker's hands fold around the Goblin's throat. The two struggle. The Goblin jabs a hidden knife into his attacker's ribs, but this results in a tightened grip. Eventually, the Goblin's struggle to cause as much damage as possible is cut short. The man struggles to breathe, and after just a few more moments, he ceases to move, an permanent grin of victory plastered on his face.
Parker slowly stands up and turns back towards the street. He's illuminated by countless spotlights. A crowd stares at him in horror, news vans begin to report the murder of Norman Osborn. As he walks out into Times Square, he's confronted by Iron Man and a handful of the Avengers.
Three months later, Peter `` Spider-Man'' Parker sits alone in a cell at the Raft. He runs a hand across his unshaven jawline and pushes himself off of his cot, his attention drawn across the front of the cell at the gaps between the reinforced bars.
*Was it worth it? * He thought to himself. *Was killing Norman Osborn going to make the world a better place? Did I do more good avenging Mary Jane with his death and thus consigning myself to prison for the rest of my life? There are villains now, villains with an agenda against me, and now they're going to be running free. How many lives did I end by proxy by being locked up in here? How many Uncle Bens are being created in this hour alone? *
*Uncle Ben. If he could see me now, * he thought. *If he could see me now. * Peter Parker sat down on his cot once more and wept.
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[ WP ] Aliens seeded the earth with dinosaurs millennia before . Today they return and see humans populating it instead , and they are PISSED
| `` PREPARE TO DROP OUT OF TRANSWARP'' the voice boomed over the intercom system.
`` It does n't matter how much drazamine they pump into me, I always get sick after a jump lieutenant'' Higgins whined. Higgins was your standard asset collector, gruff, older, salty. Despite all his toughness, there was one thing that always managed to make him curl up into a fetal position, and that was the motion sickness associated with transwarp travel.
`` It'll be the same as all the other times. Try not to think about it.'' Lieutenant Marl tried to ease the asset collectors nerves. `` If the Saurian DNA evolved according to specs, we'll need you at full constitution, no weakness''
A millennia ago, we had come to this planet, and left the seeds for the universes ultimate weapons. Called `` Saurians'' these were living weapons. Once a breeding population was dropped on a planet, they would wipe out the indigenous population within a matter of a year, while leaving the majority of plant and infrastructure intact.
The Galactic Council preferred this method of warware and planet cleansing. Unlike the tactical nukes which left a planet uninhabitable for eons, or a GRB which had to be carefully aimed and often times stripped a planet of it's atmosphere ( or worse, directly hit a planet destroying it ) a Saurian campaign was considered to be the most environmentally friendly way of clearing a planet for depopulation.
`` DROPPING OUT OF TRANSWARP IN 5''
`` I'm gon na be sick!'' Higgans cried.
`` 4''
`` 3''
`` 2''
`` It's in your head Higgans, MAN UP!''
`` 1''
Suddenly the hum of the Transwarp drive stopped. The entire ships contents lurched forward a bit, still carrying the momentum of transwarp. Higgins as usual layed on the floor, clutching his stomach and screaming in agony.
`` Just fucking suit up, I have no time for this primadonna bullshit'' said Lt. Marl.
Asset collectors used a cognitive projection suit in their duties. Saurians, despite being great weapons, were absolute idiots. They were 100 % pure instinct, with no higher level brain functions. The cogsuit as it was affectionately called, allowed the operator to impart his cognitive consciousness on creatures with a lesser mind, allowing the asset collector to `` Drive'' the asset back to the ship, undamaged for collection.
Unfortunately for the wearer, if the asset suddenly `` Grew a brain'' so to speak, the cognition feedback could have detrimental results...
`` Switching to sub-system propulsion!'' the voice boomed over the intercom again. Sub system propulsion was used for in-system travel. It would be 24 hours before an asset collector ship would reach the `` Blue Marble'' planet seeded eons ago.
The massive ship lurched forward again, this time with a different whining noise. There was nothing sexy about the sound of interplanetary or inter galaxy travel. Everything was high frequency, the noise was a constantly permeating. 3rd planet from the sun, this would be a long trip on sub-system thrusters.
-- -
Up in the Colorado Rockies, a fortress carved deep into the Cheyenne mountainside began sounding air sirens. The entrance door, a 6 meter thick amalgamation of concrete and steel slowly closes as soldiers rush back and forth.
