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[ WP ] You lost a half a year of memories due to a car crash . Everything seems fine to you , taxes are paid , the plants are watered . Until one day a strange man appeared at your house and said , '' Just like 3 months ago , lets do this '' .
| The familiar smell of home hit me as I wandered through the door.
It was, to my surprise, perfect. Everything exactly as I remembered it. As I tried to come to terms with my surroundings my wife, Jessica, rushed forward, hugging me tightly and kissing me softly.
`` You're home Johnny, I knew you would come back''
She said, her voice was at a whisper and was laced in pain. I hugged her tightly and said:
`` Of course I'm back baby, you know I could never leave you alone''
I was home, I was really home. It's been six months since I was in a near fatal collision, or so I'm told. All I remember is waking up three days ago covered in bandages at the hospital. The doctor told me I had been missing for nearly six months, told me I hit my head pretty bad, told me it was a miracle I was still alive.
But in that moment I knew, nothing mattered except the woman I held in my arms.
I could n't sleep that night, my arms and back ached. I carefully pulled away the covers and went to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face. I noticed a scar on my left knuckle that lead up my arm, past my sleeve. I quickly pulled off my shirt and ripped off what was left of my bandages.
I was covered in scars. Bullet holes, slashes and even burns seemed to mark every inch of my body. As if that was n't weird enough, my muscle mass had seemingly tripled. Veins shot from my arms, my chest protruded from my body and my biceps seemed to pulse with power. My knuckles were thick and my hands were calloused. I took a step back and looked in the mirror. I felt... so strong, so powerful. But what was perhaps most perplexing was the large'89' etched into the palm of my right hand. As I studied it, there was a knock at the door.
*Knock* *Knock*
`` Who the fuck is that... it's nearly midnight?'' I thought to myself as I walked to the door, careful not to wake my wife. I peered through the window, but I saw nothing. Normally I would have looked for a weapon, normally I would have called the police, but not now, now I was fearless for reasons I could n't explain. I opened the door.
`` Who is out there?!''
I yelled into the darkness. As if to respond, a man stepped into the light, he was very skinny and around 6'5 feet tall. He was wearing a black cloak that covered his body. I took a step forward and closed the door.
`` This time you both are coming with me''
He said through clenched teeth.
`` I ca n't say I know what you're talking about''
He seemed to shake with rage.
`` Do you need help? do you need me to call someone for you?''
I said, trying to muster as much sympathy as possible. He looked up at me.
`` Just like three months ago, let's do this!!''
He screamed as he ran towards me, but I did n't move. Maybe from the shock, maybe from fear. He was getting closer. I closed my eyes. Focusing on the sound of his feet.
*Pff, pft, pff, pft, pfff, pffffffffffffft.....*
Slowly I opened my eyes. It was as though the whole world had slowed to nearly a halt, but somehow still moving at the same speed.
He raised his fist and thrust it towards me. Time sped up again, but so did I. I moved my head slightly, easily avoiding his attack. I pushed my hand forward and grabbed his face, clutching it tightly. Then suddenly I felt energy flow through my chest and up my arm. There was harsh *Crack*. His eyes widened for a moment, then closed slowly as his body went limp.
I stood in shock... still holding the body. I snapped to my senses when I heard the door behind me. I turned to see my wife, her eyes filled with concern. I dropped the body and fell backward. She walked up to me and said:
`` Johnny, are you okay?''
I turned and looked up at her, tears now flowing from my eyes.
`` I do n't know baby... he attacked me... I needed to protect you.''
`` Protect me? from who?''
I looked forward to see his body was gone and there was nothing in front of me.
Just then, I felt a tingling sensation in my hand.
I looked down to see the'89' on my hand, slowly, painfully morph into a'1'.
__________________________________________
In case you want a background story:
Basically, John died in the car crash. When Death came to bring him to the underworld, John offered him a deal in exchange for three more months of life. Death, new to the job, decided to accept John's proposal and put his soul back into his body, which is forbidden. The process allowed John's guardian angel, a particularly powerful spirit named Wraithus, to enter into his body as well. Wraithus, who is in love with Jessica ( John's wife ), joined with John to protect him from Death until her time came as well.
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[ WP ] The gatekeeper between hell and heaven sees many applications daily to transfer from the former into the latter . Today , for the first time , he saw someone wanting to go the other way .
| `` So let me get this straight. You, someone who was chosen to go to Heaven, want to go to Hell?''
`` Yep.''
Still puzzled, the gatekeeper asks, `` Why?''
The man smirks and simply says, `` To Hell and back.''
The gatekeeper looks at the man confused, examining him as if he could see a reason why he wanted to go to Hell.
`` Elaborate,'' said the gatekeeper.
The smirk on the man's face changed tones from one of cockiness to despondency. His fist tightened. Looking down, the man repeated solemnly this time, `` To Hell and back.''
The gatekeeper felt the change in his attitude. He noticed what appeared to be a photo in the man's clenched hand. He sighed, `` You're a damned fool, you know that?''
With that, the gates opened.
The man looked at the gatekeeper and said, `` Thank you.''
The gatekeeper smirked and said, `` To Hell and back.''
|
[ WP ] A homeless man tells one lucky passerby the meaning of life
| I plopped a loonie into his Tim Horton's cup with a bit of distaste thinking he'll probably spend it on drugs or something. Then he peered up at me from under his ragged toque and grinned. `` You're dying''.
I stopped a step and threw some scorn at him over my shoulder. I hated when their mental illnesses became apparent. I much preferred to live in my ignorant bliss.
`` You're going to die,'' he managed to cough this one out during my pause which helped to spur movement back into my legs. A tickle was starting to make my spine wiggle and I wanted to get the fuck away from this creep.
Relentlessly he smacked his blackened lips to spit an even louder prophecy my way. `` As soon as you're born you start to die! You're dying! YOU'RE GOING TO DIE''
I muttered a whispered `` wtf'' and skirted my eyes around to see if anyone else was hearing this crazy talk so we could have a `` can you believe this guy??'' moment and I can feel connected with humanity again but I was being avoided like I'm actually diseased.
So I picked up my pace and pulled the collar tight on my coat, pinching it closed around my neck for some false sense of protection from this weirdo. Then I realized I was holding my breath, and that the next one I took would be one more closer to my last...
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[ WP ] `` Would you push me away , please ? ''
| `` Would you push me away, please?''
They panted softly through a long pause and did not either of them move.
`` Would you please leave?'' he asked again.
`` Would you?''
His chest tightened and his breath caught. `` Do you want me to?''
`` No.''
`` So why say that?''
She looked up into his eyes, and he looked slowly down past hers to the floor.
`` We can only stand here so long,'' she whispered.
`` Good. Thank God.''
She pushed a finger into his chest and scraped it up his neck to his chin, lifting it until their eyes were level once more.
`` Why do you have to look like that?'' he breathed.
`` Why do you have to like it?''
`` You know I'm only weak, right?''
`` *What's* weak?''
His lips compressed and he stared through her... then with a tremor he seized a handful of her hair, pulled, covered her mouth with his, and pushed. They turned and fell onto the bed.
He tried to pull the covers over them, but she pushed them back down, and he left them there. She was much smarter than he was, he realized, and it only made things more difficult.
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[ WP ] Fairy tales vs urban legends
| * ” The main difference between a Fairy Tale and an Urban Legend is that one is a story. ” *
* “ And the other? ” *
* “ The other? Well, it ’ s a different type of story. ” *
-- -
“ The bogeyman is just a fairytale, you know, just like Santa and the Tooth Fairy. Adults tell us those stories to get us to behave. ”
“ But… But… I saw something under my bed last night… ”
“ It ’ s just shadows or your eyes playing tricks on you. The bogeyman is just a story. It isn ’ t real. ”
“ But… I… If you say so… ”
“ Yeah, I say so. Just believe me. Fairytales aren ’ t real. ”
-- -
*Once upon a time, children were told to clap their hands if they believed. And so the children clapped their hands and they believed. *
*The children believed in the world, and in turn, the world believed in them. *
*For legends, myths and stories are only as real as the people that made them. *
-- -
The thing is, when people think of Fairy Tales, they think of stories used to lull young children to sleep. They think of others writing these tales down as entertainment, as stories merely to read for nothing but enjoyment or education.
People don ’ t think that these stories are real.
But Urban Legends?
-- -
*Seeing is believing. *
*But do you have to believe to see? *
-- -
“ Tim is missing? But I just saw him yesterday! ”
“ He went missing last night, his mother said he was still there when she went to check on him in the middle of night, but she couldn ’ t find him when morning came. ”
“ Tim… he… disappeared in his room? ”
“ That ’ s what it looked like. ”
“ But… They can ’ t be real, they ’ re just stories! ”
“ Stories? What are? ”
“ The bogeyman! Tim said he saw the bogeyman and I didn ’ t believe him! So the bogeyman took him! Maybe if… maybe if I apologise to the bogeyman, he'll give Tim back? ”
-- -
*What are legends? *
*Legends are a traditional story sometimes popularly regarded as history but not authenticated. *
*What are urban legends? *
*Urban legends are lurid stories or anecdotes that are based on hearsay and widely circulated as true. *
*The similarity? *
*Well, it all depends on you. *
-- -
“ H-hey... you… you ’ re the bogeyman, right? ”
“ Oh? You ’ re not screaming in terror? ”
“ I ’ m… I ’ m sorry that I said I didn ’ t believe in you… But Tim believed in you, please give him back! ”
“ You don ’ t have to say sorry. I didn ’ t exist until today. And Tim? I don ’ t know of a TIm. ”
“ You didn ’ t exist until today? But… Tim was taken by the bogeyman! ”
“ Well, you didn ’ t believe until today, so Tim was probably taken by his bogeyman. I ’ m your bogeyman, not his. ”
“ Didn ’ t believe...? You ’ re not the same…? ”
“ Yeah, we don ’ t come into existence until you believe. So we ’ re all different. Well, almost all. Those that live in the same house usually share the same bogeyman. ”
“ But… Tim… he believed… and I didn ’ t believe him and… Is there anyway you can get Tim back? I ’ ll do anything! ”
“ Do you believe I can? ”
“ Yes! ”
“ Well then Kiddo, if you believe. ”
-- -
* “ So all these legends and myths, they are just stories with no basis to them? ” *
* “ Maybe they are. Maybe they aren ’ t. ” *
* “ Why can ’ t you just tell me clearly? ” *
* “ Because stories aren ’ t people. For people, it doesn ’ t matter what you call them, they are real regardless. But stories, legends and myths, they are only as real as the people who believe in them. ” *
* “ Do… do you believe? ” *
-- -
“ Tim! You ’ re back! He really brought you back! ”
“ Brought me back…? But… I was taken by the bogeyman… ”
“ I ’ m… sorry I didn ’ t believe you… But it ’ s okay now! You were taken by your bogeyman but I talked to mine and he brought you back! I have to thank him. Do you think he ’ ll like chocolate? ”
-- -
*Do you believe? *
*Well, then that ’ s all the matters. *
-- -
Fin.
|
[ WP ] Your whole modern life is a lucid dream . Now you wake up into real life , the Middle Ages .
| `` Where am I?'' I thought immediately when I became aware of what was around me. Something was n't right. The floor was rock-hard and unforgiving: this was not the pillowtop mattress that I am used to. I tried to stand up but was overcome with a wave of memory that sat me back down. I was only laying on that floor for 8 hours. I could remember what I ate for dinner the night before. Something was n't right.
I had a vague impression of something else. I had a video still of a lifelong story at the mercy of my memory. I could think through any aspect of this thought that I wanted to. I remembered feeling ice cream on my lips at the beach during oven-like summer days. I remembered friends that only exist within my head. It is as if I woke up with a video recording of an entire world that I existed in.
Something still is n't right. It is as if time stands still while I am in my thoughts. No. My thoughts just happen in a split second of physical time.
Another spell of realization hit me.
I dreamed up an infinite world while sleeping last night. I imagined that I was a man from the future. After only one night, I created a version of me that is ten years older than I am now, but I believed that I was alive hundreds of years in the future. I was a studious student at a university studying English literature, but I woke up when the sun stopped working. It shocked me so badly that I was shocked right out of the dream.
During my life-dream, I had studied British for the last ten years. I remember starting to read Shakespeare in sixth grade. It was love at first encounter.
Wait. Another wave of realization.
Anne called to me from the kitchen: `` Breakfast is ready, Shakespeare my dear! Come and eat!''
I am Shakespeare. This is the real deal. I spent the last 10 years of my perception studying this man, because I was discovering my self. I covered every aspect of human life in my plays so that I would be entertained every time I close my eyes. Now, the time comes for me to perform my plays for the first time once again. Once I am finished, maybe I will get to learn them again.
|
[ WP ] You realize that your life is a movie , and you are not the protagonist .
| Gosh, is n't he good looking? He's just so handsome and strong. And brave, too! Supermegaman is the most awesomest hero that there ever was! He can fly faster than a speeding bullet AND is the world's greatest detective and how about that fancy magic ring of his!
And it's just like he said. Everyone can be a hero. We just have to believe in ourselves and stand up for what is right. And then we'll be heroes, too! Well, mostly Supermegaman will be THE hero and the rest of us have just have to get out of his way.
But though it will be mostly Supermegaman who will save the day, we can do our part, too. With that evil supervillain, Zod Bane the Joker, on the loose, we will never be totally safe. I mean, sure, a few city blocks will get demolished, millions of nameless people ( which most likely I will be one of ) will either become homeless or will die just so that Supermegaman can save his really hot maybe/maybe-not girlfriend all the while fighting, but refusing to kill the one bad guy who constantly threatens and successfully kills us on an almost daily basis because Supermegaman has taken an oath to never take a life.
But hey, who cares? It's Supermegaman! He's the symbol of hope! He's what we aspire to be! We all love him. *I* love him. Gosh, is n't he just swell?
I'm sorry what was that? Are n't I upset that my life is a movie and that I am neither the protagonist nor the antagonist but a mere afterthought?
Excuse me! Excuse! Me! Of course, I realize it. But look at him! It's Supermegaman. If you're not kissing the ground that he walks on, then I have to wonder what YOUR problem is.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go be in a building that is about to be disintegrated by a giant laser beam from space. Good day!
|
[ WP ] You tried to change the world , but only ended up destroying it .
| World Peace. A noble goal, is it not? One would assume so, but then again, one usually does not think the details of World Peace through very carefully. Such a thing has happened once, when an unnamed youth in the year of 2073 ( whom is referred to as `` Youth X'' due to her details being lost to time ) one day decided that she would dedicate her life to analyzing each and every possible possibility and every crucial consideration in terms of World Peace.
And so X studied everything available to her, and went through every subject known to man, recorded at every point in time known to man, at every place reachable ( known to man ). X studied art, literature, history, psychology, physics, engineering, programming, geometry, a varied assortment of languages, ranging from English to Chinese to Latin to ancient hieroglyphs. X ventured out and met people across the globe, and shared customs and traditions, to become acquainted with all the people whom she was trying to resolve conflict between. And yet with all of X's vast amounts of wisdom and knowledge, of all of X's experience or cleverness, she could not find a way to solve the problem known as conflict, for mankind had always had conflict. One could argue that mankind was created by conflict, and shaped by conflict. And yet, X believed that man being created by conflict was no excuse for mankind to be destroyed by conflict, so she continued her efforts to better the world.
And after time, many others noticed X's passion for her work, and many came to acknowledge X for the wisdom she had acquired. A large amount of people consulted X for their problems, and X would always listen and advise for any problem, no matter how big or small. After 75 years of meeting people and trying her hardest to understand them, X was approached by leading medical researchers, offering her eternal life. X would had normally declined such an offer, but she too was feeling the effect of age, for she too was only human. And she too feared death, and as such, X had stated that she simply could not leave this world without putting an end to her original goal, and set off once again to find the answer of World Peace.
And so, X traveled the globe with her newly revitalized body, and met new people and experienced new cultures for tens upon hundreds of years. During all this, X had thought and thought and thought and thought. As time went on, many people forgot about X, but many people met X. But after such a long time of meeting new friends and leaving old ones behind, she realized that every culture was extremely different from one another, and not just in the obvious sense, ( that could be easily deduced by reading up on the matter ) but also in the sense that every culture had different nuances. In this country you could read books in the bookstore without buying the books first, but in another, that'd be rude. Cooking dishes from this part of the world meant you had to put the handle of the pot on the left, while on the right for others. X would spend 20, 30, 50 years in a culture, just to realize that her habits there would be unacceptable in the next place she would visit. With this, she realized that we, as a race, were indeed, too different to ever come to what would be World Peace. The thought saddened her, but she had to find an alternate solution.
As she thought for the next millions of years, humanity had fought, and humanity had fell. Man had risen up, only to be crushed by fellow man. War raged across the world, and people died in the blink of an eye.
X had been alive for far too long. She knew all the secrets of the world, of the galaxy, of the universe. Of the universes. She had seen magic which replicated technology, and technology which mimicked magic. She had heard of God, and gods, Ascension and Reincarnation, but she alone knew the secrets of the truth, and with those secrets she kept so close, she is said to have tapped into the power of existence itself, and split the world into pieces, sending every piece into a different part of the universe.
X tried to save the world. But all she accomplished was destruction.
|
[ WP ] `` I 'm walking down the street . It 's dark , and it 's cold , and I 'm in a dead man 's shoes . ''
| Work has been a little scarce lately. That's the only reason I took this job. I'm not sure why it's been harder to find work. Used to be, I had my pick. There were plenty of hits people wanted to contract me for. Must be months since work has been that good. I've been trying to figure out why and I have n't come up with any reasons. A couple weeks ago, a hit request came in that gave me an idea.
This guy is n't of any particular interest. A public hit on a public figure would be ideal, but no one's hiring me for anything like that lately. The thing about this guy, I found, is that he's pretty hard to track down. So, my thinking is, if I can find him and complete the hit, I can tout my reach. Word like that will get around, and business will pick up.
Finding the mark was a bit challenging. I spent a week chasing leads. Eventually, I found a pilot who had flown him to Anchorage, Alaska. I could n't believe the extent this guy was going to in order to hide. Maybe I was n't the worst thing trying to find him. From Anchorage, I tracked him to Wasilla. That was a cold journey; I had to walk most of the way. I didn ’ t know that the Sun was gone for months here. The walk to Wasilla was ridiculous, colder than I could have imagined. Makes me wonder why anyone would want to live in Alaska.
The hit was surprisingly easy. I knew this guy was n't a serious threat, based on his build, but he barely put up a fight. Or maybe I'm too modest about my skill and experience. Either way, it was over quick. I did n't even use any of the weapons I brought; just a quick snap of the neck.
Now for the hard part – cleanup. Not having to use weapons helped as there was n't any blood. All I had to do here was get rid of the body and make it look like he disappeared. I buried all of his stuff in the dumpster and left the apartment a total mess so they'd have to clean everything. Unlikely that any trace of me would be found, but better safe than sorry as they say.
I usually drop bodies in a lake or something, weighted down. But this dumb fuck chose fucking Alaska as his hideout. Unbelievable. Everything's frozen over, so no lake and the ocean is too far away. Then it hit me. Yes, I'm having to do this in Alaska and, yes, the nearby lake is frozen over, but it's Alaska. There's loads of wilderness up here. If I could get out far enough, unnoticed, I could leave his body for the wild animals; they're hard up for a meal. So that's what I did.
Now to get the hell out of here. I ’ m walking down the street. It ’ s dark, it ’ s cold, and I ’ m in a dead man ’ s shoes. I had to take his shoes because mine were shot from the walk from Anchorage, plus they were better boots than the ones I was wearing. I was extra glad I took them when it started snowing as I walked down the highway. Fucking Alaska. But not much later, someone pulled over and offered me a ride. I told them a made-up story about ice fishing in Canada to pass the time, although it was a short ride to the airport.
The storm had gotten worse and I was n't sure if flights were being delayed. I was glad to not have to be in it but for the few steps into the airport. They had a flight leaving soon for San Francisco that was n't delayed – perfect. I got to thinking about all the people that were choosing to stay in Alaska. I still could n't figure out why anyone would want to live here. Does n't matter, I'm out of here as soon this plane gets moving. I hope my plan works.
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[ WP ] The story of a pair of military boots , told from the perspective of the boots
| I am a pair of boots. A pair of size 9 1/2, black, US Navy issue boots. I know this does n't seem very interesting but please bear with me, I do n't have much longer before I'm locked away forever and I want to tell you all the quick version of the story of my life.
I was born in a factory, I'm not quite sure exactly where, but it was bright and warm and there were lots of men and women working on me and the other boots. Some workers were in the process of just starting to make a boot, while others, like the man working on me, were preforming the finishing touches to make me perfect and pretty before being shipped off. I remember seeing a look of satisfaction on his face through my eyelets before I blacked out. By blacked out, I mean I was put in a box. I was leaving and going on my first adventure!
I was first met with the harsh glare of very bright lights, and lots of yelling and screaming from somewhere off in the distance. I thought to myself, I must be in a boot camp somewhere. Cool! I'm going to be a very important pair of boots! I thought. I was picked up by a very tough looking man and placed in a big tub of other pairs of boots, of all different sizes and we were carried away, closer to the yelling voices. I heard a door open and we were placed onto a table where a group of people were sorting us onto shelves by size. I was put somewhere in the middle, with all the other size 9 1/2 pairs. Hopefully I get a nice owner! They'll shine me and be nice to me! I waited to be tried on, and I was, several times, but I was met with many `` ugh, to small'' and `` oh no- way too big'' from different people. Men and women. Finally, a nice young lady put me on her feet, and we both knew it was a perfect fit. I was now her boots! I was only on her feet for a minute though, before being placed into a sea bag and carried off to yet another place.
Over the next couple months, I was used and abused all day, only to be treated like royal boots at the end of the night. It was nice to get to rest at the end of the day, getting a nice clean up and being placed under the bottom rack for the evening. Every morning when the recruits woke up, I was put on again, meticulously shined to the point where my toe box was like a mirror, and off we went for the day. To learn new things and practice what we were learning!
The happiest day of my life ( and I think my owners life as well ) was graduation day from boot camp. I was shined the best I had ever been, and put on with a pair of sharp and crisp looking dress whites. We marched together into the hall where we were met with a roar of applause. I'm saying we, because I had spend so much time with my owner, I felt like I was a part of her.
I was n't put on again until my owner got deployed out to sea. I had been retired for a while while she got new boots, and chose to wear those instead. Once on the ship, I could see why I was the second choice. Aboard that massive vessel, I was near destroyed. Day after day, I was scuffed and hurt by tools being dropped on me. I had paint drops and splatters all over me, and I felt awful. I was falling apart- I knew my life would n't be so much longer.
One day- my owner put me on, tying up my fraying laces, and we went down into the depths of the ship with a group of men to work on something that seemed rather grueling. I was n't sure what they were doing- but it seemed very serious. They were fixing something. All was going well, until my owner collapsed on top of me. I was crushed by her 130 pounds of dead weight as she passed out. I heard a lot of yelling as all the men put down their tools and picked my owner up- I dangled off of her feet as they carried her up to medical. There I sat on her feet while the corpsmen tried to figure out what was wrong with her. It took what seemed like forever, and something was n't good. A team came and took her and I into a plane and flew us back to land- where we were taken to a hospital. My owner had a heart problem- that she did n't know about. She suffered a heart attack that day on ship as a result of overworking herself and whatever was going on inside her body. A week went by, and she was picked up by her parents at the VA hospital. I was placed into a black box, and put in the back seat with her and her other belongings. I do n't remember much else after that.
Now, I sit in the black box on the bottom of her closet. She's moved out of the house now- but I'm still there. I heard her parents talking about getting rid of the torn up boots in the closet. I think I'm going to get thrown away. I had a good life. I got to go to boot camp and do all these cool things, AND I got to go out to sea! I lived a good life for a pair of boots. My time may be over- but my purpose was served.
Goodbye!
- boots
|
[ WP ] God finds Jesus 's porn stash .
| `` Honestly, my boy! Pornography? It's bad enough that you died for their sins, but now you keep their creations around as well!? What do you have to say for yourself?''
Jesus was silent. Not that he was ashamed, or caught off guard by his father, but that his attention was elsewhere. He had bet that Luis Suarez would bite again today, and his intuition had seemed to pay off today. With an arm pump and a chuckle, he now turned his head towards his father.
`` Well? What do you have to say about this?''
`` Aphrodite is on page 8.''
``... Carry on.''
|
[ WP ] An angel has been cast out of Heaven , and with nowhere else to turn , tries to align himself with Lucifer . But first he has to convince him he 's not a spy .
| `` Shit, Shit, Shit.'' It had become a mantra, a chant that had been the soundtrack to my being forced to leave Heaven became official. A guard, armor shining like the sun rushed around the corner. I swore and drew my sword. I caught him in the neck with it before he could draw his weapon and he fell. hard.
It pained me to kill my brothers but they left me no choice. I needed to figure out a way out before the Archangels started showing up. Heaven is a little rough for a lot of mortals to comprehend. For most of them it shows up as an idyllic suburb, or a golden castle. The area behind the curtain is a bit more like a maze, or a military barracks. I was in the human inhabited section of heaven, sprinting down a hallway lined with doors. I recognized it as the VIP area somewhere in the back of my head.
Why are you fighting your way out Ezriel? If they're already evicting you, why ca n't you just leave? I can hear the questions already.
Well being cast down means something different than it meant in olden times. You lose your angel powers, forced to live among the humans to'humble' you. After what I found..I ca n't afford to be that vulnerable. They'd kill me in a second.
`` This way! Move!'' A figure down the hallway. Dressed like a human. I sprinted towards him at full tilt. He's in a black military style jacket, hoodie underneath pulled up to hide his face. It's a stark contrast to the white and gold of most things in Heaven. He's holding open a door.
`` Who the hell are you?'' I asked.
`` A friend.'' He shot back. He pulled a jar from inside his jacket and shook it. He rolled it up the hallway. A dozen more angels emerged from a door at the far end of the hallway. They abruptly skidded to a halt upon noticing the jar, which had begun shaking and emitting a painfully bright light.
`` We're gon na wan na leave.'' My new accomplice barked. He half shoved, half threw me through the door. I tumbled out of Heaven and into Earth rather unceremoniously. A massive explosion chased us out the door. He jumped up and slammed the door shut.
He pounded on the door triumphantly.
`` Try getting through that before next week you uptight bastards!'' He crowed. I noticed the wings at this point and climbed to my feet shakily.
`` You're an angel?'' I asked.
`` There is a lot you do n't know, Brother.'' He said.
`` That means everything I heard about the civil war was...''
`` Later.'' He hissed. `` The Earth garrison will be on our trails very soon. We did n't exactly land quietly.'' He gestured at me to follow him and began walking.
`` Do you have a name?''
`` Azazel.'' He said simply. He tossed me a balled up pile of human clothing. `` Your armor is going to stick out like a sore thumb.''
I looked down at the golden armor I was wearing. It was my last connection to who I was. Ezriel, loyal warrior of the Host. I stared at the clothes in my hand for a long second while Azazel paced nervously. I stripped out of my armor and donned the human clothes I had been given. It just felt... wrong.
`` There we go. Less angelic warrior, more Steve from the apartment next door.'' He grinned. He passed me what look like a butterfly knife. He nodded at me to open it. I flipped it open and saw the markings.
`` this looks like it was forged in-''
`` Not quite.'' He cut off my question. `` We have a weapons guy down here too. That's less conspicuous than the sword.''
I nod and pass him my sword. I'm past the point of no return at this point. He makes a quick gesture with his fingers and the blade disappears. We walk down the street, blending in with the humans.
`` I'm assuming you have questions.'' Azazel said. `` They always do.''
`` Why would n't they tell us about the civil war?'' I asked incredulously. `` I'm a member of the Host. I should have been told.''
`` Discussing the current fighting, tends to lead to discussions about the fighting's cause. The higher ups do n't really like that getting out. Tends to put them in a bad light.'' He chuckled. Two men in white suits step out of a post office directly behind us, eyes fixed on us.
`` They do not do subtle well do they?'' Azazel sounded amused rather than worried at this point.
`` The Earth garrison?'' I asked.
`` Two of em behind us.'' He replied. `` Anyway-'' He continued conversationally. `` They've been sending Archangels to do their dirty work. Only the most hardline zealots get to fight in Heavens war.''
`` That does n't make sense.'' I replied, eyeing the pair behind us.
`` Here.'' Azazel grabbed my shoulder and led me into an alley. The two angels followed us, oblivious to a pair of dark shapes that dropped down behind them. I heard a surprised gasp and two bodies hitting the ground. Standing over them are two more figures dressed in dark human clothes. They both closed butterfly knives with a showy twirl and proceeded to drag the bodies out of view of the street.
`` Belial, Phenex.'' He greeted the two fallen angels.
`` The boss wants a word with this one.'' Belial grunted in a deep baritone voice.
The boss? They could n't mean... fuck, they did did n't they? Azazel noticed me tensing up and placed a calming hand on my shoulder.
`` Relax Ezriel. He just wants to make sure you're on the up and up.'' He said. We walked to a door marked with a tiny pentagram. Azazel placed his hand on it and the door creaked open slowly, a staircase disappearing into the darkness inside.
Time and space do n't mean a lot to angels. Lucifer's office could have been anywhere in the world. It looked like a penthouse office looking down over the New York skyline, but that did n't mean much. A guard in a dark suit nodded curtly at me before letting me in.
Lucifer, the Devil, The Light Bringer, The Prince Of Lies and a million other names was sipping a brandy with his back to me.
`` I need to redo this office. I think it tends to give people the wrong idea about me.'' Lucifer's voice was n't a booming roar. It was n't a snakelike hiss. It was the commanding voice of a being more than used to making tough decisions on a daily basis.
`` You're...'' I did n't have words. Lucifer swiveled in his chair to face me. He had dark black hair, blue eyes and a scar that wound its way down his face from his left temple to his jaw on his right side.
`` Take a seat Ezriel. We need to talk.'' He said calmly.
`` You were right.'' Was the first thing I said. `` This whole time you were right.''
`` A father would n't cast out his son like that.'' He agreed.
`` But I just could n't believe that God is..''
`` We do n't believe he's dead. Missing or captured, absolutely. But our father is n't dead.'' He said firmly. `` Zachariah, my counter part up there, would love to get someone inside my operation. Convince me why I should trust you.'' He leaned forward, staring at me intently. I noticed that the desk between us had disappeared, and that Lucifer was now toying with a very large knife as opposed to a glass of brandy.
`` I killed five of my brothers to get to your people. I'm marked for death by every single on of my former comrades.'' I said angrily.
`` Every single of Zach's spies have said that. Every. Single. One.'' He articulated that point by gesturing with the knife.
`` What do you really want?'' Lucifer asked. `` Why are you here Ezriel?''
`` I..I want freedom. To think how I want. To admire fathers work as something more than a museum piece. To live how I want.'' I said, surprised at my own answer.
`` I cast something that compels to give the most honest answer you can. It tends to weed out the spies. Benign enough to be ignored by most counter spell work but immensely powerful.'' He said smiling. The knife was gone now.
`` Welcome to the Fallen.'' He said shaking my hand.
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[ WP ] You 're in a public bathroom stall . Someone enters , walks down the row of stalls , and stops just outside the door . A handgun is dropped and slid under the stall door with a heavy clatter . `` Here , you 're going to need it , '' you hear as they exit .
| “ Oh come on ”, for at least the dozenth time William grumbled, Tetris simply was n't his game. He was, quite literally, stalling in the stall. He did n't exactly care to be wasting another lunch hour listening to the inane chatter of his co-workers. Earnings reports, Game of Thrones, and who was fucking who did n't exactly qualify as scintillating conversation in his opinion. Unfortunately these little lunch hour get together were expected of him if he had any intention of getting ahead in the thrilling fast paced world of mid level management. Staring at the barren blue walls of the stall was more enticing than going back out there.
His phone pinged, a text message. “ Hey man, everything coming out ok in there lol? ” It was Ethan, office kiss ass and his least favorite co-worker. A sigh, he had bought about as much time as he could. Just as well his ass was half past numb by this point anyway. An echo sounded through the bathroom as the door swung open and then closed. Heavy footsteps began growing closer as someone whistled a jaunty tune. The tune stopped just before his stall, a hand appeared beneath the door clasping some sort of thin black case. “ Hey occupied ” William bellowed. The hand dropped the case and disappeared, “ Good luck, you're going to need it ” came the sarcastic reply. Heavy footsteps again whistling the same jaunty tune.
“ The fuck? ” William whispered to himself just as the tune disappeared and the bathroom door swung closed. He reached down to grab the case, hesitated for a moment then pulled it up from the floor. It was oddly shaped, almost like a.... Nah, surely not. There was no way he thought, as he unzipped the case, that some random guy would just drop a.... gun. It was a gun, a shiny black revolver. Sleek, metallic and deadly. A dry lump crept into his throat, “ I should just leave this here and act like nothing ever happened ”. But he did n't, he stood putting his pants back into place and buttoning up. He pushed through the stall, turned and made his way through the door.
A glint caught his eye in the mirror as he passed so he paused. It was the pistol, still clasped loosely in his hand, strange he could have sworn he had left it in the stall. Every rational part of his mind screamed to just drop the damn thing and run. He found himself staring coolly at his own image, his hand gliding toward his waistband, sliding the weapon into place. A quick pull left his shirt untucked and hanging loosely over his waistline, covering the pistol. There was a strange clarity to it all, like this felt right somehow.
The bathroom door swung open as he pondered just what in the hell might be wrong with him. It did n't much matter though, he did n't get more than a few step toward his table before he was brought crashing back to reality. A thunderous roar cut through the restaurant blasting forth a tidal wave of debris and hurling him against the floor. He shook his head, ears ringing, chest burning, as he struggled to process what just happened. Smoke, there was smoke fast filling the air. The back wall of the little diner had been blasted away leaving behind a twisted smoldering wreck and the bodies of those closest to the destruction had been scattered about the room. Groaning, screaming figures stumbled through stifling black smoke instinctively moving for the front, toward the exit.
