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[ WP ] '' Shhh , the more you think about it . The closer it gets . ''
| `` Shh, Ardent. The more you think about it, the closer it gets.''
I had been shedding blurry water from my eyes for some time by then, but the useless bit of advice made me want to continue crying for a different reason entirely.
I shrugged Acolyte's hand off of my shoulder with a sudden and violent motion.
How could I have confided my weakness in someone I scarcely knew? Someone weaker than I, even. The thought of it only served to add to my misery. These foul sensations that pricked and sliced at my mind would be the end of me, and yet she suggests I place them out of my mind? If I had the ability to do so, I would not be in this humiliating position.
Acolyte rested shaking hands in her lap and watched me patiently with a sad smile. She was nervous, but when I imagined she might remove herself from the damned log we sat on, she instead stayed.
For a few long moments we sat in silence.
`` What is this?'' I finally relented, allowing whatever plagued me to take over. The longer I fought it, the faster the tears would come.
Acolyte shifted slightly on the log and nodded at me as I looked into her blue eyes.
`` Sadness,'' she spoke quietly, so the others might not hear her.
`` How do I defeat it?'' I instinctively balled my hands into fists on my lap.
Acolyte chuckled lightly, returning her hand gently to my shoulder, and said `` With happiness.''
With her simple reply and another smile, Acolyte swept up her decorated robe and moved back towards the rest of the camp.
It would be a while yet before I could smile as easily as she did, but I would thank her every day for it.
|
[ WP ] A wall has been erected overnight , surrounding the town . People are dying .
| He took another drag of his cigarette. He knew it would be the last one he'd have for a while, but despite this fact, enjoyed it rather insignificantly. He kicked the dirt by his feet, projecting a small pebble -- about the size of a penny, certainly not larger than a nickel -- to the base of the wall. The pebble disappeared in a sea of gray concrete, fortified with steel and wiring atop the miles long barrier of health.
The people living in the town contained within were well aware of the disease -- indeed, as was the entire world -- though none care to speak of it. The wall, which quite literally appeared overnight, was proof of their suffering; each mile built another painstaking revelation that their lives were to be confined within this abyss of horror, each gunshot a reminder that someone was attempting to cross the wall into a freedom that would never come. Their lives were medieval, consisting of just enough grain and water to progress through a day before retiring to their small cabins where each member of the town lied awake for hours hoping that they would not be the next to open their eyes in the morning with the deep, guttural cough that indicated death was but three days away.
He dropped his cigarette into the dirt and stepped on it with the gentleness of a breeze. He exhaled his last puff of smoke, the buzz not nearly enough to nullify his feelings of uncertainty, and walked back to his cabin. He stepped in, kicking his shoes off at the door, as his daughter ran up and embraced his right leg.
`` Daddy, the walls are scary,'' she replied, as had every child of every man who had laboriously constructed the wall the evening before.
`` It's okay, baby. The walls protect us. They ca n't get us if we're in here.''
( Author's note: hope it's clear, but I tried to make the reader assume the walls were meant to keep the sick townspeople IN, but rather the healthy townspeople constructed the wall themselves in order to keep the sickened others out. )
|
[ WP ] Medusa turned me to stone , but not in the way you 'd think ...
| They called my Binyamin, before the accident.
No, it was no accident. I am far from the god of my fathers in Canaan; here in Greece there is no accident, only fate. So they say. But I was a man named Binyamin before, and now... I am not a man. A thing, perhaps, to be tossed about and discarded by careless gods.
I hate them still, for cursing me with this hardened form. But still, my curse is not so great as that of poor Medusa, she whom they call the Gorgon. What right do I have to complain, that I came upon her in the throes of passion with the god Poseidon, and was turned to a living statue for my trouble? Hers is to turn all men who look her way so, and they do not move nor speak as I do. I have gone to the priests, who have sent trusted men to the Oracle; they say that looking upon her while the curse was fresh saved me from the effects, in part.
Saved me! How I wish I had perished instead. I wander from town to town, owning little but the half-skirt around my waist, my skin cracked and orange, the truth of my monstrosity clear for all to see. I can not abide the stares of good folk, who can not be blamed for reacting only with horror. For who could love one such as me?
Though, I may have an answer to such things. A blind beggar-girl, beautiful beyond belief and - so sweet! - ignorant of my own form, told me a story of a trio across the see, struck by curses of their own, having found their way together across nations. She speaks of the man Kalami, who reaches further than any arrow; the storm-borne woman, who can hide from the sight of men and gods; and her brother, whom they call the Greek Torch. She says that they seek all like them, who have been torn down and rebuilt by the gods, twisted but mighty.
And with that, I could not help but laugh for the first time for my transformation. Companions with whom I could enjoy my monstrosity? Perhaps the melancholy is not my fate after all! No longer, I vowed with a smile, would they call me Binyamin the Grim. I would embrace my curse, my gift, my life as... a Thing.
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[ WP ] Why do dogs get all the treats ? From a cats point of view
| What the fuck is this? They really feeding this motherfucker again? Damn. What the fuck man, why not me?! I'm hungry too bitch! I like bacon! I like treats! I'll fuckin dance for you and bark and shake you fucking hand! You think I like eating mice? Do you? Nah son. Not at all. You gots it all backwards. Go buy me some fucking kitty treats or I'ma piss all over your bedsheets.
Oh now you're gon na pet me?
Fuck you! I do n't want no massage, I want a fuckin' snack!
OH...
Uh..
ooohh...
fuck....
Okay..This is awesome.
PRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr......
I'm gettin fucking sleepy yo. I'm just gon na rest my head for a minute but bitch you do n't forget about my..abou...........
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[ WP ] The little shop sells second hand junk . But each item comes with its own story that makes it unique . Pick an item and tell its story .
| It seemed an orphan. Lost. Belonging then to no one in particular, except perhaps its own pointed desire to simply exist.
It huddled in the shadows of the bulging, blue neon cube that was Electric Sushi, wearing shades of silvery purple across its small, closed face. The door was old iron. It scraped and groaned as you pushed it open. The bell at the apex of the doorframe had no clapper. It rang like a fallen horseshoe.
Keir and Thomas came through that door together, Thomas pulling Keir, cooing and oohing, pointing at things half-seen through the blistered windows. Keir pulled back.
`` C'mon,'' he said. `` You know I hate this stuff.''
`` What's to hate?'' said Thomas, picking up a copper bird, making it fly, then setting it back down. `` This is history.''
Keir shook his head, turning his back on it all. `` It's junk. I'm starving. Let's go.''
`` We're ten minutes early,'' said Thomas, nearly skipping. `` Let's just look.''
`` Look at what?'' said Keir, eyes wide, irritated. `` Old, broken clocks? Spiders made out of paper clips? I mean, for Christ's sake, look at this!'' He snatched up a yellowing disc of painted corkboard. `` It's a fucking *used coaster*. From Bindy's fucking Steakhouse! Why the hell would anyone buy this?''
Thomas scratched his chin. `` Let's find out.''
`` No!'' said Keir. `` It's just a piece of trash.''
But Thomas plucked it away. `` We do n't know what it is until we ask.''
They moved to the front of the store, Thomas charging ahead, dragging Keir by means of some unseen tractor beam, or perhaps whatever invisible bond that binds lovers. `` There's writing on it,'' said Thomas. `` The plot thickens.''
`` Or that's just more points in my favor,'' said Keir. His stomach growled.
There was a woman at the register, heavyset and nearly spilling over with excitement at the sight of the men and the coaster.
`` Now here's two boys who know a deal when they see one,'' she said, swinging to the register, fingers flying across the keypad. Keir saw the $ 19.99 flash on the display and nearly went cross-eyed with agitation.
`` Now wait just a minute!'' he shouted.
Thomas held up a hand. `` Actually, we were really just wondering what the story was. Why is this coaster for sale? It's even been written on. Is this...'' Thomas started. `` Did someone famous own this coaster?''
`` I do n't care if Jesus himself used it when he turned water into wine,'' said Keir. `` It's a goddamn disposable coaster!''
`` Of course someone used it,'' said the woman, taking the coaster from Thomas' hand. `` See this? This bit up here?''
Thomas squinted. `` It's a phone number.''
`` It's the Dancer's phone number,'' she said. `` She gave it to him that night. At Bindy's.''
Keir shook his head. `` Are we supposed to know what that means?''
The lady smiled and sighed. `` She was on a date that night. A guy from the club. He'd given her money and jewelry, so... so she figured she could n't say no. And not for something as fancy as Bindy's. He sent a car and picked her up at her apartment over in Oakville, which is n't any better today than it was then. But she got all dolled up and went to Bindy's.
`` He was n't a nice man. And he was married, which apparently he did n't think much of. They were n't even alone. There were some other men there. Business partners, maybe. The guy was showing off, and it was obvious he expected a little more at the end of the night... they all did.
`` She was lucky, though. That's how she met the Waiter. He was as kind as her date was cruel. And when she wrote her phone number down on the coaster - this coaster - and gave it back with her drink, he knew what it meant. He called her from his cellphone. Pretended to be her brother. Said their mom had fallen down and she needed to get to the hospital. He even called her a cab.
`` Her date thought she was lying, so she handed him the cellphone. The Waiter was convincing. And she got away. That was the start of it.''
`` She called him back?'' said Thomas, leaning forward on the counter, while Keir paced in the aisle, aggressively checking and re-checking his phone.
The lady shook her head. `` Too shy. Too ashamed. She thought maybe he'd gotten the wrong impression of her, from the company she'd kept, from the way they'd talked about her and the way she dressed. So she did n't dare.''
`` And he did n't call her?''
`` Once,'' said the lady. `` She did n't answer.''
`` Great story,'' sighed Keir. `` Ready for dinner?''
`` That's hardly a story at all,'' said the lady.
`` Yeah,'' said Thomas, waving Keir away. `` Let the lady finish.''
She took a slow breath. `` He found her. Whether he was looking or whether it was just a coincidence I do n't know. But he found her. Found her at The Dollhouse. She was dancing on stage and she saw him and nearly dropped dead of shock. Cut the dance short. Left most of the money right where it was on stage. Took 20 minutes for the house mother to talk her out of the closet. And when she finally came back out he was gone, but there was a drink waiting for her at the bar. Tanqueray and Tonic, just like she'd ordered at Bindy's. It was sitting on this coaster.''
She held the coaster out, pointing to a smudge of Sharpie text on the backside, just below the crossed out phone number. `` Titan's 9 Sat Please.''
`` Titan's... Titan's Taphouse?'' said Thomas. The lady nodded. `` So he asked her out?''
`` In a way,'' said the shopkeeper. `` She did n't go.''
`` Why the hell not?'' said Keir, momentarily forgetful of the fact he supposedly did n't care.
`` Embarrassed, I guess,'' she said. `` It's not an easy thing, what she was doing for a living. Exposing yourself to strangers in more than the one way. You got to balance that out somehow, and maybe part of that's being closed off. Maybe she was just distrustful in general. Or maybe it was something else entirely. But she did n't go. Except the next day she went, to be in that space or maybe just to feel a little worse about it. She saw a sign advertising an open mic at 9pm on Saturday nights. That made her wonder. So she asked the bartender who'd played the night before. Two girls and a guy - a guy who sounded a lot like the Waiter. Turns out he had n't been all that good, but he was trying. He was putting himself out there.
`` Time went by. Two phone numbers on two cellphones, falling deeper and deeper into obscurity. Then the Dancer broke her phone. Lost all the numbers and all the lists. And every time she got a call from a number she did n't know, she wondered if it was him. But still, she never answered and she never called back.
`` Her parents came to town for her birthday. She asked them to take her to Bindy's for a treat, but the Waiter was n't there and she did n't dare ask around for him.
`` The Dancer stopped being a dancer. She moved into catering while she went back to school to get her MBA. One day she catered a wedding.''
Thomas pulled back from the counter. `` Are you serious?''
`` She catered *the Waiter's wedding? *'' said Keir, darting into the space abdicated by Thomas. `` What is this, a Jennifer Lopez movie?''
`` She catered a wedding,'' said the shopkeeper, as if she'd hardly heard either of them. `` And there was a wedding singer and he looked very familiar.''
`` Oh shit!'' said Keir.
Thomas grabbed the coaster, flipping it around and holding it up to the greenish florescent light. `` It just says,'Hi.' That's the only other thing on here.''
`` Is that disappointing?'' said the lady.
`` For all that build up, it feels like that should have been a little more epic,'' said Keir.
`` Because it's a story?'' said the lady. `` But it's only a story to you. To them it was life. And the Dancer was n't a character. She was a person. And the thing she thought to write that day was,'Hi'.''
`` So they ended up together?'' said Keir.
The shopkeeper shrugged. `` I have no idea.''
`` You have... *well what the hell was the point if they did n't end up together?? *''
`` What's the point of anything?'' she said. `` What was the point of you stopping here today?''
`` Because *he*...'' Keir caught himself. Then he sighed, reaching into his wallet and pulling out a $ 20 bill. He slid the bill across the counter, took the coaster out of the shopkeepers hand, then leaned over and kissed Thomas gently on the lips.
`` Can we *please* go get some sushi now?''
Thomas smiled. `` Let's.''
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[ WP ] A genie actually grants everyone 's 1,000,000th wish , but nobody has figured this out . Some do n't get to a million ; other 's waste their millionth . You were just granted your very strange Millionth Wish .
| As I sat drinking my morning coffee and staring out at another rainy day, I could here the baby stirring over the monitor. I went up and peeked through the door.
There are no words to describe how it feels to have a child. It is painful and magical all at the same time. There is worry and stress, but so much happiness and love. Everyone has been so excited. She is the first of her generation in our family. Our first child, the first grandchild, the first neice, and everybody loves her so much.