`` OK give me the situation'' General Peters asked as he hurriedly rushed into the situation room. He had been in his position for years. All new, young, fresh faces. Nobody lasted from when his was first given his post 20 years ago. Peters was one of the few Generals the men respected. He earned his stripes 50 years ago flying F4 Phantom sorties against the Viet-Cong, and earlier during the korean conflict.
`` Sir we just got this from the Arecibo radio telescope''
All the monitors in the room, which up until that point had been displaying a world map with various graphs and statistics on it all synchronized to display a single image. At first glance, it somewhat looked like a meteorite, but there was smaller details like pipes, hangar bays, and what looked like the glow of engines creating a corona behind the object.
`` Are those fighter craft?'' Peters asked, pointing towards the swarm of ships exiting and entering the giant object''
`` We do n't know sir''
`` Give me an idea of the scale we're seeing here''
`` 2 Γ 10^^22 kilograms, or about a quarter of the size of the moon''
`` Do we know if they're hostile?''
`` We do n't know yet sir''
`` What offensive capabilities do they have?''
`` No data sir''
`` Well, what can you tell me?''
`` It's travelling at 1/5th the speed of light, which means it should enter our orbit within 24 hours''
`` Who else knows?''
`` The Russians, the Chinese, the UK, we're trying our best to keep it under wraps, but we predict it will be visible to most novice astronomers within 8 hours, we expect full population panic''
`` Let them panic, it's our job to keep the cooler heads'' Peters lamented.
-- -
Higgins suited up, but unlike other asset collection missions, strange things started appearing on his neurolink scanner. Images and audio on a 30 to 300mhz frequency range, in 60hz increments.
`` LUCY I'M HOME!!''
`` Oh Ricky!''
Higgins was perplexed. These transmissions very much resembled the entertainment broadcasts relayed around the reaches of the Galactic Empire, but they were nothing he had ever seen before. Transmissions to a incubator planet were forbidden. He shifted frequencies to 50hz.
`` We'll add a little tree here, and a little water there. Oops, I did n't mean to put paint there, but that's OK, we'll just turn it into another little tree, happy little accidents!''
The man in the image smeared colored paste across the board, turning it into an image.
`` This is painting, but I've never seen this show before'' Higgans thought. `` Are these new shows? How are they reaching this sector of the galaxy?''
`` Interesting'' Marl said looking over the data. `` We'll need to launch probe ships to triangulate the source of these broadcasts'' A small fleet of probe ships exited the hangar. Each ship was equipped with a synchronized clock. A packet of transmission was captured, and the time difference between the recieve time was used to triangulate the exact position of the transmissions.
`` It's coming from the incubator planet'' the technician reported.
-- --
`` This is Sarah Wilson with CNN news. We're gathered here outside of the White House waiting for the Presidents announcement. We're guessing this is from the large object coming towards the center of the solar system reported by astronomers all over the world''
`` People of Earth, as you have heard, there is a large object travelling towards us. It is expected to reach us within 12 hours. Our best science and Military people have concluded that the object is of extra-terrestrial intelligence. We do not know the intentions of the Aliens, or they are hostile at this time. We are asking all of the citizens of the world to unite in this time of unknowns. Please do not panic''
A quiet hush rolled over the crowd like a wave, drowning out the chatter from before the announcement. This was followed by reporters pulling out their phones in a flurry of calls, tweets, and texts.
Within hours, the New York Times had the story ready to go for their evening edition. `` ALIENS CONFIRMED!'' was the headline, with a fuzzy photo of the object, and the gas giant Jupiter in the background.
As panic set in all over the world, grocery stores were stripped clean. People tried to get out of the bigger population areas, but the traffic jams forced them to abandon their cars. A mass exodus of people on foot leaving most of the worlds population centers.
-- -- -
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[ WP ] After having made your first billion dollars , you are delivered a package containing a `` Billionaire 's Club '' card , and a pamphlet outlining its uses and benefits ...
| What's this?
Its your Billionaire Club.
Its just a...... a club.
A nice one. Did you notice the jewels?
Yeah. It's really nice. Good heft, great balance.
Good, swing it around a bit, get used to the feel of it. Now, here's a User Card, it outlines the usual situations where you can use your new Billionaire Club. You can read it in detail later, but the gist of it is.....
This is my first time responding to one of these, ever. Would someone else like to pick it up where I left off? I'm not sure where I was going.