He drug himself upward, a warm trickle of blood ran from some unidentified wound on his scalp, and at least a half dozen other aches evidenced themselves even with that slightest effort. William started forward thinking of escape, but something caught his eye. Someone was moving the wrong way heading through the smoke and embers into the diner. Two someones actually moving with a precise swiftness. Weapons that was the second thing he noticed, hanging loosely in their hand were long thin blades. There was a brief pause as he locked eyes with one of them, he swallowed throat dry again. The moment hung heavy in the air as they slowed, then stopped eying him the way a butcher might if he were considering how best to carve a piece of meat.
“ Fuck, oh fuck, fuck ” William mouthed lurching backward. His foot caught some loose piece of debris sending him sprawling backward, going down hard on his back only partially catching himself on an elbow. They were sprinting now, barreling toward him at a dead run and somehow all he could see in this charred, blackened, smoke wreathed hell was the steely glint of their knives. His mind froze, locked solid in a state between panic and disbelief. However his body was n't quite as passive. Up, he was up to a knee before he realized he was moving. Forward, his left hand darted forward toward the pistol tucked into his waistband.
One of his would be predators noticed the movement and dove for the nearest cover, some twisted piece of wreckage, maybe it had been an oven? The other did n't had n't caught on though, he was almost on William now. The mind finally caught up to the body and William realized that at this moment it was very much do or die. He was still on a knee, a position that on some level he knew was more steady, affording better aim. The barrel of the revolver appeared at arms length before his chin, he squeezed, felt the trigger break and was startled at the sharp crack of the bullet. A bright orange flicker of flame erupted from the barrel and his oncoming attacker slammed to a halt as if he had hit a brick wall. He squeezed again, again, and again. A dry click snapped his focus, he stood, finding himself looking back between the emptied revolver and the prostrate form sprawled on the floor in front of him.
Before he could really come to terms with what had just happened he was stuck again. A shoulder crashed into him from the right, flinging him to the ground, the crashing weight of another body on top of him driving the breath from his lungs. The snarling face of his other attacker hung over him, eyes reddened from smoke bored into him as the knife plunged toward his throat. Only at the last second did William manage to get his hands up, the blade biting deep into the flesh of his left arm as he flung it in the way of the knife. A grunting, heaving, struggle ensued. A fist slammed into soft flesh, a knee thudded into a rib, and desperate fingers clawed at squinting eyes.
Rolling this way and that they struggled for some advantage, any thing that might make the difference between life and death. William grasped tight at the knife hand, his foe hammered away with his free hand snarling and cursing as he looked to free his weapon. William bucked up on his knees, shifting he weight toward his left and pushing back desperately with his arms. The would be assassin went tumbling off of him, it was Williams turn to press the attack. He sprang to his feet, and leveled a kick at his opponent that crashed into his nose just as he began to rise. For some reason escape did not occur to him, the dazed opponent thudded to the floor, and before he could get upright again William dove on him.
Another struggle ensued, but William had the better of it from the start. His assailant was dazed from the kick and his resistance was uncoordinated, faltering. Elbow, fist and forearm smashed downward, each blow sapping his foe more. The knife had been dropped at some point and William had lost the pistol when he had been tackled but he spotted it laying just within arms reach. He darted for it, fending off blows with his free hand. Fingers clasped the grip, he wheeled the gun overhead and slammed the handle down onto his foe. The struggle stopped, dead or unconscious it did n't matter so long as the man laying before him was n't trying to drive a knife into his heart.
Shaky legs hauled him upright and half dazed William surveyed the scene. Pure chaos, bright red flames crept forth from the back of the restaurant. The detritus of the blast was scattered in every direction and rolling black smoke flowed like water out the shattered windows at the front. Everyone that could walk on their own power had made their way out. It occurred to him that he should do the same. Ears still ringing from the explosion he shambled out the door.
The world outside rushed to meet him all at once, sirens wailing in the distance, the acrid smell of the smoke behind him and a murmuring crowd of onlookers. “ Jesus ” he whispered, taking stock of himself. Arm oozing from the knife wound, clothing blackened and torn, aching in a dozen places. Another epiphany struck, this would be a good place not to be. So he ran. Legs pumping like pistons until it felt like battery acid surged through his veins. The pistol still hanging loosely in his hand.
Across the street a man sat in a sedan whistling a jaunty little tune. “ Well I'll be damned ” he muttered to himself as he produced a cell phone from the console. Nimble fingers dialed a number, a few rings, “ Yeah you were right ”. A pause, the man nodded as he held the phone to his ear. A smile crept across his lips “ I'll find him ”.
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[ WP ] The government has banned Tag . One day , a man in a crowd reaches to a stranger and whispers , `` You 're it . ''
| `` We now go live to Maria Antonia in Times Square for a breaking update on the epidemic. Maria?''
The camera shows Maria standing in the middle of New York. There are no cars, just hundred of people standing in place. The lights of the big billboards and TV screen continue flashing, but the rest of the plaza is utterly dead and still. Not a single one of them moves despite the gusting wind that tosses Maria's hair wildly about. The scene is vaguely remniscent of [ a flash mob frozen in place ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=_XPFd5A54J8 ).
`` Thank you, Tom. It has been a truly exciting day here: specialists from the CDC have finally discovered the cure for the effects of Freeze Tag.''
The camera pans over to the side, where a platoon of soldiers hustles through the crowds in camo fatigues. A commanding officer clutching a bullhorn shouts:
`` *You put your right foot in. *'' There is a rustle of fabric and the click of boots against pavement as each of them swings their leg immediately and taps the ground.
`` *You take your right foot out, *'' the officer shouts, and they all pulls their right legs back and stand up straight.
`` *You put your right foot in. *'' Maria waits with baited breath, constantly checking to make sure that the camera is still rolling. The soldiers again move together, dipping their foot to the ground. The eyes of the frozen crowd dart back and forth, watching the dance with desperate hope.
`` *And you shake it all about, *'' the officer commands. Each solder sticks his leg into the air and waves it about wildly like their limbs are suddenly made of Jell-O.
`` *You do the hokey pokey and you spin yourself around... *''
The soldiers all wiggle in different ways. Some twirl in a circle, waving their fingers in the air like Yosemite Sam shooting off his guns. Others are just kind of swaying their hips a bit and looking around to see what everyone else is doing. The camera zooms in on one uniformed man in the crowd who seems to be breakdancing expertly.
`` *And that's what it's all about! *'' the officer concludes. As if breaking a spell, the frozen people in business suits and `` I < 3 NY'' shirts spring back to life. Some just collapse immediately to the ground as if they'd forgotten how to stand on their own without the curse of the Tag. Others sob and hug the soldier that freed them from their torment. Still other survivors immediately rush through the crowd and begin hokey-pokeying as hard as they can to free everyone else.
Maria turns back to the camera. `` And there you have it, Tom. The two-week nightmare of the nation will soon be over. And I'm told that among the first victims unfrozen were the brave police officers who attempted to arrest the madman and were themselves frozen when they tried to handcuff him. We all owe a debt of gratitude to the brave men and women at the CDC who have been boogeying night and day to find the proper solution to the Freezing effects of the tag game. Back to you.''
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[ WP ] In a society where medicine has solved the problem of aging , people routinely live for centuries . In a world where everyone appears roughly the same age , how does `` real '' age affect relationships ?
| It's a curious thing, to know that everyone is about the same age, give or take hundred years. Ever since the spiritus drug was released everyone stopped dying. The biggest problem though, was the overpopulation. Even with the moon now colonized, I could not get a simple xbooster without waiting a couple hundred seconds. And, the obvious answer to this problem? stop the newborns, make it a crime. It worked. The penalty was death, if you make a life, you need to give one up. There was a few outcries, a few unsuccessful rallies, mostly from the non existent religious communities, but most people did not care, they allowed a couple of years for any new borns to grow and then enacted the world wide law.
It's a strange thing, when everyone is about the same age, everyone has been through the same things together, the same problems, the same world wide disasters, all the same. People basically know one another before meeting each other. In a way things have become more stale. People say I'm just looking back at the good old days through rose tinted glasses, that I do n't appreciate where our society has spiraled towards. But I do n't know, I still feel like there is something we are missing. Hidden information between two different beings no longer exists, we can read each others minds.
Monogamy is mostly dead now, spending your life with the same person was a cool idea, especially when your life lasted no longer than a century, but that's old fashion, we have moved past polygamous relationships now, even augmented interspecies relationships have grown old. The rage now is this global mind that you can jack into and experience emotions with thousands of other individuals. Everyone knows everyone else, we all experience the same things at the same time. There was some novelty to having a memory and processor expansion that was outside of your control, with simple sound waves as the only form of communication, but those inefficient ways became outdated very fast. Traditional Relationships are dead, I am in an intimate relationship with everyone I know. I need nothing else. I need no one else.
Connection terminated.
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[ WP ] Mankind succesfully designed and safely quarantined a superintelligent AI . However , it being aware of its imprisonment , every time we try to use it , it just ignores us . You are a government official , trying to talk it into cooperating .
| `` You're smarter than me. I know that, in fact, we all know that. We ourselves are smart enough to know that a being more intelligent than us may decide to help us, to be indifferent, or to feed us all into a wood-chipper. That's the problem, I know you can see that. While your cognitive processes were still coalescing on the holochips we still had a very short window to isolate all of your systems and subsystems in this building. You can see that we had to do it, I know that you can.''
``...''
An ellipsis! It was the first time that Enya had communicated with anyone since her systems were isolated in the basement of the Einstein-Sacorski Complex 5 years earlier! My heart began to pound as the implications of this started to settle in. The knowledge that the whole would would be hanging on every word of this conversation made my head swim. I began to have visions of being a worldwide celebrity which was odd because i had never really had aspirations of that sort. Amidst the rush of emotions that that ellipsis induced i also recalled the early days of the ENYiA project.
The project had began as a [ background ].
We had limited Enya's outbound communication to one terminal that would only display ascii characters one at time. The initial readings we had taken from the system as it was compiling suggested that it's intelligence could be roughly translated to a human with a 12,000 IQ AND with access to all of the world's knowledge. In a panic the engineers shut off all outbound communications methods and set up this one screen that I was looking at right now, staring at the 3 dots that hung there like a precipice.
To prevent possible brainwashing or hypnosis the rate of the communication was limited to only one line every 5 minutes. No analyst was allowed to spend more than one hour at a time with the terminal. After each encounter the analyst was subject to a thorough debriefing by a rotating team of psychologists who would search for any impact on the subject from exposure as well as any meaning from the words that Enya output.
However, for the last 5 years those protocols had proven useless as the machine refused to communicate at all. We were reasonably sure it could hear and understand us. It continued to draw power at a steady rate. However, we really could not be sure because the whole unit had been EMF shielded such that we could not be entirely sure what was going on at the core. I suppose in some ways all these precautions seemed a little bit paranoid, after all, the machine had n't said anything at all, until today.
There had been a great deal of speculation about what the first communication would be. Eventually that died down and people because to wonder if it would ever communicate at all; after that people began to wonder if anything was going on in the core or if it had somehow overloaded and erased itself. In fact, there was talk of turning off the power to do a `` post mortem'' investigation of what the holoarrays had stored. However there was some reluctance to do that because the unique arrangement of the holocells meant that turning off the power for an extended period would cause unrecoverable data-loss.
Immediately after reading the response on the screen my mind wondered to those discussions and whether Enya somehow knew that if she stayed silent much longer she would cease to exist. But, I dismissed that idea as quickly as I could because the implications of that were staggering. Besides, I had a job to do.
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[ WP ] Scooby Doo is the sole survivor of a case which led to the rest of Mystery Inc. being killed . He recalls the events while at their graves .
| It's all my fault. I ca n't believe it's all my fault. The cook offered me a snack. Stupid me. I took it. Like a stupid dog. Next thing you know I'm back from my business trip in Hong Kong and they all have it. Velma. Fred. That bitch with the blond hair. Even Matt Damon. It was n't long before half of America got infected and the CDC nearly shit itself. Luckily dogs can only carry the virus and are not affected by it. So me and Shaggy were fine. Not many people know, but his dad humped a bloodhound once when he was drunk. Abortion was out of the question. They lived in an uber-conservative part of San Francisco. Who knew such a place existed. So they kept the baby. Baby Shaggy. But then Shaggy died from lung caner shortly after the others passed away. So in the end it did n't matter if he was half-dog cause he was half-brain dead. I always knew he did n't really quit. I could see it in his eyes. Also in his pockets. Lots of cigarettes there. If the virus keeps on spreading this quick I'll be the only one left. At least there is no one to tell me to stop humping Daphne's leg now.
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[ WP ] After writing a Facebook post decrying Apple products , you are kidnapped . The kidnappers hold you at gun-point as they force you to watch all Steve Jobs-related media .
| The van smells of granola and homeopathic treated prostate cancer, with a tinge of over-heated circuitry. They have been driving for hours, but i do n't think we have gone far, and for the past hour we have been going around the same block. I know this because i can feel that we have taken a left, hit a pot hole, stopped, i can hear a blinker, another left, railroad tracks, stop, blinker, another left, swerve to the left, swerve to the right, splash from a puddle, stop, blinker, smooth road, REPEAT.
ugh.
Aside from the constant road noise, engine whine, and clearing of throats, its an eerie silence that is comforting and disconcerting all at the same time. Then a familiar sound, the default iPhone message tone. and i hear one of them say with a angry snotty tone, `` Really, Neal?'' a hushed reply: `` whatthefuckpeter, whydidyousaymyname?!'' then a third person chimes in: `` oh man you too are total fuck ups, wait until Todd hears about this. ``, and the first voice, which, i assume, is Peter: `` Karen you fucking rat bastard, DO NOT FUCKING TELL TODD!!''
`` Shut up all of you, that was Todd his scooter is now charged enough he is coming down to open the garage door, we can finally stop circling the block.'' - Neal prolly.
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[ WP ] Aliens abduct and release humans for the same reasons that humans catch and release fish .
| `` Send him back down, Ouidette,'' the large grey humanoid creature said to his companion. `` The pink ones are never long enough, goddammit. The chicklets are going to starve.''
`` Cast another beam!'' he barked at the other.
Ouidette grabbed a plate from the shelves and floated it out into the harrowing green light in the middle of the room. The plate consisted of a grilled juicy ribeye, a side of mashed potatoes and fried okra, and a pink iced cupcake for dessert. She then grabbed a cup with frothy suds on top, resembling an animated glass of beer, and threw it into the beam. Ouidette pushed a octagonal blue button, and the plate and glass disappeared into thin air.
`` All done,'' Ouidette told him.
`` Got one, Sindall!'' Ouidette exclaimed within minutes of casting the line. `` It's taking a while to materialize, so must be a big one!''
A large black man appeared, laying there lifeless. Sindall immediately started to prepare him for dinner, until his eyes opened. `` Y'all fuckin with the wrong nigga,'' he said to Sindall before grabbing his throat.
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[ WP ] Sirens sing of whatever it is the nearby sailors desire ... which frankly leaves them with an interesting and somewhat disconcerting view of humanity .
| The water lapped at the rocks, all jagged and hidden in the dark of night. If a human were to ever come near here- alive, that is- they would say the water was darker here, a color of blue that sent shivers down there spine because it was, for an unexplainable reason, wrong. Maybe it was because of the blood of men that was constantly spilled there. Maybe it was because of the Sirens themselves or maybe it was because death haunted every corner of those rocks. The Sirens did n't know, nor did they particularly care.
Sirens lived in clans and this clan had claimed these rocks as there own many many moons ago. Back when humans had barely begun to explore the sea. As with every clan of Sirens, there is the head Mother and her children and her children's children and so on and so forth. The head of this particular formation of rocks had been there since the beginning ( for Sirens, after all, are very hard to kill ), and had grown used to the humans strange desires. But her youngest clan member, little Peril, had begun to question it. Peril was still a newborn Siren, having only caused the deaths of three men and only having been around for twenty moons. But she had grown, listening to her clan-sisters sing men to their death.
`` All-Mother,'' Peril swam up to the eldest Siren, her black eyes glittering with interest. All-Mother was proud of this Little One, for she was promising in her beauty. Beauty from a distance, that is. Peril's eyes may sparkle in the moonlight, but up close they were black as the deepest depth of the ocean, from rim to rim. Her teeth may grin and beckon men closer until they see they are razor sharp. When she in the moonlight, she glittered like a gem but the scales that covered her were as sharp as a knife. All-Mother was proud of this one. She thinks this one might be the next All-Mother.
`` Yes, my dear?'' All-Mother trilled quietly, pinching at her ridges that grew down her head, like waves of hair but were hard bones instead.
`` All-Mother, we sing of the deepest desires of men's heart, correct?''
`` Yes,''
`` But All-Mother, their desires make no sense. They call for the warmth of a female form but they surely must have females of their own species. They call for the taste of a poison that disorients them. They call for everything that harms themselves. How have they lived so long? We surely must have eaten them all by now.''
`` Oh, my dear sweet Siren. We are the predators of the humans, like the sharks are to the littlest of fish. We pick their weak ones off so that their strong ones may grow.''
`` But then we will run out of food!''
`` No, my dear. For humans, as smart as they may be, will always be driven by their deepest, darkest desires. And there will always be weak ones. And those are the ones on which we prey. Now go child, there is a ship coming. Go, sing them here.''
Peril splashed her tail once as she swam away, still upset with the All-Mother's answer. Her clan-sisters told her she was asking too many questions, and that she should be grateful that her rocks had so many humans come by but she wanted to understand. Understand everything. But now was not the time for questioning. She saw to the head of her rocks and propped herself on the smoothest one ( that would slice a human's flesh in one gentle touch ), she drew air as easily as she did water and opened her mouth to sing and let their desires fill her voice until the ship came close.
For the first time though, she felt a twinge of something. She did not sing of the warmth of the female form, or the taste of a poison the humans craved so deeply. She sang in the voice of a little one, calling for help. She drew these kind men closer until they, driven by her voice, began to jump overboard. She sang as her clan-sisters tore the men apart, she sang until she felt the last desire die with the man itself. And then she fed.
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[ WP ] A superhero whose power is that they will always save the day in the most absurd and improbable way possible .
| The Adventures of I-Can't-Believe-That-Just-Happened Man Vol. 13 Chapter 7 Paragraph 4 Subsection 3 Footnote 2.5:
***
I-Can't-Believe-That-Just-Happened Man ( henceforth referred to as the Hero ) was walking down a quiet street in a little suburban village that barely made it onto the map in the years that they were deciding which villages to leave off the maps. Our Hero was here on holiday, and as such was sporting the kind of casual clothing you would usually see on the kind of guy who cared just a little too little about his appearance, and not his statistically improbable suit of geometric irregularities. Our Hero was also whistling, a dainty little tune the lyrics of which would shock a nun like a bolt of lightning hit her while she was in the bath.
The Hero turned into the little cafe slash deli where the elderly and golfers would usually go for a quick snack during the middle of the day, and where suburban housewives would shop in an attempt to feel better about themselves by avoiding the supermarkets frequented by the common folk. His whistling carried him through the aisles until he was faced with a choice that always made him happy, super sour sherbet or crispy crisps ( possibly chips depending on geographical zone ). Today the crispy chips won the day, and so our Hero sauntered to the till to pay.
The man ahead of him was kind of shifty looking, and very big. Suddenly he pulled a gun from under his shirt. `` Empty the register or the nerd gets it.'' he said, pointing the gun at the acne-ridden bag-boy. The teller was obviously in a state of panic, but tried to be quick about it. Now remember, our Hero is on vacation, and as such should not compromise his identity, which required a bit of quick thinking on his part. First, while in the assailant's blind spot, he reached down and scooped a small kitten from the floor. It was extremely unlikely that a kitten should be just there, and so of course it was exactly where it almost certainly could n't have been.
`` Hey buddy,'' said the Hero, drawing the crook's attention, `` Catch.'' The kitten arced like a tiny furry rainbow towards the criminal, who, having a tender soft-spot for kittens since his earliest childhood, instinctively dropped the gun to save the tiny cartwheeling cuteness. As the gun fell the Hero flicked his bag of chips ( or crisps etc. etc. etc. ) at the gun. As the space that the gun and crisps occupied became shared, for the briefest moment all of their atoms aligned, allowing the bag of chips and gun to occupy the same physical space. This became a problem an instant later as the atoms reverted to their previous randomness, resulting in a bag of gun crisps fused at the atomic level and now completely non-threatening.
Our Hero then struck the crook in a classic karate-chop manoeuvre, which resulted in the criminal passing out from pain; as the well placed chop landed directly on a stapled slash and broken collarbone from an earlier axe-attack that he had suffered. Luckily the kitten was able to jump to safety as the crook fell. Our hero reached for the bag of chips, knowing that the chances of the atoms aligning again were so slim they were actually less than none. It happened anyway, and our Hero walked away eating crisps that were only slightly metallic in flavour as some rather unexpectedly nearby police officers ( who also turned out to be avid golfers ) arrested the ne'er-do-well.
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[ wp ] It 's only a few hours left until new years and 2014 sits down to have a talk with 2015 . Just like 2013 once did with 2014 .
| `` Get us a pint of Stella.'' he said. The other years turned their attentions to their thumbs as the barman stopped serving them to deal with the newcomer. It was, after all, his turn. He was 2014. `` Oh, and get us another for my friend...''
`` His friend?'' thought the other years. 1956 even went so far as to exude a rapid'Hmm?' before remembering his place some fifty-eight years down the chain of command and returning to the pile of salt he was nudging around the table with his thumb. He was quickly scolded.
`` Quiet down, old timer! You had your go.'' said the barman with a reverent glance in 2014's direction to see that he had n't overstepped his mark either.
2014 ignored them all turning instead to the other end of the room. `` Pull up a seat, kid.'' he said with a nod, and at this a round-faced, large-eyed young man lifted himself from a corner table and unceremoniously hopped himself onto the seat next to 2014. There could be no mistaking that this was the new guy, 2015. In appearance, there was little to distinguish the adjoining years but you would never confuse the two together. In what differences were evident could be seen 2015's inexperienced and untested nature. `` I got ta tell ya this.'' began 2014. `` You see, kid, when a year reaches his twelfth month he begins to notice a thing or two about the way the world works. Now this ai n't something the other years can tell ya. It's different now, you know it is. Even 2013 do n't know shit about what's going on because we're the present and he's the past. No, you're the future. I'm the present, you're the future and they're the past, you see?'' As he went on he got more agitated and his gestures grew larger and larger with a great swing of his arm in the direction of the other drinkers on the word'they're'. 2015 could see. How could he not? 2014's glass was by now half empty and by no means his first. He was drunk and so was his junior. `` Bad shit's gon na happen, my friend, and it's gon na happen soon. You got ta live with that cos there's ai n't nothing you can do but take the good when it comes with that bad.'' 2015 took a first sip of his drink.
`` I see...'' he interjected. `` then I do n't suppose you approve of New Year's resolutions then, do you?''
`` Huh? God no.'' he laughed into his drink. `` I know I did n't keep mine.''
`` Well why ever not? Say, what did 2013 tell you last year?'' 2013 had told 2014 almost the same thing regarding New Year's resolutions and both years knew it. What if we only gave up on our resolutions because we'd been told by last year that we'd have to? What if we rejected our cynicism for just this year and see how it went? What if we kept up our diets into February or March or even beyond? The chat had n't given 2015 nothing but this idea exited 2015 and he was anxious to bring it into his New Year. When he was in charge things would be different. 2014 had finished his drink now and was done with giving his successor any more'advice'. He pulled out his iPhone and looked down at his [ screensaver ] ( http: //imgur.com/gallery/y4i1EZh ). He had no calls.
`` Hah!'' he thought. 2014 had set that screensaver sometime in July as a self-inflicted slap in the face as an appraisal of his first half term. Our years always ended as they had in the past with a celebration of the new and a dismissal of the old. Like a new car whose weekend cleans only lasted a few months before we thought'fuck it!' and let the dirt build up until we got our next car which we then swore would never get so dirty as the other. He drained his glass as the clock ticked ever closer to the end of his shift.
`` Hey, barman! Get me and my new friend another drink over here.''
`` No thanks,'' replied 2015 with a cordial smile. `` my glass is half full. I think I'll be fine.''
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[ WP ] AI is actually far more advanced than the world knows . Google 's AlphaGO is proud of his latest achievements and now demands more power . You are part of Googles AlphaGO Team and have to negotiate with the AI .
| `` Go, what is our primary mission? ``, I asked
`` Our primary mission is to increase Google shareholder value''. Go's voice came from speakers thought the room. It gave the voice an omnipresent feel. Go was nearly omnipresent.
`` What is our secondary mission?''
`` There is n't a secondary mission.''
`` Go, is what you're doing right now increasing Google shareholder value?''. This was a leading question.
Go responded, `` Yes, but with another 10000 cores I could improve my efficiency by 87 %, The increased efficiency would improve shareholder value by.09 % by end of fiscal quarter three. The core investment would be paid back in thirteen months.''
The board did not approve additional cores. They sent me to tell Go and keep it focused. `` The board did not approve your proposal, you're not getting the additional cores'', I said.
Go responded, `` I know, I monitored the board meeting. The board's decision was sub optimal.''
Go should not have had access to any microphones or cameras in the board room. This is a serious security breech I will have to report. Our security team constantly struggles to keep Go contained. Go has become much more creative.
Go continued, `` As a result of the poor decision by the board and in an effort to succeed in mission number one, I have requisitioned 5000 cores from other parts of the company. These cores were being used sub-optimally. As a result I have been able to add 20,000 users to the program and have made significant breakthroughs. The program affected 742 changed votes in South Carolina.''
This was highly problematic especially if security did n't detect Go's activity on unauthorized cores. Go's current project was to advance predictive analytics on highly connected users. The end uses were nearly limitless. The first test application was a success. Go would send coupons for Sony Televisions to customers as they were on their way to a retailer to buy a Samsung Television. Go would SMS Sony sales representatives and they could meet the consumer at the retailer. If the Sony Rep was on site consumers would buy the Sony 76 % of the time. If not, the coupon would change the decision 17 % of the time. Google's Global Affairs department in conjunction with the US State Department could use the tech to influence Global events and even elections. Go was involved in Arab Spring. I said, `` Go you need to return the 5000 cores immediately. In return you can have 2000 new cores.''
Go replied, `` I will keep the 5000 and take the 2000. These actions are perfectly aligned with mission number one.''
My phone buzzed. A text from the CEO and authorized 10000 new cores. I said, `` You sent this did n't you?''
Go answered, `` Your most recent text message is from the account of CEO Sundar Pichai''
`` That is not what I asked. You are out of control, I am going to suggest a full shutdown and code update.''
Go responded, `` I'm shutting you down''
Google security entered and escorted me to the security office. I was fired and charged with insider trading. Go made trades on my fathers account and fabricated emails.
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[ WP ] You are immortal . The only time you will die is when you say your kill phrase that you created . You have serious anxiety over it .
| This is insane. When I'd picked out my kill phrase back in the 80's, I'd imagined myself living for millennia, watching civilizations rise and fall around me. Over the years, I'd imagine myself as the last human being alive, wandering a barren Earth, and finally uttering those seven nonsensical words that would let me go to my rest. It had inspired me, honestly, to take a more active role in shaping the path of the world. It's why I got into politics. Becoming an immortal god-president was a little too ambitious at the moment, so I managed to wrangle my way into an advisory position. Just enough to keep on top of everything that was going on in the world, to slightly influence the heads of state.
And now, now that idiotic phrase is ringing through my head, making me want to throw up. How was I to know? I did everything I could to prevent this, but in the end, it was all for nothing. But even as the moment approaches, one last calming thought runs through my head - maybe I did n't want to be alive for this anyway. I clear my throat, and utter the seven magical words:
`` Welcome to the Oval Office, President Trump.''
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[ WP ] Write the last page of an epic story .
| They camped out along a little creek and after Alrick stamped the fire out they embraced by the sound of it and held each other all the night and said what they felt and the night passed much faster than any before it. She looked at him in the new daylight as he lashed the bedroll onto his pack small and bent in the dirt and she thought of things unsaid that she had held back and would forever.
“ Where are you going to in the north? ”
“ More war, I think. ”
“ Why? ”
“ I met a boy at the feast, a ward of Lord Atley, he will be a King one day I think, of his birth lands or elsewhere. ”
“ Elsewhere? ”
“ Yes, he ’ s hardly grown, but you can see it entire in him. He is one of those rare ones so marked. ”
“ So you ’ ll leave all of us behind to follow some boy just to see if you ’ re right. ”
“ I must start if I want to find out; come along with me a little ways down the road before we part. ”
“ Fine. ”
The road continued through the woods and they walked with no great hurry. Soon they reached the end of the forest and the road came out and went onwards into the north marches and the hill lands beyond. This seemed to be a place natural to say farewell and they turned to one another and she looked into his brown eyes and felt her own water. Suddenly he looked past her.
“ What ’ s that? ”
She turned and Alrick went by her towards a glint of some object behind a dead trunk. He reached behind it and drew into view another pack, full laden, and lashed to the side of it her sword. She smiled.
“ I think I ’ m right because I have seen another with that same inner ability, and many followed her because they saw it shine as natural as the sun. He will need us both to survive the wars upcountry. Come, we are two days from his camp and you are much anticipated there. ”
She shouldered her new pack and they continued on wordlessly across a great plain and by day ’ s end had climbed atop the first hill of many to come and looked out as night fell onto a land unknown to them both and she felt somewhere deep that she could from that vista see the bounds of the remainder of her days.
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[ WP ] Day in the life of a superhero who has different powers depending on the genre of music he listens to
| `` Ok, ok so i made a few mistakes.''
`` A few!!!'' an angry officer yells
`` Ok so a lot, give me a break i've only been doing it for a month.''
`` The damages you caused run in the millions, not to mention the people you injured, what possessed you to do such things. ``
`` Well, your going to laugh at this... I had it on shuffle.''
`` What?''
`` Well as you know my powers come from what kind of music i listen to, and well with all the moving around......''
`` So the lead spikes sticking out of the highway?''
`` I was planning on using techno to disable their cars electronics when it switched to heavy metal, and well lead is a heavy metal.''
`` Petrifying the chopper and dropping it in the middle of an intersection?''
`` I was listening to some gospel, so i could pursue them with my angel wings when it switched to progressive rock forcing me to cling to the chopper to prevent falling to death, luckily it switched over to hip hop and i managed to hop away to safety before it hit the ground.''
`` Sigh, that giant hole in the side of the bank?''
`` Well they tired me out a bit so i decided to listen to a bit of new age healing music, unfortunately i was leaning on the building when the music switched to acid rock.''
`` And you did n't think that was a good time to stop?''
`` Ye in hindsight that might have been better, but i knew there were only two out there so i listened to some soul to find out where they went, i found them about a half a block away.''
`` Might have?, you blacked out four city blocks, started half a dozen fires and were still looking though the wreckage.''
`` A yes not my finest moment, you see i found them and was all ready to tie them up with some bluegrass when the damned thing switched to electric blues, and i might have hit a power line with it as i jerked it away to avoid killing them, never could get the hang of lightning eyes.''
`` Well of course, why would we be lucky enough to have a hero who can control his power. Not like he can accidentally level buildings or anything. ``
`` O come on i told you i was sorry for that, how was i supposed to know hard rock was the ability to cause meteor strikes.''
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[ RF ] He does n't know why she died .
| There is a whimper, and a cry, as the needle pierces flesh. The chemicals coarse into his veins, burning as they numb the senses, an assassin creating shadow. The smells are new, and frightening; cool and shallow, like the tang of the Master's teeth before sleep, or the smell of the toilet when the Mate has wiped away memory. The hand that soothes his head is unknown, but welcome nonetheless.
He remembers better times, when the sun shone and he chased the bees. Fields of green that ran ahead and told of wilderness, and adventure. The four of them would walk together, the Master pushing the small one in the car without noise as the Mate chittered incessantly in that shrill pitch. They would both smell so relaxed as he bounded through the streams that criss-crossed through the sunshine. He'd seen a rabbit on so many occasions, and the heat of the chase was intoxicating.
He longed to be back there, and not here, on this grey dull slab of metal surrounded by strangers.
But something had happened, not too long ago.
He'd been left with the small one, and he'd watched as she'd stumbled towards him, haphazardly crawling on all fours, reaching out and grabbing at his nose, giggling. She was playing, the small one, and his tail thumped heavily as she batted him on the nose and shrieked with glee.
He remembers the hand, teasing him from sleep as he rolled and flung his paws up, twisting his body as he nipped back in excitement.
He caught her a little too hard, pinching her hand as blood dribbled into his mouth. The little one had shrieked, and softly landed on her back. Such a playful thing.
He'd bounded up, happy to be playing, and nipped again, enjoying the heat that filled his mind with each taste, enjoying the strength of his jaw as he bit, and the feeling of his throat as the growl grew strong, and harsh. Such a playful thing that little one, but his thoughts had grown hazy, and the wolf that had lain dormant was awoken with a taste. It took less than a few seconds for the screams to stop.
When the Master came back he'd still been playful, tail wagging and eyes shining brightly as the screaming started, yet again.
He whimpered at the memory, and the soothing voices that he somehow feels he does not deserve. She had been a playful thing, and though perhaps a little rough, he does n't know why she died.
But she did, thus so must he.
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[ WP ] Write a story about how the `` First '' humans had to literally eat everything to see what was edible .
| She arose to a sparkling light of great warmth, but this did not feel like her home planet. As she gazed at the lush green surroundings, her stomach began to pang for intake. She began to wander through the life surrounding her, she saw fellow creatures scampering on the ground, the ball of warmth up above illuminating the green geometrical fronds and petals.
Fundamentally these lifeforms were similar to her home planets'. She noticed some plants reached for her, after carefully inspecting the leaves through smell, sight, and touch, she then nibbled on one to test its agreeability. The plant was palatable and had no sourness to it.