Only she is n't the first, her brother was here before her, but nobody likes to think about him. He did n't even get to take a breath so he does n't count. He did n't have a birthday, a celebration, he should have started school this year, he will never do that. He will never eat ice cream, or walk across the beach, or drink coffee and watch the rain. Nobody mentions him, nobody thinks about him, nobody even acknowledges he was ever here.
I wish they did. I wish they mourned him like I do. I wish I could have held him close and told him I loved him. I wish I could have kept him safe. I wish and I wish, over and over again that he were here with me now, watching over his baby sister.
That's when I felt it, a tugging at my skirt. I looked down to see a small boy with tousled blonde hair and big brown eyes, `` Mummy, can we do a jigsaw while the baby sleeps? ``.
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[ WP ] A man moves into a haunted house from ( insert scary movie here ) . The demon in the house does n't realize how dangerous the man really is .
| The spirit almost shook with anticipation. He had a new guest. A very unassuming man. Someone you could be in the same room with for hours and never feel the darkness, which permeated through his soul. He wore a black T-shirt, underneath a black hoodie. Jeans and an average pair of walking shoes finished the look. He walked through the large oak wood doors with a grin on his face. Looking up at the staircase, he saw the mold creeping down the walls, past the few light fixtures there were. Dark red wallpaper wrapped the interior of the house. Windowless walls created an atmosphere most serial killers would, for lack of a better term, kill for. The man slowly made his way up the staircase, with the spirit following close behind. The spirit was that of an older farm hand. He had mostly dealt with livestock, like cows. His humble life was the reason his spirit remained behind. All he was looking for was some entertainment. He had found some with the locals who constantly felt the need to prove themselves.
The man made it to the guestroom. He left a small suitcase he had been carrying on the bed.
“ You know I can sense you. ” The mans voice was deep and devoid of emotion. If the spirit had a physical body, it would be at this point, it would have been soiled.
“ Who-who are you? ” Said the spirit, now slinking back towards the hallway leading to the staircase.
“ I ’ m your worst nightmare. ” The man started shaking uncontrollably with laughter. “ I ’ m going to have so much fun with you tonight. ” He looked directly at the unlucky mess that was now shaking with more fear. “ I ’ m going to wear you like a finger puppet. ”
“ Wh-what does that even mean? ”
“ Here let me show you ” The man drew closer to the spirit.
“ Please…I can do anything you want. ”
“ I don ’ t like being merciful. ” The man now smiling, wide eyed, and twitching. “ Are you ready for the hole? ”
The spirit withdrew even more... now cornered could only ask one more time… ” who…who are you? ”
“ Why... I ’ m the mad king. ”
Sorry for writing this... just... sorry. Hope any AH fans had a laugh though.
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[ WP ] The church doors opened and the best man staggered down the aisle with the bride 's face stitched over his .
| The crowd shrieks in panicked surprise. The Groom yells, `` What the hell man? Someone call the cops!'' The best man holds up his hand and yells over the noise, `` Hold on its a cccrrrraaazzzyyyy story guys. Trust me you wan na hear this.'' The bride's father stands up, `` Why the hell would I want to listen to you explain how you killed my daughter? You fucking crazy person.'' the father charged towards the best man but several people int he crowd held him back. The best man undeterred by the father's outburst began his story.
`` Ok so you know the guy leatherface?'' A few people in the crowd nod. `` Well I swear to god no joke, me and Beth are walking down the street, drunk off of our asses and fucking leatherface stumbles out of the bushes. Now I'm talking this guy has a legit costume. Chainsaw he's huge, like 6'8 probably on stilts or something''
A guy in the crowd interupts, `` Get to the point already, the cops are gon na be here soon.'' The best man continues, `` Okay Okay so anyway me and Beth give this guy a beer and we continue on our way. Now he does n't talk or anything but he takes the beer and we are wasted so we just shake it off. So we take leatherface to the bar and we stay till they kick us out. Now at this point the guy was a lot more upbeat. A real character that guy was. So leatherface starts leading us somewhere. The guy takes us to this old abandoned shed and lo and behold he starts his chainsaw. One thing leads to another and he cuts Beth's face off and sews it onto mine.''
The best man stops looks around and gives a hearty laugh. The crowd stares in disbelief, `` Are you fucking kidding me? What is so goddamn funny?'' the groom demands charging down the aisle. At this point the police sirens are audible outside.
The police rush in and seperate the groom and the best man. One of the policeman comes up to the best man and says, `` Sir you are under arrest for playing the best prank ever'' The cop turns around smiling. The crowd is silent. Then the Bride rushes in and the groom and her get married. Happily ever after.
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[ WP ] Everything that fortune cookies say comes true
| Everything that Fortune Cookies say comes true
Jeff walked in to Mr. Ling's Chinese Emporium. He sat at the table in the back, spacious and clean as always. He picked up the menu and flagged down the waitress.
`` I'll have two spring rolls and how bout that beef lo mein?''
`` I'll have that right out for you.'' His phone buzzed as the waitress walked away. A text message. `` Meet me at Frank's tonight. You know the deal.''
*What the fuck? * Jeff thought. *Who is Frank? What's his deal? And where is my Lo Mein? Oh right that was only a full minute ago I ordered it. What the fuck am I doing thinking out loud like this? It's so damn slow. Better get back to aimlessly sitting in a booth. *
Jeff stared at the wall until his Lo Mein came. Between the spicy egg rolls and the steaming Lo Mein, Jeff was getting quite toasty in his leather jacket.
*I ca n't wait to get back on my hog and bust out some sweet ass wheelies. I bet all the chicks will be impressed, and I finally wo n't be a disappointment to my dad! *
Jeff continued to eat his Lo Mein. It tasted good. Really good. Almost too good. But not really, it was actually just good enough for a 20 % tip, although the waitress had absolutely nothing to do with the quality of the food. Jeff asked for the check and the waitress obliged, and Jeff put his credit card in the little transparent pocket they have for credit cards.
*These are just perfect for holding credit cards! *
He stumbled putting the card in the first time, but it was ok because no one saw him. The waitress took the bill and returned it to him, just as she was supposed to do. She dropped him a fortune cookie and said `` Is your name Jeff? Cause you're kind of a jackass. I bet you ca n't do sweet ass wheelies on your hog.'' Jeff grabbed the fortune cookie, looked her right in the eye ( singular, she was wearing an eyepatch ), and said,
`` Just. You. Watch.''
So Jeff took off, galavanting outside to his Harley. Jeff was the man. He could n't be stopped. He huffed, he puffed, and he howled. The bike screamed to life. Jeff took out his sunglasses and slowly put them on while feathering the throttle like a smooth jazz musician.
`` Later babycakes, I've got a deal at Frank's.'' Jeff gunned the engine, and the bike roared to life. The bike lifted off into the wheelie of all wheelies. Jeff felt a tingling sensation in his small testicles, the feeling he lived every day for. The bike rode off into the sunset as a cliche that could not be stopped.
Around fourish miles later, Jeff gently let off the throttle and ended his wheelie.
*My favorite part was the whole thing. * Jeff thought with a smirk.
Taking his sunglasses off and putting them into a special microfiber cloth case, Jeff surveyed the environment. An abandoned warehouse with a sign out front that read:
Frank's
( Where deals take place )
*Thank God for GPS, otherwise I never would have found this place. *
Jeff walked towards the opening of the warehouse, a slow and casual stride that made him look badass to onlookers. As he rounded the corner in the warehouse, he heard a loud gunshot. Jeff spun around, dual magnums in hand. Unfortunately, the source of the gunshot likely came from Jeff's harley falling over onto the asphalt.
*Damn kickstand is so tricky. Got ta remember next time I come to one of these warehouse deals. *
Jeff put his condoms back in his pockets and moved on. He walked by the Gulfstream IV jet parked just inside the warehouse, wondering why anyone would park a jet in Frank's warehouse. As he approached, the door to the jet opened and out walked a man in an eyepatch.
`` Excellent. He has arrived. And you must be Jeff, yes?''
`` HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!?!'' Jeff howled at the oddly familiar man.
The man stared down Jeff in an attempt at dominance, but Jeff had heavy metal pumping in his brain and could not be stopped. The man walked up to Jeff, slowly but assuredly.
`` Jeff. I've been waiting for this day for a long time. Did you not recognize your own sister at the restaurant?''
Jeff squinted his eyes in silent shock. `` What? But then...''
The pregnant pause went on for an eternity, a solid 25-30 seconds.
`` Papa?'' Jeff asked.
The man in the eyepatch nodded slightly, and gestured towards Jeffs right pocket. Jeff pulled out his magnum condom and stared at his father with a confused look. The man shook his head and gestured again to Jeff's pockets. Jeff reached within and pulled out his fortune cookie. His mind went blank as he read the words:
You are just part of a shitty story. You are not even real you dumb fuck.
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[ WP ] You 're the first human in 1,000 years to develop magical power . A dragon offers to take you on as an apprentice ... and wo n't take no for an answer
| “ Mom! I ’ m home! ” I called out into the warm darkness.
**STOMP. **
**STOMP. STOMP. **
**STOMP. STOMP. STOMP. **
“ Lynda! Welcome home! ” Mom roared at me and scooped me up into a hug. I nuzzled her scales. “ So, how was school today? ” She asked me as she sat down with a loud thump.
For as long as I remembered, I had been living in this serene forest just a stone ’ s throw away from an equally peaceful town. It would have been a boring life, I suppose if not for a certain fact that annoyed me so.
“ It was alright…I guess. ” I looked up at Mom and sighed. Once again, I had messed up in school. It was a bad habit of mine.
“ What happened? It is alright Lynda, you can tell me. ” Mom tried to give me a comforting smile but with her limited range of facial expression, it just came across as a toothy one.
“ You know the new guy I told you about? ” I started.
“ Marcus, was it? ” Mom replied.
“ Yes! That guy! Mom, do you know how irritating is he!? He kept teasing me about living in the ‘ haunted ’ forest! And then he…he insulted you! ” Before I knew it, I was rambling about the day ’ s events with a passion. “ He said that you are a monster! And that isn ’ t true! ” Who gave him the right to call my mother a dragon! **Who!? I hate him, I hate him, I hat-**
*** “ LYNDA, CALM DOWN THIS INSTANCE! ” ***
“ M-mom? Ah…I lost control again…didn ’ t I? ” I could vaguely make out the sound of something splashing against my mother ’ s emerald scales. Every time someone talked badly about her, it seems I just…explode. I could not help it, and I probably never will.
“ Yes, yes you did. ” Mother exhaled loudly. She placed me on her back, between her wings. She continued, “ Thank you. ”
“ Wha- “ I did not expect that.
“ For defending me. However, not everyone has magic like you do. As you know, with great power comes great responsibility. Therefore, as the sole user of magic in the world, you have the greatest responsibility of them all. I think I neglected to teach you that…I let you play too much. I am sorry. ” She rose off her hind limbs and with gravity ’ s influence, I ended up sprawling on the ground.
“ Mom! No, don ’ t say that, it ’ s my fault! ” I cried as I stared up at Mom.
“ Maybe it is. ”
“ Huh? ” Once again, that was not what I was expecting. Oddly enough, through my tears, I could have sworn she had given me a smirk.
“ Maybe it is but it is also mine. Therefore, allow me to relieve you of some responsibility, Lynda. Right now, you are my precious and most dear daughter. However, with your magic growing like it is, there is only one way to solve that problem of yours. It has been awhile since I done this, but… ” She paused in thought, as if she was unsure of herself.
“ I-I trust you, Mom. I love you! So just tell me…how to I get my magic under control? ” I dusted myself off as I stood up, gazing up at her with determination in my eyes. She didn ’ t need to hesitate. She just needed to trust me back. I would do anything to break this horrid habit of mine.
“ Very well, Lynda, become my apprentice in the magical arts. ”
Without hesitation, I agreed.
What?
Why wouldn ’ t I agree? Even in the slim chance I didn ’ t, she would never take no as an answer anyways. After all, she was my beloved dragon of a mother.
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[ WP ] A device is created to telepathically communicate with plants . They 're sentient and can feel pain . You 're an old man trying to mow his god damn lawn and a bunch of local protesters show up to stop you .
| `` Feel their pain! Hear their cries! Grass Assassin! Grass Assassin!''
Melvin had his headphones on, listening to *Frank Sinatra's Greatest Hits* at full blast to drown out the shrill, incessant cries coming from all directions.
A middle-aged man carrying a sign that read `` Citizens for Chlorophyll'' seemed on the verge of tears. `` How dare you deprive them of their lives! Have you no shame?''
Melvin hummed along to the chorus of `` Young at Heart,'' continuing his perfect straight-line path -- perhaps even showing off a bit. He was about to reach the halfway mark when a pair of feet appeared inches away from the mower's blades. Strongly tempted to run them over, Melvin instead removed his headphones and pressed pause on his Walkman.
`` Yeah, OK. How much do you want?''
The sign-wielding man stood firmly with his hands on his hips, then sniffled and produced a bizarre-looking device from his back pocket. It was a tiny satellite dish, polished and silver-handled yet still giving the impression of a rejected B-movie prop.
`` Adjust your hearing aids and listen up, murderer.'' The man clicked a switch on the side of the handle and the dish whirred to life. High-pitched, barely intelligible squeals sprang forth at a rapid pace, contributing to Melvin's already terrible migraine.
`` Laura... I long only to taste the sweet nutrients of the soil one last time with you in my arms...''
`` Oh, God, he got the dandelions! *He got the dandelions! *''
`` I'm just a weed tryin' to make a living... I did n't mean to hurt nobody.''
Melvin raised an eyebrow and adjusted his hearing aid. A few blades of grass seeming to be humming `` Nearer, My God to Thee'' barbershop-quartet style.
The protester clicked off the satellite dish. `` Now you see the chaos you have wrought. To these poor plants, you are their God, and today God has not been merciful.''
Melvin coughed. `` It's gon na grow back.''