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[ WP ] Suddenly everyone in North Korea disappears . It turns out North Korea is super advanced and live in a massive underground paradise . Their only job ? To live on the surface for 1 month each year . Recently , they are on strike and want to stay underground away from the crazy people and wars above .
| June 30
7AM
Hello Surface Jornal. I am opening my eyes as I write, I applogise for any typos. I can barel think straight with the apprehension of the primitive ideals awaiting my lip servies atop our plante. Hopefully it's not as bad as it's mad to sound. Again my coordination is n't the best in the moring but not to worry Ivy will analyze for me, she always helps. I'l kyl Ivs says acting got ta happen and I ai n't messin with her to use your primitive vernacular.
815AM
Hey again. Looking at my entry this morning my spelling is abhorrent but again Ivy should fix it up for me before continuity gets ahold of it. I have to start acting in a few minutes, I wonder what it will be like but it's always the same thing. Reading Cassie's journal for the latest ideas, putting on my stupid mask and sweltering padded suit, you know the drill. They always say there should n't be any dysmorphia issues with not seeing yourself for a month but then they just up and turn your skin the wrong color and make you a guy or have you wave these weird silk scarves around. Once or twice I've gone so method I even began to believe myself, kyl
1200PM
I'm kinda pissed at Cass and Kellen for their weird ideas, what's up with all this nuclear stuff? I THOUGHT we were supposed to 3F that but apparently failure is too good for them and Funny sure as hell is n't a good reason or resolution to the issue they've created for everyone. I suggested intentional failure to keep this from going on but again 3F is n't good enough for them. So now we're scaring the rest of the world for no reason other than the May and June Kims convinced everyone to go along with it.
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[ WP ] Instead of destroying the planet , Global warming has caused the planet 's ecosystem to grow at an exponential rate .
| 2100.
It's funny how things work. We knew that *survival of the fittest* was the rule of nature, and that *necessity was the mother of invention* had created every technology up to the point when we no longer needed but merely wanted.
Global Warming... Climate Change... call it what you like, but nobody can deny now that it was where those two old sayings came together. You ever wonder where Zika came from? Yeah, that was just the beginning.
It started geting weird with mosses beginning to pop up in weird places in urban China, causing the CO2 and other pollutant levels to drop but the mosses to become toxic to consume ( they also made a handy substitute for Tobacco in cigarettes ). Then the fish stocks started unexpectedly increasing as fish began growing scales which cut through steel nets.
In North America, honeybees started increasing in population again, resulting in flowers blooming from cracks in the planks of wooden houses, and a suspicious drop in the number of wasps and hornets was revealed to be caused by a chemical emitted by the flowers which was toxic to the predatory insects.
In South America, trees began to grow in the middle of fields in a matter of weeks, forcing constant logging to fight back against an overcompensating rainforest.
Rangers in Africa were the first to notice that Ivory confiscated from poachers was starting to rot, making it worthless without an Elephant or Rhino to support it. New species were discovered in increasing numbers by gold miners in jungles, including everything from viruses and prions to previously unseen subspecies of large wildcats.
Europe was unexpectedly hit by a plague of mice, who had somehow figured out how to swarm and mad-dash for cooked food and ingredients in order to confuse humans and provide safety in numbers. Trees grew thicker, tougher trunks as they sprouted from cracks in streets and crept in from the pockets of vegetation in cities.
In Australia, the rabbit population finally started to decline as plants began producing a toxin specifically tailored to the rodent's cellular structure. A wave of patients entered hospitals as attacks by venomous animals became more common. The problem became so bad that an evacuation of the rural areas was made in a manner not seen since the refugee crisis of the 2010s, and with a strong resemblance to the evacuations of cities in Britain during WWII.
Asia remained relatively untouched, likely due to the isolated nature of the various sections of the continent. Still, to this day the bamboo continues to creep up the sides of the Himalayas and into the Mongolian steppes.
Antarctica started to get weird last. Melting ice caps, while not severe enough to substantially raise sea levels, caused pockets of isolated microbes to release ancient viruses and bacteria onto the landscape, which surprised scientists when they started showing signs of clumping into multi-cellular arrangements adapted to the extreme cold.
We thought it could n't get any stranger when our pets and livestock began to skew away from their bred traits and towards traits suited to where they were living...
Just last week, the first human born with a strange `` birth defect'' was analysed by doctors. They found she had a spine which was perfectly suited to bipedal locomotion, ending the 2 million year reign of the flawed human backbones which were vestiges of our quadrapedal ancestors.
The times are a changing.
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Subsets and Splits