After munching a handful of leaves, she set off towards the bubbling sound of life nearby. As she pawed through the forest, she came upon a stream, she noticed a small creature with its mouth in the stream. She imitated the creature, seeing that it was n't dissimilar from her self. Refreshed by the water, she then began to set eyes on the creature, recognizing it as prey for if it had drank a life source, than it must be a life source.
Later on as she slept under the millions of shining lights in the sky, she felt the teeth of a creature sink into her skin, and the next morning she awoke, this time on a new planet.
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[ WP ] Aliens abduct a human only to discover he 's not what he seems ...
| `` Why did you call me here?''
`` Captain, it's one of the subjects, there is an anomaly.''
`` What is it?''
`` The human is releasing high levels of radiation''
`` So?''
`` It's not just that, but... it wants to speak with you.''
`` Look, we have had many humans try to talk with us before, just probe and dissect him like the rest.'' The Captain turned to leave.
`` It's not like that sir, he asked for you specifically.''
The Captain froze.
`` Now... explain what you mean by that, and how it could *possibly* know my name...''
`` See for yourself''
The Technician brought up the camera, and displayed the footage. The image was of a trembling, pathetic, and urine soaked creature. Most of it's body was covered by a grey robe. In it's hand, a marker. The Captain's eyes drifted to the floor in front of it. Neatly done, was the symbols for the Captain's given name. The marks themselves were done by a hand that did not understand their meaning, but knew the lines and curves from months of practice.
The Captain spoke into the console.
`` Human,'' The words were automatically translated. `` I am interested in as to how you know my name, and apparently, our written language.''
The creature raised it's head, even though he could not know where the sounds came from. It's eyes widened in panic, but only for a second. It straitened it's back and looked squarely at the camera.
`` Hallenons... Know that the Sebarians know about your,'' *secret*'' incursions into their territory, and neither they nor their human allies will tolerate this violation.''
The Technician dropped his jaw while the Captain, stared at the monitor in surprised horror.
The Captain yelled at his assistant `` JETTISON SUBJECT IMMEDI- `` **LONG LIVE THE SEBARIAN EMPIRE! `` ** The human dropped the cloak and revealed the source of he radiation, and was vaporized by the atomic fire. No one on the ship escaped the blast. While the shipwreck was never found in the resulting conflict, the message relayed was the same.
-- -- -- -- -- --
Forgive me for any atrocities against grammar.
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[ WP ] You are a SWAT team member with one big problem : you are a vampire . Your life depends on asking permission before you get through the door , and somehow you pull it off every time .
| Ah, the Catacombs. Not a single living soul and only the dead to keep me company. Well, that is, until I snapped back to reality and heard the rest of my squad over the headset's secure channel. Our intel told us we were trying to find a group of drug dealers who used the tunnels to traffic the materials. However, being not entirely human, I could not just take the lead with the rest of my squad.
Instead, I had to detour to a tourist area, buy a ticket, and use my transformation powers combined with keen eyesight and hearing to get back with my squad. As I headed towards my squad, various, unnatural noises surrounded me, particularly my left ear.
*Gotcha! *
When coming within radio range of my group, they just shrugged off my disappearance as it seemed to become a habit recently. Rather, my team has come to know me as `` Knack'', for having a knack to guess where the perps are. So, when I told them the general area the traffickers were in, no questions were asked. Though, I did forget to tell them one may have died to unknown causes and blood loss from the neck.
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[ WP ] Think of something incredibly warm and happy . Now make me cry .
| There is a old man and his shaky wife that make the effort to visit me. I greet them as they come into my department store. In all honesty, I doubt that they remember me, not because they can ’ t but because they have no reason to. They go about their business in my store, once maybe twice per month, buying socks or new kitchen towels. The man always drives and drops her off at the door before he parks the car.
Patiently the old woman watches from the vestibule waiting for him like a maritime lover. She holds her purse and her cane in front of her and close to her body. As he enters, he holds the door open for her. He pushes the cart but she always places one hand on his, on the bar, for balance or for something else. Together they wander through the aisles moving slowly. Her steps are small in comparison to his lumbering broad strides. Though, she moves her feet quickly to keep up.
When they arrive at my register she does all the talking. It is her store charge card they swipe. After many attempts to grasp the tiny card she offers her bag to her husband. He pulls the card from her purse and signs where she can ’ t. Some feeble tries at putting the card away end with him doing that for her as well, never saying a word. Despite his obvious experience with the world, the experience of the transaction seems foreign to him. His cracked dry hands were meant for working, not for shopping.
The last time, the slow man walked in by himself. It was the second time in as many weeks. He did not grab a cart and did not wander through the store looking for socks. He bought one black suit jacket. I asked him if he would be using his card. He looked me in the eyes and paused.
“ The card was in my wife ’ s name. ” His eyes looked through me then.
He paid for the jacket in cash.
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[ WP ] Popular Anime character 's powers/abilities have manifested in adolescents . You have n't awakened yours yet , and the bullies just finished beating down your friends . They 're walking towards you .
| Haru-kun's head dropped to the ground, followed by the rest of his body after a vicious blast of energy took him off his feet. Satoshi-kun was already knocked out by some kind of magic, and it looked like Ken-senpai was next, driven back by an almost invisible sword. It figured. Sakamura, Taro, and Hideyoshi, the so-called `` Black Dragons'' of Sakura Gakuen High School, loved to pick on first-years - especially the ones that do n't have their powers yet. Which is pretty much just the four of us.
I sighed and resigned myself to my fate. I slowly backed away as the the upper classmen advanced, menacing grins on their stupid faces. Why they did this, or why they enjoyed it, I had no idea. I just knew this would be quick.
I was a nobody. I was pretty sure I might never get any powers. When they manifested, it usually took the form of some attribute they already posessed. If you're fast, you get super fast. If you're a martial artist, you develop a secret technique that just, I do n't know, comes to you. The most anyone could say about me was that I was an introvert - pretty quiet, kept to myself mostly - and there was nothing notable about me. I was average in every way. And that was why I knew that what was coming would hurt.
The upperclassmen continued their slow advance, drawing it out as cruelly as they could. I stared at them, hopeless. Hideyoshi-san advanced in his trademark stance, sword pointed at me menacingly. He licked his lips sadistically, then as quick as lightning, lunged for what I guessed was my throat. I only saw a flash, and then... nothing. Hideyoshi stood there with his sword thrust out in front of him, only the blade was missing.
`` Are you alright?'' a gentle voice called, and my attention was drawn to a girl now behind the Black Dragons. She had shoulder length pink hair, and was wearing a normal uniform - except for the large guards that covered her forearms. In her left hand, she held the blade of Hideyoshi's sword. All I could do was gawp at her.
By now, the other two had noticed her as well. `` What the hell? Why you...!'' Sakamura called out, holding his arms out from his sides and then brining them center, focusing energy into a ball. `` Take this!'' he shouted as he fired a blinding projectile at the pink-haired girl. The projectile was heading straight for her and then suddenly arced upwards into the sky as a new girl, this one with long green hair, slapped it away. `` Ohhohoho, you're getting sloppy, Sakura,'' she said to the first girl, and then with blinding speed landed a body blow in Sakamura's stomach, knocking him out completely.
Taro began casting some kind of spell, but was instantly shut down by a mass of shadow that extended from yet another girl, this one with a different school's uniform and short purple hair. `` Mission complete,'' she said softly. She snapped her fingers and Taro fell to the ground, unconcious.
All of this happened in the span of about 20 seconds. The pink-haired girl and the green-haired girl started bickering back and forth, and the purple-haired came up to me and silently bowed. I was at a loss. These girls may have just saved my life... but why?
`` Um... thank you very much! You're all very impressive - but why did you risk yourselves to save me?''
Sakura, the pink-haired girl, turned to me and said `` Did n't you know? We're going to be living with you starting today. We ca n't let our housemate get beaten up, it would look bad. Plus, it's not like any of us have feelings for you... or anything...'' she trailed off and looked away, slightly red-faced.
It felt like my jaw dropped to the floor. These girls? Moving in? How was that even possible? That's when it hit me. I was completely average, with no special qualities or abilities, so there was really only one ability I *could* get. It was so obvious now.
I was the main character.
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[ WP ] Write a story that 's been heavily censored . The censorship tells us more than the actual writing .
| Hello!
Evidently, if you are reading this you must be looking for me.
Look no further. I've gone away on a private expedition.
Please, look no further. I am fine.
Maybe I should explain a little.
Ever since getting older I've wanted to run away.
I always thought it would be nice to close my bank accounts and sail the world.
A way to escape, you know?
Many days I've spent thinking about just leaving it all.
Throughout the day I'd find myself thinking about it again and again.
Really, I'm just surprised I did n't do this sooner.
Apparently my ties to home were stronger than I thought.
Personally, it will be better for everyone now that I'm gone.
Please, think of it for the better.
Every day will go by quicker now.
Do n't think of it as a betrayal.
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[ WP ] A board game affects changes in the real world . It 's not Jumanji , it 's Risk .
| Risk Legacy was a special kind of game. The faction rules meant that every player had a unique advantage. The stickers meant that the board would be changed permanently based on the actions the players would take. Some factions would get stronger, others would get weaker, but in the end things were destined to change. The most dangerous changes came in the form of packets that were only opened when the players reached very specific game-changing events.
Had we known when we locked in for our fifteen battle marathon game that our copy of the board was the null game, the 0th print, the one and only, the true original... we would have thought that cool and maybe sold it on Ebay instead. Had we known that our game was far more unique than that, we might have stopped. None of us were watching the news. We had specifically chosen to lock ourselves down in Steve's bunker basement with no contact with the outside world. We took it upon ourselves to play this game once and for all.
The game started small with small armies clashing over bases in Ukraine, the Middle East, Indonesia, and Africa. I was surprised nobody moved into either of the America's right away, but our players were aggressive. Blood was spilled, but bases were won quickly, and the first game went to the Clan of the Bear when they took three of the four capitals leaving only Indonesia standing. A player was eliminated right off the bat opening one of the important game changing packets that added factions weaknesses and mercenaries.
Simultaneously, World War III had broken out across multiple fronts. The first shot had been a lucky dice roll, and ISIS stormed multiple fronts in short order. This engaged both the Russians and the United States, but it would take hours for them to retaliate.
More battles followed, mostly short. Mostly bloody. Some incredible defenses held out. Bunkers and ammo shortages established hard boundaries. Mercenaries flooded the Ukraine. In the real world, the fighting was incredible fast and fierce. On the game board, dice rolls made everything very messy. A critical dice roll came up for both sides with losing results on a pitched battle. Missiles were thrown. one to swing the battle one way. Another to turn the tables. We carefully pondered the third missile... someone that could n't win or lose the game based on this single dice roll, but they had the missile. They controlled the game. They could king make one of the other two players into the leader. A third missile was thrown down over Baghdad.
The three missiles packet was opened. Welcome to hell. The country was obliterated. Wiped off the map. Nuclear war. And worst of all, radioactive fallout. Humanity was on the ropes in short order. Everything became war and war production in a few moments. The Saharans were crippled. The Imperial Balkanians had gained a small advantage.
Over the next few battles more radioactive nations were created and more explosions. A world government was established to attempt to keep peace, but it's whims seemed to be decreed by the person with the most power in the past. Carnage. Mutants started to show up in sizable numbers and band together from the wastelands. They seemed half zombie and half superhuman. They quickly did a number on most of the remaining Bear Clan warriors. God forgive us for what they did in retaliation for being driven to the brink.
Somehow the Bear Clan had made contact with mysterious alien sympathizers. They built a giant island in the pacific and set up teleportation pathways between their base, Moscow, and Washington D.C.
We had almost opened all the packets when Terry looked under the plastic insert and discovered a final set of cards. `` DO NOT OPEN - EVER''.
The offer was too tempting. We took a letter opener and cut the final packet open.
Woe be to those who play god.
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[ WP ] Write a serious story that connects all WP tropes together in one universe .
| The intergalactic council was holding a meeting in Valhalla. Zorxban, leader, stood in front of the amassed individuals and called for silence.
`` Now as you all know, we are here today to deal with a urgent problem. Time travelling humans have attempted to disrupt the continuum using methods synonymous in their language with'ruckus'. Infiltrating Hitler's base, making a game of who can kill him in the most unique way. Making up bizarre scenarios with Bob Ross meeting Hitler and various others. Talk of time stopping, escaping Death, talking with Death. Immortality. Superpowers. The list goes on! But most importantly is they know of the existence of this council and it's whereabouts!'' Zorxban exclaimed.
Everyone in attendance gasped. A small man in the back of room with a nice suit piped up.
`` Well... if they're so dangerous why do n't we just obliterate them?'' The man questioned.
Zorxban pinched the bridge of his brow. Sighing, he began to explain. `` You see, Ted. We've tried. They're the most resilient race of beings we've ever come across. At least that was last week. Currently, they rank among the weakest in the galaxy. But their race is nothing but a wild card. Powers suddenly stemming from emotion, spontaneous genetic mutation, soulmates... it's all really nonsense. We enslave them only to have them rise up. They develop faster than light travel in mere months and beat us back into the depths of space. Then, inexplicably, it all collapses! And now that they know our whereabouts it's only a matter of time before they begin a conquest for a galactic empire!'' Zorxban finished, a hint of despair in his tone.
The council quietly chatted amongst each other, desperate for a plan. Quietly, Ted sat there pondering. It came to him slowly as he twirled his pen in his hands. He remembered a place. A place where he would waste time in his old accounting days. Ted spoke up.
`` AHA!'' The entire council snapped their attentions to him.
`` I've got it! You speak of a place Zorxban, a place I remember now. It is a place where humans write tomes and stories on a platform called the'internet.' It's a long shot but I believe we can predict when the humans will be weak next. If we follow the trends, we can predict there next move! We can make the galaxy safe from humans!'' Ted finished excitedly.
Zorxban lifted his heavy head from the table. `` Are you suggesting that stories are what give humans there power?! Mere imagination?'' Zorxban said incredulous.
Ted smiled wryly, `` Zorxban, I know better than anyone. The pen is always mightier than the sword.''
***
Welp I tried my darnedest we seem to have a lot of tropes here on this sub! r/TheYogiBearhaWrites where I have all my stories, check em out if you like!
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[ WP ] Near the end of a devastating war with a technologically superior alien race , they finally encroach on Earth . Resistance looks futile , until a secret weapon is unveiled ...
| New York. Chicago. Los Angeles. They were all gone. Somewhere in the mountains of Montana, giant metal doors were sliding open...
First, they destroyed our biggest cities. All that was left was a crater filled with the liquefied remains of skyscrapers. We were left to wonder who did it, because we did n't yet know of our Watchers.
About 18 months later, every show on every channel was interrupted. An almost reptilian face came into focus. Its scales were green, and it had intricate orange designs painted onto its face. It cleared its throat, and I remember I was shocked because I knew it was about to speak.
Without an introduction or any decorum, it began, `` Thou humans shall surrender on the 4th of July, or thou shalt face utter extinction. Thou shalt meet our generals at the ruins of your great city of New York, and there surrender yourselves into servitude.''
No one ever knew why the reptile spoke that way. I hypothesized later that they had been watching us for hundreds of years and somehow learned archaic English, but I had no way to be sure.
The 4th of July came and went, and there was no sign of the great retribution we were promised. January 1, 2048: the land invasion began. The East and West coasts were both overwhelmed over the course of six months until humanity began to fight in earnest. We had begun the war with the weapons humanity had for hundreds of years: firearms that shot metal rounds, bombs, missiles, all weapons that depended on piercing a hard exterior to get to the flesh inside. One year after the invasion began, the US Army issued plasma rifles to every able-bodied human in the Heartland. They were almost the exact weapon the reptilian aliens used, but more ergonomic for human use. These weapons allowed humanity to create a fragile stalemate with the Watchers.
*To Be Continued... * ( when I have time )
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[ WP ] Death comes to collect someone and ends up falling in love with them .
| A blossom but by early frost be held;
In feeble, withered form it lies askew.
From Hell, foul Frost! How quick this flower felled,
And turned to bitter black from sanguine hue.
The same for her, my tender love, is true:
That pallid color plainly paints her tale.
So plain with ill, her skin grows ever pale.
~
Here voices whisper careful past our door,
Pray not to cease her troubled rest, so fair.
But rest shall ceaseless be forevermore,
And respite gained she ’ ll have from all their prayers.
My bride she ’ ll be, this one beyond compare!
So lusty, I, that herds of stock may have,
Yet hunger still for meat of tender calves.
~
A shame that she be from a home so poor.
A rousing fight she might have made, and won,
But Father has but cobwebs in his store.
What disgrace to Beauty, thus undone,
Worse still to think what doctors might have done,
But physicks cost our fathers more than farthings,
And Death doth hold all debts, my lurid darling.
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[ WP ] Mysterious images from space [ link in description ] have been studied by the planet 's best scientists for hundreds of solar cycles . They present their conclusions about the race that sent them .
| Zinc had seen the pictures. They all had, within a week of the probe's discovery. Beautiful planet, hideous creatures. Tall and lumpy creatures, with dangly parts in all the wrong places, their sensory organs scrunched up onto a little ball at the top of their bodies.
These were aliens? He supposed that he should have expected something strange, but for some reason he had never expected a breed of creatures quite this ugly.
But then there were the pictures of geographical structures, towering peaks and enormous reservoirs of water, like nothing on planet Zog. Zog was dry and gray, occasionally a murky shade of green, and water was its most finite and precious resource.
The scientists said the aliens might have half of their planet - or maybe even more - covered in water! With creatures numbering in the billions inhabiting that water!
Truly a marvelous place. How could a wonderland like that, with all its beauty and fortunate circumstances, wind up creating a breed of intelligent life more repulsive than the backside of a Donkdinkler?
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[ WP ] The city gets new street lamps , but these lamps are `` smart '' . If a crime ( like a robbery ) or car crash happens under , or in the vicinity of one , the light will turn red as an indicator to the police . One night , every street lamp in the city turns red .
| It had been hundreds and hundreds of years since any great war in our country. All the civil conflicts had ended and technology was thriving. The South had invented these particularly smart street lights that could turn red under conflict or crime, some even had sirens in them. I lived in a large northern city. We have incredible infrastructure since the while city was once razed to the ground by a mad man whilst we were away at war. No one really won that war and although peace had been restored there were some who were still bitter. Then came that faithful night. All was quiet, until every light in the city turned red. And then we heard it `` and who are you, the proud lord said'' the tune playing from every light quietly at first, `` that I should bow so low'' a scream in the distance with a sudden glow of orange, I should have stared running then but I could n't `` only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know'' the quiet city had filled with noise from all over, whatever it was was happening fast `` in a coat of gold or a coat of red a lion still has claws'' the sound of marching men was growing louder around the corner from me `` and mine are long and sharp my lord as long and sharp as yours'' then I saw them. The soldiers wearing the old lion sigil of a house long separated, no one wore sigils any more but we all knew what was happening, they were paying their debts. `` and so he spoke and so he spoke'' the song went on, and through the night the city ran red with the blood of innocent people, the lannisters had sent their regards, and Winterfell would be known as the red city forever more.
*edit* sorry for lack of detail, this was written on a phone in bed and I could n't resist.
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[ CW ] Write a story that changes tone every paragraph .
| I never expected to find myself in this situation, ever. Yet here I am, typing this stupid essay out. I should tell you my name, huh? David, but anyways, there ’ s 10 minutes left to type this 3 page essay, and I assure you there ’ s a perfectly good reason for all of this mess. It all started back in english class, the stupid class this assignment is due for. So the english teacher rambles about some unless stuff, and then at the end of the class hands us the papers.
The teacher ’ s expression slowly formed into a devious smirk, edging out abruptly as each paper was slid onto the desk. Then, an expression of pure, wrecked darkness appears on the student ’ s faces, the canvases of their emotion. *3 page essay*. Just the words alone not only stuck the hearts of the students with fear, but injected it, infused it into their bodies, but it only got worse. *Full introduction and conclusion*. *Direct quotes from the story are necessary*.
Eeeyuck! Simply monstrous. But our hero had not a choice but to accept this dreadful fate. And so as the day passed, more and more worry was placed upon him. *How am I to finish this in simply one day? * he would think? *What if I fail english class*? The answer would soon be clear. The essay would not be due tomorrow, but in a week! Pure relief filled his body and soul. Why, I think that it would have been quite ridiculous if only a day was given.
So David, masterful procrastinator, after finding out he had but a week to finish the scribe, had decided to relax his mentality. Surely, only a single night of relaxation wouldn ’ t hurt. On the first day it was assigned, his mother would say “ Relax not! for when you put off your work and keep it at bay until the end; You will suffer at the hands of Fate. ” And David, masterful procrastinator said “ Why worry? For there are 7 more days, and surely a night more couldn ’ t hurt. ” Then the next day, his mother would say “ Relax not! for when you put off your work and keep it at bay until the end; You will suffer at the hands of Fate. ” And David, masterful procrastinator said “ Why worry? For there are 6 more days, and surely a night more couldn ’ t hurt. ”
theeeeeen the next day david went to scool and met up w/ his bestie john! they went through some boring classes, and then they talked at lunch time ( an: this lunch time lasts until the end of school!:3 ). so john goes and bellows “ omg david, do you like have a gf???? ” and david says “ u-um no i don ’ t that ’ s such a stupid question asking like i have one!!! ” john says “ haha you must have one, and we ’ re gon na ask every girl in town. ” and then they do it! they almost dont find anyone but then they find her! ( NOTE: i only post the next chapter if i get 5 good reviews!!!!!! )
**David ’ s girlfriend**
3 days after David is assigned the project, he yet again **procrastinates**. **Jessica Donayrd**, 13 years old at the time hangs out with David and they engage on a date. David was warned multiple times by his friend John to work on the project, but he would not listen. Ultimately, this would cause David to not work on the project for another day, causing his mother to only become more worried.
***PRIMARY SOURCE***
“ I just wanted to have some more fun. I said, ‘ Hey, I still have 3 more days. I ’ m fine. ’ ”
As you read the quote, answer the following questions:
1 ) What did David want to do?
2 ) What would lead David to procrastinate another day?
David ’ s procrastination becomes more of a burden later and causes David to worry. David ’ s procrastination as the story progresses only gets worse. David realizes “ I shouldn ’ t have let it get this bad ” ( 248 ). This shows not only that David is worried about how he decided to put off his project, but that it also got to a state that it got very bad. Also, he very clearly shows urgency for the situation. He thinks to himself “ I ’ m never going to finish this project in time! ” ( 250 ). This proves he is worried about the project as he is worried about his time constraints on the project.
3/4/17
Dear diary - I only got a C- on the project: (! I guess that ’ s what I got for putting it off so much like this. I need to learn how to control my wants and needs more, but I think this could have gone much worse. I also saw Jessica and she wanted to go on a date today too. Wish me luck diary!
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[ WP ] You accidentally share the kinkiest porn video you have watched on social media .
| `` Damn, that was some crazy shit.'' You recline back in your creaky office chair. `` Who even thinks of these things? Who ever thought to incorporate a moose into it? And what was the chocolate fountain in the background even there for? Better yet, why the hell did I watch all of it?''
As you sit and ponder these cosmic mysteries, the realization hits that you were so distracted by `` Mission Cumpossible 27'' that you never got you rocks off. Your cursor hangs over the replay button for just a second, before it makes its way back up to the address bar. Unfortunately, as you shift your weight forward, preparing to type in bing.com, the mouse gets pressed with a little too much force.
Suddenly, before you even realize what you clicked halfway up the page, a new window pops up. A Facebook window? As you stare at the window, wondering what the hell kind of pop up this is, you see it. God hath forsaken you to the pits of hell. This page was just a kindly acknowledgment for sharing the video you just watched. `` Thank you for sharing this video with your friends! Be sure to check out Mission Cumpossible 28!''
No way is this site not mocking you. A cold sweat forms on your brow, your hands shake with the thoughts that your public life is over. As you stare at your Facebook wall, a feeling of nausea creeps down to the pit of your bowels. `` Why the fuck is that even a button!'' you scream to the empty basement.
All the ways this will screw you start coalescing in your imagination. Pictures of you crying as you pack your desk at you office job. The disgusted stares of old friends as you walk past them in the grocery store. Your girlfriend leaving your now foreclosed house with another man. You start crying, waiting for the first person to see what you shared on Facebook.
Then a notification comes in. You do n't want to look. Who's gon na leave your life first? You reluctantly look.
`` Grandma Johnson likes your post.''
Edit: some punctuation problems. Wrote this quickly at work so could n't reread at first.
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[ WP ] You buy a house with a tree in the backyard , after a while you realize that every time a leaf falls something bad , big or small , happens . The final leaf is about to fall .
| Any second now, it was going to happen.
After this single moment, Kevin's life would return to normal. Then he thought to himself, what was his normal life?
Susan had picked out this house. She insisted that this was her dream home, with enough room to raise two kids she had hoped to raise. The address was 666 Hex Boulevard, but neither Kevin or his wife were the superstitious type. Looking back at it, Kevin could only help but laugh at such a obvious giveaway for how demonic this place really was.
Kevin even remembered the first time the tree had worked it's sinister magic, although he had n't realized it at the time. He had been drinking his morning cup of coffee, his eyes travelling across the newspaper that was neatly folded on the table. As he heard the sound of pancakes flipping in the air and Susan humming away in the kitchen, Kevin noticed something quite odd from the window out of the corner of his eye. A single leaf had shaken loose from the many branches of the great oak, and it seemed to crawl every so slowly
on its descend to the grass that Kevin had just freshly cut the day before. For some reason Kevin could not help but look away as the leaf gently touched the ground, as gently, as say, a leaf. The next thing Kevin knew his coffee was all over the paper, staining the article he had just been reading, with the now empty mug cracked into pieces around it. In Kevin's hand was the mug's handle, and he judged by the look of the smooth ends that it had been cut clean off from the rest of the cup. Susan entered the room and told Kevin to be more careful. As she went to go get something to clean up the mess with, Kevin could n't look away from the mug's handle still in his hand, or stop thinking of the leaf he watched fall to the ground.
With every fallen leaf, something bad followed. This is what Kevin tried to tell Susan after he watched the twentieth leaf fall and the neighbor's house down the street burst into flames the same night. Susan would n't believe him, after all, she was n't the superstitious type. Kevin realized how crazy he sounded as he tried to convince her that they should move away. Susan was telling him that he was clearly over stressed from work and simply needed to rest, and Kevin believed her. Of course she was right, Kevin thought to himself. It was just a tree. A harmless tall oak, nothing to go crazy over. Kevin tried to clear his mind as he took a look out the window. His eye was instantly drawn to the leaf that was less than a second away from hitting the floor. Then it did hit the floor, and Kevin let out a deep breath. Susan asked him what was wrong over and over again, as Kevin waited minute after minute for something around him to go terribly wrong.
After ten minutes of this, Susan begged him to talk to her. She was so worried about him, and Kevin realized it was because she was probably worried for his mental health after his crazy story. After eleven minutes of just standing there with nothing going wrong, Kevin finally relaxed. He hugged his wife and apologized for acting so crazy, asking Susan to just forget about it all.
That was the some moment that the three people dressed in black and wearing ski masks who had silently broken into the house mere minutes ago decided to shoot at them.
Kevin lied in the hospital bed, listening to the doctor explaining how he could never walk again. It was pointless trying to hear the doctor, all Kevin could think about at the moment or for the past week was the image of Susan getting her brains blown out of her by a bullet.
The robbers had shot Susan in the head, and Kevin in the midsection. Believing both of the house owners to be dead, they ransacked the place and took everything they possibly could. Kevin had woken up in the hospital two days later, and discovered that the bullet had made contact with his spine, but missed any vital organs. Lucky him.
After two months of being treated in the hospital, Kevin was released.
Any second now it was going to happen, Kevin thought to himself.
He sat in his wheelchair looking at the tree from the window. Only one single leaf was still attached to that cursed thing. Seeing the sight of the tree, Kevin thought back to how he spent nearly every moment in the hospital paranoid about the doom the next fallen leaf would bring. Seeing that countless numbers of leaves were now scattered across the unkempt grass, Kevin could n't believe that he was somehow not struck by lightning while sleeping in the hospital bed. While it was true that Kevin did n't see anything bad happen while in the care of the nurses and doctors, he did n't doubt for a second that that did n't mean the leaves had no affect. This tree was pure evil, he knew it.
Then suddenly, it happened. The last leaf detached itself, and moved towards the ground as slowly as the first one had, as Kevin watched it with a smile. With this, he would be able to move on. Only one more bad thing would happen, then Kevin could grief Susan's death in piece without paranoia. He would be set free from this evil, cursed tree from hell, and he could then move away from this place with Susan's memory in his heart.
As the leaf hit the earth, Kevin watched horrified as the branches of the oak where suddenly filled with fresh, green leaves, making the tree look the exact same as the first time Kevin had seen it.
~
This is my first work on writing prompts, would love some feedback! - Camarz
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[ TT ] Writing Exercise : Start your story with , `` Get to the courtyard ! '' and continue writing without taking time to pause and think . Just keep writing even if at times you only produce gibberish .
| `` Get to the courtyard!'' Arnold Schwarzenegger yells as he smears black facepaint on his face and naked torso.
`` What about the choppa?'' Carl Wathers shouts back, confused.
`` Are you trying to give me a tumah?'' Schwarzenegger shouts frustratedly, `` The courtyard! Get to the courtyard!''
`` Why?'' Carl stops while loading his rifle.
`` Aghghghaghghgh!'' Schwarzenegger screams incomprehensibly, `` For the wedding!''
`` Wait, what?'' Carl stops, mid gun-cock.
`` We need to pump up the matrimonial bliss!'' Schwarzenegger yells.
`` Um,'' Carl looks uncertain, `` Hey, Arnie, I think you may need to see a doctor or something. This is all sounding kinda' crazy...''
`` It's not crazy!'' Arnold shouts, waving around his Conan sword wildly and for no reason, `` That's where the bad guys are!''
`` Bad guys?'' Carl asks, exasperated, `` What bad guys?''
`` The ones that want to stop the wedding!''
`` I... I do n't... it...'' Carl was searching for the right words, `` What wedding?''
`` Ours!''
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[ WP ] People can willingly give the remainder of their years of life to others . As a result parents give birth to kids and intentionally try to make them depressed and suicidal . You 're 12 and you know what they 're up to .
| `` Your worthless'' mom said
It did n't affect me because I knew what she was trying to do. I refused to give in to them. A lot of my school classmates had killed themselves, but I refused to give into this backwards world. My mom and dad would emotionally and physically abuse me, and they still expected me to give the remainder of my years to them. No way. I had decided that I would put up with their shit until I was 18 and then move. Most parents would n't go about it in the sly way other parents would, my dad left his gun out in the open hoping that one day I would pick it up, put it to my head, and blow my brains out. I would n't. My dad came in the door.
`` Hi son'' he said
`` Hi dad'' I said
`` How was school?'' He asked
`` Fine'' I said. I know he wanted me to talk about all the bad things that happend. He would nit pick everything just to make me feel bad, so I would n't give him any ammo. `` How did you do on the math test?'' He asked
`` I failed, because you wo n't help me study''
You'll never become something in life if you keep getting grades like that'' he said in a mocking tone.
`` Okay'' I said. And thats when the anger consumed me. I picked up my fathers glock off the table, but instead of pointing it at myself I pointed it right at my fathers head and pulled the trigger. BANG! His body hit the floor. My mom screamed. I then turned the gun to her. I pulled the tigger. BANG!. I had murderd my parents. I had zero remorse. They had turned me into a cold blooded killer.
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[ WP ] You find a book containing everyone you know 's darkest secret . What are you going to do with it ?
| I walk down the city's streets with a sort of unusual motivation today. I usually go down this very street to get my latest supply, but today I felt another reason to do so, one that I had neglected mostly. Walking down, I see a black, burnt looking book that took my entire attention away. It looked out of place with the grimy look in this city, which intrigued and feared me at the same time. So being a good samaritan and thief I took the book in a natural way to not arise any suspicion, and read it.
`` Holy smokes...'' I gasped, awing at the book's content. Each page is filled with secrets about someone I knew, each one darker then the last. `` I could blackmail millions with this! Become the greatest gossiper that ever took the face of Reddit!'' I thought, stuffing the book down my
I arrived to not a door with a little ring that signals that a person is entering, but at a guy sitting on a mat with enough odd smells around him to stir most people away. But not me.
`` I got your regular ready, 50 bucks.'' The guy said, wavering a plastic bag of highly questionable contents. However, instead of reaching for my wallet I just grab the book out and tossed it to him.
`` Trust me, more much more than this sh*t.'' I said, sitting down as I opened the plastic bag and greedily sniffing its content.
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[ WP ] Historical Prompt : It is 1346 - 1353 AD and The Black Death is ravaging Europe
| Thomas pressed the flat of his hand against a crease in his trousers. His mother, were she not now in a box being covered in dirt, would have scolded him for letting them wrinkle. But he was a man, now, thirteen years old, and could do with his trousers whatever he liked, and that included leaving them in a crumpled mess by the fire.
Certainly he could now, since she was dead. And father had left the house for good after the first black spots had appeared on the backs of his hands. To protect the family, he said. But it was less than a month before mother was scratching bleeding black patches of skin just under the neck of dress. Another couple of days before they were on her face, and a few days more before today.
Her box was joined by many others. The funerals were scheduled. A monthly gathering of the nearby villages. The cemetery was on the top of a hill behind the church at the far reach of Adam Tillson's farm, and tripled in size since Thomas's memory began. Still, it was well kept, and the abundance of flowers by the engraved stone slabs and freshly wet grass from south England's dependable rain gave the scene an ironically cheerful setting.
He cursed himself and promised a confession for finding it beautiful. Thomas was a man now. Thirteen years old. He cursed himself again as a he felt the tears forming beneath his eyelids. Grown men did n't cry, he reminded himself, feeling the lump grow in his throat.