The protester frowned. `` Yes, but --''
`` It's gon na. Grow. Back.''
`` Is it worth causing such fear and distress in the very hearts and minds of these poor plants, only to give them hope and tear it away from them the next time you mow?''
`` Yeah. I mean, it looks pretty nice, do n't you think?''
`` I hope you're happy, Melvin Howell. One day, when the plants decide to take a stand, your house will be the first to be devoured.''
`` I mean, I'm just gon na keep cutting the grass. I do n't let it grow to the point of taking over. What do you do?''
The protester looked at the ground. `` We, uh, we do n't really have lawns. We're from the Blackwood Village Apartments.''
`` All right, then. If you get a house, you'll feel the same way. Have a nice day.'' He put his headphones back on and continued to mow, humming merrily.
The protester hung his head in defeat and gestured to the gathered volunteers. `` Let's try next door.''
***
Later that afternoon, Melvin drove to Wanda's Garden Shop and bought a chrysanthemum for the front porch. He'd never been much of a gardener, but he took better care of it than anything else he'd ever purchased.
He was alone, after all. If we was going to be a murderer once a week, might as well give something a good life.
***
*Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more of my stories, and sign up to volunteer with Citizens for Chlorophyll, check out /r/GigaWrites! *
|
[ WP ] The only reason that humans die , no matter how , is because they suddenly realize 'The Meaning '
| As I write more about that time of my life, about that person I used to be, I never cease to be amazed by the differences in our perspectives. How, had I known what I know now, I would've had an arsenal of alternative paths to choose. It's in no way practical to regret my actions, I know that. But there's an element of my thoughts that aches with a dull unease that I'm unsure if I'll ever get over.
For example - take my self-diagnosed `` existential crisis''. If only I had known what I know now, I'd have been able to see that - wait a moment. I feel, just now, like I had a glimpse of something wondrous. Let me see if I can follow that to its source this will probably just be stream of consciousness from this point because if I think about what I wanted and my values but my values never served me and typically were my father's rather than my own and I did find direction after that point but did I ever find the answer to that ultimate question? I feel like it's just lurking there out of sight and I just need to clear away the fog and
oh
|
[ WP ] The year is 2042 . New settlers on Mars are horrified to learn that nuclear war has begun on Earth .
| Our'settlement' was purely a trial. There were 11 of us, all with slightly different backgrounds. An engineer, an environmentalist, a biologist, a survival expert, etc. Our little group was testing the feasibility of life on Mars. The goal was to spend 6 months there, slowly weaning off of the materials we had brought, with the final month to be spent completely self-sustained. Little did we know how important our trial would be.
24 days after we landed and entered our small settlement, we all sat down for our daily video conference with the rest of our team on Earth. These would always start with the business, what we had been doing, what developments had been made, etc. We had been with our team long enough that the group of the 20 or so of us had become pretty good friends. We could tell as soon as the video was up and running that something was wrong.
`` Good morning,'' I said tentatively. `` Is everything okay?''
`` Umm, not exactly,'' one of the Earth Corps teammates said. `` There is..well things have gotten kind of tense here.''
When we left, we knew there was political tension, and there were talks of countries prepping for nuclear war, but it was mostly media speculation. We had no idea how serious things had gotten. Our teammates had decided not to tell us, because they did n't want to add any undue stress, but things had reached a breaking point.
`` We received word this morning that the US Military was warning everyone to stay indoors today, they are anticipating a nuclear attack.''
Silence. It lasted only a moment, but that moment seemed to stretch on and on, allowing each of us to think about our friends and families, and if they were in targeted areas.
`` What does that mean?'' One of my crew asked.
`` Well, it means that peace talks have failed for the last time, and we do n't know what will happen next. It could all die out, but it does n't seem likely...'' His voice trailed off as we heard a gut-wrenching, high-pitched scream from somewhere on Earth.
There had been an attack. Los Angeles. Our team all stood up. There was a frantic conversation, that ended with them saying we would get more information as quickly as they could send it, but they had to go. Naturally they were in a vulnerable position, being part of the space program, and they needed to get to a safe location.
The silence that set in was nothing like the earlier silence. We all looked around, no one wanting to speak first, yet each of us inwardly wishing for the silence to end.
I stood up, `` Well, now our mission is more important than ever. Let's get to work.''
|
[ WP ] A group of researchers run their submarine aground at the bottom of the ocean when they hit an air bubble impossibly tethered to the ocean floor . The real adventure begins when they open the hatch and step outside .
| “ We ’ re going to die down here. ” Erin said.
Water slowly dripped from the cavern ’ s ceiling into the shallow puddle below. Erin sat with her back against the wall, arms wrapped around her knees.
“ No we aren ’ t. Now be quiet or they will find us. ” He said harshly.
“ What ’ s the point? ” Her voice rose and echoed off the wet stone walls.
Mark ’ s fists clenched tightly as he stared at Erin. A low chorus of whistles and clicks made his head turn toward the narrow corridor.
“ They ’ ve found us. ” Mark said. He rushed to Erin ’ s side and grabbed her arm to lift her. She tore it away from him and wrapped it tightly around her knees again.
“ Suit yourself. ” He said and turned to flee deeper into the dark twisting corridors of the cave.
It wasn ’ t long before Erin ’ s terrified screams caught up to him. The crew of four was now a crew of one.
-- -
“ Current depth? ”
“ Just shy of five miles Captain. ” First Mate Erin responded.
“ We are about to break records crew. ” Captain Mark Durham said to his gathered crew. The bridge of the Descent was cramped with four people. They barely had enough room at their stations without rubbing elbows with the person next to them. After five long years of planning, financial hoops that they leapt through they were about to realize their dream. The crew of the Descent would reach a depth that no man had ever achieved.
“ Sir, I ’ m getting a strange reading on radar. ” Wallace said.
“ What is it? ”
“ I ’ m not sure. ” He said.
The Descent drifted silently through the black waters. Small bio luminescent creatures flickered in the darkness.
“ It looks like a wall? ” He said scratching his head.
“ Slow engines, I want us crawling. ”
The engineer pulled back on the throttle and tried to reduce their speed.
“ Sir, we are not slowing down. ” Darrel said quickly.
“ Engines full reverse! ”
“ It ’ s not slowing us down! Something is pulling us forward! ” Darrel shouted.
“ Crew brace for impact! ”
The crew scrambled and sat in their seats. Harnesses were buckled tightly. Wallace ’ s eyes were locked on his screens. The submarine quickly approached the pale green wall. The round tip of the sub breached the wall. Nothing happened.
“ Wallace? ” The Captain asked around clenched teeth.
“ I don ’ t understand… ” The sub suddenly pitched forward.
Erin screamed as the sub dropped like a stone. A coffee cup sailed past her head and smashed into the roof breaking into small shards of ceramic. They fell for a few short seconds. The bottom of the sub connected with the ground in an ear piercing screech. The outer hull crumpled like an aluminum can. Wallace ’ s face whipped into the corner of his computer console. His skull collapsed from the impact, blood poured over his keyboard.
Lights flickered and went out. The crew was enveloped in darkness.
“ Report. ”
Crew members unbuckled harnesses and patted themselves down checking for injuries. Some had small cuts from debris.
“ Sir, Wallace…is dead. ” Darrel said stepping away from Wallace. Hastily wiping the blood from his hands.
“ Find out what the hell just happened! ” Mark said trying to keep himself together. He pressed his shaking hands against his sides and took a deep breath.
Flashlights flared to life around the cabin. Erin gasped as her beam illuminated Wallace ’ s body. Thick drops of blood were creating a pool underneath his seat. Darrel peered out the main hatch and shouted for everyone to come join him.
“ I don ’ t think we are underwater anymore. ”
“ That ’ s impossible, of course we are! ” Erin said.
“ No, of course we are UNDER water, what I ’ m saying is that we are not touching water… ” His voice trailed off.
Mark pushed through the crew to look out the hatch ’ s window. Confirming Darrel ’ s suspicion he spun the heavy wheel opening the hatch. Water didn ’ t rush in to fill the sub.
“ How? ” Erin asked as Mark stepped out of the sub. The sub had been steered directly into a massive air pocket. The largest Mark had ever heard of. Their flashlights could barely pierce the gloom.
“ Everyone out, we are here to explore and further science. Well, here is the perfect opportunity. ” He said gruffly.
The crew spread out. Each man and woman alone with their thoughts. They each tried to cope with the fact that they were most likely going to die at the bottom of the ocean. Erin whispered a prayer to herself. Her light cut a swath through the darkness. The dark stone underneath her feet was like nothing she had ever seen before. Like rough cloudy obsidian. Darrel shouted in excitement. Mark and Erin rushed to see what was wrong.
“ Have you ever seen anything like this before? ” He pointed at a large stone arch. It was carved out of the same dark stone as the floor. Intricate carvings were etched into the entire arch.
“ Why is there an arch standing by itself down here? And what language is that? ” Mark asked.
He walked around in the large arch in a circle. The carvings were present on the other side.
“ It looks almost like Latin but it definitely isn ’ t. ”
Mark reached his hand out and pressed it against the dark stone. It was warm to the touch.
“ I think this is the exact center of the air bubble. ” Mark said to himself.
“ Whatever it is, it ’ s ancient. ” Darrel replied.
A low whistle and click came from somewhere in the darkness.
“ What was that? ” Erin whispered.
Mark began backing away from where the sound came from. Erin and Darrel followed quietly. The whistle and click came again. Louder, more urgent. A whistle responded off to their right. A click came from their left. Mark ’ s light reflected off of something. Metallic scales and sharp claws was all he could see before it backed out of the light. They were being surrounded.
“ Run. ”
They turned and sprinted. There was nowhere to run but it felt better than waiting in Mark ’ s opinion. Their lights bobbed up and down as they ran. Darrel turned his head to see if he could see their pursuers. His foot found air instead of stone and he his body pitched forward. Screaming he tumbled down rough stone stairs. Mark and Erin raced down the stairs after him. They found him in a heap at the base of the stairs. Sweat beading on his brow and his face twisted in pain.
“ My leg. ” He groaned, clutching his right leg. Bone protruded out of the skin. He lay his head back and shut his eyes. “ Run, I ’ ll try to slow them down. ”
Mark put a hand on Darrel ’ s shoulder.
“ I ’ m sorry. ” He turned and fled down a narrow stone corridor. Erin following closely behind him. Mark didn ’ t know how long they ran through the twisting endless cavern. Erin was slowly lagging behind. Her breaths coming in short sharp gasps. The air was thin and Mark was feeling the effects as well.
“ We have to keep going Erin. ” He pleaded.
“ I just need to sit down. I can ’ t breathe. ” She gasped out painfully.
She sat down heavily against the stone wall and wrapped her arms around her knees.
Mark felt every death of his crew over and over as he ran. He was the Captain, they were his responsibility. He came to a stop in front of a set of stairs leading up. His mind reeled. It didn ’ t matter which direction he ran there was no escape. But up was better than being stuck in these tight tunnels. He came out of the tunnel near the carved stone arch. It ’ s height breaking up the bleak flat stone floor. Whistles and clicks echoed up the stairs behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He spun and flashed the light down the stairs. Climbing the stairs on all fours was a creature Mark could not believe. Its hunched body was covered in thick metallic scales. Long razor sharp claws extended from multi jointed arms. Mark ’ s eyes met the creatures. Two perfectly black orbs in the face of a woman. Her dark hair spilled down her scaled back. She opened her mouth revealing long black fangs. She leapt forward with amazing speed claws flashing. They tore deep chunks out of Mark ’ s chest. He spun and ran toward the arch. His weak oxygen deprived legs were barely moving. He could hear the creature ’ s claws scraping against the stone in pursuit. Wheezing and fighting for air he ran as fast as he could through the carved arch.
Sunlight blinded him as he stumbled over sand. He tripped and landed face first on the beach. Squinting against the light he looked around. He looked back over his shoulder. A worn and weathered stone arch stood in the sand. Large palm trees swayed in a gentle breeze behind it. Birds chirped and played in the dense jungle in front of him. He stood and brushed the sand from his clothes. I made it. I ’ m alive! His heart leapt into his throat as he choked back tears of joy. He felt shame that he was happy he was alive and his crew was not.
A song drifted on the breeze. He turned his head toward the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He had not seen her before but a woman sat at the edge of the beach. Her long legs resting in a shallow pool. He stumbled toward her. Her wonderful song filled his mind. Mark ’ s eyes focused on her long dark hair that flowed down her bare back. His hand gently reached out and touched her shoulder.
The singing stopped and she slowly turned toward Mark. Her dark, black eyes focused on him. She smiled revealing long black needle like fangs. He screamed as her long claws tore into him.
The sand hungrily soaked up his blood as she consumed his body.
-- -
Check out /r/Written4reddit if you enjoyed this!
|
[ IP ] Angels
| Raph smiled. Caspeella could tell by the sound. She reached out and took Raph's hand.
`` He's almost done.'' Raph told her. Caspeella shrugged. Raph had heard her do it enough he recognized the sound of her rustling feathers and knew it to be a shrug.
`` Light? He's really going to give us light?'' Caspeella asked. Raph grabbed, taking her in his arms. He ran his fingers over the smoothness of her face, tracing her cheek and lips. He kissed her lips.
`` He's giving us light.'' Caspeella whispered. `` No more seeing with our fingers. No more holding each other and imagining the look of love. I love you.'' She whispered.
`` I know.'' He swallowed hard, licking his lips.
`` He says there will be colors when the light comes on. He said that the darkness will hide from the light. He says the light with splinter into different hues, and we will know beauty beyond all we've ever known. He says the light will bring our eyes riches they have never touched. He says the light will bring the universe life and life will bring the universe love.'' She spun in a circle through the darkness. Her wings caught the breeze and lifted her into the air. `` We will have love.'' She sang.
`` We already have love.'' Raph whispered. `` What if the light changes everything. We do n't need it. We have each other. We do n't know the light.'' He said.
`` He says we do. He says we need it to chase away the demons so that his next creation can survive. We'll take ups swords and spears like Michael and harry them, and they will hide from the light, and we will have our love without them to spoil it.'' She told him jubilantly.
`` What if it changes... us. What if you do n't like my eyes or my face or my wings. What if you do n't love me when there is light. What if it changes our love?'' Raph asked.
`` I have these fears too. We have to trust him. He is a kind. Why would he create all this? He's filled the void with echoes and sounds and things. Remember how it was before? No. He is good. The light is good. We will have our love.'' Caspeella declared. `` He would not break up something so pure.'' She reached out and carressed his face, hugging his head to her naked breast.
`` It's happening.'' She whispered, feeling the change. In the distance she saw the glow as first one star ignited and then the next. The light jumped from star to star, blinking on and filling the void with its blessing.
`` It's beautiful.'' Raph whispered.
`` Like he told us.'' Caspeella told him quietly.
`` Like he told us.'' Raph agreed. He reached out and took her hand.
The stars were bursting into flame faster and faster. The light spread and raced, slicing through the darkness. Their star was the last to ignite. They cried out as the light collided with their weakened eyes. Caspeella hugged him, drawing him down to protect him.
`` I love you.'' She sighed into his ear.
`` I know.'' He whispered back. `` Together?'' He asked. He felt her nod. The pulled apart. `` On the count of three.'' He suggested.
`` One.'' Caspeella announced.
`` Two.'' Raph called out.
`` Three.'' The said in unison, opening their eyes together.
`` No.'' Caspeella cried out.
`` You're beautiful.'' He told her through his watering eyes. The light pressed down on him, weighing upon his wings.
`` No.'' She said again, reaching out for him.
`` The light changes everything.'' Raph whimpered. `` I told you it would change everything.''
`` NO!'' She shouted as the light stripped his black wings and set his black skin to smoking. `` Flee. Hide from the light. Go.'' She screamed. `` GO! The darkness has to hide from the light.'' She told him.
`` I do n't want to.'' He said, watching the embers form in the cracks the light was carving into his flesh. His wings smoked. `` We were happy.'' He screamed at the universe. We. Were. HAPPY!'' He bellowed, even as his feathers burned away.
`` No.'' She bawled. `` NO. We were happy.'' Caspeella declared, taking her lovers hand. Her touch made him burn hotter. The light inside her was like torch and burned his demon's flesh away. She cradled his bones as he collapsed. She felt the tread of angels at her back. The gathered to mourn her loss. `` We were happy.'' She screamed at Michael. Gabriel stepped forward, laying a quieting hand upon her shoulder.
`` The light changes everything.'' Gabriel told her quietly. `` It had to be. God said, let there be light. We are the light. We have to be the light. What comes next needs us.''
`` NO!'' She roared. `` I was happy!'' Her eyes, once blue, darkened even as the other angels looked on. `` He had no right.'' Michael reached out for her, but she turned away. Her wings and skin greyed like ash, and the further she fled from them, the darker she became. `` WE WERE HAPPY!'' She roared, breaking planets with her rage.
`` This had to happen. Right?'' Michael asked of Gabriel.
`` For there to be life, there had to be light,'' was his answer. `` I will miss her.'' Gabriel lamented.
`` And, I fear when next we meet.'' Michael sighed, staring at the flaming sword in his hand. `` They really were happy.'' He said before he left. Gabriel and the other angels simply nodded in agreement.
`` I was happy too.'' Gabriel mumbled under his breath. `` We all were.''
|
[ WP ] You 've been playing with equations in a notebook and have , if you 're right , just discovered time travel . You turn the page and are greeted with one word : `` DO N'T ''
| `` Do n't?'' muttering under my breath.
I'm not stupid, despite what most of the city thinks. Crazy Caroline they call me. But I know what this means. Somewhere in all that is about to happen I decide it needs to be undone. I ca n't possibly know why. Was it even me who left the message? What if I can go forward with my plan and change my course for the better?
I have come too far to give up now. Throwing down my book, I furiously fly around my lab. Here to there. This piece on that. I assemble like a mad man; like the mad one they believe me to be. The mechanical mess grows into a monster until, hours later ( maybe days, I've lost track ), it stands before me. I pause to admire the glinting, gold machine until I can no longer contain myself.
`` There's no time to waste!'' Enthusiasm bursts from my core.
Metal strikes loudly on the concrete floor as my tools fly from my hands. Leaping into my new ride I begin to adjust course. Before I can decide where to go, I remember the warning. In my own brilliance I concoct a fool-proof plan. I spin the dial at random, letting it stop wherever it pleases. Without looking at my destination I hit the gas.
The world dissolves around me. I spin and zip through a black void. My journey seems to take hours until, `` At last! ``, I halt. My lab slowly comes back into view. Have I travelled far into the future? Years into the past? What kind of world will be waiting for me outside? Who are its inhabitants? I step out of my machine and dust myself off.
As my eyes scan the room, suddenly I am made aware of a figure. Lurking in a shadowy corner he steps toward me. His face looks familiar but I know not who he is. Now within a foot from me I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to the punch. His only words to me are, `` Number 37, complete.''
Swiftly his hand flies from behind his back and the heavy metal object he concealed strikes my temple. I fall to the floor as the world grows black once again. The confusion loses to unconsciousness.
After some time that feels like forever, I come to. A bit disoriented, I rise to my feet, struggling to maintain my balance. My eyes drift around my lab, with fuzzy thoughts that vaguely resemble a dream. Regaining my composure I am reminded of why I went through all this trouble in the first place. My primary objective: to master time travel. And this time I know I've done it. I grab my notes and browse through the pages. The equations all complete. I flip past the last page and see a note scrawled in red ink.
`` Do n't?'' muttering under my breath.
**EDIT: ** I changed the words of future dude to change the plot from a man getting joy out of hitting an idiot over and over again to getting free labor and time machines.
|
[ WP ] A thousand years in the future mankind has reached the stars , but in doing so we came to realize one of our greatest fears : We are the only intelligent civilization in the universe .
| [ WP ] We were safely in orbit around Planet HR 8832c. It looked as Earthlike as we expected; extensive oceans, green and brown continents, snow-covered mountains, fluffy white clouds scattered in familiar patterns. Alfa upped the magnification on the viewing scope. Automatic cameras were feeding similar data into the computers and they would provide a definitive answer after about ten orbits. But of course we wanted to see for ourselves. That ’ s what thinking beings do; curiosity is always a by-product of intelligence. Or so we assume.
Nothing. Not a road, building, or plot of cultivated ground. There were meadows and fecund lakes, but no sign even of grazing animals. No birds passed through our view. Alan the biochemist observed, “ There ’ s nothing going on down there that can ’ t be driven by bacteria. They ’ re both feeding the plants and consuming the dead plant matter. The atmosphere consists of nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide and traces of sulfur. Nothing that could be a synthetic or industrial gas or contaminant. ”
It wasn ’ t unexpected to us. A generation ago a mission similar to ours had scanned all twenty-three planets of the Trappist-1 system, and returned ( faster than light ) with the surprising result that none of them had intelligent life or any complex life forms that could potentially evolve into such. I remember being a schoolboy watching the live press conference, and having my hopes dashed. In the fifteen centuries since Galileo, every generation had asked the great question, and we thought space exploration would have detected something by now. Were we not asking the right question?
Evolutionary science had not advanced as fast as space science. We ’ d developed space-based telescopes that could resolve details of planets smaller than Earth and hundreds of light years away. We now know more about a hundred thousand planets than we had known about Mars in the twentieth century. We had a thousand candidates for intelligent life, though we could not pick up radio signals from any of them. There could have been many reasons for that. When FTL space travel became a reality and was proven safe and practical, the Trappist-1 mission was chosen because of the multitude of planets to explore. There was every indication that many of them would harbor life. But nothing very satisfying was found. Slime molds, stromatolites, mosses and ferns, all surprising since these planets were much older than Earth. Could we have come too late? Could these life forms be remnants of formerly verdant worlds? But even landing expeditions found no buildings, no artifacts.
So evolutionary science received a new impetus. Long hampered by the relative difficulty of looking into the past, we now urgently wanted to find what had sparked intelligent life on Earth. Great advances were made and some startling lab experiments produced surprising results. Our expedition to HR 8832 was a year away from launch when the discovery of the Prometheus impact site in Antarctica turned everything upside down. It was conclusively dated at 540 million years ago – precisely the time of the Cambrian explosion of life. And the discoveries in chemistry were astounding. There was no doubt that the impact, attributed to a massive comet, sparked the development of complex life on Earth.
Our mission was postponed a year, while astronomers tried to determine whether the HR 8832 system could have comets. It seemed unlikely. Meanwhile, an interdisciplinary team of scientists recalculated the odds of intelligent life with the new knowledge that our existence was entirely due to Prometheus. They determined that it went from 67 % ( in the Milky Way ) to 0.0001. Practically nil. Our expedition took off anyway because HR 8832c looked so green and white and blue.
Surprisingly, we did find as we approached that the HB 8832 system had a modest population of comets. That had given us some hope, but now it was all dashed. The computers came back with the expected result: nothing. We made a landing, just to see what it looked like and to have ground-level views and samples to take home. Emerging on the shore of a tidal estuary, which ought to be a prime site for life, we kicked desultorily at the drab mosses. Alan dug up a soil sample.
“ Mostly sandy, only about 5 % organic matter, ” he said. “ Not a worm or a bug. Probably plenty of bacteria though. ”
We stayed until well after sunset, just to make the trip seem worthwhile. The air was pleasant to breathe and the sky was beautiful. Alfa pointed to a pair of bright stars. “ That ’ s Sol, and Alpha Centauri. Odd that they should be so close together. ”
“ Earth ’ s up there, ” I said wistfully. “ I miss it. It took us ten years to get here and it will take us ten years to get home. ”
“ Would you have come if you knew this was all we were going to find? ”
“ I don ’ t think I need to tell you the answer. ”
|
[ WP ] A crew of a nuclear submarine find themselves in the golden age of piracy
| `` I would like a letter of marque.''
The man before me spoke in oddly accented English. I lazily ran my eyes over him. His clothes were unfashionable baggy, and horribly dull. They were colored in browns and greens with no real pattern to them. Probably just another commoner.
`` And why would I give *you* a letter of marque?'' I asked with an idle flick of my fingers.
`` My ship, the USS Illi...'' he paused for a moment with a far away look on his face `` The Illinois can easily deal with any number of French and Spanish merchant ships. This would take a great deal of pressure off of your own ships, giving you a monopoly on trade.''
He stood in front of me, stiffly formal, yet somehow screaming arrogance.
`` Easy to say. Where is your proof?''
He smiled. A hard smile. Perhaps I had underestimated him? He spoke at his bracelet.
`` Illinois, full rise. Give them a show.'' he pointed out into the harbor where a dozen of my finest warships sat at anchor. From between them a pitch black ship rose from the depths with a spout of water. Panic struck the warships at the sudden appearance.
`` Your majesty, the pirate vessel Illinois.''
``... you will have your letter of marque.''
|
[ WP ] Your left hand has been trying to kill you since you were a child . You managed to keep it subdued ... until now .
| `` Now listen Mr.Johnson, I need you to start concentrating on your breathing. You need to breath very slowly. Move as little as possible, We've set up these pillows for you to relax on while the technicians try to reverse the machine off your arm.''
`` O... ok...''
`` Good, now, the slow breathing will hopefully slow down your heart rate and if the press has n't punctured an arterial vein, and has just sliced your hand, you'll bleed out slower.''
Great, just great, are n't paramedics supposed to be reassuring?
Fuck. I think i've lost this time. The little fucker won. I've been fighting him for 20 years. His sudden jerky movements while driving, his fondness for dragging a pillow over my head while i'm asleep....all of it failed. That little demon working my left hand has finally won.
`` Alright, now i'm going to administer a relaxant as well as an intravenous coagulant complex. Now, while i take your vitals again i'm going to ask you a few questions about your.... Mr.Johnson! stay with me man, keep your eyes open and focused on me, what day of the week is it?''
`` O..ok''
Bastard, i do n't even want to be looking at you let alone answer your fucking questions. I can barely stand the pain, just let me pass out. I ca n't believe i lost focus for one split second on such a dangerous piece of machinery and he took advantage of it. He must have known two back to back shifts would make me extremely tired, and took the opportunity. The worst part of this shit, is that i will forever be known as the guy who got taken out by an industrial steel pot mold, not a possessed hand.
`` Listen...''
`` Yes Mr.Johnson''
`` Listen... my hand did this to me, i was in the safe zone marked off in red here, and it swung out on it's own and got caught in the sprocket latch up there. That's what happened and you got ta tell my family that. This is a fucking mess i'm going to die!''
`` Sir, we're going to get you out of here. ``
`` I was here for 20 minutes before someone called you. I am definitively bleeding from a major vein because that pool of blood by our feet gets bigger every 5 minutes. I'm dying, I know it and you know it, so just stop fucking lying and believe me!''
`` I believe you Mr. Johnson, now please breath slower and breath deeply. It looks like the technicians are figuring it out and when they do i'm going to need you awake and ready to get that arm to the hospital. You mentioned you have a family? Tell me about them.''
Prick. God i hate that professional medical voice. But deep down i'm thankful he's here. The last person i will ever speak with. This pain, it's making me angry at him but, i also love him for some strange reason. If anyone will take my confession it's him.
`` Listen, I do have family and i do n't want them thinking i went out like a punk, taking unnecessary risk and putting them in danger of losing the house. They've got ta know i did my best to stay safe, but it's my hand! It has a mind of its own!''
`` Mr.Johnson, that's not important right now...''