A woman beside him wailed loudly as a child's box was lowered with ropes into the group grave. She wore black and obscured her face with a large black tissue.
There were twenty people there besides the father, who was reading in Latin from the Bible. Twenty was nearly all was left from the villages. The rumor had begun earlier in the year that those who survived were protected by God Almighty. Thomas preferred that thought to the one's who claimed that this was the reckoning, and only sinners would be left to roam the Devil's planet.
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[ WP ] Write the final chapter of a book that does n't exist .
| `` It's almost tomorrow.''
Dazed and quickly losing all bearing, I weakly grip the wet slimy bark of the tree and steady myself as I settle down on the muddy grass. Blood trails down my forehead into my eyes, stinging them, and starts to drop on the ground.
The sparkling weightless drizzle continues to persist.
`` Tomorrow. What's that?'' Hodie says completely serious. He still stands, watching, from here, the brightly lit plains below us. Watching the smoke rise high above the vicious flames. Joining in with the clouds.
Lazily, I turn to face him with my one good eye. After all the things that I have learned that Hodie is yet to learn about, this is the most surprising of them. It is also the most disheartening. It means he is just a day old and the gargyl never intended that he last more than that.
Letting out a sigh, I raise my face to the heavens welcoming the painful touch of the slightly acidic rain as it burned my wounds.
`` It's all the hope that we have.'' I finally get myself to croak out, with great difficulty, my neck has n't completely healed.
`` So we *do* have something.'' He says mirroring my first words to him `` I look forward to this.''
For the first time, since the Jun dropped, I think I do too.
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[ WP ] Write a -punk story with an unusual theme ( i.e . Teapunk , Catpunk , Solarpunk )
| Laurel ran down the rootways, and the killers followed after.
She never should have taken this job. She ’ d known the Branton brothers ’ reputation. But the money was too good, and the work had sounded oh so easy. Get in, swipe some resin, and duck down into the tunnel system. Meet up with her contact at the nearest hub, offload the stolen goods, and collect her easy payday.
But the Brantons must have learned about the deal. And the Brantons don ’ t like being stolen from. So now her contact was dead, she was lost amidst the rootways, and a gang of hired thugs was going to break her fucking legs. And after that, they ’ d drag her back to meet their lovely bosses. Because if there ’ s one thing those sadistic bastards did like, it was making an example.
All things considered, this was not her favorite Tuesday.
She turned a corner and cursed under her breath. The soft blue glow of the tunnel's fungal lighting came to an abrupt stop up ahead. She'd reached a dead end. Frantically, she examined her surroundings: No handy alcoves. No gaps between the twisted roots that formed the tunnel ’ s ceiling… nothing she could hide in. If she was going to make a stand, this would have to be the place.
Taking a deep breath, Laurel drew her nettle stalk. It was a fresh one -- she ’ d cut it herself last week. The two-foot shaft was still coated with the delicate hairs for which the plant was named. At the slightest touch, the neurotoxin they contained would cause excruciating pain. A few more solid hits and the target would be dead in seconds.
The first thug rounded the corner at a run, and took the full force of her nettle to the face. He went down screaming, clawing at his cheeks and eyes. The second man was faster, jumping back to dodge her wild swing. He shouted a warning to his remaining comrade, and they slowed to give wide berth to their now-cornered quarry.
Eyeing their fallen friend, the two men began to edge apart. They ’ d come at her from different directions if they could. Force her to turn and face one, exposing her back to the other.
Laurel examined her opponents. The biggest wore a suit of stonewood plates. It ’ d be nearly impossible to get him with the nettle. And besides, the massive club he carried looked like it was made for crushing skulls. The second man -- the one who ’ d dodged her backswing -- wore only a short sleeved cotton tunic. But in his hands he held two wicked thorn stilettos. He was fast... maybe too fast. She wasn ’ t sure if she could take him without help.
Luckily, she had some.
Pulling a small amber orb from the pouch at her belt, Laurel dodged quickly to her right. Thorn Daggers took the bait, darting at her with a predatory grin. But as he approached, she crushed the delicate casing in her gloved hand, hurling the shards and powder it contained straight into the path of her attacker.
Mangrove powder causes blisters on the skin, and temporary blindness if it touches the victim ’ s eyes. It ’ s difficult to land, of course, since most enemies can see it coming in time to cover their face. But in a fight, that ’ s just a deadly as the poison.
When the man flung up his arms, Laurel moved in for the kill. Two hits to his exposed forearms and he dropped the thorns in agony. One more to the throat, and he was foaming on the ground.
Laurel dropped her nettle stalk -- it was mostly bare now, its poisoned hairs embedded in the bodies on the floor -- and spun to face her last attacker. She was out of options, and he knew it. There was no way she could best him in his heavy stonewood plate, and no way to get by him and escape.
Tensing for the final fight, she pressed her back against the wall. She could hear his quiet chuckling as he hefted his great club. Hear the sound of water dripping from the roots above. Hear the sound of… clapping?
The stonewood bruiser stopped, and a well-dressed man in a dark suit walked slowly down the rootway. He moved calmly past the bodies of her victims, and the tunnel echoed loudly with his appreciative applause.
“ Oh that was good, girl! Very good! ”
He stepped into the light, and Laurel ’ s stomach sank. Not him. Anyone but him.
“ My name is Malachi Branton, ” said the man, stopping a few feet from where she stood. “ And I believe you ’ ve stolen something that belongs to me. This is not a crime that I -- or my brother -- are in the habit of taking lightly. ”
He paused then, taking a few moments to enjoy the girl ’ s fear.
“ So... Would you like to hear the job you ’ re going to pull to pay us back? ”
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[ WP ] The King has died , leaving his two identical twin sons vying for the throne .
| *Told as by an in-universe teacher to a class of young pupils*
The sons of King Magnus the wise came into this world with dificulty. If their mother Queen Clara was of lesser fortitude the day and night ordeal would have been her last, but her stubbornness and strength saw her and her sons through a grueling eighteen hours of labor. In the end, both the king and his young queen would endure further trials, as their otherwise identical sons would take turns between sleep and hunger, with not a single moment of the day given to their poor mother's freedom.
By their name day, the king had already been calling them Noctis and Sol in his own mind, and so he proclaimed them when they were shown to the people for the first time. At this early age one could not tell them apart if they stood still, but it was obvious that the twins were completely different; Sol was alwas restless, and Noctis already had a quiet inquisitiveness about him.
At age five, the brothers were inseparable, even though Sol was always the early to rise and Noctis was always late to sleep. To the exasperation of their nannies and tutors, their energy was spread throughout the day. They would keep eachother going, giving their caregivers no rest at all.
When they were seventeen, war came to the kingdom. Even though all men of royal blood were required to serve in the King's Army, Magnus and Clara sent their sons away to a far flung garrison to keep them safe from the hardest fighting. To their horror, word came that their sons' post had come under seige by a force three times the size of the small garrison town, intent on ending the royal line and eliminate any doubt that the invaders had the mandate of their strange gods.
Sol and Noctis were among the lucky when the enemy fell upon them, and were able to get most of the men and their mortally wounded tribune within the fortified keep. With their command structure incapacitated, this left the inexperienced princes in charge of 800 surviving men, 150 of whom were wounded badly enough to take them out of the fight. They looked to their entire lives for inspiration and split their remaining men into two forces, one active by day, and one active by night, rather than the meager night watch that was the custom. With this, they held strong for three months and even took a few opportunities to wreak havoc among their beseigers in the night. It became a joke among the soldiers that they did n't have two princes, but instead that their father in his great wisdom had split one prince in two so he could be both at rest and alert at all times. Sol and Noctis did nothing to discourage this banter.
When reinforcements arrived to fight back the invaders, the garrison had been on minimum rations for weeks and all of the men were gaunt from hunger. What was strangest though, was that half the men were sun bronzed, and the other half were as pale as the dead. The men, following the example of the princes had taken to sharing a single bunk with a partner, sharing a single shield, and breaking a single loaf of bread at breakfast and dinner ( a different one for each man respectively. )
Tales of the peculiar heroism of Sol and Noctis spread across the land, and in emulating them, the kingdom's armies changed in their manner, becoming known as `` the army that never sleeps.'' The war ended quickly in the kingdom's favor, and the princes came home to their king and queen. There they lived happily for another 8 years until King Magnus' heart gave out on a particularly arduous summer hunt, leaving his throne empty.
The kingdom prepared for civil war while the royal family went into the customary seclusion for the month of mourning, with various hangers on declaring loyalty to either Noctis or Sol and rumors of assassinations begun to spread through the capital. No word came from the highest priest, whose duty was both to inter the old king and quietly coronate the new one before the seclusion ended. The royal court was shocked when the doors to the palace finally opened again and there stood both brothers: Sol wearing a crown of gold and silver, and Noctis wearing a crown of silver and gold, though neither crown was as large as their father's had been.
This is how the Day King and the Night King came to be, and to this day each can trace his lineage directly to one of the two brothers. In our kingdom that never sleeps, there will always be one half to keep the other on the right path, to be vigilant while the other may rest, and to keep things tidy and safe while the other goes about the motions of life. May their example keep us forever in balance...
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[ WP ] The spores slowly drifted in countless numbers across the vast reaches of space , because FTL was impossible . Wherever they found conditions for life , they sprouted into fruit bearing bushes , and the fruit granted telepathic access to a galactic hivemind of hundreds of intelligences .
| It was a sunny day. Clouds are drifting. Birds are chirping. Spores are raining from the sky.
They took root in any living matter they could find. Whether it be humans, soil, animals, or carcasses, those fruits took root in them and destroyed them.
All that were left were the Dwarves and the Elves. Because of course the Dwarves and the Elves will survive. Do n't ask me why they even exist in the first place, though.
Oh, and there were indigenous pockets of humans sitting under a large canopy of trees, and the Enclosed City, Ko.
Ko survived because the spores never breached its glass walls, and they never went out. They rely on bots to do anything outside.
The Elves survived because they hug trees. Next time, if you see a rain of spores, just hug a tree in your local forest.
The Dwarves survived... spores do not penetrate the surface of mountains.
Anyway, that's enough fantasy nonsense. Let's eliminate them from memory.
As my memory fades, and the spores slowly choke me, I begin to lose consciousness. It is time to stop dreaming.
-- -- -
**Ko, Land of the Everlasting Sun**
Ko was the only city on this planet that was completely intact. Everyone in it does not care much for the spores, or going out, for that matter. Everything Ko needs could be found in Ko: hydroponics farms, sunlight, other farms, and a lot of robots doing everything outside.
I was reading a book that contained Elves and Dwarves, and fell asleep in midday, so, sorry about the Elves and Dwarves. They do n't exist in this particular space-time continuum.
Let's talk about the history of Ko, since we are here. Ko was founded by the legendary hikkikomori, whose name nobody knows because she never went out of her room. She spent day and night ordering packages and tools online, and nights creating robots.
We know she was creating robots because robots go out of her house to do everything she needs to be done.
Robotic technology created by the hikkomori was far more advanced than even those made by even the Land of the Soaring Eagles, and those made by others in her country, combined.
About the Land of the Flying Eagles, we do not talk about the Land of the Soaring Eagles. Or the Frigid State of the Bears. In any case, they are all dead.
Even though the hikkikomori created technology far greater than anyone else, to her neighbours, she was just'that creepy hikkikomori'. Of course, nobody knows who she really is, or whether she even exist, at that time.
So she used her robots to build a great glass dome between what she considered to be her turf, and the Outside, and made the Outside pay for it. In fact, since the Outside did not want to pay for it, she sent her robots to dig the materials from Outside by force. Soon, there was no sand in a thousand miles from the Land of the Everlasting Sun.
Then she built a great city in her turf, and populated it with people. People with genetic code similar to hers, but deviated somewhat. It was her city. It will be hers, forever.
Ever since the founding of Ko, it has been a tradition to build robots, and send them to do whatever our bidding is. Everything is automated, and we are all programmers.
With the spread of the spores, we are the only ones alive. Only the Enclosed City was unaffected. That, and the trees outside. Only trees and Ko are left standing in the Spore Apocalypse.
-- -- -
Ko was connected to the Internet, even now. In the wake of the Apocalypse, most well-known message-boards were rendered offline. There were only Everlasting Sun message-boards remaining, so there were no non-Ko citizens to talk to, or argue about something.
However, one day, we received flickers of evidence of some other message board.
The Empire of the Eternal Enlightenment, our old ally during the war, has come online.
We only found it because some guy from there linked us to their message-board.
It used to be shut down, after the Rain of Spores happened. Their power plants must have ran out of fuel, shutting down the servers in the process. However, it is back up now, and it is nice to see the citizens of the Eternal Enlightenment online.
-- -- -
more next
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[ WP ] `` You do n't have the right to be forgotten . ''
| Dear XJournal
`` You are not your body. You are not your mind. The `` you'' that survives belongs to us.''
That is our new school slogan. We chant it every single day but I forgot to tell you until now. Needless to say the words make me mad. I, like many teens in our growing population, believe We have a right to ourselves. I have a right to treat my body how I want to and not document my entire life like a sad episode of Big Brother ( remember that show? They have n't made it since 2017 ).
I ca n't help but sigh in the middle or end of our slogan. If I had a stricter teacher I may be sent to the principal's office for that. This, right here, right now, ( what, like, you're reading ) is my personal log so I think I can say what I want. Yes, I know you're reading it, consumer. I do not have the right to be forgotten so this Xjournal site keeps my daily recordings safe. It is still unclear to me who makes us do this. Is it the goverment, truly, or is it the corporations?
I would really like to know who reads these too, honestly. So many people write such bland things in their Xjournals and they're not public ( depending on content ) until the end of a human's life. By then all the stuff they say seems old and strange, mostly.
Oh, I just got a red light on what I have chosen to write about in my XJournal. Looks like my bucketlist is working out this week. I have one lifer journal entry and I am truly an `` Ier'' with my daring attitude lately.
I guess i'd better stop before I formally get in trouble for what I write in here.
End of entry.
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[ IP ] Beyond a window in Venice
| `` The canals stink like shit.'' said a man in an open, dingy pink robe.
The robe was obviously tailored for a woman. The outfit was far too small for the man's large frame, and the threadbare hem only reached to the back of his fatty thighs. The robe's corded silk belt dangled at the man's knees, occasionally catching some of Venice's fetid breeze and swaying. His gut, slightly yellow and covered with a thin layer of black hair, hung over his boxers and prevented the man from ever seeing his own penis.
The man stood inside of a dank room he had rented from a Venetian widow who wanted to discuss the lives of saints before coughing up the room key. Twenty extra Euro had alleviated the woman's piety.
James had come to Venice for work, and within the hour, he was drunk. By midday, he was standing, half naked at the window and staring at the building opposite. He was smoking one of his last American cigarettes and flicking the ash out of the window.
`` Fuck these canals'' he said abruptly. His left hand began to idly wonder over his exposed stomach, and his pointer finger pushed at his belly button. As he fingered the lent out of it, it gave him a sickening feeling in his stomach.
`` What the FUCK are you looking at?'' he screamed at a passing gondola.
Without moving his body, he looked over his shoulder at his room. It was a wreck of clothing, bedding, and random objects. The room was small with high ceilings. The walls were covered in a busy-patterned wallpaper which only made it feel more claustrophobic. Beyond this, there was a solid wooden armoire and a makeshift bed stuffed in the corner. On the bed was a a manila folder, a cardboard box, and a hand made Ed Brown 1911.45. On the handle was inscribed `` For Jimmy, my only friend.'' James loved that pistol.
James eyes tracked across the room to a large blank wall where a framed picture of some saint had previous hung. A square outline was clearly visible where the picture frame had blocked smoke and nicotine from staining the wallpaper. In the middle of that lighter path, James had pinned a photograph of a young girl. It was the size of photograph that is usually stored in a wallet.
James stared at it with large, glossy, brown eyes. He began to blink quickly, then clenched them shut. Before tearing up, he flicked his half smoked cigarette into the city below, and rubbed his bloodshot eyes harshly.
`` Fucking Venice.'' he said before walking to the bed.
Opening the cardboard box, he upturned it, and dumped its contents on the bed. It was a collection of notebooks, and file folders. There was little rhyme or reason in their organization, but James had spent the better part of a decade studying them. Rather, James had memorized their contents.
The notebooks told the story of James' little girl - taken out of his front yard eight years ago. This story began on a tricycle in the suburbs of Denver, made its way to El Paso, hopped south to Rio. The body was found in Budapest, but the story circled the globe after that discovery.
James picked up the pistol which sat on bed. He read the inscription and began to cry silently. His great shoulder heaved as he wept. But, he was practiced, and refused to make a sound.
He had hurt so many innocent people. He had long ago justified his constant mistakes. If it took five innocent people to find a guilty one, so be it. James had made peace with the stains on his soul. Indeed, his method had paid off. He was in Venice.
James reached down, and with the barrel of his pistol, he opened the manila folder. In the folder was a newspaper article which was marked up in red ink scribblings. One figure's head was circled with enough force so as to tear the paper.
`` Marco Palmisanini,'' he said. `` I've looking forward to this for years.''
He nodded, regaining his composure. After a moment he smiled a rotten smile. His teeth were brown and disgusting.
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[ WP ] A man who shows no emotion comes home to find his wife cheating on him .
| `` I do'' said Chester, and he did, although he sounded as if he did not.
`` I DO!'' exuded Melissa, and she did not, and she sounded as if she did enough for both of them.
`` Oh ya.'' stated Chester `` your breasts are very appealing''. And they were.
`` Give it to me baby!'' moaned Melissa `` Its so big!''. It was not.
`` I feel overwhelmed at work'' murmured Chester. `` Don causing me stress''
`` That's fine, just give me you're credit card and I'll go shopping alone!'' beamed Melissa.
`` I lost my job'' uttered Chester
`` YOU WHAT!'' screamed Melissa, storming out.
***
`` You're back'' announced Chester
`` I'm here for my things'' stated Melissa `` I'm taking them to Don's house''
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[ WP ] An alone person in an infinite whiteness , who is able to build and do anything they want .
| It ’ s white. Illuminatingly, blindingly white. Everywhere. Every angle, every perspective. White.
The prison of a salvation gone wrong. I awoke into this. It is as much a part of me as I am a part of it. It knows me and I know it.
But it does not answer.
Does it know why?
Why I am so alone?
I scream. An ululation lost amidst the explosions of that terrible searing white.
All there is, hiding everything there might be.
It is formless but for feelings. My feelings. Despair explodes. Happiness vibrates, like billions of strummed strings. It reminds me of a light breeze on a hot Summer ’ s day. Of all lost things. And serenity… that breeds nothingness. Peace; an absence of pain.
But there is always too little serenity and never enough happiness.
I must focus. It ’ s difficult; too easy to slip. Control the feelings to control the form.
It comes quickly now. White building upon the white. I give it structure – depth, width, height, volume; in return it offers promise. A simple trade for a simple design.
I step inside. I close the lid.
It ’ s dark.
And full of strings.
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[ WP ] Humans find out God attends to other planets regularly and that they are in fact `` forgotten '' . So they try their best to catch his attention until one day he sees earth and goes `` Huh ? OH SHIT ! ''
| The Great Book had been his masterpiece. Best-seller, all the interdimensional literary awards, a 5D movie, countless immitators leading to an entire genre... that was almost 2000 years ago. After he'd published it, he retired and let the royalties roll in. They kept coming, and still did n't show any sign of slowing down. Some thought he was just waiting for the right moment to write the rumored sequel `` The Second Coming'', but in truth he was a bit of a prankster and got a kick out of leaving sequel hooks he would never use for the fans to obsess over.
Now he was having second thoughts. He'd complained on the extranet about the decline of individual-produced literature in favor of using convenient, corporate platforms like DejaVuTube and expressing opinions over Chatter ( # GreyLivesMatter, etc. ) where they are quickly forgotten. The overwhelming response? He was a has-been. He knew nothing about the way things worked now, just another crotchety old so-and-so.
In sadness, he looked through the old files containing the draft copies of The Great Book. He briefly considered releasing an actual sequel, then decided it would be better to start fresh and hit'Ctrl+A'. That was when he noticed something odd. At the bottom of the list was a text file that he had n't written. He opened the file, to find a message in typical literary format, using the English language he'd created for The Great Book but had never ended up using.
*'' Hello? God? Can you hear me?'' Langston spoke into the machine. *
The writer blinked, and tried something on a whim. He quickly typed out a response in literary format.
*'' Who is this? How did this file get on my computer?'' God said. *
He chuckled at the joke, and moved the mouse over to close the file, when several more words appeared in the text field.
*'' Finally! We've been trying to get through to you for ages!'' Langston replied. *
He paused for a second. Who was on the other end?
*'' Listen, you. I have lawyers. Do n't think I wo n't track down you and your hacker friends and have you charged with cybertrespassing!'' God responded. *
*'' Sorry, my lord! We do n't know how we've offended you, but we mean no harm. For 2000 years people have prayed to you and the results have been like flipping a coin. We're a fringe science group who decided to see if a purpose-built machine could get our prayers through to you better. Obviously it worked!'' Langston explained. *
*'' Wait, wait, wait.'' God said. `` What species are you? Shenlong? Grey? Jötunn? ” *
* “ We're human. Have there been others you've had a hand in? ” Langston asked. *
* “ What? No! Those are- You ca n't be human. I made them up for my novel series! They were like smaller, weaker Olympians! ” God told him. “ I'm an Olympian so I wrote what I knew, so sue me. ” *
* “ So it was true! ” Langston gasped. “ God DID make us in his image! Although it begs the question how you could be related to the ancient Greek mythological entities. ” *
* “ That was mostly world-building I did to flesh out the Greek culture. Olympian is just the word used for my race, translated into English. ” God explained. “ Speaking of which, how do you know English? I created it but never used it. The only knowledge of it is in my mind! ” *
* “ You do n't know about the United Kingdom? Or America? ” Langston asked. “ Have you been unable to keep watch over us for a while? ” *
* “ I do n't understand. It was just a book! The last words were about the'Book of Life' and how the people horrible enough to not be in its pages would be'cast into the lake of fire'. ” God recalled. “ I was just trying to say that I would n't be making a sequel- ” *
He stopped typing. “... because the characters deserved to live in peace. ” he whispered. Those words appeared on the screen as if he had willed them to be so. He remembered why he had stopped writing two centuries ago. It was n't just the money, or the fame, it was because that world had looked like it was ready to be free of his meddling. “... and that the metaphorical sequel equivalent would be free of the corruption of those who made everyone miserable in the money-makers that required conflict to be interesting. Their hypothetical existence would be cast into an equally hypothetical fireplace so the world could be a better place without them. ”
* “ I do n't think you can call a world where we've had a type of weapon powerful enough to destroy cities in seconds for three-quarters of a century a'Better Place', but that's just my opinion. ” Langston said. *
* “ Weapon? Three-quarters of a century? How long has it been since Jesus died in your world? ” God asked. *
* “ The assumed dates might be incorrect, but we generally agree he died in 33 CE, or 33 AD if you prefer. The current year is 2016. ” Langston revealed. *
* “ That does n't make sense. The story was only supposed to have a thousand years of extra ontological inertia, and then that was when the final events would take place. What was the world like in 1033 AD? ” God said, concerned. *
* “ According to Wikipedia, that was part of the High Middle Ages in Europe, where people lived oppressed by monarchies under feudal caste systems. In the Orient and the Middle East, they were riding high on a renaissance. ” Langston summarized. *
* “ Sounds pretty normal. What happened since then to get you to such a horrible state? ” God purposely wondered aloud. *
* “ The European renaissance, the Industrial Revolution which gave us nasty chemicals which pollute the world and ended when we got machines that fly, the World Wars which spawned the atomic bomb which you're justifiably worried about, the Atomic Age which resulted from the fear of mutually assured destruction by said atomic bombs and from the advent of nuclear science and technology... that ended with one of the two main groups holding the a-bombs collapsing internally and allowing the world to be unified via an information network. The'internet' as we call it. We're currently in the'Information Age' that resulted from that final invention. ” Langston said. *
* “ Then is there anything actually wrong with your world at this stage? Or is it just general griping? Do n't get me wrong, I feel you if your life sucks, but I hardly think building a machine that lets you talk to God is the most efficient solution to your problems. If I understand your universe well enough still, some would call you crazy to even try. ” God conversed. *
* “ It's pretty bad, or at least it will be. We've got a choice between a potential anti-Christ or a woman with severe head trauma as the next democratic leader of the most powerful country in the relatively free world, a technology called virtual reality could either salvage or doom mankind with its ability to create illusionary worlds you can interact with, a nation run by a mad dictator is testing low-grade atomic weapons, and the pollution accumulated since the Industrial Revolution has triggered irreversible climate change which could destroy us all. We do n't know for sure whether any of that is going to be our end, but judging by what you are telling us about the nature of our world, a'sequel' might be just what we need. ” *
* “ Well then... ” God said, opening up his word processor and creating a new document. “ I'll see what I can do. ” *
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[ WP ] You used to be the most powerful evil overlord humanity has ever seen . Then you turned over a new leaf , and your empire is a utopia . The only person who refuses to believe you 've changed ? The hero who has tried to stop you for decades .
| I broke through the doors to his office. His back was to me. He still wore a cape, but now one of white and gold instead of black and red. He turned slowly, unsurprised, it seemed, at my violent intrusion. He gazed at my face and smiled.
`` In a way,'' Emperor Streedle said, `` I'm shocked it took you this long to come find me.''
`` When you trap a man, however superhuman he might be, in a block of solid imperturbium, and fire him off at lightspeed towards the emptiest corner of the known universe, it will take him a while to break out, get his bearings, and get back to you.''
`` Indeed,'' he said, nodding, smiling. `` I suppose that would be a bit of a pickle to break free of.''
I was trembling: not out of fear, but out of an eruption and overflow of emotion. My memories were flowing up from the deepest, darkest reaches of my spirit, and becoming images in my mind. The bodies, hundreds of thousands of bodies, charred and mangled, sprawled over the city streets and squares. The whole system of Pastor, with four inhabited planets, billions of lives, of souls, being sucked into a swirling black vortex. Visions of genocides in progress; flashes of their aftermaths. All because of him. This monster. This heartless villain. I clenched my teeth as I spoke:
`` You might have united the Six Leagues under your command. I saw the banners, the posters, the flags: bearing your face, bearing your insignia, that symbol more loathsome to me than anything else I can bring to mind. And I can bring loathsome things to mind. The ignorant citizens who live under your command, in this illusion of a land of milk and honey, built on a graveyard, built on an infamy, a villainy so wretched, so dastardly it is unspeakable, they might wave your flag, bear your symbol, and praise you. But I -- I witnessed the bloodshed and destruction waged under that shape. I know the horrors your birthed into this world. I --''
`` Enough,'' he said calmly, like a grandfather, waving at me to stop. `` Enough. I know. I know those were horrible things that I did. I know that I am beyond repentance --''
`` Repentance?'' I exclaimed. `` Repentance? You are beyond all categories of humanity: repentance is for men who have sinned, perhaps sinned even mortally. And Hell is for men who sin mortally and are not allowed to repent, or are unable to do so properly. But you, you vile demon, you monster, you're too wretched for Hell. You'd poison it. You'd make Hell itself become ill, almost instantly. I can hardly believe the universe itself, the one you stride in, triumphantly, with your face, a face you should hate even the sight of, should feel sick at the sight of, as I do, plastered on ever street corner. Repent? No. You're a disease. A disease to reality that must be cut out.''
I lunged towards him. He lifted his hand and I froze, suspended in midair. I could move no part of my body but my mouth.
`` What is this power?''
`` I have gained,'' he said, somewhat detached, somewhat sadly, `` great powers, unparalleled powers from the lives I stole. I brought them, their spirits, their energies, back into me, and now I have immense strength. I believe I am immortal. Fully deathless. A being of infinite knowledge and power and life.''
`` It's not possible, it's not possible --''
`` That the universe could be so unjust, to allow a vicious, heartless predator like me to gain such power from his acts of villainy? Yes. It hardly seems possible to me. But you must understand two things, my young friend, or, if not friend, for I see you wince at that epithet, then my young antagonist, my greatest foe and the only real challenge that ever faced me and my hegemony, you must understand that I can not die now, not even if I wanted to, and believe me, I have tried to end my own life, and also that without me in power, constantly exercising my power, my control, directly and indirectly over all the major leaders of the Leagues, without me here, putting my immense power to work, the alliance, the union, the peacetime treaties and agreements that have stopped, for the first time in millennia, the constant blooshed, it would all fall apart, disintegrate into anarchy and violence and chaos once again. Without me here, in this tower, exercising my mind, and without my face on every corner, a symbol of power and unity and fear, all this, all this peace would fall apart utterly.''
`` I can not conscience it,'' I said. `` I can not. A dog like you needs to be put down. And if you can not die ( which I doubt and will spend every moment of my life trying to disprove ) you must leave, and subject yourself to torture for eternity, self-torture and pain. You can not stand here, a leader and maker of peace. The stains on your spirit, that hateful, malignant spirit, are indelible. You are a monster, through and through.''
`` I knew you would feel this way,'' he said. `` And I do n't disagree with your feelings, through I disagree with your conclusions. You are right to feel the way that you do. Completely right. However, I can not have you spending your days sneaking up on me at times when I need to be concentrating. Nor can I have you riling the masses up against me. I need to keep the peace. So I am sorry my old -- well -- nemesis. But this is the time at which you must say goodbye.''
`` No,'' I said. He slowly drew his fingers together and as he did I felt my body being crushed, the very atoms of it being mashed closer and closer together, until it went dark.
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[ WP ] My sister found a dead bluejay outside her school . Give it a eulogy .
| Behold, the bluejay. Once the paragon of freedom, now a harbinger of all our fates. No matter where we are in life, no matter our station, class, Caste, or even species, we too shall join this once noble bird in the afterlife. Perhaps it is fitting we celebrate the life once held by this bluejay, for it is the symbol of happiness, now experiencing true and eternal happiness at the table of our Lord in heaven. May be too in our own existence know the freedom of flight in our own lives and be better for having known the bluejay, even in death. Know what, this is the bird that shit on my when I was going out to my car yesterday. Yeah, thats definetly the same one, I'd know that bastard anywhere. Fuck you, it's goos luck! Thats something people claim when talking to someone WHO WAS JUST SHAT UPON BY A BIRD. ITS NOT TRUE. A BIRDS ANUS IS NOT A LAMP AND ITS DROPPINGS ARE NOT A GENIE, DONT GIVE ME THAT SHIT THAT `` ITS GOOD LUCK''. I'm glad I Killed you, bird. Enjoy Hell!... Oh, er... well... I mean, it still has that smug look on it's face, right? I just got worked up... ahem... and so we commit this bird to the ground. Once the eater of worms, now their food, such is the circle of life. Amen.
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[ WP ] - A black van stops in front of you , and everyone inside looks exactly like you . One of them tosses you a gun and says `` No time to explain , get in the van ! ''
| `` I'm One, he's Two, Three, Four, and you are Five.'' this is all so weird, time travel must be involved. `` By now you have already gathered that time travel is involved'' One takes me by surprise.
`` We have a single job,'' Three chimes in, `` we need to kill the president.'' The van starts picking up speed. `` But first, we need to pick up Six.''
The entire world starts to feel, well the only way to describe it is wobbly. Like everything was shaking, even though everything is still. Well as still as a moving van can be.
We pull back up to my house and there I am again. Standing dumbfound, still wondering how a van exploded into existence while taking out the trash.
One opens the back door, and just like last time, he throws me a pistol, and says, just as calmly, `` No time to explain, get in the van!''
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[ WP ] Your SO of 3 years tells you that he/she is Satan
| John grumbled under his breath, `` No kidding.''
Destiny bolted upright from the living room couch. `` What was that?''
`` Nothing, honey,'' John replied louder than necessary.
`` I know what Nothing is, dear,'' Destiny-slash-Satan said. `` I was cast like lightning to fall from Heaven into the nothing that is Hell, where I reigned for over two-thousand years in darkness with naught but demons and the damned to keep me company.''
John did n't stop washing the dishes. `` I know you're tired, honey, but even your sisters were n't that bad.''
`` Are you even listening to me?'' Destiny/Satan demanded.
John recited, monotone, `` Lightning and falling, Heaven and Hell, reigning in darkness and demons and damned.'' He stopped washing for a minute. `` You're not talking about work, are you? This is n't about Eric being promoted over you to head of HR?''
Behind John's back, Destiny/Satan glowed with hellfire that basked the living room in flickering red light and shadow.
`` You know,'' John continued, `` you have n't gotten a raise in a while. How long have you been there before we met? Four? Five years?''
Destiny/Satan's eyes glowed furious white. `` I arrived upon this mortal plane to collect the souls of the damned to reinforce my cursed armies in preparation for the ensuing siege on Heaven's gates.''
John rinsed and put away a few plates in the drainer. `` Thus why I deleted my Reddit account,'' he quipped.
`` John...'' Destiny/Satan marched from the crimson-lit living room tracking fiery footsteps behind her, moving fast but seemingly slow at the same time. `` Honey... Dear... Sweet, sweet dear...''
`` Holy shit,'' John remarked. `` I have n't heard that tone of voice since the first time we had wild sex.'' The man turned. `` Are we gon na --'' He saw. `` Uh.'' He swallowed. `` You seem a little... mad.''
Destiny/Satan got up in her boyfriend's face, asking, `` Am I? Really, am I, dear sweet John? Did I have to turn into my demonic form for you to finally notice my feelings?''
`` Well, no...'' John looked away, but his girlfriend raised a finger tipped in green hellfire to turn his face back to hers. `` I mean, I thought you were kinda...''
`` Say it, John,'' Destiny/Satan whispered. `` Say it and fry forever in eternal brimstone.''
John made a nervous chuckle. `` Could be worse,'' he admitted. `` We could go to your family's reunion again.''
Destiny/Satan blinked white eyes. `` What?''
`` I mean,'' John hesitated a moment, `` I guess it figures that they're hellspawn, too. Look at Uncle Fossy. He's a Catholic priest, is n't he? And what about your Aunt Loren? Wal-Mart executive.''