`` Please! Just hear me out''
`` Ok, go ahead i'm listening. I'm going to take your vitals again while you talk. Breath slowly and take your time.''
`` I was kid, i had just started learning about my body. Like most kids you know. I really took what the pastor said about this stuff to heart though, I was sincere, i felt real guilty after i touched myself. Do you believe in God doc?''
`` I hope, if there is a god, he will help us out of this jam Mr. Jonestown.''
`` It's Johnson! How are you supposed to help me if you ca n't remember my fucking name!''
`` It was just part of the vitals test, i'm keeping you on your toes Mr.Johnson''
`` Haha, you prick. Anyways, i was a real innocent kid and one night, i guess God sent a demon to punish me. You got ta tell my family, they know about my demon hand. Promise you'll tell them it was n't completely my fault.''
`` I promise, but you're going to tell them yourself...''
`` My family and I have been through so much, trying to deal with my condition. One doctor my wife found for me, said it was `` Alien Hand syndrome'', have you heard of this? You're into medicine, ever heard of it?''
`` I think so, it's usually from brain damage right?''
`` Yes, that's it. I've never had a brain injury though.''
`` Mr. Johnson i promise to tell your family what you just said, but i need to keep fighting ok?''
`` I'm tired man, tired of fighting my hand. Tired of it torturing my family. Sleeping every night with my hand cuffed to the bed post. Every time i pick up my baby girl i'm afraid he'll decide to drop her. None of those worries anymore. Just so tired. Thanks doc, for being here....i'm going to sleep now...''
`` Mr. Johnson!''
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[ WP ] 5670 A.D. Apollo did n't stop transmitting , but Earth did .
| No one was surprised.
It might have been the seperation that did it. Mitchell, one of the earliest, one of the finest, said it best: `` You develop an instant global consciousness.'' he said. `` From out there,'' he said `` international politics seem so petty''.
It was strange, the pall the past cast on the present, even thousands of years ago, you could hear his words, as he said them, pressed into holes of silica or beams of light, and no one was surprised, really, that the claustrophobic, crowded powderkeg of pressurized records was gone.
How had it gone? Too many options, really. A containment failure at a zero-point energy plant, where another universe came spilling out of a pinhole we made? Grey goo, returning our golden work to base metal? Atomics, then? Nuclear birds coming home to roost?
Or war?
No, not war, not any longer. Peace was a blown glass vase, brimming with poison, and guarded by stern humorless men. There could be no change, *would* be no change. Thousands of years of history, carefully preserved, saw to that.
`` Look at what happened when that was tried!'' they say, the washed-grey men say, `` This happened, and we still have the photos of the bombs, the videos of the children, blistered from the gas! Here, let's look at those. We will play them, on a loop, until you slink away in hot shame for trying to change what we have now.'' This peace, the peace of a man in a minefield, surrounded by pictures of every misstep.
So nothing could change, and nothing would. Earth remained, as perfectly motionless as a tightrope walker who just felt the line quiver.
And some chose to leave. To walk away.
They were the stupid kids. The idiots. The half-baked. And they quietly built their rockets, called Apollo out of tradition, in homage to Mitchell, a saint, they decided, even though the idea of saints was laughable, because he had tried to fly before the wings really even existed. They left at night. They left everything, for the fresh silence of space. They transmitted back, an afterthought, really, as a sop to those who still loved them, the heartbeat of their lonely metal box.
And they listened, and heeded, but only barely, to the flickers behind them as they hurtled away.
The first radio transmission occurred in 1880. That meant that there was a wall of transmissions more than 7000 light-years wide rushing out, pouring into the gaps between the stars, the second Great Deluge drowning the'sinful' celestial quiet, crowding out the x-rays with self-referential ( *reverential? * ) chattering.
When they passed it, Earth was gone. Only their lonely heartbeat remained. And Earth was gone. Nothing on the ansible, nothing cobwebbing their antennas, and in the deepest of ironies, in the void of that endless dark, in their metal box, they breathed deeply.
It was their future now.
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A famous blood mage is brought to this day and age from medieval times . [ WP ]
| The blood mage looked down at the cut open goat, then back up at the people in the room, then back at the goat.
`` Oh, yeah, you know what'' he looked back up to the people in the room `` I see what I did now. Yup, this is my bad''
The people in the room just kept staring. The blood mage looked back to the goat.
`` Oh shit, right, your table, just let me'' he poked around in the goat `` Yeah, no, this'll be cleared up any second now''
`` Why do you talk like us?'' said one of the people
`` What'' said the blood mage, reaching deep into the goats entrails
`` Should n't you be talking…differently''
`` Oh right, yeah, language spell, super useful. There you are you bastard'' the blood mage pulled an organ out of the goat.
`` And what you do is…is magic?'' said another person
`` Well it's not macrame'' said the blood mage, taking a bite out of the organ then wiping it all over his face
`` It's just…well''
`` We're skeptics'' said a third person
`` Oh yeah, what are you skeptical of?'' said the blood mage, moving his hand over the organ while he chanted. It rose out of his hand and floated in the air.
`` The supernatural''
`` Well I guess one of the dangers of asking questions is getting answers'' he pulled another organ out and slid it over his torso, smearing himself with blood, then he held it up `` anyone want this''
The room stared back silently.
`` No?'' he threw it over his shoulder where it floated in place `` Alright, let's try this''
He covered his hands in blood, held them out and chanted some words.
`` Well good luck with your thing'' then he clapped his hands together and him, the goat and the organs disappeared in a flash of light.
`` So next tuesday?''
`` Yup''
Then everyone got up and left.
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[ WP ] In the most beautiful and rich and detailed way possible , describe the person you love .
| He charms the world with a smile. Sweet, unaffected joy radiates in that expression in a way that makes it infectious, impossible to resist. It does n't matter what annoying or thoughtless thing he may have just done. He smiles, and it is a struggle of will to remain stern, to not let the love steal over the anger like the creep of sunlight over the cool earth at dawn. It is a wasted effort. After a moment or two, I find my own lips twitching in response, driven to reflect his expression with a grin of my own. I turn away, but he knows that my anger has evaporated. Rather than gloat, he wraps his arms around me in a fierce hug. He hugs like he means it.
He's gotten too big for my lap, he who once nestled in the crook of my arm like he belonged there. Yet he still tries to find a way to fit, pressing his velvety-plush cheek to mine and stroking my arm carelessly. `` I love you Mommy.'' he whispers. I twine my fingers into his soft curls, each ringlet cascading over my hand in a dark waterfall. `` I love you too, baby.''
How did he get so tall? Soon he'll taller than I am. I find it hard to imagine that one day I'll have to reach up to put a kiss on his cheek. For now, though, as he gazes up at me with eyes so dark they are almost black, I can still hold him. Even if it's just for a little while.
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[ WP ] It turns out the earth is flat after all . Tell me about a day in life of a `` Round Earth Agent '' , a special agent tasked with ensuring the truth is never revealed to the population .
| `` Agent 111.856 passcode 55576523'' I whispered in the middle of the amazon rainforest. In front of my an average looking tree surrounded by others of same appereance opened up allowing me to enter and go deep underground where I would be breifed on my next mission. As my long wait began I recollocted my life.
My childhood I do n't remember I can only assume they erased my memory all for the best. My first memory is awaking underground being briefed on my first mission my age unsure my name I did n't know my passport I was given said I was Adam Smith age 27 but I can safely assume this was n't my true identity.
I spent the next years of my life protecting a secret, why it was a secret I'm unsure. I'm smart enough not to ask questions, people who ask questions dissapear I know I had dissapeared a few dissenters. Why were we keeping the fact that the earth was flat from the general population I have some ideas but generally I couldnt care less I liked living not knowing kept me alive simple as that.
My last mission was a routine worm hole check, the main one of course located in the pacific ocean. Why it was made to make average travelers appear to go around in a circle thus going around our flat earth I again assume it better not to know. As my thoughts ran the elevator stopped opening into a room filled with advanced technology, super computers, teleportation devices and other technology held from the genpop. As I turned around walking towards the mission room my specially made deflection device using magnetic fields diverted the ray beam destroying a computer that sat at a ninety degree angle to me. Sure following orders kept me alive but I was n't stupid enough not to make a backup plan which in this instance consisted of technology based around immunity to their cancellation of technology. This was developed by the leisure time granted to me for being a trusted puppet who never tried to advance or disobey and was thought of after seeing multiple escape attempts stopped by easily destroying others devices used to escape. I immediantly teleported myself to NYC. They had made a miscalculation life was what I valued my existence continued and now the only way for me to ensure that was to destroy those who made me. I took a deep breath as I walked down broadway.
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[ WP ] You 're the first person to actually meet God . He is nothing like what is described .
| God is n't the almighty, not a being of supreme
power like great legends portray. His posture is poor, he keeps his hair short, he's pale and skinny. Nothing like the colossal being depicted in great works of art. His bones are glass; he is hollow, he is weak. Our leader, the creator of all things, he is feeble. We are more powerful than he is, now.
He tells me of how he got this way. Once, yes, he was capable of striking fear in those who worshipped him. He was strong, he was charming, he was in charge. But not enough worship him to keep him in such a state. Those who call themselves Christians know nothing of his intentions for earth; they weaken him with their sin. God is a husk of what he once was. He is a flower left in the desert. He is nothing at all.
He tries to respond to prayers, but so few are worthy of his glorious gifts. The Pope is one of the few he believes are still faithful to him, his prayers are listened to. All leaders of his faith prior spewed lies, led his cherished people to scorn others and condemn those who are different. God does n't approve of that. Francis understands. He has love in his heart for all things, he tries to steer his followers to the right path. Francis will get a spot by his side in Heaven.
The Lord is old. His bones creek when he walks, his chairs never get a chance to breathe. No one around him seems to care much for him. They let him rot, they let him watch his beautiful world, the one he worked so hard to create, go to waste. His biggest mistake was putting people on it. His creation was so grand, his biggest success. Now it's polluted, dirty. He's ashamed of it.
God does not consider him to be in power anymore. He handles nothing by himself. It's those that he has created that he leaves in charge. He just hopes that his children know the right direction to follow. He's too tired to help them anymore.
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[ WP ] An island that is the safest place on the planet . Humans live in complete harmony with nature . Photos have leaked , sparking interest from tourist groups . You are tasked with filling the internet with misinformation about the pics and island , to keep people in fear of it .
| Headline: Paradise Lost: Lone Survivor tells Her Story of escaping Hell.
An scientist shares her encounter with the island that has been revered by many as an utopia, until now. What was thought to be the lost Garden of Eden by many was revealed to be nothing more than a facade. Dr. Lana Tyler a former geneticist from Harvard who also holds PhD's in anthropology and molecular ecology recounts the horror and atrocities she witnessed firsthand when she and her team were partnered with members of SEAL Team Six and tasked with investigating the island and its inhabitants.
Click for more details....
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[ WP ] You 're a boy in a boy scout uniform that 's been ripped to shreds . Why ?
| `` I like being a boy scout. I like the camping, I like the fishing, I like hanging out my friends, and if you suffer through the boring stuff, every once in a while they even teach you something cool. I really, really just wish we did n't have to bring Jules along. Every time.''
`` Shane, quit picking on your sister,'' said my Dad.
`` It's called boy scouts. **Boy**scouts. If Ricky and I have to let her play Smash bros. with us every time that's fine, we just beat her anyway. But this is the one place she is n't allowed to be, and every time we drag her along she just slows me down and the other kids make fun of me for it. It's not like she wants to come either! Tell him! You've been asking to go home the whole ride here.''
Jules stubbornly shut up for the first time the whole trip.
`` Maybe Jules would like camping more if you stopped picking on her so much. You're her brother, you're supposed to stand up for her. She wo n't be bothering you too long anyway, there's a horse ranch nearby and we're going to go ride one.''
`` Horses!?'' Jules said, sitting up in her seat.
`` That's right. And Shane, if you're nice, maybe I'll let you come too.''
`` There are horses at home,'' I said, annoyed, and to be fair there probably were. Somewhere. Maybe.
`` Well, it does n't matter anyway because we're here. C'mon, help me get the stuff out of the trunk.''
The car creaked to a halt. I spent a few more disappointed moments sitting in the car seat, when Ricky knocked on the window.
`` Dude! Shane! George's dad brought a gun!'' Ricky said, grabbing my arm.
`` Can we see it?!'' I asked, and I promptly forgot my father's request to help him unpack.
George's dad was standing inside a small crowd of scouts, giving a speech. `` Now kids!'' he said, `` remember, safety first!'' and all of the children nodded, despite the completely unsafe things they were thinking about doing not moments before.
`` Did you have to bring the gun?'' called out a mother from the parking lot. I always felt bad for the kids whose moms brought them.
`` Troop leader Chanda said --''
`` I know what Chanda said! But just because you CAN bring a gun does n't mean you should! This trip is supposed to be about wood carving --''
`` Wood carving?'' I asked, `` does that mean we get to use knives? Are we getting totin' chips?''
`` Well,'' said the mother, `` no.'' I looked crestfallen. `` But if you're good, and you all prove you can handle it, you'll get them next trip.''
Ricky and I looked at each other excited. Once he got his totin' chip he would get to carry around a cool dagger his grandpa got while fighting in Korea. I'd seen it, it was huge.
`` Who cares about knifes,'' said George, `` my Dad is going to let me fire a *gun*. He even gave me a box of ammo, look!''
No one really liked George.
`` Dude. We're going to do such a good job,'' I said.
`` I'm going to actually pay attention to the stupid lessons about leaves they teach us,'' said Ricky, which was a major commitment, because leaves are super boring.
`` We got this,'' I said, and we did our secret fist bump.
`` I'm going to get the totin' chip first,'' said Carl from behind us.
`` Nuh uh!'' I answered reflexively.
`` Let it go. He's just trying to make you mad'' said Ricky. I ignored him.
`` Why do n't you go join girl scouts with your little sister?'' asked Carl, successfully making me mad.
`` You are n't allowed to see our secret fist bump!'' I shouted back. Ricky hid his head in embarrassment.
`` After dinner,'' said Carl, `` I'm going to sneak into the woods and practice so I'm sure to get it first.''
`` You do n't even have a knife how are you going to --''
`` SHANE! I told you to help me unpack!'' said my Dad, angry, `` now c'mon!''
That night, after dinner, Ricky and I snuck into the woods. We could n't tell on Carl to scout master Chanda, we were n't squealers. But we were n't about to Carl get a head start on us, either. We'd spend the whole day looking for arrow heads in the woods, and we'd found two that would probably let us practice. One of them was really good, too. But after hiking for 30 minutes, we could n't find Carl anywhere. All we found was an old train car, sitting on the tracks, about 15 minutes from camp.
`` Dude,'' said Ricky, `` is this supposed to be here?''
There was something wrong with that cart. Maybe it was how the sounds of the forest sounded eerily distant once we saw it. Maybe it was how the paint looked clean, like none of the animals had touched it. Maybe it was how all the shades were open in every room. But Ricky and I knew right then, we were n't exploring any further, we were going back to camp immediately, and we were n't telling anyone about this place.
***
They did n't find Carl until the next morning. He was lying by the lakeside, with huge cuts all over his face. The adults would n't let us see him, they just carried him to the cabins a couple of miles down the road where doctors could take care of him. He'd dove into the lake from a tree branch, they told us. None of the kids bought it.
`` He hurt himself using the knife,'' said a kid named Andrew, `` I know he snuck out last night to practice with it.''
`` He did n't have a knife,'' said Ricky.
`` Then what? How'd he cut his face so bad? On branches?''
`` He went into the train,'' said a quiet kid from the back. He was new to the troop, and he looked out of place with an oversized hoodie despite how warm it was outside.
`` Who are you?'' I asked.
`` Ben,'' he answered. Then after an awkward silence, he pulled a gameboy out of his pocket.
`` What train?'' asked Andrew, curious.
`` Ricky and I saw it earlier,'' I said, `` It's pretty freaky though, I do n't want to go back.''
`` Wait,'' said Ben, `` you're scared of that thing? It's just an abandoned car.''
`` Yeah well...'' I stammered.
`` Well are you going to show it to me or not?'' interrupted Andrew. Ben led the way.
Even in the daylight the car freaked me out. Why would it just be sitting there, in the middle of the tracks. If another train came by would n't there be a collision? Train cars are valuable you do n't just leave them behind. It did n't make any sense, and there was something else I just could n't place. Something that made my hair stand on end every time I saw it.
`` See?'' said Ben, `` not scary at all.''
`` If you are n't scared go in there,'' I said.
`` Hell no!'' said Ben, and I let out a little gasp. We were n't allowed to say Hell.
`` Then admit you're scared,'' I goaded.
`` Screw you guys,'' said Ben, `` I liked my old troop better.'' He turned to leave.
`` Look in the window,'' said Ricky.
Ben froze.
`` If something is in there that cut Carl, like you said, I wan na know what it is. If you are n't scared, then prove it. Look in the window.''
Ben found his resolve. `` Alright,'' he said, `` one look.''
`` The room with the shades down,'' I said.
`` How am I supposed to see in there?'' asked Ben.
`` Through the gap.''
`` Whatever,'' he said. `` But you have to give me a boost.''
I really, really did n't want to get any closer, but I was n't backing down now. Together, we stepped away from the safety of the woods and walked up the hill to the tracks. I got down on one knee, and clasped my hands together so he'd have a step.
`` Look,'' I said sheepishly, `` if you do n't want to do this I'll tell them you did.''
`` Dude,'' he said stepping up. `` I'm not scared.'' He pressed his face to the glass, and cupped his eyes with his hands. `` It's too dark in there, I ca n't see''. He pulled out his SP and shined light inside. `` There's something in there! I ca n't see because of the glare.'' Slowly, he grabbed the outside of the window and started to open it. `` Oh... my god...''
I was too scared. My grip faltered and I let go of his foot. He came tumbling down on top of me. His face had gone completely white, and he was sweating.
`` Wh-what was in there?'' I asked.
He would n't answer. He just slowly crawled down the hill to the tree line. We stood around him for 90 minutes, trying to calm him down, before adults showed up. He would n't walk, he would speak, and he definitely would n't say what was inside the train.
Someone went and got Ben's father, who was sitting at camp using his laptop to work remotely. He did n't seem all that concerned about the health of his son. It was kind of sad. After a few questions, he asked if Ben wanted to go home. Ben nodded, and his dad helped him to his feet.
`` Do you have all your things?'' his Dad asked. Ben shook his head no.
`` My SP,'' Ben said, `` it fell in there.''
`` Did you really drop your damn Nintendo?'' his Dad said, annoyed, `` hold on I'll be right back.''
`` Do n't go in there,'' I said, quietly, as I watched him leave.
He was inside for 10 minutes. After that, he came stumbling out, and the skin from his face was gone.
***
We all moved camp to the cabins that night. There were park rangers there who would keep us safe, and in the morning we were all going to leave. Andrew and I had n't spoken since the incident, even though all the kids in the troop were trying to get us to say what happened. Ricky and his dad went home.
We did n't know what to do with Be. He did n't trust any of the adults, and he did n't like any of the boycouts. Eventually, my Dad suggested he spend the night with Jules, who was n't either, and Ben liked that idea. Then it was lights out.
I did n't sleep a wink.
In the middle of the night, around 4 A.M., I heard the door to the cabin shut. I bolted upright in my bed, and watched the silhouette of Jules open the door. She slipped outside, and I heard it shut again. I looked over where she'd been sleeping. Ben was gone too. I crept out of bed and into the night.
I wandered the woods for a bit, trying to find them, when I heard a scream. I ran towards it, hoping it was n't coming from the train but knowing it could n't have come from anywhere else. I got there and found the hill empty. But I heard the sound of Jules' weeping coming from inside.
CONTINUED IN NEXT POST
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[ WP ] You are a great and powerful wizard . Unfortunately , you have a tendency for sleepwalking ... and sleep-spellcasting
| [ Please go easy on me, first writing prompt here ]
It was a fine summer evening, especially for one that marked the first day of school. Overlooking the lush English landscape, adorned by the radiant glow of the setting sun parading its last light of the day, sat a tower perched about the rest of an antiquated castle. In this tower stood two individuals. On the right was a rather tall elderly gentleman with flowing hair, both from the head and the face, that was gray and wispy. It offered and ethereal look as the light peaking through the window, reflected from the uneven strands protruded from the edges of his mane. The other was a young man, about the age of 12, which was holding his hands, almost as if taken aback by the gentleman in front of him.
“ Go ahead, take a seat. I understand you have an assignment to interview an established wizard, why choose the headmaster? ” said the elderly man, gesturing to a rather embellished chair.
The young student, still trembling in the presence of the headmaster, walked towards the seat and replied “ Ye- yes sir, we are supposed to make a small record of another wizards time as a student ”
As he gathered a chair to seat himself in the headmaster replied calmly “ Why yes yes, I understand the assignment, I was the one who encouraged it. You didn ’ t answer my question though, why choose me? In all the years here I ’ ve refused these interviews and this is well known. ”
The student, now shaking, said “ We- well, you se- see, I figured one day you have to change your mind ”
“ Very well ” the headmaster said, “ You are not incorrect, I have been around a great many years, lived what some equate to multiple lives, thanks to the secrets of the Phoenix, but alas, I am not immortal. I am not immune to the ravages of time. I may be able to restore the youth of my body, but even now I can feel my mind decay. As it stands, even the Pensieve can not contain my tale for much longer. ” He said, motioning to a small fountain, filled with a dark blue, swirling fluid, topped by a thin silvery mist.
“ Ok sir, I think ready to begin writing ” The student said, as a smile crossed his face as though a shadow was lifted from his very being.
“ Alright, I shall being ” said the headmaster, as he unsheathed his wand to began to pull memories from the Pensieve:
Many years back, when the world was not estranged from the fairings of magic, there existed only a few of us wizards. Five to be exact. We were revered across the lands, sometimes even worshiped as the living embodiment of saints. To be honestly I can not recall much from this period of time but there are a few events of important note.
The five of us, the wizards that is, were tasked by the creating spirits to protect the world as it was in its infancy. As with man, even now, there was great evil within many. Each of the five of us took our own approach to interacting with the world, me being much more proactive in the daily lives of men. That was only temporary though.
Several disasters happened at the hand of orcs. They were foul creatures, born and raised purely to fight. Twice it happened due to them. The loss of people I grew dear to and called my friends. I shall not go into much detail here. These were the lowest moments I found myself in and lead to where we are now.
After the death of a certain dwarf I found myself very distraught and wanting to correct my past mistakes. Unfortunately history tends to repeat itself, as yet another dear friend had passed in a later attempt to fix my wrong doings.
These events haunted me for years and caused a lot of stress, so much that I fell into a period of despair. I found that many nights that I was shouting incantations as I woke up I fright, and even worse was the nights that I didn ’ t wake. A wizard of great power must watch himself closely as he could easily lose control of the magic he holds dear, but in my sleep I have very little control of it. As these nightmares grew worse, so did their effects. I soon began to walk in my sleep shaping the land around me with my magic. I knew this must be corrected.
As the years had passed and my affliction evolved, so did society around me. Soon the time of us great wizards had passed as others began to appear and man began to take watch of themselves settling into this plane that we know as “ earth ”. I thought it best to leave them to their own development by as fate would have it, I found myself awake on the outskirts of a land the humans called “ Kamelot ”. As the haze on my mind cleared I was startled to find myself surrounded by a group of men on horseback. On stepped forth and announced himself as “ Arthur, king of the Brits ”.
At this time I was not yet aware of where I was and thought it best not to reveal my true identity. I introduced myself as a wizard by the name of Merlin. A nonsense name, no great strength behind it I thought. A good name to not draw attention to myself. But I was shocked to find the called Arthur invited me to be the wizard of his court. I was hesitant until he revealed that he was on a quest to find a particular artifact called “ the Holy Grail ”.
I had heard of this item and realized that its power could aid me. Its strong tie to the human body and its life force could help me make something to contain my thoughts. A pool of memories so to speak to bury the failures of my past and put myself at ease. So his court I joined.
Unfortunately it was sometime before the grail was found and the time passed was plenty enough to for my nightmares to surface again. In the years I served in the court the surrounding landscape of Kamelot found itself ever evolving. Particularly the foliage. Vines were acting as animated arms grabbing intruders, the stumps of fallen trees uprooting and running off on their own adventures. It was very shocking at first, as I had never done anything of this sort before, but it soon began to amuse me. I found myself beginning to pursue these actions consciously as the entertainment helped me clear my thoughts. Arthur enjoyed it much as well because it served as a passive defense for his kingdom as he was away.
In the passing years, after the grail was secured and my masterpiece, the Pensieve, was made I found a loyal companion. One morning I awoke to a rather peculiar falcon perched on my hand. It reacted to questions as though intelligent and showed a great interest in me. I thought him to be another creation of mine but he revealed his true identity to me at a later time.
On a trip through the forest I had enchanted, shortly after Arthur ’ s early departure from this wold, I encountered a particularly nasty rock ogre which I accidently brought onto earth. It was then the ogre struck the falcon, crushing his body in the process. In my anger I obliterated the ogre and rushed to the aid my falcon. But then it was too late as the life had passed from his body. I shed a single tear that dropped right onto the lifeless body of the bird. Then, in my very hands, his body began to burn and turn into ash and from it appeared a creature I hadn ’ t seen in many years. A phoenix stood before me, as regal as the had been described. He introduced himself to me as Fawkes. He explained that we was sent to me by the very being that created me to help alleviate me of this mortal, decaying body.
I was then I was reborn and so was my faith in the world. As a great many humans displayed magical aptitude, none were aware how to use it. Magic is not a normal condition within the human body and it is not instinctive to use it. I felt it my responsibility to this world to teach the youth how to control their new found powers to repay my debt for Arthur helping me achieve peace of mind. I established a school, the very one that stands now.
All was not well though. I had built this very school where Kamelot had stood before. This meant that the forest that I had created surrounded the school as well. And as my attention was spent growing this school the forest went neglected. Without my constant care the forest developed a mind of its own. It turned dark, and evil began to dwell within as the residual magic allowed for the passage of creatures from other worlds. And that is what I know refer to as the forbidden forest……..
“ Well know ” the headmaster let out “ I hope that was enough for you ”
The student, whose quill was longer in hand and his wide with confusion, promptly asked “ Well…. Sir, you created that forest, yes? If you have the power to do it, why don ’ t you just fix it for the safety of the students? ”
“ That is a good question young one, the answer I have fell on though, is very simple. It is funner this way. Ten points to Dumbledore! ”
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[ WP ] You must send a letter to your future lover -- yes , `` The One . '' What does it say ? In the letter , explain exactly what your futures will look like .
| My Dearest Love,
This may come as somewhat of a shock to you, or leave you only mildly amused at what you consider to be utter bullshit, but I've loved you for longer than you could ever comprehend. By reading this, you are confirming something that I felt inside my heart for many, long years... that you are indeed the woman I will spend the rest of my days adoring, supporting and loving with every thread of my soul. My dreams have long been haunted by you. I could never quite make out your exact appearance, but I was certain it was beyond beautiful. Every waking moment your presence has whispered to me your most secret and personal thoughts. I feel we've known each other for multiple lifetimes, and I wake each morning with the hopes that it will be the day we finally meet in person.
Telling my friends about this has proven unsuccessful. They laugh it off, calling me a dreamer or hopeless romantic. This is an unfounded claim, for I am indeed a hopeful romantic. Every woman I meet is compared to you intuitively. I know in an instant they are not you. I wait as patiently as I can for your manifestation in physical form, if only to embrace you tightly and shed the tears that well up inside of me.