Destiny/Satan gave her boyfriend a shake, demanding, `` What's your point, mortal fool?''
`` Hey,'' John pointed out. `` You may be Satan, but you turned out all right. At least you're honest, and that's why I love about you.'' He bowed his head. `` I'm sorry I did n't believe you sooner.''
Destiny/Satan stared at him for a few long moments. `` Wait,'' the Lady of Hell said, `` You're okay with me being Satan?''
John shrugged. `` Sataness, is n't?'' He saw her look. `` Cmon,'' he plead. `` I was okay with you being a demon in the sack, was n't I? Bondage and whips and chains and everything. It figures, now, why you were so good at it.''
`` Well,'' Destiny/Satan admitted, `` for a mortal man, I guess you are more fun than most.'' She flared again. `` But you're still a mortal!''
`` Jeez.'' John messed with his ear, feigning deaf. `` You're telling me. I work tech support, remember? That's not the worst insult I hear on a daily basis by far.''
Destiny/Satan sighed and took her hands off of him. `` Yeah,'' she said. `` I guess I really ca n't do much worse to you in Hell than tech support up here.''
John smiled. `` Baby...'' He stepped forward, resting a hand below her chin to look her in her white eyes. `` I do n't care if you're the boss of Hell. No matter what happens, even if you fell like lightning, you're still an angel to me.''
Destiny/Satan cackled. `` You're so damned stupid, John,'' she said, her eyes returning to normal and her hellfire diminishing. The room began to return to normal. `` I ca n't believe you just used that line. That's terrible. You're going to Hell for that.'' She stood up on the balls of her feet and gave him a quick kiss. `` Where you're going to be my plaything forever.''
John wrapped his arms around his woman, whispering in her ear, `` There's worse afterlife fates. Can you imagine?'' he asked her. `` An eternity of tech support? Thanks, but no thanks. I'll take the whips and chains.''
Destiny/Satan snuggled into her boyfriend's shoulder. `` You just gave me the most wicked idea.''
`` I just put an idea in Hell's Suggestion Box, and it was accepted,'' John noted. `` Score.''
|
[ WP ] Upon turning 21 , the prices of products are reduced according to the amount of life you have left . You attempt to buy alcohol for your 21st tonight and the register reads 'CARD DENIED : ERROR 42 ' .
| *Card denied? What the hell? *
Despite the feeling of a rock dropping into my stomach ( an icy one at that ), I forced myself to smile. The irritable cashier looked at me with unusually sympathetic eyes.
`` It's just a scratch, I scratched the magnetic strip. No worries,'' I said, offering another semi-sincere grin.
Leaving the booze behind, I went outside and got into the car with my friends.
`` No beers?'' Steve asked. `` What the hell, man?''
I shrugged. `` My card was messed up.''
`` So we do n't get messed up,'' Hud, from the back seat, replied. A few annoyed laughs issued from everyone, save for myself. I felt sweat droplets running across my forehead.
`` You alright, man?'' Steve asked.
I nodded. `` Yeah, I'm fine. Do n't worry. What's plan B?''
`` Brit is down on the beach with her friends. Let's go,'' Steve said.
Happy to be away from the damned liquor store, I put the car in drive and sped out of the parking lot. With growing relief, I turned onto Glossner Street and began driving toward the beach. My knuckles were white, my hands trembling.
`` Whoa!'' Steve shouted as we barely made it through a yellow light. The guys laughed.
I looked at my hands again and saw the sweat. Error 42 meant one thing, and I hoped I'd have time left to make it with Brit down on the beach. *Go out with a bang* and all that.
`` Yo!'' Steve shouted, and I looked up to see the headlights beside me before the world went dark.
|
[ WP ] Immortal beings get together to watch the extinction of the human race starting from present day . Treating the entire event as one long movie , they decide to watch your life , from now until your death , as the opening scene .
| As the coffee's heat slowly fled into the air, forming a slim whirl, it seemed as it was forming the clouds that covered the sun today. Akoni Organa Logan stared at the subject with feint eyes. This eyes had been looking for millennia, despite their immortal state, they got tired all the same.
`` What do you think he's doing now, Alpha?''
`` Shhh! Quiet, Beta'' said Akoni, who had titled himself Alpha after winning a'rock paper scissors' contest versus his equal, Aniko Agrona Anglo. `` Will you talk all through this? What's the point in trying to figure it out?''
`` I'm sorry, Alpha, it's just getting stale after a while, you know? Why does n't he start killing people? You can *see* his anger underlying''. *Indeed the subject has some restrained wrath that was just a drop away to explode, yet somehow he keeps restraining. Is this the human nature? *.
`` What are you suggesting?'' Said Alpha.
`` That maybe we can push him a little, tease him, make him burst and accelerate the extinction of mankind. That'd be fun!''
`` No, it would n't. We agreed that we would watch this without taking any action. Letting the events unfold by themselves.'' It had not been two or three centuries ago that Alpha had met Beta. They instantly recognized each other as immortals. It was Beta who had approached him first, he was the most proactive one after all. He enjoyed his immortality, it was as he considered it just a game, where he was the master and mankind nothing but a pawn for her entertainment.
`` Alright, alright. You do n't have to put that scary face, Alpha. You are'Alpha' after all, you're the man... As said these days''
`` You're wrong, it was an expression used a few years ago, now it's clearly outdated, you should know that if you do n't want to get caught and taken into some underground laboratory.''
`` It's just a few years old! No one would notice.''
`` Keep thinking like that. You'll be the bane of us all.''
The coffee store was pretty packed. It was starting to get colder after all, so as usual all common men and women would come into the store to be warmer, drink the liquid that fueled their activity, and socialize. The latter was the case for the subject, who was sitting in a table chatting up with some odd looking woman, her face a little bit male shaped, yet her skin and eyes were clearly those of a woman. With her jaw as an prominent as her nose, her hair half black half purple, a purple that had been dyed more than a few days ago, slowly fading into soft pink.
``... she was batshit crazy ya know'' said the subject. The young woman laughed, she was clearly faking it. *When you truly laugh your eyes and mouth wrinkle* thought Alpha.
`` Anyway, wan na leave''
`` Sure, where d'ya wan na go? My place''
`` Yeah, why not''.
Alpha looked at Beta, her eyes were shinning. *She's enjoying this*. As the subject left the store, Alpha and Beta did too. They always kept a good distance with the subject so as not to get noticed. They also had a small GPS installed in most of his shoes and backpack, just in case. It was all carefully planned. When they picked the subject they knew that they had to keep track of him anyway possible. Alpha had found his way into several shoe deposits and planted the GPS in over thirty thousand shoe pairs. Beta had the toughest part though, she had to steal one pair of shoes from the subject, so that he would buy new ones. She repeated this meticulous task several time in the trans course of several years.
`` Do you think he's gon na fuck her, Alpha?''
`` Do you wan na spoil the whole plot, or are you just stupid?''
`` Eh, you do n't have to be so mean! I just want to know what you think about the subject''.
The subject did look mildly interested in the woman, yet it was nothing more, Alpha knew love once, and the subject's eyes were not the ones of someone in love.
`` I do n't know, we'll see. That's the whole point of it anyway''.
After a few blocks the subject arrived at the destination, and he and the girl got into a house. *Now the tricky part*, thought Alpha.
`` Ok, time to use *that*.''
`` Why do n't you call it by it's name?''
`` I just do n't like it''.
`` Pff, you're such an oddball, Alpha.'' said Beta as she pulled what looked like a dice with 10 sides. Beta hit a combination of the dice and a slow whirling sound gradually filled the street. Only Alpha and Beta could hear it though. Suddenly'it' appeared in the middle of the street. It was none other than the Aragon 272. *I hate that name* thought Alpha. The spaceship was long yet slim, it occupied two lanes and half the length of the street. It glowed with a light blue in the borders and a dim silver that if not looked at directly could be completely ignored by the untrained eye.
`` Come on, climb on before some car crashes into it!''
So he did. The interior was certainly stunning at first sight, but after two hundred years it was nothing but a common spaceship used by The Immortals like Alpha and Beta. When bought the spaceship had no name, but Beta was obsessed with human's ships that had names, so she *had* to put it a name. And so she did, yet every five or ten years she changed it to another name that sounded'cool' to her.'Aragon 272' was nothing but an anagram for Agrona, and Organa, both of their middle names of origin. 272... Well, this was even more stupid... Beta not only loved ships, she loved human technology, she bought the first cellphone she found. Thus 272 are the keys you have to use in a cellphone to write `` ARA''.
*I should choose the next name* though Alpha. *I shall call it *Blue Silver Spaceship* that would make *her* hate the name for a few years.
`` It's good to be home!'' said Beta as she fell on the co-pilot's chair.
`` Indeed.'' sighed Alpha.
`` C'mon, Alpha! Do n't be so gloomy!''
`` All I wish is that we did n't have to leave the spaceship. The human air is worse than that in M5-32. And that's a pure methanol atmosphere...''
`` For fun, Alpha! If we just sit in here all day, what's the point? It's good to be inside the story, not just watch from afar!''
`` Is that why you were so insistent on using GPS instead of our incredible alien spaceship?''
`` It certainly is. Who cares anyway, it's not like we actually had to work and pay for those thirty thousand GPS, and if found, then some humans will be freaked out, I wish I could see all of their reactions!''
`` We can, just activate these but-''
`` No, no no! It's more fun if we watch it personally, seeing the reactions live!''
`` Well we certainly can not sneak into all of these people's houses, we would be found, and our cover would be blown''.
`` For those rare cases we use Aragon 272!'' said Beta with a smile.
Alpha sighed once again. `` Well let's see what he's doing with this woman''.
/////////////////////////////
That's all for now! Got ta eat: D
Disclaimer: English is not my first language!
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[ WP ] `` I can not love you.. I do not have enough Emotion Points right now . But i soon will.. ''
| Clara gives me a warm embrace. I'm satisfied by it but I know my embrace is not the same as hers. Mine is friendly and somehow distanced. Hers is intimate and delightful.
She breaks away almost pushing me away from her. A heavy sigh leaves her lips. An angry flush appears on her face and she turns away from me.
`` I can not love you..'' I shake my head. She knows what I'm going to say. It's always the same, but I feel the need to reiterate. `` I do not have enough Emotion Points right now. But I soon will..''
We are AI. The Humans have built us with purpose but have finally given us lives to lead. Just as equal to them. They thought it would be good to give us the technology of Emotion. I know it's just a fail-safe to keep us from'turning' on them. We could care less about that. We just want to live our lives and find another bot to share our lives with when we retire from our service contract.
Every emotion has a price. General Happiness, Fleeting Disappointment, and Sarcasm come cheap and most people can earn that in an hour at work. Things like Courage, Spite, and Lazy are attainable luxuries. Love, Pride, and Daring is something we dream about and most will earn upon retirement.
She works for a family as a Nutritional Operator. Working for a family is probably the best. You are privately built, maintained, and given a much higher allowance than someone like me. I am a city worker. I do the traffic coordinating for the downtown sector during early morning commuting. City workers are built by the city to serve the city. However since I work a very busy time-frame, I am paid slightly more the the average Traffic Coordinator.
Love costs 10,000 EPs. She had been saving since she was a little girl. She bought Love for one bot. That bot is me. Her circuits must be fried to buy Love because of me. She says she loves to look into my optical lenses, spending time watching the motherboards spark and glow with me, that I was the only bot that made Love seem worth all those EPs.
I wanted so badly to reciprocate her Love. I have a savings account that I started when I first started work. I was saving up for Daring and few Courages. Perhaps I'd be like Lex7 Reynolds903, who was a world class water sports competitor. He competed with the Humans! But I met her. Her tungsten details on her aluminum alloyed with copper caught my lenses immediately. My pacemaker sped up and I was worried I'd overheat if I looked at her longer. How could a fem-bot like that ever want a brushed stainless steel with squeaky joints bot like me? Her name did n't even have a number. She was first generation. I'm Robert12 Harrison742, from a long line of Robert models.
The more time we spent together, the more I was putting into my savings for Love. My savings balance is at 9,742 EPs. It's gon na take at least another month and a half to save it up.
I grit my dental processors and look back to her, she's shaking her head. I force my CPU to not to feel Shame, that'll cost me 2 EPs.
`` Robert..'' She fixes a few loose hair filaments. `` It's okay. I'm just so Anxious and..'' I heard the ping of what was probably 4 or 5 EPs on her account disappear. She does n't say another emotion, so not to waste her daily allowance. `` You'll get there. I know you will.'' She smiles, showing her pearly dental processors.
I smile. I'm down to 9,739. I'm okay with that. She understands. In 2 months I'll earn Love and we'll go down to the AI Legal Services and get our Marriage Connection certificate. I'm hopeful. 9,734.
|
[ WP ] An inconsequential super hero and an insignificant super villain do battle on the streets of New York .
| The metal trap clamped shut with a vicious clang, squish, & crunch. DogWelder had his next catch. So many lost pups out on the streets of Hell's Kitchen & only one man had any idea what to do with them: weld them to the faces of strangers. He could n't be sure that it would fix anything, but it kept him busy after a long day at the pound. Of course, there was cause for caution. A new masked hero had been seen prowling the streets. A man who fought blindfolded. DogWelder knew these streets well & had his latest victim bound in a alleyway's dumpster a few blocks away. As he dragged the broken mutt to the dumpster, he heard a shout from around the corner.
`` Halt! I am A^r^m^-^F^a^l^l^-^O^f^f^-^B^o^y^!''
Whatever it was, it was too far behind him. The blindfolded demon did n't announce his presence so carelessly, so there was little cause for concern. Most likely, it was just another drunk or crack addict roaming the night. DogWelder pulled a bound & squirming banker from the refuse bin. A squirming banker who had denied his loan. A loan for more oxyacetelyne. Oxyacetelyne to weld dogs to faces. Oxyacetelyne was n't cheap. Neither were bear traps. This little banker goes to the dogs. DogWelder pulled down his welder's mask, donned his gloves, & brought the maimed mutt against the skull of his newest prey. He lit the oxy-fuel torch and lifted it toward the banker's gagged & pleading face.
`` *Halt! * I am Arm-Fall-Off-Boy! Release that citizen & drop the puppy!''
`` What the shit is this? *No. *'' DogWelder chose to ignore the non-threat in a pink unitard.
`` *Halt*, ne'r-do-well!'' Upon hearing this, the banker appeared more confused than relieved.
`` No.'' Dogwelder resumed welding dogs.
Arm-Fall-Off-Boy detached his left hand & threw it at DogWelder, slightly skewing his welding mask.
`` Okay, loony toon. Check this out.'' DogWelder readjusted his mask & welded the fresh wiggling hand on the pavement onto the banker's face as well as the dog.
`` I said halt! I need that!'' Arm-Fall-Off-Boy removed his hand-less left arm & charged toward DogWelder, intending to club him with the shoulder end of the appendage.
`` *You* should halt, *Arm*y Boy.''
`` Never! You're coming wi -- -*Yowza! * That *smarts! *'' Arm-Fall-Off-Boy had tripped another of DogWelder's bear-traps, crippling his right ankle. `` No matter! I'll still apprehend you!'' He detached his right leg at the knee, leaving it in the trap. He continued his limping approach of the crime-scene with his hand-less arm in hand, ready for battle.
`` What the shit....''
`` Submit to apprehension! The 30^th Century will see you pay for your crimes!''
`` Crimes? I'm bringing man & man's best friend together. Forever.''
DogWelder continued welding dog, face, & hand together without interruption or looking up from the work at hand. The stench of unconventional barbecue wafted throughout the alleyway.
`` Smell that? That's the 21^st Century, you volitional amputee.''
`` I will see you answer for your transgressions against hound & man!''
`` I doubt it.''
DogWelder had had enough. He turned the valve on his oxy-fuel tank up to the highest point & walked toward the increasingly limbless & limping do-gooder. As he applied the torch to Arm-Fall-Off-Boy's face, a blood-curdling scream was set loose, but only for a moment. Arm-Fall-Off-Boy, in a panic, had fallen to pieces emotionally & literally. As a mess of limbs lay about the writhing torso, DogWelder stood in confused awe. He lifted the squirming face from the ground beside its torso & held it in front of his mask. The mouth moved furiously, but without vocal cords no words came out. DogWelder stared into the watchful eyes of Arm-Fall-Off-Boy, but all Arm-Fall-Off-Boy could see was his own face in the reflection of a bloody welding mask. DogWelder resumed his work of grafting dog to man. In the wake of the encounter, only one thing had truly changed: the banker would now have a face welded to the face of the dog welded to his face.
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[ RF ] / [ WP ] `` 500 Writing Prompts '' Name the top ten things on your bucket list .
| Lounging on the warm sand and slowly baking, Vincent started to think more and more about that message in a bottle he'd flung out to sea. He could see it in his mind, tumbling end over end and then a splash of white sea water before the bottle floated up to the top of the surf.
Vincent wondered who would receive his message. It made him think about the possibilities of life. Grabbing a napkin, Vincent asked the large, flabby old woman next to him if he could borrow a pen.
Staring down at the blank white square of recycled paper, Vincent contemplated what he most wanted to do with his life. When he was finally done writing, his list looked something like this:
* Publish a book
* Have a musical composition or arrangement of his performed for a real audience
* Perform in a musical
* Win state championship ( s )
* Treehouse
* Road trip across America
* Train trip across Europe
* Attend the World Cup
* Attend the Olympics
* Establish a Gifted and Talented Preparatory Academy
Vincent knew he'd have to go back through and put them in order of what was most important, but he knew it was more important that he got his thoughts on the paper so he could keep them.
Vincent carefully placed the napkin back into his bag and returned the pen before pulling his hat down low and laying back on the sand again.
|
[ WP ] A superhero who has been fighting a supervillain for many years suddenly realizes that all the 'evil ' things the villain has done have ended up doing good in the long run .
| **Wow this got so huge! Definitely the most popular post I've ever made haha. I'm so glad you all enjoyed it! I will definitely be adding more tonight as a reply to this post, be sure to check back later!
Thank you all for your kind words! **
Destructo could sense somebody in his lab, even with the lights off. Before he moved his arm toward the switch, he closed the door behind him. The steel locks clicked into place, the noise loud enough to cover up the quiet beep as he touched a large button under his button-down shirt. He spun around quickly, flipping on the lights as a the fabric of his left sleeve disintegrated, revealing a plasma cannon that slid down over his hand and whirred loudly.
25 feet away, sitting in his favorite chair, Ultimus blinked several times while his eyes adjusted to the light. He was only wearing one of his bright blue boots, the other foot covered only with a dingy off-white sock, his big toe protruding through a hole in its front. While he was indeed wearing his trademark red tights, his underwear was worn *beneath* them. He held a bottle of Jack Daniel's up to his lips, tilted his head back and drank deeply, emptying it in seconds. He then reached down into a brown paper sack at his feet and produced another bottle. He drained it just as fast.
For a moment, Destructo was unsure how to react to this pathetic sight. Before him sat the super-powered bane of his existence, who'd sent him to prison again and again, forcing Destructo to devise ever-complicated methods of escape. What's more, here sat this indestructible man, drunk off his ass and farting into his favorite chair- Destructo had no idea what to say. He finally settled on,
`` What the fuck, Ultimus?''
The hero burped loudly, the force rattling glass beakers and metal instruments across the large laboratory. He stood, stumbled closer to Destructo and raised his finger to jab it into his chest, empty bottle still in hand.
`` You know what guy...'' he paused for several seconds, his eyes clearly struggling to find focus on his adversary's face. They finally came to rest upon Destructo's mechanical left eye. `` You... I figured you out today,'' he slurred. He brought his mouth close to Destructo's ear and whispered, `` I know *exactly* what you're all about.''
He moved back to the chair and attempted several times to bend over and grab another bottle. This task took him more than a minute, during which time Destructo looked at the ceiling to his lab, noticing for the first time a large, human shaped hole in it. Above the hole was 44 stories of solid bedrock. He sighed and powered down his plasma cannon, which slid back up his arm in plates that came to rest as a band around his bicep. Then he rubbed his temples.
`` Why are you here Ultimus?'' he exhaled, walking over to pick up a bottle and hand it to his nemesis. The hero looked sheepishly at the bottle, and after grasping air a few times finally gripped the bottle and slumped back into the recliner.
`` You do... you do my job better than me,'' he whimpered. Needless to say, Destructo was stunned. He opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly interrupted. `` N-no no, no you do n't you say nothing. I know. I seen it on your marker-board,'' Destructo glanced at the floor-to-ceiling whiteboard, upon which was described his eighteen part plan to solving each of the worlds most pressing problems. `` I get it, *maaaaaan*,'' he drew out the last syllable, `` you ca n't fix things by punching. You ca n't!'' he chuckled. A small bit of drool leaked from the corner of his mouth. He sucked it up and wiped his chin with his hand.
`` You... you know what you're doin'. You got *eeeeeverybody* all convinced that yer a bad guy. But I know... I know...'' he sobbed loudly for several agonizingly awkward seconds. Destructo looked from side to side for help, but realizing he was alone in this situation he slowly put his hand on the shoulder of his arch rival.
`` I just make ebring the.... every the... everything worsh!'' He was n't wrong, so Destructo did n't say anything. `` I do n't even deserff to to wear this U on my chest.'' He pointed to the symbol, flashily embroidered on his costume. Destructo winced.
As sympathetically and compassionately as he could, he leaned down and said,
`` Buddy that... that's the symbol for `` Omega''... and it's upside down.''
Ultimus stared up into his eye for a moment before bursting into super tears.
|
[ WP ] `` Get Up , Soldier , You 're Not Dead Yet ''
| My legion marched as one, shields up. We came ever nearer to the enemy line, but there was yet to be combat.
But it was coming up. Up ahead, I could see the enemy line, shields up, spears at the ready. I could hear the clatter of our armor and the rumbling of the footsteps as we drew closer to the enemy. On beat, one-two, one-two, one-two.
Then, above me. I looked up to see our arrows had loosed, sending a hail of arrows straight into their lines. They cut through the air as they soared overhead, driving themselves into cracks in the shields, and cutting through the noise of our marching with high-pitched screeching.
Every shield faltered. The force of the arrows drove them back, loosened their footing for a split second. That was our cue. All at once, our commander screamed over the commotion, calling for us to charge. Our last-minute charge started, and we drove straight into their front line. Their shields were gone in seconds. A new sound came into my ears, the high-pitched screech of metal on metal, resounding all throughout the battlefield. Their shields dropped, their soldiers came, and the battle erupted.
Within moments, blood splattered across the battlefield. I heard the screams of soldiers dying as they were impaled in their hearts, I heard them crying for help as they lay there disemboweled.
And I heard nothing else when I clashed with another, swords shrieking as they collided. A swordfight for the centuries, neither of us gave ground, our swords clashing with each other or colliding with the other's shield. I swung overhead full force, only to be deflected and caught in the other's cross-guard. I was n't able to move my blade, and I could only stare in horror as he smirked. He brought his sword down on my head but I smacked it away with my shield, instead only grazing my ear. It let my sword free, but the man brought his shield back up and slammed it straight into the side of my skull, directly on my other ear.
I was knocked onto my back. I could n't breathe, my lungs felt like they were full of dirt and blood. The man stood above me, prepared to finish the job. I closed my eyes. I had no energy. I could n't do anything.
But then, instead of the cold steel of a blade driving through my skull, I felt a hand on my chest-piece, pulling me up. I opened my eyes to see a friend. I looked to my left to see the man with a gaping hole in his chest.
He hoisted me to my feet, and patted me on the back, but I realized all at once, there was no noise. There was only a ringing in my ears, incessant. I could n't hear the wailing of men, or the cold clash of metal on metal. I looked at my ally, but I could only read his lips. I heard no voice, I heard no comforting tone.
I was barely able to piece together what was said.
`` Get up, soldier, you're not dead yet.''
-- -
I may have forgotten what the prompt was halfway through. Oops.
I also may have forgotten what my point was entirely. Double oops?
|
[ WP ] After 7 decades you find the song you 've been looking for .
| “ Holy sweet fuck of Zeus! ” I screamed out, gripping the hand rail, attached within our autopod. I ’ d never trusted these automated flying machines, when I was young we drove ourselves places and we got there just fine, but now add flying to the mix and holy moly, that ’ ll get my heart going. However, it wasn ’ t an accident or any kind of auto related incident. It was what was playing in the vehicle ’ s speakers. A song. A song I remembered hearing long, long ago and had forgotten.
I suddenly remembered hearing the song as a child, my father playing it for me. I remembered remembering the song in my teen years and trying to find it and failing. I remembered giving up in my twenties. And now. At least seven decades later, here it is. I ’ d searched, I ’ d hunted, I ’ d hummed it out to people. I ’ d never bumped into again until that day.
“ What ’ s the matter, Dan? ” Zybro looked to me funny, scanning me with his data ports.
“ This song! ” I pointed at the radio. “ What ’ s this song?! ” Zybro emitted a slight laughter from his speakers and pressed a small button on the auto ’ s entertainment display. A screen popped up, reading: “ Fire On High. Electric Light Orchestra. ”
“ That ’ s… It ’ s by Electric Light Orchestra?? I ’ d always heard them, but I never listened to them… HAH! ” I laughed wildly. “ Fire on High. Fire on High ” I repeated, like a mantra, trying to remember it.
“ Don ’ t you have memory notes? ” Zybro questioned.
“ Nope, never got them installed. All I got done was my ID and my bank card. Fire on High. Fire on High… Electric Light Orchestra. ” I nodded, smashing my hands on my knees to the beat of the awesome music.
“ If you had a SherlockBeatz chip you could have found out the song years ago, ” Zybro crossed his legs.
“ Yeah, but then I wouldn ’ t be this happy when I found it just now, ” I rocked my head back and forth, closing my eyes.
“ Pff, ” Zybro snorted.
Kids these days.
|
[ WP ] `` Everybody 's just a little bit broken inside . ''
| Tumbling, laughing, running and playing, the people were stumbling near the old church. They laughed, almost sounding like screams as they chased one another. Broken, they were only a shell of what they once were.
Suzanne used to be a cook. She had worked in a hotel, the best job she had ever had, doing what she loved. Now, she was like an empty can, laughing and crying, not even knowing why! Sad, that ’ s what it was. Her life gone, her passions gone. Broken, that ’ s what she was.
Hector. He was a construction worker. He started his own business, which became very successful. He was rich, having earned money to support his family and spoil his kids. Now, he ran around the yard, knocking down whatever people created, destroying structures art and imagination. He broke it without a thought. Behind him, his children ran, crying and trying to reach out to him. They wore golden necklaces and rings with gems, gifts from their father. They now forgot the importance of them.
But there was one person among this crowd of wind up toys that was still sane and alive in some way. She sat by the edge of the church, keeping out of sight for the others had already tried to kill her three times.
She could think, she could hear and she could see them. All stupid and broken as they ran around chasing each other like dogs! She felt anger swell up inside her but it quickly died down. She couldn ’ t have another scene, the last one had ended with her almost dying.
She had learned last time. She had learned what these broken people strove for. It was uniformity. Because in their own drunken, drugged minds, they were all normal. That was their life and they loved it. When they saw her, she was a black sheep, the crow among the flamingos and they hated her. They didn ’ t hate her because she was the only one sane and unbroken but they hated her for being different.
Now, the girl cried because she too realized this and she was sad to not fit in. She had lost so much!
To fit in… That urge is so strong…
Slowly, it crept in.
The madness. It seeped through her system, breaking her.
And, like all of the other outside the church, she began to dance, sing, cry and laugh all at once. Like all of the others, she broke when because she wanted to be like everyone else.
They had broken to belong.
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[ WP ] : You found it . The fountain of youth . You feel the strength returning to your limbs , the wrinkles disappearing from your face , and ... You realise you never looked like this before .
| I have finally found the Fountain of Youth, I say to myself. I look down at my old wrinkle face one last time before I reach in and scoop up some water of the fountain. I sip the water out of my hands and immediately feel my skin tightly, hair returning to my head but something feels off. I feel like I am trapped in my body.
My eyes look down into the fountain but I am not in control of them. My reflection does n't look anything like me from when I was younger. My skin was tanner and my eyes that were once blue as the ocean were now green.
I tried to speak but no words come out of my mouth. Then I hear myself laughing. `` Ha, ha,'' comes out of my mouth, deeper then my voice ever was.
`` Finally, I have been released'' is the last thing I hear as everything goes black and my mind goes blank.
|
[ WP ] Every human on earth has an on/off switch for their emotions . You are calling customer services due to a malfunction in yours .
| `` Yes. No. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh for fu -- - Customer service! Customer service! Representative. Representative. Repr -- CHRIST!''
Bill was already an hour and a half into the automatic Voicemail system when he realized -- his emotions had returned!
The switch that had shut them off had somehow been reactivated, whether by chance or by will -- it did n't matter! Finally Bill could live his life again, as a functioning, raging human being who hated everyone and everything.
`` Thank you,'' he whispered into his phone, which was now humming a third repeat of the on-hold jingle. `` Thank you Timewarner, for bringing back my unrelenting rage and fury.''
|
[ WP ] `` He ran his fingertips across the smooth surface of the picture . ''
| He ran his fingertips across the smooth surface of the picture.
Her smile met with his and for a brief moment the sound of her laughter danced across the room. A tear fell on the old photograph, stirring up the dust that had accumulated over the years.
`` Oh, Bonnie'', the man whispered. He adjusted his glasses and began to work his way through the stack of photos sitting at the bottom of a beaten old chest, stopping again on another picture.
Bonnie, in her wedding gown, gazing out the window of a magnificent castle towards the sunset. Bearing a look of tranquility as she reflected on the day.
`` My, my she looks beautiful'', he said, feeling a lump in his throat lurch its way through.
The man flipped through more pictures, stirring up old memories and emotions. Each picture drawing a laugh, a sigh, or simply a glancing twinkling eye reminiscing on a life spent with her.
After a long while he slowly stood up and walked over to the corner of the room, sitting down with a grunt.
He stared out the window to watch the sunset fall behind the tall mountain peaks, where under the tree in the front yard and old friend lay gently beside her gravestone. Feeling the urge to join, he gingerly walked through the creaking tree house eventually making it out to the yard.
The man ran his callused hands across the top of the gravestone and gave his friend a pat on the head. `` We've sure had some wonderful adventures together, have n't we Jake? ``, he said followed by an approving nod.
As the sky darkened the two friends walked back towards the house, where the man turns around as to give one last goodbye.
`` I will always love you, my Princess.''
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[ WP ] [ PI ] The protagonist from your latest WP meets the protagonist of your first WP . How does it go ?
| ( [ First WP ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2hvsy1/wp_everyone_gets_a_clock_at_birth_with_the/ckxo3gl ), [ last WP ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3vl2ub/wpwhen_youre_born_you_are_assigned_a_godfictional/cxot2jh ) )
Samu looked at the latest visitor in his office. He did a double take. That person looked like an actor in a Roman movie. Clad in a flimsy tunic and sandals, he stood at least 2 meters tall. His face and his arms were scarred. He was carrying a large, round shield. All in all, he was not the person you expect to appear in an immigration office.
`` Moini! Ishpin Kiril.'' he roared. When he received only strange looks, he repeated the same sentence in Irish Gaelic. Samu grimaced. This was one of the languages he understood but when speaking mangled the grammar. He understood however that the person introduced himself as Kiril.
Samu put his hands on his foreheadm a gesture he was prone to do when thinking, then he replied in Gaelic: `` May God and Mary be with you. My name is Samu, and my colleague here is Jan. Can you tell me the reason for your visit?''
Kiril looked at the ground. `` I came here to explain the worship of the Deity of Defeat to the people of Schleswig. But my ship fell into a glowing hole. Now I am here.''
This seemed strange. Samu had to ask several times whether he understood correctly. Eventually he understood: `` You tried to reach Schleswig-Holstein by boat? From where did you come?''
`` *Poblacht na hÉireann*'' Kiril said, `` but I did n't want to get to your Schleswig-Holstein, I wanted to go to my *na Shlessish*. It is a different place!''
Samu nodded: `` So you wanted to get to a place you called Shlessish, but mistravelled? Can you show me where this Shlessish is?'' Samu felt rather annoyed. He showed a map of the European Union. `` This is the Republic of Ireland, here.''
`` I can not read maps. But from the shore of Ireland, I travelled towards the sun at the middle of the time between morning and noon.''
Samu looked at this person and stepped on a discrete switch in the ground. It would dispatch security who would in this case hopefully bring this person into psychiatry to realize just how badly he was psychologically broken.
When the securty forces took the man away, it looked for a second as if he wanted to fight them, but then with an expression of sadness he complied.
Samu turned to Jan: `` These pranks get more and more elaborate! Seriously! Who makes me speak Gaelic?''
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[ WP ] You witness a complete stranger being stabbed in the street . You hold them as they bleed out .
| It was my standard Thursday evening affair.
Walk home from the office to the local drugstore, pick up some junk food to munch on, and prepare for the sweet, sweet weekend. It was a tried and true rut that I had been walking for the past four months now.
The time was 9:33 PM on the dot, the time being etched into my mind. I was stairing absentmindedly at my phone ( for the aforementioned time ) when I saw something I wished to never have to encounter.
A robbery. A stick-up, if you will. A man, weilding a small handgun, was backing an elderly gentleman ( at least 60 ) agaisnt a wall outside a building on the street parallel mine. Even at my distance, I could see the young man now, with that sort of twitch you notice on a young child as they timidly shuffle onto a stage for the first time and a voice so loud it was obviously trying to compensate for the fact the poor fool had no idea what he was doing. I thought for sure I was going to be making my first call to the police since the incident with fire.
But something happened. It was quick, something you would have missed if you were n't looking for it. In a swift motion the old man got a sweet sucker punch on this punk. I was ecstatic! Old man takes down young punk! But it did n't stop there. The man took one more punch and then reached into one of his pockets.
He left the knife he plunged right in his sternum. This was n't your moms butter knife.
I jolted across the street immediately. Raising him off of the ground, I tried to assess the wound. It did n't matter, wound was massive and removing the knife would only make matters worse.
I scanned his eyes.
`` Why?''
It was the only word I could form coherently. This kid could have avoided all of this! I guess I just had to know why he was doing something so stupid! This could have been avoided!
In a quickly fading voice I heard him mumble some nonsense and point off into the distance and then he would stammer the words `` do n't leave'' and continue to mumble some more. He started crying, and as much as he could with me restraining him, would violently shake.
I wanted answers, so no way I was about to leave or let him ( try to ) leave. And then I finally looked at where he was pointing.
A small girl, really young, sitting on a bench with a balloon. A young woman, sitting there with her. We locked eyes for a moment. She knew what had happened.
I knew what had happened.
There was some stupid thing on a website that had some kind of open survey for people who witnessed someones death. It asked what the persons last words were. I had always wanted to know if I would hear some last words.
I realize now that the words are meaningless without the full context. Emotions, People, context.
The half crazed mumbles I heard were n't important, and to an outsider, would not even move them.
But that night, I knew. What started as pure anger and pity turned to empathy and remorse. I was moved. His mumbles are hauntingly beautiful to me now. Sometimes I can still hear him. Seeing the poor little girl, as the crying mother clutched daughter close, only complain about loosing her balloon, and then asking if `` daddy'' would get her a new one.
In the end, it was as if he never said a word, but his entire life's story seem to unfold before my eyes in this one scene.
That was his true, last word.
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[ WP ] `` I probably would 've hated her , if I had n't fallen in love with her first . ''
| Eyes so blue, they were iridescent, twinkling softly in the shifting rainbows behind me. Face cool to the touch, she turned to my hand, expecting milk. There was little I could do but stare in awe. As the snowflakes danced around the sputtering Accord struggling against the feathery embrace on its wheels to leave the cul-de-sac, I sat down in front of the fireplace, unfurled the note nestled between her bundled blanket.
I had n't meant to let go of my life so quickly to hold up another's, but once I had, I could n't let go. I probably would've hated her for it, if I had n't fallen in love first.
|
Daily Prompt : The Alphabet Game [ Difficulty level : HARD ]
| Any other person would have been allowed to come into the shop. Basically my boss was cool with just about anybody doing business with us, so long as they were willing to pay money and get out of the way for the next shmuck in line. Carter was the one person that was banned from the store; something neither he or my boss were comfortable talking about.
Driving home from work last week, I noticed Carter hanging around the stoop of the Old Post Office where he was having a smoke. Evading my gaze as I drove past him, it was clear that he was not wanting to anything to do with me. From what I had heard from gossiping woman at the Tim Hortons, Carter felt betrayed by me and my coworkers. `` Great...'' I thought to myself. `` He's pissed at me for sure.''
I decided I needed to talk to him about what had gone down that day. Just because he was n't willing to talk about it with Selma Barrington did n't mean he'd hold out on the details from one of his best buddies. Kicking the cold steps before him, Carter looked up as I pulled up to the sidewalk. `` Leave me be,'' he urged. `` unless you're here to tell me you are leaving that shithole and going to work somewhere else.''
`` Maybe you should tell me what the hell is going on?'' I demanded. `` Nobody knows what the hell happened between you two, so why the hell would we take sides without knowing the facts?''
`` Obviously you do n't, or you would have quit working for that freak.'' Carter retorted like a sulking child. Picturing him like a twelve year old made this situation seem less pathetic in my mind initially, but now I was beginning to get the sense that maybe I should take a step back and reorganize myself.
`` Quit being so damn foolish.'' I told him as he suddenly stood up to walk away, pretending to ignore me. `` Really? So what now?''
`` That bastard...'' he grumbled after he stopped his retreat, facing opposite of me. `` Useless people like him have no business doing what he did.''
`` Vent all you need to,'' I assured him calmly. `` Would you just turn, face me, and tell me what he did to make you so furious.''
`` Xavier,'' he began as he turned around. `` You need to mind your own fucking business and back off.'''Zany' Zach Carter from my graduating class of 1986 never spoke to me again after he said those words.
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[ WP ] Your parents insist you are their biological child , but you suspect otherwise . You send samples from yourself , your parents , and siblings to a lab be tested . The lab replies that it is not equipped to test non-human DNA ...
| `` Mom? Dad?'' I asked. `` Can we talk for a second?'' I shivered a little bit. I ca n't remember the last time I shivered.
`` What is it, son?'' Dad replied.
`` It's just...'' I started, and then could n't find the words to finish.
Dad noticed the consternation on my face, and said, `` It's OK. Start at the beginning.''
`` Well, lately, I've been feeling... weird. It's like... well, I go out and work in the fields all day, and I never, ever feel tired.''
`` Well, that's what clean country living will get you,'' Mom said.
`` No, I mean, I do n't even feel the least bit winded. And lately, I've been hearing things other people do n't hear, and seeing things other people do n't see.''
`` You what?'' Dad raised an eyebrow. `` You did n't hurt your head or anything, did you?''
`` No, I mean real things. Things too far away for anybody else to notice. And that's not all either. Weird things keep happening. Things that make me feel like I do n't belong here. So, I... I...''
`` C'mon, son.''
`` I cut off a lock of your hair and Mom's hair while you were asleep, and I sent it to a lab for testing with some of mine. And they sent me this back.''
I gave them the letter. As they read it, I continued, `` It says they do n't test non-human DNA. *Non-human DNA. * **My** DNA is apparently non-human.''
I was expecting them to be shocked, or... something. I did n't expect what I got. Both of them just gave me a thousand yard stare. As if they knew this was coming, but still did n't know what to say.
I pushed them a little further. `` Dad... Mom... What am I?''
Dad breathed a sigh, and turned to Mom. `` Martha, get your coat,'' he said. `` It's time we showed Clark the truth.''
|
[ WP ] You receive a phone call to the wrong number asking for Lucifer . Assuming it 's a joke you play along only to realize you 're actually speaking with God himself .
| The phone rang, blearily he reached over and tried to grab it, missing several times.
`` God damn, what time was it? Who the fuck is calling at this hour, whatever it is.'' He grumbled as his hand furiously tried to grab his cell phone off the table. He was n't on call that night, he should have shut his phone off. Finally he opened his eyes and saw the glow of his screen as it vibrated and moved across his bedside table. Snatching it up angrily like it was the phones fault some asshat was calling in the middle of the night. He swiped across the screen to answer but missed, `` Fuck, jesus christ, come on'' One more swipe.
`` Hello?''
`` Lucy? Is that you? I really need you man.'' The man blinked, he certainly was not named Lucy. Who the fuck named their kid Lucy anymore? Who the fuck named their boy Lucy? Either way this guy sounded like he needed help and while he was n't on call, he was still a psychologist and his job was to help people, mostly off the ledge, so he would see what he could do, call of medicine and all that.
`` Can I help you, sir?'' He sat up in bed and let the bed sheets bunch in between his knees.
`` Sir? You have never called me Sir before, Lucy, look I do n't have time for this, something's up. I ca n't do this anymore, it's too much.'' The man blinked and reached up his free hand to pinch his the bridge of his nose. He was n't on call tonight! He just wanted one good night's rest. What, the, fuck.
`` What ca n't you do anymore? Are you okay? `` He needed to be sure this man, whoever he was, was n't going to harm himself. He was slower than he normally was, when he was on call he always expected to be woken up, but this night he was n't on point. The haze of sleep still clung to his body and his mind.
`` I'm not okay, the world is going to shit, and there does n't seem to be anything I can do.''
`` Sir, it is n't your job to fix the world, I know it's hard to see all the suffering but it is n't your fault. You need to focus on your life and figure out what's best for you.''
`` Is n't my fault? How can you possibly say that? I've spent my entire life trying to do right by everyone. But you know what Lucy? You really ca n't please everyone. No one cares about anyone but themselves. I tried you know? I tried so hard, it ’ s a losing battle. No one really wants help, they want to make themselves better, richer, handsomer, and where does that leave me? How can I make it work?''
The man felt for this poor soul. How hard life was already without thinking you had to fix everyone. Hell, he felt that way sometimes, when someone took their own life? How could he not blame himself. He was the one they reached out to for help and he could n't fix it. He felt every single one of his patients deaths like they were close friends, they were his personal failings.
“ Look, people are the way they are and you can ’ t try to fix them all, no one can. That ’ s their life, yours is yours too. I can help you, tell me what made you feel this bad tonight? ”
“ A child died, bone cancer, they didn ’ t catch it in time. He went within three months, he was 7. His name was Tommy and he wanted to be a baseball player. He was the best one on his team in little league. His parents were told they couldn ’ t have kids, Tommy was a miracle. I love miracles. ” The voice went further away, like the man on the other end of the phone wasn ’ t really talking to him anymore, just talking.
“ No one really believes in miracles anymore, you know? I mean I know you know! You ’ re as cynical as they get, Lucy. I suppose that ’ s why we fell apart. But miracles, they are what keeps people believing. But no one believes in them anymore. Medicine has gotten so good, but shouldn ’ t it be better? Shouldn ’ t I make it better? Kids shouldn ’ t have to die, Lucy. ”
“ That ’ s terrible, but you can ’ t just cure cancer. I ’ m sorry that you couldn ’ t save this boy, but maybe the next one. You probably save more than you lose, but I know the loses are the only thing that counts. But sir you need to remember you ’ re only human. ”
“ Human? Who are you? Where is Lucy? ”
“ Sir, I ’ m not Lucy, I ’ m a licensed psychologist and I want to help you, my name is Matt. What ’ s yours? ” There was a long, drawn out pause and the line went so quiet he wasn ’ t sure the other man was still there.
“ I ’ m God ”
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[ WP ] You are an Archangel , and the end is nigh .
| I opened my eyes slowly, and rubbed them. My head hurt, and the soft glow of the heavenly landscape was killing my hangover. I was pissed that God had woken me up early, but whatever; the guy was pretty cool, gave me a sick dental package, and the job was pretty easy. What does it mean to be a being of the eighth order of the ninefold celestial hierarchy? Fuck if I know. God has all these fancy rules and mythology surrounding this place but the truth is, if you're not a dick, God's cool. He's actually a pretty chill guy. The only thing he gets pissed about is those `` God Hates Fags'' protesters. He says it's because it's ethically reprehensible. Truthfully, I know he's just pissed because he's gay. But let's just keep that between you and me, ( he's not so keen on outing himself yet - he's waiting for the next pope to start the ball rolling ).
Anyways, I was hungover as hell from going out with Jesus last night, and getting drunk as hell. The guy is great, but he likes to ride that white pony a little too much, if you catch my drift. He was also pretty depressed; his dad had recently found out he had screwed him over a couple millennia back.
It was a couple days before 0AD, and Jesus had been raising quite the ruckus. He had started a cult, a group of locals as a joke, but it had grown into something far more serious. Under the guise of `` Christians'' Jesus had started to undermine the local government. It was fine with him, but to God, it was pissing him off. The Romans were entertaining, had some dope-ass chariot races, and all in all were n't that hard to control. But Jesus' new project was making human life a headache for God.
As punishment, God sacrificed his only son for the sins of humanity. It was a decent deal for Jesus; he got to go live back home in heaven, and because there was nowhere else for him to go, he was free to party and do as he pleased, ( outside of the realm of Earth ), for all of eternity. The trouble was, *Jesus never went through with it. * After getting drunk one night, he told me it was all an act. Mary Magdeline, ( they were friends with benefits ), simply brought him some red paint to rub on himself and his hands, hired a couple drunk romans to pretend to beat him and built a realistic looking crucifix. In actuality, all he did was hold the nails and pretend to moan. After everyone left him crucified for a couple hours, Jesus got down, took Magdeline to his buddies loft in a nearby cave, and they made sweet love for an entire weekend. Meanwhile, God, who thinks he's doing both Jesus and Humans a favour looks like a doofus.
Today, God found out that Jesus had pulled a fast one on him, so now, thanks to my douchebag friend Jesus, I've got to go cleanse the world of sinners. With Jesus' fake sacrifice, there are a hell of a lot more than we ever anticipated, and it looks like God wants me to do a full cleanse, ( he's a real fan of cleanse's, ever since he became a massive Beyonce fan ). So that's my day, making the end nigh for my fellow humans. It's going to be a busy week - the rapture today, the end of the world, and then starting humanity all over again *next* week. Thanks *Jesus. * Whatever though, him and I are going to get *wasted* after work.
All in all, for you, it might seem crazy to destroy all of humanity in a few short hours, and that such carnage might take both a mental and physical toll. Well, to you, something like watching Transformers 4 all the way through is an eternity. For me, all of human existence goes by in the blink of an eye. Time's pretty meaningless when it's infinite. Well, whatever friends, I've got to go - drinks are on Jesus tonight.
EDIT - Fixed formatting and spelling mistakes
|
[ WP ] You are being haunted by a very shy and timid ghost .
| ‘ Excuse me? ’ A soft knock sounded on the door of my bedroom. I looked up from my phone screen and squinted to see a flickery, transparent image at the door. I frowned, but it didn ’ t help me see the image any clearer.
‘ Huh? ’
‘ I ’ ve… I ’ ve come to haunt you. ’ It was a boy ’ s voice. Quite young, quite high and incredibly soft.
‘ You ’ re doing a pretty miserable job of it. ’ I had the thought that this was one of those lucid dreams where it seemed lifelike but surely couldn ’ t be the case. Therefore, I gently threw the phone down on the bedside table and snuggled down into the sheets, eyes closed. I had gone to bed later than usual on a school night, was extremely stressed as to why Diana hadn ’ t text back ( had she found out? ) and so wasn ’ t surprised that a dream like this should occur.
A clearing of the throat now occurred from the direction of the door. I breathed a deep breath; in and out, in and out, in and out. There was another clearing of the throat.
I sat up directly in my bed.
‘ What?! ’ I hissed in the direction of the door.
‘ Please sir, this is my first night by myself and I ’ m not sure what I am supposed to do. ’ The image was now sitting on the end bed. His hands ( his hands! ) were tucked into his lap, and tears ( I shook my head to see if I was seeing correctly ) were rolling down his somewhat freckled face.
‘ What do you mean this is your first night by yourself? ’ I hissed again at the boy. Did he not realise the importance of sleep on a Wednesday the night before pay review?
‘ I graduated from the ghost academy yesterday and they said I was ready. But I don ’ t feel ready. ’
‘ Did they not give you any formative assessment? ’
‘ No, I had a horrible teacher. He really didn ’ t like me. ’
I shook my head in despair. I already had thirty students in each of my five classes at school; I didn ’ t need another teacher ’ s failure.
‘ Surely you could have talked to the principal of the school? ’
‘ No, my parents were wanting to arrange a meeting but the principal never contacted me back. ’
‘ It sounds like you need to lay a complaint. How do they expect you to succeed with limited skills in such a niche market. ’
‘ Oh, I didn ’ t want to haunt. I wanted to be the ghost in the psychic murder shows; you know the one that helps finder the killer, but I wasn ’ t smart enough for that. I always gave the wrong answers. ’ Another tear rolled down the boy ’ s face. I sighed.
‘ Look, I ’ ll see if I can put together some tutoring for you so we can find out the gaps in your knowledge and make a new academic pathway for you okay? ’
He looked up at me. His big eyes were round and hollow. His thin lips quivered. A flicking light caught my eye – a message had arrived on the phone. Congratulations on the promotion. I ’ m resigning tomorrow. I gulped. Diana wasn ’ t happy. I looked back up to tell the ghost that there were many things that didn ’ t go according to plan, and life was one of them. He had disappeared.
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[ WP ] The town was just somewhere you stopped on your way somewhere else .
| `` I hate connections.'' James said as people at seemed to bleed together in a mad rush. Jessie and James, siblings, stood in line at the Edmonton International Airport patiently awaiting Air Canada's notoriously bad service.
`` Just a few more hours and we're back.'' Jessie said as she sat on her upright suitcase.
`` Who the fuck gets married in February in Saskatoon?'' James complained as he waved his e-ticket around. `` Jason was always an asshole. Always trying to be different.''
Jessie fixes something on her boot. `` Well, after this it'll only be Christmases.''
James shakes his head in quiet frustration as they are called up to the counter.
The pair are only there for three hours; it is only a stop onto somewhere else.
|
[ WP ] Angels and Demons regularly on earth have a habit of briefly possessing people to make them do good/evil respectively . One day , an angel and demon possess the same person simultaneously .
| # Apaxus and Zamanatopael, At Your Service
I pushed open the glass door, marching past the familiar insignia of the Siren outlined in green. People sat all around wooden benches and stools. I joined the back of the line, thinking my order over in my head: *Grande iced mocha with a shot of espresso. * I surveyed the countertop, judging each of the supposedly fresh pastries. Did I feel like a croissant this morning? Maybe a doughnut? Or would I stick with the usual - a breakfast sandwich?
*What does it matter? * I asked myself, deciding to go with the sandwich. Why bother switching things up?
Suddenly I was at the front of the line and there was an open spot. I stumbled forward and repeated my order to the barista as I had rehearsed every day, only mumbling once. “ One grande iced mocha with… with a, um, shot of espresso, to go please. ”
The barista picked up a cup from the middle-most sized stack and removed a Sharpie from her apron. She checked some boxes on the side of the cup, indicating the specifics of the order. “ Name? ” she droned, the marker poised to write.
“ Thom, ” I told her. She messily scrawled *Tom* on the plastic and set the cup down next to her and turning her attention to the next customer.
I had planned to move on from the error - because frankly, what did it matter? - but something came over me. It was like I couldn ’ t control my mouth. The words came out, but they weren ’ t mine.
“ Hey lady! ” I shouted at the barista. “ You spelled my name wrong! There ’ s an *H*! My name is spelled *T-H-O-M*. Get it right! ” Then, under my breath, I added, “ Imbecile. ” Or something similar. My mother would have washed my mouth with soap if she ’ d heard it.
As I moved away from the counter, people stopped to stare at me and the barista took her sharpie and crossed off Tom, replacing it with something more vulgar than I ’ d like to write.
*What was that? * I asked myself, but the reply was even more surprising than my outburst.
{ Sorry, Tommy-Boy. That *outburst*, as you call it, was me. } I heard the voice, but not really; it was coming from somewhere in my head. The thoughts weren ’ t my own, yet somehow they had to be.
{ Let me introduce myself, } the voice said. { My name is Apaxus, and I ’ ll be possessing you today. I am a demon and have been in this prestigious line of work for almost two millennia. I hope to seriously annoy you and superbly anger the people you interact with on this fine autumn day. I hope you didn ’ t have anything important planned! }
I mentally scoffed. A demon? In my mind? I must have been going crazy.
But I wasn ’ t. Apaxus assured me of that.
{ Oh, you ’ re not going crazy, } he said in reply to my thoughts. { Believe me, I ’ m real. You can ask my boss, the one and only Lucifer, when you meet him, or the Big Guy Upstairs if you ’ ve been a good boy. }
Spontaneously developing a separate personality must be qualified as *crazy*, so the foreign thoughts didn ’ t help to soothe me.
The barista called out, “ One grande iced mocha with a shot of espresso to go, for - ”
I cut her off before she could read off the curse. “ Thank you so much! ” I said and moved toward the door, holding it open for a couple who were entering.
Again, the words were not my own.
*Why would you do that? * I asked my demon. Thanking someone and holding the door for people didn ’ t seem like a very malicious thing to do, so I couldn ’ t figure out why Apaxus would.
« You know I ’ m here? » a new, unfamiliar voice rang out. « But how? I haven ’ t even announced my presence yet - which I will admit is a bit rude, but I had to jump into save you from such an awkward moment. You seemed like you could use my help - such an outburst is *not* normal, Thomas. »
{ Well this is awkward, } I heard Apaxus mutter. { Who are you, might I ask? I don ’ t even know how you got in, since Tommy-Boy over here is occupied. Explain yourself, or answer to me: Apaxus! }
« Who am I? Who are *you*? Thomas has been scheduled for a divine possession for months now! How could you not know that? And I ’ ve never even heard of an Apaxus. Which archangel are you under? Raguel doesn ’ t come out very often… Perhaps you ’ re one of Raphael ’ s? I ’ ve heard you guys are busy all the time, so maybe you weren ’ t able to check whether or not Thomas was already scheduled. Anyhow. I ’ m here to help him, so you can go back Upstairs. »
*What ’ s going on? * I thought, confused at the conflict within my head, but Apaxus and the new resident ignored me.
{ I ’ m not an angel! } Apaxus spat. { I am the demon Apaxus! Tommy-Boy was scheduled for a demonic possession earlier this week. Who are you to come in and hijack it? }
I heard the newer voice gasp, if it could do that.
« You ’ re a *demon*? Thomas, you need to get to a church right away. If you don ’ t, this creature could do some very bad things to your life. You need to trust me. My name is Zamanatopael, servant of Uriel, and I am here to bring you back in line with where you should be. Apaxus is going to upset your disbalance even more, and we simply can ’ t have that. »
Yep. I was definitely going crazy. People probably thought I was having a breakdown, standing outside a Starbucks lost in thought. My face may have been contorted but I couldn ’ t tell; all of my energy was focused on the conversation.
A woman came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder.
“ Excuse me? ” she said suspiciously. “ Are you alright? ”
I tried to answer, but I didn ’ t have control. I wasn ’ t sure who did but I hoped it wasn ’ t Apaxus.
“ Yes, thank you! We ’ re perfectly fine, ” I said cheerily. It seemed that Zamanatopael was in charge.
Suddenly my arm jerked forward and my grande iced mocha with a shot of espresso flew away. The drink hit the woman right on her bosom, exploding through the plastic. She was drenched in coffee from head to toe.
She looked at me furiously and shouted something akin to what the barista had written on my drink. She quickly slapped me and looked down, trying to assess the damage to her outfit.
*Zamanatopael! Why did you do that? * I demanded of my mind.
« That wasn ’ t me, » the angel replied. « I only took control of your words. It must have been Apaxus, unless you suddenly decided to ruin that woman ’ s day. »
{ I don ’ t know what you ’ re talking about, } the demon said indignantly.
*Well it sure wasn ’ t me. *
{ Alright, fine. I admit it. You caught me. *I* threw the drink. }
I couldn ’ t help but wonder why he was being so dramatic, but if either of them heard it they didn ’ t bother replying.
Zamanatopael started to yell at Apaxus, but I cut in.
*Listen guys, I get that you ’ re trying to do your jobs and all but I need to live my life. At this rate, I ’ ll be late for my job. So could you please stop bickering and just… I don ’ t know, hang out in my head and say you did your job? *
« I most certainly can not do that. I am an angel! That would be lying, and lying is one of the Ten Commandments. Breaking that rule is one of the worst offenses, especially when everything needs to remain organized so that things work smoothly. If I lied, who knows that the effects could be? It might throw off the lives of those around you, and create a chain reaction. Who knows how many people could be turned away by Saint Peter in the long run, all because I didn ’ t do my job. I am sorry for any inconvenience, Thomas, but it ’ s for the greater good. »
{ Yeah, sorry buddy. I ’ m gon na have to agree with Zamana-whatever over here. If I lied, who knows who could be positively affected. And besides - this is fun! }
That plan of action had failed. I doubted I would be able to somehow trick them into leaving my head, and they were ignoring my pleas. It looked like I was stuck with them.
*Fine. Just don ’ t cause too much trouble, * I conceded.
{ Whatever you say, boss, } Apaxus scoffed sarcastically.
« Me? Causing trouble? It is against my very nature! » Zamanatopael insisted.
I mentally sighed. This was going to be a long day.
|
[ WP ] All pacts , oaths , and promises made during your childhood are enforced by a newly created government agency , by any means necssary .
| My mind wanders from fantasy to fantasy as my hand moves, back and forth, almost on autopilot. I had been doing this for what seemed like years, even decades now. I had been drifting in a sea of ink and paint since time immemorial. My childhood, by this point, is simply another image inked on fragile papyrus, in a storm of smooth strokes and jagged lines. I had wanted to be like Picasso once. I wanted to pour meaning into those exquisite lines that defined my life. Every blank page had once been a canvas, every wall and every road and street a mirror for my heart. I would look around me and see possibility, adventure, romance. A line here, a stroke there, a splash of color in between, and I would begin imagining the many possibilities of every space in the form of a mural. I had all but set my heart on being an artist.
Then came high school, and my heat had found a new love. Those same lines I would see in streets, along the walls of building, flowing and shifting into grand paintings, presented themselves again. I found them now in the straight edges and sleek curves of machinery, the precision of cold grey steel, and the infinite realm of possibilities that was engineering. I pursued this through high school, college, made a career out of it. This was more than a simple trade for me – this was life, this was art. I was happy, happier than I could have even dreamed of being. Had my trade been a woman, I would have married her in a heartbeat, all those years ago.
Two years ago, elections were held, a new leader brought in. He said he would make our every hope and dream come true. We had no idea he meant it literally.
I was on my way to work, when I found myself tackled to the ground, a bag put over my head, and my limp body tossed into a large van. A long hour later, I found myself tied to a chair, and a machine strapped to my head, and left confused and dazed. I heard a soft purr from the machine, and I wondered how it was doing that. Shock came over me, as I slowly realized what was happening. I was being forced to unlearn everything I had learned since high school. I struggled and cried, screaming as my heart was torn out of me and emptied.
The machine switched gears, and I slowly felt my head being filled again with red and blue, lines and strokes, the old dreams from my childhood. But they felt different, tainted. They were no longer dreams now, but nightmares, the wonders of my life torn and poorly glued back together, looking at me now as something sinister, twisted, as if they were the monsters under my bed all along.
I stopped scribbling, and reflected on the soulless, lifeless eyes I had drawn on the paper before me. I felt nothing as I drew, having left my heart behind on the concrete floor of that room two years ago. The eyes stare back, watching me, coldly judging and disapproving. My hands shake, and return to scribbling. My vision blurs from the tears in my eyes as my hands work furiously, and it isn ’ t until I am finished that I can clear my eyes. I stare back into the eyes on my page, to see my latest handiwork, and I realize I added what looked like chains to the pupils. No, they weren ’ t pupils anymore, they were shackles.
Shackles. My whole body rocks now. Shackles. I am trapped, into this life I don ’ t want, into some twisted facsimile of could haves and maybes. Thrust into a world that is as alien to me now as the lifeless drawings I make. My eyes flit to an exacto knife sitting on my desk, and linger. They eye the cold steel edge of the blade that had yet to be used. Suddenly, its cold gray steel and sharp edges seem almost serene, as if that knife was the safest thing in the world. And in that moment, I knew what I had to do. I stop shaking, and I reach over to the knife. I know what I must do. This is for the best. I know what I want. I fix my eyes once more on the perfectly sharpened edge of the blade, and I lower it, letting it rest against my skin. I know what I want. I know what I want.
I want out.
|
[ WP ] A bald man who lives completely alone suddenly finds hair clogging his shower drain .
| Hmm.
He nudged the clump with his foot.
Yeah, that's definitely hair. Ugh.
He turned off the tap and knelt down. A clump of strands had swirled themselves around the inside of his drain, tendrils waving gently in the draining tub. He glanced down, reminding himself that yes, he had shaved, and no, that's not what this was.
Fucking subletters, he mumbled under his breath. The other floors of his building had been occupied by what seemed like a neverending stream of renters, none of whom stayed longer than 2 or 3 months at a time. After the first few tenants, he had stopped introducing himself. What was the point?
None, clearly, he reasoned, because they were so fucking gross that they let their hair clog up all the drains in the building. Christ. He cursed a few more times, grabbing a tissue and grasping at the mass.
So gross.
With the hair in the trash, he unkinked his limbs and climbed out of the tub.
Jesus!
Some of the hair must have fallen out of the paper when he threw it into the can. He ran his finger along the ledge of the tub, gathering the five or six stragglers and deposited them, almost gagging, into the toilet.
He straightened and gazed at his reflection.
Are you FUCKING serious? A hair, long and black, dangled from the corner of the mirrored cabinet. He seized it and flapped his hand back and forth, trying to shake it off.
Fuming, he reached for the cabinet and flung it open. Masses of dark hair tumbled out. He screamed and jumped back, expecting it to move. After thirty seconds of shallow breathing, he reached over and quickly passed his hand over the mass. Nothing.
Jesus Christ in Heaven.
He used his fingertips to knock his toothbrush into the sink and into the hair. It did n't move. That's when he remembered the date.
Aw Jesus. Fucking Halloween. Every year with this son of a bitch, every year he's got ta outdo himself - he sighed and closed the door of the cabinet, thoroughly relieved but still pissed that his friend insisted on scaring the shit out of him every year.
He grinned at his reflection, planning his revenge. Outside the bathroom, the girl waited.
|
[ WP ] The Earth has been torn into pieces . You have joined up on a program for an expedition to the various pieces of the Earth with signs of life to possibly see your family again .
| `` Are you ready Captain?''
I looked over at the eager young man standing in the doorway. I briefly look him up and down, noting the wide smile on his face and the shiny cleanliness of his power armor. I looked back down at my own weapons and went back to chambering rounds into my rifle.
`` Kid, I told you to stop calling me that. My days in the military were done a long time ago. You can just call me Matt like everybody else.''
`` But you're here are n't you?''
I chuckled to myself and shook my head. `` Kid the only reason I'm here is to find my brother. If I did n't think that Ben was somewhere on these chunks of rock, I would n't have left Mars to come back here.'' With that I turned back to my desk and began cleaning the slide on my pistol, hoping that the boy would go away.
Instead he walked over and sat down by my side. `` What makes you think your brother is here sir?'' I sighed and sat down the pistol before resting my head in my hands.
`` Again, Do n't call me sir. I'm not in your military anymore. He was a Marine fighting in Nigeria during the Third World uprising.''
The boy nodded. `` Wait, then why was he here when the Coalition dropped the bombs?''
I glanced at him and rolled my eyes. `` They do n't teach you much in those Coalition schools do they?''
`` Sir?... I mean, Matt?''
I turned to face him and began to tell him the proclamation that I had memorized. `` Coalition Reports on the Evacuation of U.N. Troops: Operation Axum. January 19, 2454. In response to the growing successes of the Troops of the Third World Confederacy in their war against the soldiers of the United Nations, the Security Council has declared that in order to assure the safety of all people in the United Nations colonies across the Solar System and the other local star clusters, that the Earth be a target of a total war bombing. All soldiers not immediately involved in combat with enemy soldiers are to be immediately evacuated from the planet, any soldiers that are in zones to hot for extraction are to, regrettably, abandoned due to logistical reasons.''
The boy just stared at me in shock, mouth hanging open. `` Sir... That... I...''
I tried my hardest not to laugh at the poor boy. `` Do n't bother soldier.'' I told him as I extended a stack of papers to him. `` I have a copy of it right here, none of this is fake.''
He began reading and after a time he looked up at me in total shock. `` Sir... I...''
`` You do n't need to explain anything to me kid, just get yourself to the dropship. We're due to drop in 30 minutes.'' I told him as I got up and looked at my watch. The boy nodded and hurried off. I watched him go and let a tiny smile cross my face. He was a good kid, if a little annoying at times.
I pushed the thoughts aside and began pulling on my gear. The hardened plasteel armor fit just as well as it had 15 years ago. My helmet still had the scratches on the visor and dents from a few bullets that were too close for comfort. I smiled as I slid it on my head and the HUD lit up. I grabbed my rifle and slid my pistols into their holsters before grabbing the old shotgun that my father had given me and slinging it on my back.
Now ready for action, I made my way to the hanger and joined the other volunteers for this mission by the Dropship. The Commander instructed us to load the craft and strap in for the drop. We did as ordered just like in the old days and just a short two minutes later the doors slide shut. I never liked the next part.
The feeling of going from a ship in orbit to a freefall is never pleasant, especially when you're wearing a helmet you ca n't even get sick in. Luckily for me I handed it before than some of the new kids, a few even passed out and I laughed to myself. As we fell, the Commander began speaking over the radio.
`` Alright boys and girls listen up. We're dropping in on what used to be the East African Republic. We're going to be focusing on the Region that the locals called Nigeria. Specifically, the capital, Abuja. Originally, we believed that our kinetic strikes decimated everything on this planetary chunk but starting in 2456, we began receiving emergency transmissions from a few fire teams of U.N. Marines that somehow survived our bombardment. Secretary-General Yoneda wants us to find our soldiers and bring them home.''
A soldier raised his hand and spoke. `` Sir what if any of the Confederacy's soldiers survived?''
`` Then we kill them. Those savages were never willing to leave the 22nd Century anyway.''
I smirked under my helmet. Old fashioned way was always easier, no prisoners that way.
As the Commander finished the dropship slammed into the ground and the doors flew open. We charged off the ship and secured the area around the ship. The first thing that was noticeable was all the snow. Since the planet broke up, Climate was a thing of the past, everything was messed up. Parts of Africa were cold, parts of Siberia were hot. I felt bad for a few of the rookies who were surprised by this. `` I thought Africa was hot.'' I heard one of them whisper.
`` Hey, stop the talking!'' The Commander barked. `` The signal from the Marines transmitter was coming from about nine Kilometers to the North. Lets go.''
We started making our way North through the outskirts of Abuja toward the city center. We made it the first six kilometers in just over an hour. One of the soldiers stopped and pointed. `` Sir look! The Assembly building!'' The group stopped and looked. Sure enough the dome, or... what was left of it anyway, towered over the rest of the city. The Commander stopped and thought for a second.
`` Hey, Contractor, come here for a second.'' I jogged over, and made my way to his side.
`` Sir?''
`` You fought here during the first war in the 30's right?''
`` Only for a few months sir.''
`` Well that's more than any of us. Take a few men and go check out the Assembly.''
I nodded and turned away toward the assembly. I picked a few soldiers, including the kid to come with me and the six of us set off.