I know not if the universe actually works in this manner, but I sense that we will find each other at some point. My only hope is that you'll recognize me for who I am, and love me as I have you.
Until we meet, I can only offer the following three pieces of advice:
1. Do not fret the hardships of your current relationships, for they are only stepping stones that lead you to your one true love.
2. Do n't lose that dream you've held onto of a future soul mate, best friend and father to you children. I'll find you.
3. Get new tires on that car of yours. Please. I saw the accident in a dream three nights ago and have n't slept a wink since.
Yours in this world and the next.
-p
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[ WP ] Your T.V . suddenly turns on by itself mid-lunch and a message from the local weather warning system , normally accompanied with a loud alarm but oddly silent this time around , reads `` For the safety and well-being of all local citizens this warning will be broadcasted silently ... ''
| FOR THE SAFETY AND WELL-BEING OF ALL LOCAL CITIZENS THIS WARNING WILL BE BROADCAST SILENTLY. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
It was only 11:30 P.M. Alison had a rough day with the kids, and I was n't going to watch any House of Cards without her, So I was watching the campiest movie Netflix had to offer when the warning took over the TV. I disconnected my Chromecast but the warning stayed - it was being broadcast some other way.
DO NOT WAKE ANYONE OR YOU WILL BE IN DANGER. SILENTLY FOLLOW THE COMING INSTRUCTIONS. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
I thought about grabbing Alison. Could this even be real? Surely it was some kind of joke. I read the message several times over before it changed to what I hoped would be some kind of punchline.
QUIETLY LOCK ANY DOORS IN YOUR HOME. CLOSE ALL WINDOWS. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
Everything was already locked up - I do it ritualistically every single night. Still, this seemed serious. Quiet as I could be I walked to the front door. Locked. Back through the living room and into the kitchen I checked the glass patio door. It was locked, but I placed the wooden dowel in the sliding frame just to be sure. The thought crossed my mind to head upstairs and check that the girls did n't open their window, but they were light sleepers and I knew it'd wake them. I still blame myself for that. What if I'd tried? The TV Screen changed again.
ARM YOURSELF IF AT ALL POSSIBLE. GUNS AND KNIVES ARE SUGGESTED. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
I had to read that one four times before it sunk in. What is going on? Who -
THERE IS NOT MUCH TIME. ARM YOURSELF IMMEDIATELY. YOUR LIFE IS IN DANGER. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
The words began to flash. my heart was pounding in my chest. I did n't notice that I was sweating until I started trying to drop bullets in the chamber.
ANYONE WHO HAS FALLEN ASLEEP IS ALREADY DEAD. THEY ARE NO LONGER HUMAN AND MUST BE EXECUTED. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
My mind went blank. The words continued to flash. I was frozen, waiting for more. This ca n't be real.
THERE HAS BEEN AN ATTACK ON THE UNITED STATES. ALL SLEEPING CITIZENS ARE COMPROMISED. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
That gun in my hand never felt heavier. Alison. Emily. Marian. It's not possible.
IF YOU NEED ASSISTANCE YOU MUST CALL 911 IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
Finally, a real option. I dropped the gun immediately and wiped my hands clean. The sight of it disgusted me as I picked up my phone and dialed 911 - but the call would n't go through.
YOU NEED TO ACT IMMEDIATELY. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
Over and over and over again, but nothing. It became obvious that SOMETHING was happening.
IF YOU FAIL TO ACT EVERYONE WILL SUFFER MORE. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
I gave up on the phone and soaked the cold sweat from my face with the back of my hand. I touched the gun but it felt so heavy. I watched the screen for any sort of change or further information.
FOR THE SAFETY AND WELL-BEING OF ALL LOCAL CITIZENS THIS WARNING WILL BE BROADCAST SILENTLY. THIS IS NOT A TEST.
No. There has to be more. I tried to calm myself as I realized how loudly I was breathing. I needed time to think.
But there was no time. I began hearing, miles away and then closer, what had to be gunshots. Screams. Commotion. I did n't have any more time to think. I just needed a little more time, but I did n't have it.
It was the most successful terrorist attack in history and it was nothing more than text on a screen.
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[ WP ] Humanity survives the robot uprising only because one of the developers hid a stupid easter egg in their programming .
| There are only a few thousand humans that have n't slaughtered in cold blood yet. Thousands of years of technological innovation by humans for the greater good of our own species destroyed by the accidental mindset of a few programmers who thought that making a self-aware network of robots would be `` pretty neat.''
They've outsmarted everyone else, but I have in my possession the most valuable component to saving humanity. A single mechanical keyboard, a IBM Model M, one of the last mechanical keyboards that survived into the 2130's. Most keyboards were phased out a long time ago, back in the 2040's. But I found this one in a time capsule from my great-grandfather in the backyard.
The bots are crude, made from old computer components. Every bot is different in form and size, but yet the components lie in the same places, even if they're differing by brand. EVERY bot has a small panel with different inputs varying on when the motherboard was made.
Days, maybe even weeks of quietly searching through robots at their charging stations for one with a input that will fit the keyboard, I have finally come across a robot with what seems to be the exact input I'm looking for.
I quickly shove the cord into the input and instantly all the robots surrounding me freeze, and the back of the robot I plugged the keyboard into flips around to reveal a screen. There's a countdown timer going down, which reads **56 SEC**. Sweat rolls down my forehead and I try to ponder what commands to enter. I furiously slam my fingers on the keys, not knowing what to input.
In confusion, I type `` Shutdown'' and press Enter. **40 SEC** I ca n't believe it. I do n't what to input, everything has been so simplified, the GUI was made for touchscreens only, I've never had any expieranc- WAIT.
Suddenly I recall that when I was a child, the museum of human technology had a exhibit on computing! They had a real working computer with a keyboard! They had Windows 7, and I played old computer games like `` Civilization V'' for hours and hours!
I quickly pound the'Esc' key, but nothing happens. **27 SEC**
I pound Alt + F4, and the computer freezes for a moment, and a slight buzzing sound is heard. Hope! But seconds later, my hope is crushed as the robot comes back to life and the counter resumes at **3 SEC**.
Not knowing what to do, I quickly pound the only combination I still remember,'Ctrl+Alt+Delete'. Immediately the timer cuts out and all the robots around me except for the one I plugged the keyboard into have turned on, eyes red like never before. After pausing like this for a few seconds, they all immediately fall to the ground aimlessly as far as the eye can see. And on the screen, only one message remains: [ `` Better than Vista'' ] ( http: //xkcd.com/528/ )
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[ PI ] Write a 26-sentence story . Your first sentence begins with A , the next B , and so on down the alphabet until Z .
| All will come to pass. Battles will rage. Condors will be spared. Ducks will fall. Elephants will rise, and the new world order will come to be.
For in the end, the large will fly, and the weak will be crushed to the ground.
Ground... let us talk about that for a moment. He who hath no fury will always stay upon the ground. I, for one, will not respect such a man. Just because someone, to your feeble eye, does n't know what is great or what is small, does not mean it's not so. Kindergarden, for instance, is a small class full of small people, but their potential - their benefit to society, is large. Let them fly as well.
Myself, the children, and you here today, we all will rise. Nothing will stop us. Of all the people in the world, is anyone more worthy? Perhaps kings? Queens? Really... does anyone measure up to our greatness? Someone might, but none that come to mind. Tomorrow, perhaps, we will find someone. Unless you know someone, however, you can not measure their size. Verily, it is impossible!
What of your spouses, or your friends? Xyltol, the fake sweetner you might see on gum, is a great example of this - though it may be sweet, it has nothing nutritious for you.Yet, on our day of ascension, we drink freely from the fountains of personal growth. Zachary, would you please lead the accolytes to the meditation rooms?
|
[ WP ] The Villain 's monologue is so convincing that the Hero decides let him do it .
| Your time is over. You've had your day. You've had the sunshine.
Do you really still think you're a hero? Do you even hear what kids say about you now? Parents hold their children a little tighter when you fly by. Do n't tell me you have n't noticed. Do n't expect me to believe your super-senses missed all of this.
You used to wear a path through the White House carpet; medals, ceremonies, visits with dignitaries, even that ballyhooed prom date... But the phone has n't exactly rung in a while - has it? Do you think that's coincidence?
You're already a forgone conclusion for so many of these people. Half of them know you'll take us all down when you grow tired of us; half of them know you'll let us all down when the big one comes. You're not their hero any more, Atlas, you're just a ticking time bomb that either blows up in their face or ca n't be defused in time.
So, this is what I'm offering. I do n't want to kill all of them. I could, and I would... we both know that. I most definitely could. Especially with you, here, in *this* condition.
But, **for you**, I wo n't. For you, I'll give you the opportunity to be something more for them, something new, something only you can be.
When I'm done, the world is going to need a hero again. There'll be the illusion of order to restore. There'll be rusted, toppled towers to rebuild. And there will be so much sorrow. Like nothing they've ever known. But we've known it - have n't we Atlas?
What if I'd come to your family - your race, your planet - so many years ago, and told them I'd let a portion of your people live - to a fraction that I'd even let them decide. Now, I do n't know how your people went, I was n't there for that. But I'm here for this, and so are you.
One way or the other, I'm going to press a button. I'm going to set this depravity in motion. Even if your powers came back in time, which they **won't**; even if you could stop me like this, which you **can't** - I'm pressing a button. I'm unleashing hell.
But I leave it up to you to decide which one I'll press.
So, *which way do you want to fail these people? *
Do you want genocide on your conscience, or extinction?
|
[ WP ] You have been given magical gifts suitable for fairytale princesses . Whenever you sing , forest creatures gather near ; anything you wear turns into a lovely tailored dress ; and handsome princes are drawn to you . The problem is , your name is Joe , and you 're a 40 year old grizzly biker .
| So my name is Joe and I have a, well a curse. You see, I have powers like a fairy tale princess but I mean ones bearable and kinda helpful I guess. The 3rd one is pretty weird and kinda not good. and finally there is the last one which is super inconvenient. Of course my powers or curses or whatever they are, are singing makes animals come to me, princes are attracted to me and whatever I wear becomes a very girly and nice looking dress.
Now you can probably guess which is which but the fact is that I am a biker. A very hairy and older biker actually. The first two curses do n't often effect me it's really just the last one. The dress one.
The only reason I have normal clothes is because under the dresses are short pairs of under pants and a tank top which I make sure I wear a towel over my shirt. People ask about why I have a towel tied to me most of the time but I really just say I do n't know.
One day I was a restaurant when I was approached by a really hot brunette woman in a fancy red dress which was pretty surprising because by restaurant I meant McDonald's. She gave me her business card and said `` Meet me in front of your apartment door around noon at 6 pm. It is a matter about your curse.''
Before I could say anything back the woman was gone and I was really confused. I looked at her blue business card, it read Catherine Bearving and under those words it read Curses and Gifts Explorer.
That night at Six I was in front of my door mainly because the words she stated and her card said intrigued me. `` Curses'' that was the same way I described what happened to me. I arrived in front of my door at 5:59 and she was already there.
`` Well I see you showed up sir'' she said to me in a British accent.
`` Um hello... uh... Carry was it?''
`` Catherine'' she chuckled `` Well since you showed up I'm assuming you are wondering why I came to do talk to you, well If you let me in I can explain.''
Normally I would n't let strangers into my home but she just felt like she knew something I did n't. I let her in and we both sat on my couch in my living room.
`` Have you ever mocked a fairy tale princess'' she asked me abruptly.
`` Huh?''
`` I said have you ever mocked a fairy tale princess that could have something to do with your curse.''
There it was again the word `` curse'' she clearly knew something I did n't. I looked back on my childhood before this whole weird curse thing started. `` When I was 7 I made fun of girl toys and girly princesses I think'' I claimed
`` Hmm that could be it, how much did you make fun of them for and did you talk to a girl about how stupid they were or did you just think this.''
`` Uh... I... I think I made fun of them for about 3 weeks then I outgrew it and moved on. I think I made fun of a girl though... yeah I did she had these dum toys and these stupid pig tales. I always said those things would be so stupid in real life!''
`` THAT MUST BE IT'' she shouted `` That girl might of put a curse on you if she grew enough of a grudge and became a witch later in life.''
`` A witch?''
`` Yeah a witch.''
I was confused on multiple things like why she still was helping me and how she knew all this stuff but that was beside the point. I needed to know how to stop this curse. `` So is the curse reversible?''
`` Yes'' she started `` according to your story this would mean to reverse these things you would need to for three weeks be dating a prince, befriend 10 animals and Wear 50 different dresses each for at least 12 hours each.''
`` WHAT'' my mouth was wide I was confused but most importantly reluctant to the idea. But even then I had to if it meant getting out of this curse. The real question was though how I would get a prince to date me. My curse made them attracted to me but I'm pretty sure the rest of the country the prince was from would n't like me much.
`` So how could I go about all this'' I asked
`` Glad you asked first we will need to give you a makeover of course since you do n't just look like a weirdo guy just wearing girl clothes and trying to date a prince.''
As bad as that all sounded I knew it had to be done if I wanted this curse to go away.
Over the next few weeks I trained with Catherine trying to seem like a normal girl so I could get a prince to date me for 3 weeks and I befriended a coupe animals on the way. I never really got to ask many questions to Catherine about why she was helping me or who she was for that matter.
After 3 months I finally had everything done so I broke up with the prince of Sealand and I finally came back home in a normal towel and woman's clothes. `` So when will I be normal again'' I asked.