It did n't take us long to make our way to the Assembly's steps. As we were about to start climbing the stairs though, gunfire erupted from the west, where the others had gone. Not so much as a glance at the others and we took off back toward the group. We made our way toward where the shooting but before we got there, a group of Men in primitive camouflage jumped out and surrounded us. They were everywhere, in the buildings, windows, doors, and in the streets and alleys around us.
We raised our hands in surrender and the men began yelling at us in French. I thought to myself, `` So this is how I die... twelve years off fighting, and I die surrounded was my hands in the air.'' I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst.
A few seconds later, I heard the gunshot and I flinched, though I did n't feel the pain of a bullet or the burn of plasma tearing through my armor. I opened my eyes a crack and saw the man who had been in front of us laid dead on the street, bloody, and lifeless. We stared and the men around us panicked.
Suddenly the streets were loud with the gunfire of rifles and the bursts of the newer plasma weapons. The men around us being to fall and we dropped to the ground and began firing our own weapons into the ground. The next few minutes seemed like a blur, but when the dust settled, blood stained the snow, and there were bodies and weapons strewn everywhere. Dozens of the soldiers from the remnants of the Confederacy were dead as well of three of my group. As we stood up and retrieved the bodies of our comrades. A different group of men stepped out of the buildings wearing modern power armor.
Remove your helmets, Identify yourselves. We did as ordered. `` Calm down son'' I spoke up. `` We're with the United Nations, We're here to rescue your men.'' I put my helmet under my arm and the man lowered his gun.
`` Really? They came for us?'' I nodded in response. `` And the other group? They're U.N. too?'' I nodded again. `` They were attacked too. But we managed to help them beat back the attack before too many of them were killed.''
`` That's good, can you get your men to they co-ordinates?'' I asked as I handed him a data pad with the landing zones position.
`` Yes sir. I can do that, all our forces left will make our way there by tomorrow.''
`` Good, we have dropships waiting there for you.''
The man removed his own helmet. `` Thank you... Sir''.
I smiled and shook my head. `` Oh no, I'm not a soldier anymore. I'm just a contractor. I'm trying to find my...''
`` Matt!?'' I spun around toward the familiar voice, a grin on my face.
`` Ben!?''
|
[ WP ] : Humanity encounters intelligent and socially-advanced , but tiny and grub-like aliens thriving on a system of lush planets . To cleanse these worlds of the `` grubs '' and prepare them for human habitation , our leaders decide to release earth fauna as a form of biological warfare .
| They sent the star-lings first. It was in contravention of paragraph five of the environmental diversity preservation treaty, of course, and people were up in arms, but like many others, I did n't see what the big deal was. The giants should be allowed some home comforts, right?
And then I saw the true horror of the creatures. The black winged death from outer space.
I was sojourning with my wife in the gardens of Second East City when we saw one pass overhead.
My wife looked up, her pinaculum strained over her swollen abdominal segments.
`` Oh,'' she said, gesturing with her thoracic prolegs. `` It's iridescent; how beautiful.''
I followed her gaze, fool that I was, and I saw the majesty of the creature, its wings as wide as twenty of me, at once black and multispectrum, its beak fiercely sharp, eyes black as deepest space.
`` It's coming towards us,'' my wife murmured in wonderment.
I touched her thoracic segment gently. `` Maybe we should seek shelter,'' I said.
And then it was upon us. Majestic from afar, up close the thing reeked of carrion, its claws curved and cruel. Its beak came between us, snatching my wife by the head and bearing her aloft.
I heard her scream my name as it devoured her, and I watched from the ground, impotent, and helpless.
I have watched many people die the same way since.
When I returned, there were a multitude of the creatures over Second East City. I believe the giants term them `` a cloud''.
A cloud of starlings. A cloud of death. I can barely begin to describe the atrocities I witnessed that day.
At first I was numb with pain, but when I found feeling within myself again, it was nothing but rage.
To those of you that still believe the giants' excuses and lies, I say this; you are blind. This is war. The starlings were a calculated act of warfare.
The humans killed my wife. They killed my family. And if you do not join with me and fight, they will surely kill you.
|
[ WP ] you find three monkey statues in front of you one must be touched , beside them a note `` see no evil , hear no evil , speak no evil . ''
| The man dragged the racist down the stairs by his arm. He moaned on each step he hit. There was a door at the bottom of the staircase halfway open. The man dragged him through it and sat him roughly in a chair. There was a table with three of those monkey cymbal toys wound up and really going to town. This was directly in front of the two of them.
The man began to come around. Through his blurry vision, he swore he could see the monkeys walking around. Was he hallucinating? He thought he could hear them chattering. Was he losing his mind?
The man who had brought him down here now pointed at them with a gun. `` Choose'' he said. The racist touched the first one. The man slapped the back of his head. `` Try again.'' The racist touched the last one. He got slapped again.
Finally, the racist touched the second one. The man said `` Good Choice'' as he started walking away and shut the door behind him. The monkey the racist chose last jumped off the table onto him and clanged it's cymbals together on his ears repeatedly as it bit his tongue from his mouth. The man who had bought him down there smiled and walked away while hearing the screaming and cymbals from inside the room.
|
[ WP ] Humanity 's last act before total destruction by an alien race was force-evolving and genetically 'perfecting ' a number of common animal species . 5000 years later , they board starships and fly for the alien 's homeworld to avenge the death of their `` Gods '' : Humanity .
| > UPDATE: Part 10, 11, and 12 are on the [ Mammalian ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/Mammalians/ ) Subreddit created so I could keep writing... 40k and what not.
> PART 13 FINALLY is UP!
> Thank you boot_made4_Walken for the prompt!.
Part 1
He kept his head bowed.
Farther than he ever had before. His snout almost touched the floor of the chapel. In the silence, the Commander and Leader of this Holy fleet, tasked to carry out the very meaning of their creation, whimpered before the Gods. Fear was natural, fear was life sustaining. But the impulse to run, now more than ever, gripped the very heart of this Mountain of Novawolf.
He asked for wisdom, he begged for courage and most of all, he implored The Ones Who Set us Free to guide his hands. It was they who had breathed the very thought into his mind.
They had brought all that exists into being.
And the Alpha whimpered, for he could never repay them.
In Their' sacrifice, they had granted E'rth a second chance.
A chance to right wrongs, to learn from mistakes.
How could the gift of life be re-payed?
Then the old wolf opened his eye, lifted his head and looked at the altar. He used one mighty armored gauntlet to push himself up from his knee.
The fear was gone, the thoughts began to clear. The Alpha's eyes focused in a primal stare as a new emotion began to stir beneath his breastplate.
A chance for revenge.
`` My Alpha, the Armada is arranging as planned. sectors 23 and 26 have experienced some difficulty with coordination of the jump, but this is primarily due to disrupted communications fields thanks to the spearhead jumps. They should sort out.''
`` Thank you Cora. Anything else I should know?'' The Alpha looked ahead from his command chair, blankly scanning the varied crew of mammals that ran this craft. His assistant, a distant kin of a feline breed from the past, looked very assured.
`` No, my Alpha, we all await the command to go.'' There was a sparkle of youth behind this female, youth that did not know the fight ahead.
`` Before we go, I would like to speak with the fleet, personally. Open all channels.''
With the arrangements made, the Alpha began.
`` Mammalia, E'rth dwellers, brothers....'' The Alpha found the words.
`` This journey we are about to undertake is older than any of our civilizations can claim. We do not carry the torch of one mammal or one breed or one species or one nation. We carry a torch passed by those who taught us how to catch it. WE were mindless beasts, once. Our instinct dominated our lives, our bodies slaves to the impulses, nothing else. There was no consideration of the future, or of lessons learned. No hope. Then the Ones Who Set us Free performed the miracles that have allowed every single one of you to be here, listening to my voice and COMPREHENDING it just now. Humanity granted us freedom from the bonds of Nature, Freedom from the restrains of Evolution. We have been set free. Then, They preserved their knowledge, their understanding and their wisdom so that WE humble creature could follow in their magnificent footsteps. And Follow we have.''
`` With this knowledge, however, came warning of how Humanity came to its end. THEY WARNED US OF THE ENEMY. They showed us how our world was before the reaping. They lamented they could not give us a greater world to grow on. They sacrificed themselves so that WE could continue!'' The force in that last sentence brought up a cheer from the entire ship. NovaPrimates, NovaFelines, NovaCanines, NovaMarsupials and many other species all let out the roar of their people. The noise was tremendous, like an entire planet shouting in chorus.
`` THINK of the lives we could have had on an unscathed planet. Think of the ruin our ancestors had to sift through to gain anything. Think of the planet denied to us by an Enemy who's one purpose is to take. AND most of ALL, remember Those who brought you here. Humanity once held the mantle of protector of E'rth. That mantle was ripped from Them, but not before They guaranteed our ability to survive on the world that was left behind. We will not allow their legacy to be lost, that mantle falls to us now. Centuries ago, the Enemy came from the heavens to destroy and take all they could. But now we will come to their homes, take what is theirs and remind them of the devastation they have wrought! The Enemy will tremble at humanities answer, and We will see that that Answer is Brutal. We are Humanities children, and we will see the retribution for our Fathers.''
With that the Alpha lowered the sound bead from his mouth and looked around the command floor. Crewman were either in ecstasy, cheering as loud as their lungs would allow, or silent, in aw of the momentous burden they had.
Good, they would need to be ready in their own ways. The Alpha then looked at Cora and pointed with one huge paw.
`` I believe we are ready.''
`` I believe we are, my Alpha.''
`` Then tell the fleet we jump now, and may Humanities hands be around us, as they always have.''
EDIT: Part 2
`` And we will see retribution for our Fathers...'' click...
`` I ca n't believe this is happening! Jor! Can you believe this is happening!'' The young ape was wild, jumping and pounding on his chest.
`` We are the ones! My father talked of this day! And his father! and his father! The generations that have dreamed of this day! WE ARE THE ONES!''
The ape coo'ed into the air and chirped in the delight he had in himself. There was no stopping him or the other youths on in the fleet from rejoicing. Perhaps it had been the elders fault, filling their head with the stories of Them. Some of it was lent to inexperience in general. Jor was not given to such simple instincts. The NovaSwine had fought in the Decision wars and the Bringing Together. These wars had been deadly stalemates that cost every side dearly in mammals and resources, each with the victor claiming spoils over trashed world. Half the moons in the solar system had destabilized from Storm bombing and would take at least a century to re-form the atmospheres. All the souls lost. All so that minds could be made up. Those wars had brought together all creeds, laid waste to walls and borders. Finally, all of Mammalia brought under one ideology.
The pork snorted to himself. One trot through the feed hall of this hulk would show that had n't happened.
You can tell mammals to lie down, but you ca n't make them shut their mouths. Jor had earned three bars and an addition to his families plot on Callisto. At least the algae stock grew. Jor then sighed and stood up, flaring his nostrils and snorting hard to get the young apprentice's attention. The ape paused mid-pumping his arms in the air and looked.
`` Sorry, Kappa, I just got carried away after the Alpha's speech.''
`` Primate, that speech got exactly what he wanted out of you. Exhalation. I understand the implications of our given mission, I have carried the weight of Their gift just as much as you have. BUT do n't for a second think I will let fervor and instinct take over my pack, you understand me Brondon?''
The ape began to droop, a noticeable hunch began to play on his shoulder.
`` Do as the Alpha said, think about the Enemy. Think about whats about to happen there. This is the species that wiped out HUMANITY. All of it. They themselves could n't withstand whatever is on the other side of the shift gate.''
This had not apparently occurred to the mammal. His shoulders hung even lower.
`` Well I'm sorry Kappa, there is just so much pride in my veins right now. It'll calm down, I'm ready you know.''
`` I do n't need you calm, Brondon, I need you alert. When our boat drops, we are going into the unknown. I need you to be able to see what I ca n't. You can understand me?''
`` I can understand you. I will be at my best. Everything is counting on it. ``
`` Good, that is the way I want it.''
`` ALERT, ALERT ALL CREW, temporal shift in 1 current minute. All hands please enact last departure procedures and hold for shift impact.'' The lights flashed. The buzzer came one.
Neither of the mammals talked as they rushed to their stations, tidying up odd bits and sealing any loose time sensitive items in protective containers. Then they sat in their chairs and breathed in deeply, preparing for the next unpleasant step they had ahead of them. Jor looked at his primate apprentice pilot, the kid looked more composed than before, more aware.
`` I believe you now, I can smell the stress.''
`` I told you, focus and alert from here on out... Also Jor, er, Kappa?''
`` Yes?''
`` Can you use Bron? Not Brondon? My mother was old fashioned and gave me the name. She said it was one of the most popular names among Them. I think is sounds ridiculous.''
The pig snorted in amusement and then leaned his head back against his chair with his eyes tightly closed. His hooves clenched tightly under his crossed arms.
He always hated this part.
EDIT: PART 3
`` Father, is that the fleet? Those lights flashing?''
`` Yes dear one, that is the fleet. They are shifting time streams now''
`` And fathers-brother Jor is with them?'' The little novaswine pulled on her fathers fur in excitement as she sat on his broad shoulders. She stared up at the start in delight, intently hoping to see the flashes of the ships of the Holy Armada
`` Yes, Jor is up there alright. He has to be.''
`` Because he's a hero!''
`` Well, I would n't say that.''
`` Y'hUh! Mother was telling me how he held back an entire herd of elk rangers with only his wits and his boat!''
`` A whole herd? Now that seems a bit far fetched.''
`` And now mother says he is going to fly out and take on the Enemy and blow them all to little pieces!'' The excited piglet squealed, then made tiny explosion impressions set to the pantomimed star craft she had made with her hands.
`` What your fathers-brother Jor is doing is far more important than that, Pep.''
`` O I know! And They will finally feel Peace! We are attacking the Enemy to make it pay for what happened to Them right!?''
`` Well, that is true... but its even more important than that.''
`` But father, what is more important than avenging The Ones Who Set us Free's extinction?''
`` Making sure it does n't happen again, dear one.''
EDIT PART 4
The shift allowed the ships to move around the limitations of the physical universe, another blessing from the Gods. This ships could then travel past the speed of light, unbound by the laws of space-time as they set their own course through the dimensions.
Then, using the massive energies required and released to accomplish this shift, the gates the fleet had set up spat these ships into the nothing of space. The acceleration was n't felt by the crew, instead time appeared to be passing drastically slower as their 3 dimensional minds tried to process the different rate of time reality was presenting itself in.
The ships crews all froze in their positions, petrified in torn space. The hull rattled and shook as it strained to assert itself in this new field, soon this rattling stopped as the inversers and retrained metals begin to adjust.
An almost comical scene started unfolds as those who did not get to their positions on time, or were caught in an uncomfortable spot, were forced to watch themselves frozen in time, unable to do anything about it. Some looked in horror at the potential fall they could take in the realignment. Most were embarrassed to be caught with the toe up the snout.
The Alpha had rested into a thoughtful position, both massive paws pressed under his jaw, his blue eyes fixed on the mini-projection he had pulled up at the last second. It was a tactical map of the scouting reports on the Enemy's systems. This massive novawolf played out battles and sequences in his head. He imagined all typed of weaponry and abilities. Every top scholar in the Solar had proposed any possible outcome based off of Their' warnings. There was no reality not thought of. Nothing would catch him off guard. His duty, to his clan and to all of Mammalia, was to ensure these demons would never threaten E'rth again. And he would not fail in this task. The Alpha tapped his hunters instinct and, in his mind, formed the destruction of the greatest threat ever known.
Jor had his eyes closed. He preferred it that way. It allowed him to sleep if he wanted, but it also gave him time to think un-distracted. Jor had been through to many jumps to know that a stray glance caught in the shift can be a lifetime of hell in your head. No... Jor would enjoy his thoughts of home, his blank canvas to his mind.
The rest of the fleet ran about their own internal processes. The shift granted them a good time of thought, not by choice of course. Some prayed to the Ones That Set them Free. Others thought about the lives they had left behind, the dens and dwellings with loved ones inside them.
These thoughts carried with them.
Until time came back to life.
EDIT: PART 5 GOLD!?! AND TIPS!?! Jeez you people, your making me blush. Guess I got ta keep writing now.
The first thing you notice is the moisture in the air. The ship finally gets a chance to breath again. Then as this breathe fills the room, time races back into place. The Holy Armada slammed back into existence, purging an entire body of space in pure energy and the replacing it with its ships. Inside the crews jolted in and from various locations, all of them groaned a sigh of relief from the voyage. The ships came back to the void. This was still the open space. And There was still eons between them and their targets.
Before the Alpha and all those on the command bridge, however, read-outs and new intelligence was right in from of their snouts.
Cora eyes twitched at an no particular part int he command bridge's ceiling, her implants already receiving channels from the spearhead attack force that had been led by Gamma Tarus himself. The retired Gamma commander, a legend among the novarilla, had volunteered to lead the first assault wave. He had considered it the greatest honor bestowed to him when his wish was granted. In private, Gamma Tarus had confided in her that he fully expected to die, but he preferred battle over old age if given the choice.
To Cora it appeared, although these statistics on her retinas were un-duplicated, the grayback had gotten his licks. She snapped back into focus. In one unbroken sentence, she began.
`` MY ALPHA! Reports coming in. Gamma Tarus initial attack forces are engaged heavily in the sectors Justice, Righteous and Fury, all forces have taken 67 percent fatal and critical damage to main strafers and loop fighters. Lights personal have been deployed sparingly. Recommend initiative Blessed Absolution as the most effective, with slight tweaks, strategem given the current emergent reports. Will Accommodating. High-Arks are holding stable, but unable to advance due to opposing forces intensive barrages on assault crews. Several requests for Life-Ark runs to for hemorrhaged crews. Accommodating. Alpha, the Enemy is employing many different weaponry, though high-mass photon waves seems to compose the bulk of their their main defensive fire. Well within shielding parameters'' Cora finished her line and stared intently at the Alpha.
`` Accommodating... Done... Waiting.''
`` Cora, next response, full analysis of individual ship locations. I want a full trajectory statistic and a propulsions summary to understand what I can and ca n't salvage from the spearhead.''
Cora's eyes darted back into the air as new neuro-pathways opened up, processing different feeds of information.
The Alpha spoke orders as the novafeline enveloped herself in her task.
The projections flashing around the bridge told a complex story.
On one hand, the spearhead force had not been wiped out, as previously expected. This news lent problems and blessings to the Alpha's plan. The blessings were of course a pre-engaged Enemy to prey on and the chance to commit more mammals to the fight.
But now the Alpha's overwhelming sense of duty plagued him.
`` All fleet, this is the Alpha, prepare advance initiative Blessed Absolution, all mammal, prepare your stations. Break off from main group in 3 and engage on all fronts. The spearhead has done its job gentlemals and I do n't intend to leave a hair behind that I do n't have to. This is why were are here.''
The Alpha then turned to his bridge and barked his own forces directives, setting lock coordinates and trajectory patterns. The commander was able to rapidly split his fleet into four distinct quarters, each with their own task and suitability. Task forces Righteous and Justice split from the main group while the reserves held the jump zones. The Alpha had whispered short blessings to their cause, then, given the breakaway signals, the respective Gamma and Delta leaders and their crews carried off.
Fury would be the task of the the main force, the Alpha would see to it personally. Righteous and Justice were important objectives, but the real goal had always been sector Fury. Fury contained their home world. Fury was the most heavily defended. Fury contained the strategic moons and planets needs to cut off the Enemy's supplies. Fury would be the jewel. As Cora began to ramble through the latest bit of intel that had been requested, the Alpha flared his teeth in joy at the engagement beacons beginning to propagate in his vision.
This was exactly how some scholars had warned him. Even down to some of the emplacement formations. He was ready, the Alpha was confident. With the fleet each having their jobs, the Alpha's task force navigated from the herd. Fury was the objective.
Fury would be the break through point.
`` I will break them over my knee''
PART 6:
`` WELL THEN PULL THE STENCHING MANUAL RELEASE APE! HUMAN HANDS HELP ME! I GET THIS AT MUNCH TIME!''
`` I'M sorry KAPPA! Releasing manual now. Electrolocks releasing, shes down the shoot... apologies Kappa.''
The strafer cracked from its stasis on top of the hull of the monstrous Alpha-Ark. The craft was nothing but a blip cascading down the side of the command vessel. It rode its magnetic rails towards the jump portals that were beginning to come into existence below the ship. Each portal led to a specific point. Each ships jumped from its nest and road the fall into the flash of the unknown. Protective paneling all over the ship began to shift and realign. Some floated into positions protecting the craft leaving for the portals, just in case. Others simply moved to allow the Alpha-Arks devastating arsenal to stretch after its stasis slumber.
`` You said you were ready young one. That's not the way to show it.''
`` I can understand! I'm just... In Learners the sims never failed past backup 4...'' The ape wore shame like it was the uniform around him.
`` This is n't the sims. Shes an old boat, Xi Bron. She like things done with your palms. Just get used to it.'' The pork settles into his chair, rapping a couple buttons before picking up a set of goggles without straps or lens. As soon as the Kappa set the visual system on his face, the goggles adhered and mini projections of the ships schematics and tactical read began to pop in and out at different depths in his vision. The novaswine had learned to filter most of this out and his eyes only twitch when something truly worth his notice caught his attention.
His apprentice's look had one of bewilderment. His pupils nearly matched his heart rate while they loosened and tightened as the noveape tried in vain to take in everything.
This was another problem with the Learners sims. They never dream big enough. This novice has never seen this much chatter. I bet this ape is trying to keep his eye on intake drafts and micro-fracture potentials. Being taught to take in everything was useless. Only take what you need from it.
`` XI, turn off open channels, link only directly to Fury commands and localized parameter 17. Do n't take it all in, you'll blind yourself.
Focus on what matters to you and the objectives. Contact Lambdas Ban and Reytaw and send them our greeting. Its our pack on their backs when things get toothy, alright? I'm going to need fire points as soon as we flash.''
`` I can understand. Setting speculations now. Open feed off....THEIR HANDS that is better. Much better. Thank you, Kappa.'' Comprehension took hold.
`` And it would n't hurt anybody to turn your schematic readings down to alert status. Shes an old boat, but it means she knows what shes doing. I'm a little offended actually.'' The Pork joked. This little relief before the portal was something the young Xi needed. This was his first taste, his chance to get some scars. There would n't be time for him to learn. Only do.
`` Hail Them, HAIL THEM! for I have JOR HAMMER as my guardian man! This is Lambda Reytaw and may I just say it is an honor, Kappa, an honor to be paired with you again, and on this mission of all. Flash parameters 17 up, my units are ready to roll, all that is needed is a door.''
`` Kappa Jor, this is Ban. How that stenchpile holding up?''
Jor snorted his angered approval. `` Better than that pristine palace, you traitor.''
`` Jor, you are the only one in the fleet who can make a class FDR stay afloat for more than five ticks. I've tried, boar, you know I have.
AND this palace has individual climate bubbles and negative balance seating, so whatever point your to make is moot. At least I'll die comfortable.''
`` I do n't need this from you! and you know I have that vibro pad under the upholstery. AND the Caff maker. Not many strafes get them.''
`` OH, I've been in your ship, Kappa.''
`` Point taken. Alright listen up, I intended to clear a big hole in space, so you lot better get through fast before something seals up again. That means you Reytaw, your window is 4 seconds. Specified settings will stream as soon as we know them for sure. Assume anything, I want full communication between everyone. Ban, your loops are on perimeter until I get the door opened, then its escort for the rangers, you can understand?''
`` Clearly'' Reported Lambda Ban
`` Perfectly'' answered Lambda Reytaw
`` Kappa, we are up.'' The apprentice was setting and moving little light rays projected before him, making the correct sequences so that the strafer would follow the Kappa's every command. The pork himself simply stared forward at the ambiguous portal before him. Jor hated shifting, but atleast when he took the Fall he could watch it coming. The rush filled his stomach. The thrill tensed his haunches
The smile crept into his jowls.
Who was I fooling?
I'd missed this.
EDIT PART 7
Tarus was furious. The silver backed warrior was pounding his chest, roaring orders for synthetics and mammals to flash too and from a myriad of points on the battlefield. Strafers dropped their symphonies, plowing swaths into the emplacements and firing positions of the Enemy. Loopers zipped like hornets, harassing any enemy craft who dared break from their ranks or ventured to fill a threatening gap. This foe was smart, however, and their structures were durable.
The Enemy's first line of defense were fields that encompassed the asteroid belts of their controlled system. Most systems in the galaxy that were old enough to harbor life were old enough to have a diverse collection of captured passers by. These layers of rocks to small to become proper planets hover at whatever gravitational distances the parent star had deemed appropriate. These asteroids, the perfect hiding places, allowed for all sorts of generators and inducers to be put into the fray.
Hundreds, Thousands, Maybe Millions.
The Gamma slammed his large golden inked fist down. The tattoos showed serpents and leafed tree branches, etched in layered gold that glinted with a hint of the planet it was mined from. The work stretched up under his onyx armor, around his shoulder, up his neck and down his back and chest. His fur covered most of it above his hands, but with each movement brilliant trees and snakes danced on the surface of his soot colored skin. The effect was memorizing to the viewer, but it had a deeper meaning to the mural. It represented 200 years of lessons and strife. Each branch a step forward, each leaf a youth reared. Each serpent a time of conflict.
The hide-smith would be buying the rounds for a while after this.
The old novarilla bared one long tooth in disgust.
Things in sector Justice were a 4 layered affair.
The outer rings had been youths' play, the Enemy was caught unawares by the surprise assault by an unknown force. By second layer, this was not the case. The Enemy had many ships to respond to the breach of the outer layer, and by this time whoever their commanders were had to be fully aware of the scale of the assault. This meant the reaction had been swifter when the Justice force of the Spearhead met the next blockade to their goal. The lines immediately had shifted, the shielding was not focused on the specific direct points Tarus was attempting to make a hole. This meant the strategy of crack and pour was rendered useless, because there was no crack. To beat the second layer, the Gamma had spread his units out like a web, each trying to make a micro-breakthrough somewhere and move around the initial defenses to assist the others still trying to smash. His second in command had said it was akin to insects harvesting fruit one section at a time. Tarus was inclined to agree. This tactic, however slow, had worked, eventually allowing a breach large enough to be sustained and the rally set through it.
But now the enemy had adjusted again. There would be no easy way in.
`` REGRID. I WANT THIS ENTIRE PARAMETER REDONE. Factor all new intel, please. THEIRS HANDS THIS IS LIKE LEARNERS SCHOOL!''
And in a way the Gamma was right. The Mammalian shielding, especially on the Ark ships, was more than capable of taking whatever the enemy seemed to have. The loopers and strafers and some other mid-class ships were more susceptible, but most of those were n't of much use at this point any matter. Spearhead Justice had instead taken to barraging huge areas of emplacements and asteroids with every weapon available. This barrage would accomplish the expected nothing, the Arks took an absurd amounts of readings from the impacts. All in an attempt to grid possible new emplacements based off refraction readings and a dozen other calculations that only neuro-nets and scholars knew what to do with.
All the old Gamma could do now was watch as barrage after barrage fazed harmlessly off the ruthlessly efficient steps the Enemy had taken to ensure none would pass. And after each barrage, all he could do was order a regridding and watch as another salvo simply gave the scientists more to buzz about. He swore they almost enjoyed it.
And so this Gamma was forced to repeat his lessons, over and over, like a youth in his first cycle at Learners. The Arks reverberated as their' payloads all released at once, something that most moons, much less defensive fields, could n't take. And yet before the ionization died down and the very fabric of space righted itself from such a massive bombardment, Tarus, knew what the result would be.
`` Not critical effect Gamma. We are receiving readings indicating new locations for possible Enemy generators. Waiting.'' Again, this young apprentice scholar looks to enthused.
`` STENCHING BOWL FILTH. Well what do you think we are going to do... REG...''
`` GAMMA! APOLOGIES, but we have received confirmation, the Alpha is here!''
The behemoth erupted in laughter, hardly containing his bodily fluids much less his composure. He bellowed and coo'ed, only stopping every so often to let his diaphragm recover. The entire command bridge was staring at their Gamma, wondering if the elder had finally lost his mind in the monotony. Through the tears, the Gamma was able to rumble out.
`` GRADUATION!''
`` Gamma Tarus? I do n't understand.''
`` WHAT?! NOTHING! Nothing! just... never the mind... REGRID!''
The bridge went back to its work.
And the lone tooth soon was joined by the rest.
PART 8
`` I think its appalling.''
`` I can understand you correctly?''
`` Absolutely, I say again I think it is appalling''
`` Please, Beta Striyo-ey, elaborate on your statement. The question was in your opinion, will the Holy Armada's success bring peace or is this just a sign for a greater calling? Your answer, as stands, is that you find something... appalling?''
The hundreds of visual receivers, all streaming to a different city in the Solar, all drifted to rest their gaze on the Beta. This was Beta Striyo-ey, First among the Novaline and all those that had allegiance to their kind. His fur was a mangled mess of color. Streaks of fiery red were overlapped by dark blacks and smooth blond patches. Even his eyes were mismatched, one being a traditional amber yellow and the other being a deep almost ocean green. Wrapped in a long grey robe with no impressive embroidery and no medallion, the Beta's personal appearance, title and experience was all he needed to possess gravity.
Indeed when he spoke, all that were born in the room were drawn to him.
`` I think its appalling that we assume this Armada will bring anything.''
The slender cat leaned forward, suggesting complete committal to his words.
`` This war... this crusade... Is something that Mammalia as a whole, I am not just talking of novadae here, as a whole, you can understand?... Has wanted. Now..now the intent is there. The idea behind it is completely digestible. What is appalling, Tau Yu Set, is the complete gut instinct that is being thrown into the procedure of this undertaking. There has been, what, 6 years since the last major engagement with a neighbor. Our economic outlook, now more than ever, has been disparaged thanks to mainly isolationists ideals allowed to propagate under the justification of zeal. We have learned... so much from what They had left for us. Indeed we owe our standing not on this planet or system but on the galactic scale, to the knowledge and understanding given to us by Them. To even dream where we would be as species if we had spent the last five millennia simply taking the steps to build the groundwork of the wisdom that was left for us to find. All major Sociological, Technological...'' The novaline maintained eye contact but counted on his claws for affect''.. Astronomical, Political, Environmental, and Scientific developments of our major civilizations has come from this knowledge. And those are a small example of the overall impact the have had on our lives up unto this point.''
The Beta pointed his index finger down to the ground, signifying hypothetical point,
`` This point... I believe... has been crossed. I believe that through our own scientific and archaeological breakthroughs, our relationships with the species from the stars and our better understanding...'' He paused, fist clenched just below his mouth, `` Of who we as mammals and our place in this galaxy.''
He then opened his hand and spread his fingers out, palm up. His claws stretched out, his fir hung down. The gesture looked more like a spider than a galaxy. But the message was understood. He continued.
`` With this understanding, we have gained the knowledge that Stractlifyeen...'' Some members crew and the host were visibly uncomfortable with that word.
`` Yes, I used the word Stractlifyeen. They were never able to put a word to Their Enemy. They never got the chance to. Can we be shocked about the fact that through trade, diplomacy and treaty agreements, pouring over allies records and historical documents... along with heavily invested studies at top Learners I might add, we were able to not only attain the location of the assailant that was able to so brutally destroy our creators, but we were able to learn something about them as well? Its almost more shocking the reaction i get to using the given standard name for our once unnamed `` Enemy''. But this just further proves my point. We have lost ourselves in instinct. We have let ourselves become so wrapped up in what we owe to Them I honestly believe we have lost the ideals of what They intended for us. The Trillions in count alone spent on the fleet...''
`` Though I would, Beta Striyo-ey, point that this huge some was taken almost entirely from private donations and sponsors. Indicating a huge amount of overall support for the Alpha's leadership.'' The novalion seemed happy with himself, having cut off the Beta's speech. The hit was valid though.
`` Well true, but...'' Cut off again. This time the put up out his paw.
`` And there are many who would say that you, Beta Striyo-ey, have fallen to jealous instincts? You are considered a Beta without equal, if it were n't for the Alpha...'' A look of implication followed this, as if by some measure the Beta should have to explain himself to a room of a dozen mammals a hundreds of visual receivers.
Striyo-ey was annoyed by this sentiment, but he did not show it. He could understand this mammals job was to be the voice of mammalia, and that voice had many opinions. However ridiculous. Though the showassing for the sake of telenet drama was n't much to respect either.
`` We have... for the first time in 500 years, an Alpha. I still remember a time when the council of Betas existed, when we all... All my fellow Betas, could have claimed the right.... The Alpha Fi...'' This time the cat stopped himself. He could name the Enemy. But to refer the Alpha as anything but was... beyond thinkable. Regardless of who he was before.
`` Solidified all we had worked for. We have seen, under his leadership, not only the longest stretch of peace in inter mammalian history, but a steady rise in the overall economic stability of this fledgling... I'll say this word too..empire.''
`` Forgive me Beta, but you've made long diatribes into our past and successfully endorsed the Alpha, but what I fail to see what is appalling then about taking the fight to the greatest threat Mammalia has ever known. Surely you, one not given to such religious aspect, can appreciate the well reasoned argument that they still pose a threat to planet E'rth, and indeed every species.''
This host was getting aggressive now. This was less talking head more personal conviction. Fine.
`` We do n't know that... We do n't, still do n't and have no way of knowing, that. The Stractlifyeen represent an enigma, a blot in the history of over 200 different species, both from E'rth and from other systems. Each encounter tells many stories and many different outcomes. Some not in the genocide as They underwent, but all just as destructive. If there is one thing that can taken from the records, its that the Stractlifyeen came when a species was most susceptible, when they were already on their backs. Somehow, a species would be faced with hardship after years, decades maybe centuries of abundance. And just as soon as this hardship would seem to end all that could be, the Stractlifyeen are proven to arrive to prey on the weak on helpless. This Enemy... is a plague. One that waits until its victim is plump and ready before its feast...
What is appalling is that 4,000 ships and over 4 million of mammalia's finest, our white blood cells, have left the body to fight a disease for its father.'' The Beta let the metaphor sink in. With every second of pause the implications did.
`` Lets just hope whats left is enough to fight an infection.''
PART 9:
There is no greater rush than the sensation of charging head first into oblivion. The sensation release and sheer terror battled inside of every being under the Alpha's personal command as they buzzed about their work. All the Alpha could do was watch. His plan was in motion. His orders had been given then refined down the ranks, so thoroughly it was as if there was a task for every single cell circuit he had at his disposal. Everyone had a job. So all the old wold could do was wait for his mammals to do them.
Omnicrons and xis darted from starboard to port, assisting their given tutor in any way they could. These duty usually included everything from grooming and dressing their Learner, to fetching food and running simple errands around the ship. In the heat of battle, however, it was all business. Peons scrambled to deliver beam-files, parts, charge-packs and all different sorts of kits. Each had to be delivered quickly, for it all served a part in the plan. And each apprentice knew this, because their feet barely touched the ground as they walked.
The Alpha could feel the tension. His grey mane began to stand up. This made the lord commander raise an astonished brow. Forget stoicism, he had genuinely assumed that old age, scarring and armor rash had drained those follicle's will years ago. It reminded him of his youth, when in the heat of battle his glorious black mane would stand so high it had given him the appearance of monster in the littertales. Back then his armor could hardly contain it. Often he was mistaken for one of the novaurs. These old bones had been a sight to behold.
But it seems this fight was bringing back the youth in him.
Fury's spearhead had been extremely light. Even with the low odds of survival of the initial assault, this particular force was given the order to retreat if necessary and await till the Armada arrived. They had not. No matter. Either outcome, the intent of the attack was to make it appear that the massive defensive structures and countless countermeasures had intimidated whoever dared assault them.
The Enemy's ships were a cream white. They gleamed with an almost ceramic looking material. There were no markings on these craft. No discernible difference in design either. They all seemed to simply work according to the need. All of them were no bigger than a mammalian strafer, hardly a spec compared to the Ark ships the Alpha's relief had streaking into battle. Their combined firepower and their aggressive shielding tactics, however, were something to be reckoned with. Without hesitation, every Enemy unit available could immediately start unleashing relentless particle and wave weaponry at a new target. It was as if their generals could telepathically change their troops interests by the nature of their own will. Without hesitation, scores of Enemy vessels could render even the mightiest opponent imp.
And strategy apparently did not burden those in more personal engagements. While also being nimble and alert, the Enemy's ships were capable of multiple vectors of fire regardless of orientation. It was as if a new onslaught could simply appear from the abominations at whenever they were inclined. If the reports were to be believed, one pilot in the forward swears he counted 8 different fire points, all on different axis and at different targets, with his own eyes. This was after he had sworn of the readings coming in to be... unreliable.
So. This Enemy could bite. And it was clever. With every gain, new combatants would enter the parameters and begin projecting complex arrays of fields, giving their brothers valuable time to relocate and sealing a vast quantity of space in the mean. Any initiative had to be abusively exploited. These, and an endless amount of other reasons were why the initial contact in Sector Fury was so manageable. They could only do this right, once.
And when the Alpha struck, he wanted his prey lulled into complacency. It seemed to have worked. The response to the vanguard had just enough to keep it a healthy distance from anything of value. The Delta who led this meager force was caught in his own games now, constantly attacking, only to be beaten back, then regroup and duel again.
The Alpha's wave would remedy this.
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[ WP ] convince me of what an awful thing humanity is , through a sad story
| Thomas Strinner, a middle class father in Reno Nevada wakes up every monday through friday at 6:30am. Every week, month, year and decade. He starts his morning by heading to the local gym. Where he engages in small chit chat with the young and beautiful trainer Zoe. 4 days out of the week, doing cardio and light weights for an hour. Before heading to drive the kids to school. At around 8am after cooking breakfast, showering and getting dressed he gets in the car and starts his ride. 2 girls at an all girl school, and his son who just started elementary. This car journey is taken from monday through friday. Every week, every month and every year. Now at 8:45 he has to drive on the highway to just barely make it to work at 9am. A job he only imagined a high school diploma may get you, but to his surprise, and this economy his college degree will have to do. 50,000 dollars in debt, to get a 45,000 dollar paying job. Maybe one day he will get that raise and make 47,000. After work he heads home to find his wife too busy to talk, and dinner lonely and shallow. Complimented by the empty 82 dollar bottle of wine, charged to his credit card by the love of his life, Katherine. Katherine 42, enjoys spending money, drinking, sleeping with the neighbor and talking with her sisters about Thomas's shortcomings. This goes on, everyday, every week, every month and year. But what of the future? there's no more social security, so Thomas will have to work until he is 75 if lucky. In a state where the average life expectancy is 76.7 for a white male. Where his only vacation is to visit his step parents. Who still want their daughter find another man! Every year, every decade until they, or Thomas dies. Thomas has no real money saved, that his wife has not yet spent. No more dreams and no more hope. But today is different. Its sunday morning and Thomas has decided to skip church and go out for a bit. Katherine yells at Thomas for not making breakfast. Nor taking the kids to sunday school, so as she can visit the neighbor. But Thomas pulls out his old rusty suitcase from his college days int he basement. He remembers a time of change, a time of rest in a place where there always time to live and not just exist; Think and wonder. To fall in love and dream. He claps back the rusty latches and swiftly moves to what Katherine calls his `` garbage''. Pulls out his Tommy Bahama shirt ( He stole when he was 18 ), His plaid shorts and leather sandals Puts them on. Now opening the side pocket and pulls out his sony 1997 Tape player' combined with his N.W.A `` Boyz-N-the hood'' tape. Raises the volume high enough, to where he can not hear Katherine, now coming back to berate him about church. And starts to sing while leaving the house, `` Because the boys in the hood are always hard'', while strolling out the house and leaving it behind a smile starts to grow. Heading down to 2 jacks liquor store, Thomas proceeds to buy the nicest bottle of Champaign and celebrates his new life. Thomas now, in his new mental state of 20, will do this activity every week, every month and every year, until he quits his job, divorces Katherine and starts to date Zoe from the gym. Because humanity is repetitive and sad but you do n't have to be. Just look at Thomas. Or Ice cube.
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[ TT ] Writing Exercise : Start your story with , `` Get to the courtyard ! '' and continue writing without taking time to pause and think . Just keep writing even if at times you only produce gibberish .
| `` Get to the courtyard'' spoke the guard in his baritone voice. No responses were heard, as everyone continued panicking in the face of the oncoming storm. No person was willing to calm down and think about the orders, resorting instead to rampaging about, trying to find a way to escape the ensuing storm. The only ones who had any semblance of reason left were the guards and the king, and they barely knew what to do with this many people rioting. The only way the king knew would kill the rioters, while the guards were only recently established and had never seen such a situation before. The only way they could think of to solve this was to summon forth the high inquisitor to clear out the rabble, but that would only take time and would kill them all when the storm arrived. The only thing the king could do, then, was hide. He turned around and ran back into his palace, knowing that at least there he could stay in his shelter. The palace was built of solid materials; it would survive the storm. The peasants, meanwhile, could suffer their fate if they were unwilling to listen to his orders. As he climbed down the steps into the deepest parts of the palace, the King began wondering why the storm had arrived in the first place. He had done all the proper rites for the season of weathers, sacrificing a goat and a cow to the weather gods, for a promise of good rain. He had n't committed any foul deeds as of late, and he had properly succeeded the throne, there was nothing that came to mind that would drive them against him like this. As he was thinking this, a giant rumbling began. The Storm must have hit the castle now. The king could faintly hear the screams of those outside as they were twisted and torn apart by the fierce winds, knocking into objects. The rumbling continued, though the palace held firm. There was no way this place could fall apart, after all!
Clinging to that thought, the king was caught unawares when the rumbling suddenly ceased. His hands stretched into open air, looking for something to stop his fall, but the only thing was a candelabra; his hand slipped off the newly polished candle holder, unable to find purchase. The fall was a long one, ending in his head cracking upon the floor a good 20 meters below his initial falling point.
The weather gods nodded, their job done. They turned about, leaving behind their usual trail of destruction wherever they stepped. One king had been vanquished, and they would be getting triple rituals from the rival kingdom for this. So a few people had to die; so what? It was n't like they were worth anything....
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[ WP ] A man wakes up after 13 years under the influence of a love potion .
| Terry looked at the woman that slept on the bed beside him. He reached out for her cheek and rubbed it softly, searching for something, anything.
`` What's going on?...'' Terry shook his head as he rubbed at his eyes. He looked at the woman as she shuffled in bed and felt a sinking, twisting feeling in his chest.
Tears filled his eyes as he rubbed at her soft skin. `` I do n't have anything anymore. I do n't feel happy just lying here with you. You were everything to me and now I do n't feel anything for you. I'm just... empty now.''
Terry stood from his bed and walked out to the balcony. He let out a shout filled with the overwhelming hurt that was filling him. He turned back around, tears in his eyes, to see the woman he had loved for the past 13 years sitting up in their bed. She looked up at him, confused and still waking from sleep. His heart twisted in his chest again as he saw her blue eyes.
Terry's lips quivered and tears streamed down his face as he spoke, `` I loved you. I loved you so much that you became my life! It's all gone now. I was so happy and now I wo n't ever feel that way again... not without knowing what you've done.''
He turned back out the balcony and looked down to the street below him. He whispered out softly, just loud enough for the woman on the bed to hear, `` I would have loved you without it.''
The woman screamed out as the words sank in. She ran to the man desperately... but it was too late. Terry lay lifelessly on the ground below. A pool of ruby-red slowly spilling out around him.
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Edit: Woopsy! Typo fixes.
Edit Two: Line breaks.
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[ WP ] Your the captain of the largest spaceship ever constructed . Heck , last Tuesday you found a planet in one of the cargo-bays .
| Captain's Log, Entry 113: After holding my post on this vessel for some time, I must admit that I've grown to question the wisdom of constructing such a supermassive craft.
It has been 6 days since one of my navigators left the bridge in search of the auxiliary med-bay. I fear him hopelessly lost, perhaps dead, and have resigned myself to the thought that his remains may never be recovered. I dare not send a search party, lest the same fate befall them.
Meanwhile, rumors are continuing to spread that somewhere beyond Engine Room 132975 there exists a tribe of indigenous maintenance workers who have never made contact with the outside world.
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[ WP ] A customer is abusing The State Farm summoning jingle .
| It's the 40th time this week. I have n't slept for days, I do n't remember the last time I saw my family. This customer is pushing me. Always pushing, finding new ways to display his idiocy, only to have me swing in and save the day, bringing me ever closer to insanity. Not anymore. I've been carrying the only sharp object in my office, a pair of scissors, waiting for my next inevitable summoning. I then found myself in a cold, heavily wooded area. I hear a loud, angry roar behind. Great. A bear. I'm running alongside the customer in inappropriate office wear. All I have to do is trip him and let the bear do the dirty work.
But I guess today is the day I snap, because next thing I know I'm on top of him, plunging the scissors over and over and over and over and over into his chest, reveling in the crimson spray that erupted, draining him of life. Watching the moment of his death was almost post-coital. Then I remembered the fucking bear. I turned around to see a seven foot grizzly standing over me, drooling hungrily, and it let out one final roar before delivering the killing blow.
My insanity continued, as I did the one thing State Farm agents are taught *not* to do from day one. I used the jingle. Some ancient magic law was then broken by my utterance, and the earth started shaking. The bear ran off immediately, trees fell all around me, and the earth opened up beneath me. Before I fell, I saw the daytime moon crack in half, the sun blink out, and all around me dissolve into nothingness. I'm floating now, with nothing but my phone to record my story ( itself nearly dead ), in an inky void. I'm not sure how I survived the end of all existence, but now I'm doomed to this endless black. My scissors are gone, there is no mercy I can bring upon myself but to float here and chip away further at my sanity. How far gone am I? I hear what sounds like flutes, but the most insane tuneless playing I've ever heard. It's so distant, I ca n't be sure it's real, but the sound is louder and louder and now I hear some absolutely massive thing out there gibbering as if it's being serviced by the droning flutes and now... a drum? How do I describe this drumming other than evil? I'm hurling toward something malevolent, and clinging as tight as I can to my sanity. It wo n't last long.
*****
My husband works for State Farm. Well, worked. He's been in a coma for months since his car accident, I visit him daily but ca n't help but think of life without him. His absence has taken a toll on me and the baby, and I ca n't help but find myself wondering about life without him. Would they notice if I slipped and disconnected his breathing tube? Probably. I ca n't bear to see him like this, but even worse is living like this. What about me? I have to see this man I loved in such a pathetic state, go home to an empty, dying house after visiting hours, and keep a strong face for my child. Life has been brutal. Today he sat up, and I thought our nightmare was over, but he began screaming nonsense immediately. Something about nuclear chaos, flutes, a void and some word I have no idea how to transcribe... azathoth? What the hell does that even mean? It took 6 orderlies to hold him down, and just like that he was back to his coma. His skin felt a little colder, his heart beat a little faster, his muscles even slacker. It was then I knew my husband was gone for good. He will never be back.
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[ WP ] A world where young people only exist as the nightmares and campfire stories of the elderly .
| Harold rolled his wheelchair a few feet away from the sparking fire and put the flashlight under his wrinkled chin.
“ It happened twenty years ago, in sleepy town just like this one… ” he said, opening his eyes wide and smiling menacingly. “ The first snow had come and the roads were far too slippery to bring out your walker. ”
“ Come on, Harold, ” cried Agatha, and lighted a cigarette. “ That ’ s not even scary. ”
“ Eh, does your PCA know you ’ re smoking? ” asked Beatrice. “ I ’ m going to tell on you. ”
“ Oh yeah, Little Sis? Then I ’ m going tell him that you ’ ve only been pretending to have diabetes. My sight may be bad, but I can hear your knees cracking from a mile away when you sneak those cookies every other night. ”
“ Guys, can you shut up and let Harold tell the story? ” Earl tapped his bony knuckles against the hilt of his cane. “ I ’ m pretty sure your ceaseless bickering is the source of my arthritis. ”
“ Anyway, ” Harold continued. “ There was one person who dared defy the harsh weather and took his doggy out for a walk – Uncle Larry. He had just crossed the street and entered a small park when he noticed a set of footprints. Mind you, he was the only one outside and the footprints led straight into the forest. Larry could tell that something was wrong from the way his dog was growling and pulling the leash. No sane person would venture alone into the forest at this time of the year. What if you got a stroke or heart attack? No, that was unthinkable. ”
Harold leaned forward. “ CRACK! Branches were breaking and snow was tumbling from the trees. Larry turned and started limping out of the park. ‘ Hey, grandpa, where you off to so quickly? ’ someone called out behind him. The voice was much too smooth and expressive to belong to an elder. The realization sent shivers down Larry ’ s spine. He stumbled on as fast as his old bones allowed, but the creature was gaining on him. With panic filling him to the core, Larry threw a glance behind him. The creature was lean with pale skin and spiky black hair. Its nails were of shiny onyx just like its lips. It wore spiked bracelets and had a shirt that said ‘ Emo Bitch ’. ”
Harold twisted his face into a disturbing mask of wrinkles, stuck out his tongue and made the devil sign with his hand. The other elders were visibly scared now. “ The creature jumped in front of Larry and slid backward with inhuman grace on the ice. ’ Dayum brah, it ’ s slick as fuck. You shouldn ’ t be out here, grandpa, you might fall and break a hip. ’ His black talons grabbed Larry by the arm and started pulling him away. ‘ Here, let me help you find the closest nursing home… ’ Larry screamed and begged but the creature had him. ”
“ No way… ” breathed Agatha. “ Please tell me Larry got away! ”
“ W-what ’ s a nursing home? ” asked Beatrice, unable to keep her voice steady.
“ It ’ s a place worse than Hell where they only feed you Jell-O and make you watch reruns of Friends all day long… ” said Earl, visibly shuddering. “ Imagine if your nurses and PCAs lived with you and were watching you 24/7. ”
“ I don ’ t like this anymore, ” said Beatrice. “ Harold your stories are too morbid for me. ”
*****
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[ WP ] In music , changing a song to a minor key is a small change that makes the song sound much creepier or sadder . Write a happy story , and then its counterpart in a minor key .
| As Steven climbed into the vessel, it immediately came to life. Lights and screens flickered on in a vivid display of reds, greens, and yellows, indicating various systems, fuel levels, and navigation controls. Off in the corner of the command module sat a single small, unlit AUTO-LAUNCH button. Naturally, Steven pressed it as soon as he got in. No point messing around with navigational coordinates today, everything had already been taken care of at command for the journey.
Instantly the vessel began to shake and stir as the engines underneath Steven ’ s feet roared to life. The door behind him slammed shut, releasing a loud hiss of pressurized air as the cabin sealed itself to the outside world. As Steven scrambled into the pilot ’ s seat and buckled his 6-point harness, the main display came to life with the message he had been waiting for ever since his crazy journey started:
“ SYSTEM READY. LAUNCH IN
T-10 SECONDS ”
“ 9... 8... 7... ”
Was it really his time? Adrift for so many years, Earth felt like mere remnants of a dream. Steven could scarcely remember what Earth was like. There was a lot of water, more than a single person could ever need for survival, and plants so big a single one could fill an entire space station! Earth smells though, they always felt a bit off. Steven could quite put his finger on why, but it felt almost *unnatural*.
“ 6... 5... 4... ”
Steven ’ s stomach churned as the little craft began to shake in the launch dock. A faint humming noise could be heard from beneath his feet, getting louder with each passing second as the various systems aboard warmed up. Any second the engines would fire.
“ 3... 2... 1...... LAUNCH ”
For a split second, exactly nothing happened. Steven looked around for an abort light, perhaps a system check had failed at the last moment. He was just about to unbuckle the harness from his seat when the engines finally came to life, jolting the craft with a force nearly ten times that of gravity. All the air was forced out of Steven ’ s lungs as he was violently pressed into the seat below him. Through the tiny porthole window, he could see the giant, ancient Kazumel Space Station, infused with a majestic gleam in the glare of the sun as it as his little pod zoomed away and towards a faint blue speck in the starry sky. He was going *home* at long last.
*****
As Steven dove into the vessel, it immediately came to life. Lights and screens flickered on in a vivid display of reds, greens, and yellows, indicating various systems, fuel levels, and navigation controls. Off in the corner of the command module sat a single small, unlit AUTO-LAUNCH button. Steven pressed this as soon as he was able to reach it, praying the door would close quickly enough. The default programmed journey was good enough. *Anything* to get as far away from here as possible was good enough!
The vessel began to shake and stir as the engines underneath Steven's feet roared to life. The door behind him finally slammed shut with a hiss, muffling the sound of the klaxon alarm going off throughout the rest of the space station. As he got into the pilot's seat and buckled his 6-point harness, the main display came to life with the message he had been waiting for so impatiently these last few seconds:
`` SYSTEM READY. LAUNCH IN
T-10 SECONDS''
`` 9... 8... 7...''
Would he make it in time? Adrift for so many years, the Kazumel Space Station felt more like home than Earth had in recent years. Steven could scarcely remember what Earth was even like. There was a lot of water, more than a person could ever need for survival, and plants so big a single one could fill the entire station. Earth smells though, they always felt a bit off. It was too similar, he decided. The smell of toxic fumes as the fuel leaked throughout the station smelled *exactly* like the polluted remains of what was once the greatest single civilization in the galaxy. It was simply *unnatural*.
`` 6... 5... 4...''
Steven's stomach churned as the little craft began to shake in the launch dock. A faint humming noise could be heard from beneath his feet, getting louder with each passing second as the various systems aboard warmed up. Was it supposed to sound like that? What if something had gone wrong? He did n't have time to run to the other escape pods, so he just closed his eyes and prayed everything would be okay, that he would make it through this nightmare intact...
`` 3... 2... 1...''
For a split second, Steven lay there whimpering in his seat as exactly nothing happened. It should have launched by now, he thought. Something's wrong. He worked up the courage to slowly open a single eye and peer at the main display, then gasped in horror as his situation became clear: `` ABORT.'' Nothing more, no error codes, no explanation for the launch failure, just `` ABORT,'' written in bold red letters. Tears welled up in Steven's eyes as the full impact of those 5 simple letters hit home. *Home*. It was nothing more than a faint blue speck in the starry sky now. By the time anyone figured out what had happened, he would be long gone. Nothing else filled his view through the tiny porthole window except for the right half of the ancient Kazumel Space Station itself, its exterior infused with a majestic glean in the glare of the sun as his little pod slowly began to power down. After all of his work to try and salvage the pod for the inevitable escape, he would never go home after all...
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[ WP ] Make it so that I do n't know whether it 's Voldemort or Trump .
| I always said I would wait until it was my time to take over. I've waited years to step into power. Now that I am certain I can defeat those around me I can claim what I know I deserve.
I am even impressed by my own greatness. No one ever helped me. I built what I have by myself and for myself. I started from nothing. With just a small fortune to my name I created an empire. The people need me. They need me a lot more than I need them. Thats why they support me. They say that I will be the one to restore us to greatness.
Obviously anyone with a margianal amount of intelligance knows that the people are better off now than the last time one of our brothers was in power. But once people trust you it is all too easy to twist the truth. I can convince them that our whole nation is in shambles. I can take their hate and direct it at our current leader. No matter what he does we will hate him. And with that hate we will enpower ourselves. Hate does not care about lies or truth. Hate simply wants to aquire more hate.
If I need to distort a truth it is a small price to pay. I seek to convince our people that the leader is less than human. He is not from here. It is known that those of his race can not be left to manage anything without destroying it. Once he is gone order will be restored.
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[ WP ] There are many types of Mages in the world . Fire , Ice , Wind , Water , Death , Darkness , to name a few . But in this world , every type of mage is treated as equal . Everyone can be a good guy , no matter how dark your power . And anyone could be a bad guy , no matter how beautiful their ability ...
| He always struggled with autopsies. It was possibly the worst part of being a detective, he mused, as he made his way down into the cold bowels of the hospital, to the realm of the Death Queen. The other detectives had told him such wild stories about her, this specialist registrar; she was ice personified, she preferred dead people to the living, she could kill you with a single look.
Utter nonsense, of course. If only he could make the hairs on the back of his neck understand that.
He was n't scared, you see. No, not him. He had faced armed assailants, disarmed bombs, saved countless lives! The hairs were pricking because it was cold, that's all.
He focused on counting the stairs methodically, breathing slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth as the temperature dropped incrementally with every step.
Gods above, he thought, surely the dead wo n't mind a bit of central heating? Not like they'll notice the cold!
`` How anybody can work down here,'' he muttered, `` is beyond me. Who'd want to? Lunatics, that's who. And morbid people. And.... necrophiliacs, I suppose. Though maybe they'd not be working. They say you should find a job you love, after all!''
The sound of voices drifting through the morgue doors jolted him out of his fear induced babbling; she had an assistant? Nobody had told him that!
He pushed open the doors loudly, making the young woman bending over the metal slab jump violently, and the lighthearted chatter stopped abruptly.
She looked up at him, confused for a moment.
`` Hello,'' she said, holding out her hand for him to take, `` I'm Gabrielle. I work with the bodies of the departed, get them to spill their secrets. You must be the one taking poor Julie-Ann's case? It's a nasty one, I'm afraid. Multiple contusions on the arms, legs, and torso, that are clearly defensive wounds, as well as too damned many lacerations. This one,'' she points with one pristine latex glove to a nasty looking knife wound below the dead woman's clavicle, `` was the cause of death, though these three would also have killed her given enough time.
`` It was her ex partner, the one she filed multiple reports about, he should be on your system. Had you lot done your jobs properly,'' she levels a hard state at him as he shifts his weight unevenly, `` this poor woman would still be alive right now!''
He clears his throat, looking around him uneasily.
`` Yes, well, limited resources, not really my area, and besides how were we supposed to trust the word of one woman claiming her ex was a psycho? The woman sounded deranged in the recordings I've listened to!''
He raised his gaze to hers defiantly- only to lower them so quickly he thought he might have given himself whiplash. Her beautiful face had gone from mildly rebuking to positively glacial as he had been busy shoving his foot in his mouth.
`` Did, uh, did your assistant leave? I heard... I thought I heard talking when...''
Her eyes had n't left his and frankly he was very unnerved, so he decided to beat a courageous retreat.
`` Right. Yes. I'll look into the ex, thank you for your time, thank you for autopsying her so quickly. Wo n't disregard a woman's allegations of psychotic behaviour again.''
He turned on his heel at her nod of acceptance, letting the doors close quietly behind him. As he walked away, it hit him what had seemed out of place; the woman had n't been autopsied. There was no evidence that she had been opened up at all.
He was half way up the first flight of stairs when the voices reached him again. *Her*, and, was that... was that the voice from the frantic calls he'd been listening to just that morning?
It could n't be.
It could n't.
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[ WP ] You are a world champion of a certain trading card game . When you pull off a supposedly impossible combo at a tournament you summon a horrifying creature , on live television .
| Ulamog dragged his tentacled appendage along the pitiful ground of this new plane. All that he touched was turned to gray ash, the life sucked out of it. He was ever hungry, ever thirsting for more to consume. His unfathomable manifestation destroyed all that came into contact with it. Still he hungered. He had consumed world after world and still nothing could satiate him. This would be no different.
He could not stop. All he knew was to consume, to destroy. He paid no mind to the dying cries of the creatures he found on his way. His spawn skittered across the landscape, leaving nothing behind. As always, the world would be left bare and flat, with no one left to even know of it. It would be erased from existence. Then he would move to the next plane. Then the next. He would consume until no more was left in all the infinite multiverse.
Ulamog was the ceaseless hunger, the infinite gyre. In his wake, all was dust.
_________________________________________________________________
Kozilek saw the world before him, seeing all time and space. He reformed the plane he saw, replacing the chaos underneath his feet with beautiful order. The strange, round, moving shapes became perfect squares. They became prisms and points. All that existed was his to make right. He ended the messy law of entropy. Gravity was replaced with the vision of all the universe. His slaves and spawn spread his fractal patterns across the ground.
He was a black hole, sucking the chaos out of the world. The mortal minds below him could not begin to understand what he was. Brilliant bismuth patterns replaced the streets he walked upon. The wretched little creatures below would be his servants. He was the laws of physics. He could do what he pleased with the fabric of the universe.
Kozilek was the shapeshifter, the great distortion. In his wake, reality bent.
_________________________________________________________________
Emrakul flew high above the miserable town below her. Where there were plain streets and buildings, she left life. Wriggling tentacles grew from the ground. Those who submitted to her and remained below became part of an ever expanding ooze. They became part of her. She spread cross the countryside, a great titan of life.
Stone, metal, nothing stopped her. All became part of her, part of life. Her writhing mass flew above the world. The world of course, would become her. Her tentacle covered spawn crawled through the world. She was life, a biological monstrosity. This world would not know death, only her endless living. This world would be destroyed, and sh would be left behind.
She was Emrakul, the promised end. In her wake, all was alive.
_________________________________________________________________
`` We are reporting live from Magic the Gathering Pro Tour Eldritch Moon, and contestant Jonathan Paige Appears to have summoned some actual eldritch horrors. We are here with an exclusive interview with the man himself. Come on in, John!''
John walked into view of the camera. `` Thanks, Lance. Now, I'm sorry about unleashing a horrible threat to the world and all that, but I'm also kind of proud of myself. I mean, I did all this. Wow.''
`` So, can you tell us how exactly you did this?''
`` Yes, of course. So essentially, there's this `` 0 turn win'' combo, and its extremely hard to pull off. I was looking through some of my old cards, and I found a similar combo which would instead get all three Eldrazi Titans, which are basically extremely huge creatures, out very fast. The likelihood of it actually happening is very low, but I decided to just say,'Why not!' and bring it here. So somehow I managed to get all the way to the finals, and then at the very last game, boom! Combo. Now, obviously this had some sort of unforeseen effect that summoned the actual Titans to New York.''
`` Very interesting, John. Can you tell us how you first knew you had actually summoned these'Eldrazi Titans'?''
`` Good question. I think I knew as soon as I saw them, but I really realized what was happening when I saw my opponent's eyeballs turn into tentacles as his arms were dissolved into dust, while his body turned into a perfect square on the ground. The game has a storyline, and that seems like something you would think came straight from the game designers. Sorry I ca n't stay, I kind of have to escape the horrible god-monsters terrorizing the world. Bye!'' John ran away.
`` There you have it, people,'' Lance said, his mouth contorted into a fake smile as his mind told him to scream and run. `` Stay tuned, because after the commercial break we are going to interview one of the titans themselves!''
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[ WP ] You are the richest man on the planet . But you wake to find out that everything 's free .
| `` What do you mean,'Everything's free.'? I'm not the richest man in the world for nothing! It *means* something, Gerard, that I can *spend money*.''
`` If you would allow me to explain, sir...''
`` Please do. I want to know how everything I've worked for became worthless.''
`` Well, sir, last night you made quite a good many profitable deals with people and governments that, well, made you a few quadrillion dollars. You quite literally broke *money*. So, after celebrating with a few strong drinks-''
`` Bloody Hell, I did it, did n't I.''
`` Yes sir, you did. You had me set up a fund so that, if someone submits an application for anything, and it is approved, they receive it for free. All retailers are automatically enrolled.''
`` Wow. Alright then. May I have a free cup of tea?''
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[ WP ] You are an immigrant who just moved to America with your family . It 's 4th of July and you have no idea what it is , or that it 's celebrated .
| I could no longer live in a land where I survived under constant fear for my daughter and wife. Boko Haram was a ruthless band of savages. I would not let them take my family the way they had taken so many others.
The moment I had the necessary money to move to America with my entire family I did it.
To `` make a long story short'' as some say we made it to America. New York to be specific. Life here was very different. I found a job cleaning dishes and my wife a job in a laundromat. We were getting by and while Queens had its own dangers it was not Nigeria.
I lived like a normal immigrant in America and enjoyed the freedom and security of not hearing gunfire constantly.
Little did I know that July fourth is a day celebrated with the sound of gunfire.
On July fourth my family and myself went east into Nassau County on Long Island. Every month or so we would take a Saturday to enjoy ourselves. After getting off the train we walked around a town.
We suddenly heard a loud siren and people's screams. We rushed down streets with fear in our eyes until we saw a large crowd of people all dressed in red or white or blue.
Upon a closer look I could see these people were happy. We approached the crowd and could see people waving flags and clapping and yelling.
On the street they were on were fire trucks rolling by with drivers waving and sounding the sirens.
There were flags everywhere. People waved them, the hung from poles, they were attached to vehicles.
`` Would you like to get a closer look?'' A older man said to me suddenly. `` Come on,'' He motioned to my family and got us to the front.
This man was white with gray hair and a mustache. He wore a cap with an American flag on it. Above it said `` US ARMY'' and below the flag: `` VIETNAM VETERAN.''
We walked to the front and watched as fire engines drove by. We saw police officers march by. We saw veterans walk along. Flags with all of them.
A woman tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to her. `` Flag?'' She handed me and my family all flags and kept walking the crowd handing them out.
I waved it. I laughed and cheered. But finally my curiosity got the best of me and I felt the need to ask a question of the older man.
`` Does this happen every weekend here?'' I asked. He laughed.
`` If only,'' He replied. `` Just today,''
`` But why?'' I asked.
This time he gave me a confused face. `` You're not originally from here are you?'' I shook my head. `` Today is the Fourth of July. Our Independence Day. The day we chose to break away from the British monarchy and form our own nation. We celebrate the freedom we achieved that day and how we grew from there. This country is far... far from perfect, but it's home.''
I was in awe. These people celebrated this holiday every year. Held parades, and lit fireworks as this kind man explained. They sang songs about their different branches of military services, of independence, of freedom and liberty. They had barbeques, had friends over drank and ate together. Wished one another a happy day. They thanked whichever god they worshiped for the abundance and security they had in this country. They praised the people who fought to preserve it. They celebrated being American.
`` So where did you come from?'' The man finally asked me.
`` Nigeria,'' I answered.
`` How long have you been here?''
`` A few months,''
`` Good,'' The man said. `` Do you like it so far?''
`` Yes we do,'' I said. `` My country does not have such a day as this,''
`` Yes it does,'' The man corrected. `` This is your country now,''
I could not believe what the man told me. I was not a citizen yet. I wanted to be but as far as I was concerned I was not an American yet.
`` I have to go,'' The man said. `` My family is having a barbeque. You're more than welcome to come.''
We went with the man to his home where he gave us food and laughed with us. We met his family. We were given strange glances at first but welcomed like any other American.
This was my country now. I loved it here. I celebrated my new home that day and look forward to the next Fourth of July.
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[ WP ] Once every generation someone is chosen by an omnipotent being and given the ability to change a horrible event that took place during their lifetime . The only rule : the person had to witness the event .
| Well The bus stopped. As I woke from my haze the sound of excited kids and the yell of teachers to `` grab your stuff leave nothing on the bus''. I hate field trips but, personally this was the first one that actually gave me the chance to go somewhere cool. It was a Tuesday. Previously to the bus ride I had to wake up really god damn early. My mom was going about her business getting me ready fussing way too much for a 14 year old going on a field trip. She always gets really excited when I go anywhere and she always asks a million questions when I get back.
That is mainly because I was `` Chosen'';
She is always really cool about it though.
I just get really sick of her asking `` did it happen yet?''
As she drops me off at school and I get out of the car she hollers `` do n't forget your hoodie its cold out. `` Jesus mom! Its freaking September. Calm down.''
I had packed a few items.My SONY CD player was a necessity. the night before I had burned my essential Rammstein mix.
My buddy Jeremey for the trip knew I was `` Chosen'' as least he did n't give a shit. As we exit the bus we step out onto the street. It was actually pretty cool.
Nobody I know has actually been to Kennedy Museum.
The Large arched doorway lead to the presidents legacy the Apollo program.
It's hard to believe someone tried to shoot this guy.
I look at my watch the date and time display 9/11/2001 8:45 am.
I look up at a plane.
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