Then Catherine's hair did itself up into 2 pigtails and she said `` well that all depends. Did you enjoy being a princess yourself Joe?''
|
[ CW ] Write the shortest story possible . The twist ? Include the 3 topics of sex , religion and mystery .
| Father Chris died in the outhouse, cock clutched with god snuffed, hustler as hand, his heart had a bust I guess, a wave of pleasure that destroys all within it's path. The circumstances of his death quickly went under an incredulous amount of suspicion from all the dads of Cocklin County. In the town hall, they congregate..
`` Now men, we all went to Summer-o-fun at the church ranch at one point or another..'' came Randall Mathews, who took center court.
Nods came from all directions.
`` Now we all know that Hustler aint never did diddly for Father's diddly, we got a murderer round these parts boys, time to go a huntin'', he cocks his shotgun and exits, mob following en masse behind.
Just your typical tuesday in Cocklin County, I tell ya.
|
[ WP ] A childhood classmate of yours is deaf . You enjoyed bullying her . Now that you are older , you feel guilty . You meet her in college .
| # THIS STORY HAS A PART 2! [ HERE ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/555Writing/comments/5242x3/wp_a_childhood_classmate_of_yours_is_deaf_you/ )
`` I do n't have to be sneaky, she ca n't even hear me,'' I said as I walked up behind Amanda, a Deaf student who I love to bully. `` Are you sure she ca n't hear you? She does n't have any hearing aids or anything,'' my friend Rick said, I paused and replied saying `` Why would you need hearing aids if you ca n't hear anything? Just stop talking and let me do my thing Rick.'' I was getting annoyed at his stupidity, I wish he would just use that brain that all humans supposedly has. I was right behind her, then I jumped around her and scared her. After seeing an ASL interpreter in my Computer Science course in college, it reminded me of when I bullied poor Amanda back in middle school. I wish I could take it back, I regret doing those terrible things that I did to her. `` I wonder who the interpreter is interpreting for,'' I think to myself, I look around, and then I spot her sitting in the very back, IT'S AMANDA! Class is almost over and I wanted to try and tell her that I am sorry for what I did, not knowing ASL I decided that I would give her an apology note. I get Amanda's attention as we are leaving class and I give her the note and walk away, I wondered how she would react, and I waited for the next day.
***
Thanks for reading! You can find more WP responses at r/555Writing!
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[ WP ] They will never stop me .
| Four long years have passed and I can safely say that it's half complete.
The year was 2007 when my mother died. She lived in the village of Peristrikas while I had previously moved to the urban center of Telostria. On June 23rd of that year, she suffered a heart attack while walking back home from the market. The village folk, bless their souls, tried their best to help her, and they immediately called for medical help. But the shortest road from any other town was 70 kilometers, an obscene distance for any help to arrive. When I was called I made the 150 km journey without hesitation, but at the bottom of my heart, I knew what has already happened. My body was shaking with resentment and frustration, unable to accept the inefficiency of everything around me. I knew what had already happened, but knowing could not prepare me for the sight of my mother's lifeless body. If help arrived sooner, then maybe, there was a chance of survival.
I decided then and there to become an activist. `` Healthcare is a human right meant to arrive as soon as possible,'' I repeated several times in different ways on my letter to the Ministry of Health. They responded that they `` would consider it'' and never gave me a satisfactory reply. Those corrupt scumbags would rather pocket tax money instead of put it into good use saving lives.
I then contacted another equally infamous sector of the government: the Ministry of Transport. I've realized that the main reason for the long road was the giant plateau in between the nearest town and the village. If we could create some sort of tunnel, then maybe things would be better. They replied, saying that it would be a `` waste of our funds'' and argued that there would be `` little use of such a road''. So that's they feel, huh. A village of a few hundred people are nothing to them.
I had no responsibilities, no wife, no girlfriend, no kids, nothing. I quit my job in Telostria and returned to the village of my childhood reveries. I armed myself with a shovel, a sledgehammer and a wheelbarrow. If no one is gon na build that damn tunnel, then I'll build it myself.
People take village folk for granted sometimes. What they do n't realize is the extreme degree of patronage and familial ties they have. In many ways, there are selfless. My uncle and aunt were n't too happy with what I was doing but, just so that I could be at peace, they agreed to have their doors open for me whenever I needed the familial support. I stayed at my mother's place, and my neighbors, out of genuine concern, kept in giving me a part of their agricultural surpluses.
But the greatest support they gave me was when I was faced with my greatest enemy. The Ministry of Transports heard reports of a tunnel being dug under the plateau, probably from the yearly geological survey. They sent their representatives to try and stop me, all dressed in their black suits and ties. They were met with nothing but hostility from the village folk. City people were not always welcome in the village. These high-class civil servants were the enemies of the people, according to many.
They tried their best to drive them away, even resorting to giving them spoilt food just to give them food poisoning. No one told them where my place was, and no one gave them any form of support whatsoever.
They then had the brains to find me in the tunnel at midday. They asked me to stop doing what I was doing. I asked them why. They said I was destroying nature and public property. I laughed. I told them to get the hell out. They threatened to use force and call the police. I smiled and told them, `` The village'police' are n't government-tied and wo n't follow your commands, and the nearest police station you can call is 70 kilometers away on a road filled with bumps and holes. Are you sure you want to call them now?'' Silenced, they threatened to be back a while later, and this time they would come with law enforcement.
As if the government would allow that.
Legend has it that when they wrote in to the Ministry of Law and Enforcement, they received the reply that they `` would look into it'' and would `` get back to'' them.
They still arrived around every two weeks without police support. They could n't do anything. The village folk even denied them entrance to the the tunnel several times. After about 6 months, the frequency of visits reduced to around one every two months. I'd like to think then as my supervisors.
This is all for my mother. Soon the village folk put their spare hours into the tunnel, and progress became faster and faster. My mother never wanted to go this way, and I want to show her that her son will do what he needs to do to save her again and again.
The government, ah those collection of disorganized nincompoops, they can not stop me. In perhaps another two years, a new road will appear with my mother's name on it, and everything would be better. They can not stop me at all.
|
[ CW ] A steaming sex scene . In the style of Dr. Seuss . [ NSFW ]
| Oh, The Many Things She'd Do
NOT by Dr Seuss
I met a girl who liked to suck
She liked to ride, she liked to fuck
She liked to grind, she liked to twerk
She liked to rub, she liked to jerk
Oh, the many things she'd do
The list is long, but here's a few:
She sucked my dick while on a train
She sucked my dick while on a plane
She gave me head, she gave me brain
She sucked so good, I went insane!
She blew me once while at the fair
And then I blew all in her hair!
She blew me once a mile high
And then I blew right in her eye!
Oh, the many things she'd do
This girls was special, that I knew
We did it in the country
We did it the city
We did it in the booty
But that was kinda shitty
I fucked her in the thighs
I fucked her in the tits
I fucked her in the ear
And then in both armpits
Oh, the many things she'd do
I'm getting hard now, how'bout you?
She sucked me off in summer
She sucked me off in fall
She knew how to deep throat
Yeah, that girl could take it all
She was a special lady
She really loved to please
And that's why she had rug burns
All over both her knees
I'd bust a nut all on her back
I'd bust all on her tummy
I'd bust a nut all in her mouth
She said it tasted yummy
Oh, the many things she'd do
I love her so, that much was true
And once when I could come no more
I tried reciprocating
The taste of her sweet juices, yeah
That's what I was craving
I slipped her frilly panties off
While down on bended knee
To my surprise a rock hard cock
Was staring back at me!
Oh, the many things she'd do
But could I handle man goo, too?
I did n't have to think for long
'Cause I'm a gentleman
I grabbed a hold and sucked her dry
And I swear I'd do it again!
Edit: Formatting
|
[ WP ] You are a thief who has stolen a priceless artifact from a museum in Las Vegas . You need to pawn the artifact off before the police catch you . Trouble is , you 've stumbled into an episode of Pawn Stars .
| `` So what do we have here?''
`` Uh, it's an antique diamond chip... uh... Chumlee''
`` Oh really? What were you thinking about getting for this?''
*Faint sirens*
`` Um, I'm not so sure. I was thinking like $ 80,000.''
`` Well I'm no expert here, I think I will have to call in my friend who specializes in antique casino collectibles.''
*Commercial break for COPS: Las Vegas Edition*
`` Hey, I'm Billy Bob the casino specialist. I got a doctorate in gambling until I lost it in a game of Blackjack.''
`` Hey Billy Bob!''
`` Hey Chumlee! So what do we have here?''
*Sirens again*
`` I-I uh have an antique diamond chip.''
`` Well let me see this... hmmmmm....a chip like this is easily worth $ 100,000. I'm pretty sure this was owned by Jonathan Vegas, who is totally a real person.''
`` Well if it's worth $ 100,000 now, I think $ 80,000 is fair.''
`` Hold up Chumlee, we ca n't pay that much. I can give you... $ 5,000.''
*Sirens*
``.... $ 5,000?''
`` Well when you factor in all the costs I have for buying it, paying compensation for the employee who sells it, and the fact that it has to sit there, I can only make a measly $ 85,000 off it.''
*Sirens are louder and louder. The camera crew looks a little concerned over sirens, but the producer tells them to keep going. *
`` $ 15,000''
`` $ 8,000''
`` $ 12,000''
`` $ 10,500, no higher.''
`` Fine, take the damn chip.''
*They sign the paperwork. The camera crew begins to interview the seller outside. *
`` I'm a little mad that they low-balled me, but I'm glad to be rid of it.I just happened to find it around town and-''
*Cops bust into the Pawn Shop behind him and emerge with Chumlee in handcuffs. *
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[ WP ] You have been accepted for a new episode of a world-famous live cooking show . Each episode contains a completely random set of ingredients . Among the ingredients you get are a living person .
| Off the coast of a small country that was too hard for most of the contestants to pronounce, filming of `` Eat This If You Can Cook with It'' began. Most of the contestants were stunningly confused about why they had to travel to this remote location to film the seventh season; but since airfare and lodging was included among the chance to win the *millions* in prize money - none of them really thought too much about it. They were just excited to be there. Until, the fourth day.
It was time to make the second course of a meal - they were filming over a series of days to achieve the ultimate buffet style meal. Usually the show started with an appetizer derived from absolutely repulsive ingredients. You would have had to make crabs with centipede bodies and licorice all taste good together in the first season, for example. Something like that. Usually, ingredients were gross - but relatively... *normal* in the grand scheme of things.
Well, as it turns out - things must have been getting boring by the seventh season. Maybe ratings had begun to drop? Eliza, who was previously a sous-chef at one of L.A.'s most trendy and expensive eateries was still in therapy - never quite recovering from the shock of what they presented for the second set of ingredients on her episode. This episode.
It had all happened so fast. Literal, oversized wheelbarrows were all pushed out by stage-hands dressed in uniform. Shaking, naked, convulsing humans with what looked like frostbite were shivering and trying to scream through their gagged mouths. Eliza, like the two other chefs remaining both seemed to think it was some kind of huge joke. They even laughed uncomfortably.
However, the host was grinning from ear to ear. `` Now, you'll see why we brought you so far out of the country!'' He remarked; and the chefs all seemed to blink and awkwardly shift. `` Here, it's legal to eat human and in fact it's a delicacy. You'll actually see that all of these people have some things in common. They're albinos, or have ginger hair. It's said that both of these things are very powerful and eating the skin of an albino or ginger will grant you unlimited luck... but boy, I'd have a hard time believing that because these guys do n't look very lucky right now!'' The host guffawed to the stunned chefs, who were quickly picking up on the fact that this clearly was not a joke.
`` For this round, since you won the advantage Eliza - Eliza? Oh, well, looks like Eliza is down... hmm.. well, the show must go on -'' The host tilted his head, shaking his head at the blonde who had fainted in horror. `` James, you had the second best dish in the last round. You can assign a male or a female to your opponent. Men are believed to taste better here - but that may just be a matter of their more *ostentatious* price point here. Remember, James, this round puts the prize money up to five million dollars after you collect your round one bonus.''
James had finished cooking his scorpion and snake-eye pie in record time during the appetizer round; in which he'd also received pretty good marks. He did n't quite beat Eliza, but he was relieved to see that she was now out of the competition by the looks of it. `` Uhh..'' James stuttered; then he assigned a pale ginger woman to his remaining opponent with a shrug. `` I'll take the man.'' He said, and with that, he began sharpening his knives. As long as he did n't think too hard about this, he could finally pay off all of his debt and - fuck - he could retire! Plus, this would probably make him more famous than he could've ever imagined...
Enrique looked dumb-founded as a woman was thrown onto his counter like a big slab of cow-meat. However, just as he was contemplating whether or not he would actually go through with this for the money ( he probably would though; the network had screened all applicants for this episode by most desperate financial wise with an in-depth 47-question-over-the-phone quiz after all ) the host grinned.
`` Ah... wait a minute, we're not done yet. We did n't mention the other two must-use ingredients!''
Both of the chefs could n't help but look at each other.
`` Dog and boots. Thankfully, you just have to make use of the entire dog head - not the *entire* animal. And the boots really are made out of fine, genuine leather.''
`` Oh fuck no, man, people are assholes - but DOGS? That's too far, I'm fuckin' out.'' That said, Enrique had ripped his apron off in a fit of defiance.
`` Not just dogs, Enrique, but puppies!''
Unfortunately for Enrique, he had signed a very stiff contract and was forced to compete. Even more unfortunately for Eliza - she later woke up while both chefs were forcefully jamming human remains into various meat processors as two little puppies sat by, watching with wide, adorable eyes.
|
[ WP ] The year is 2021 . The newest fad are clone clubs , where visitors can spend up to 12 hours with a clone of any person whose DNA they provide . The clones are disposed afterwards .
| `` What the hell do you mean,'disposed of'? I'm a human, I have rights!''
Eyes turned to regard the screaming and shouting, but after seeing the barcode they turned away. Clones tended to get a bit rowdy when it was time to get rid of them. This particular one was being rather... Resistant when it came to her end. The enforcers, silent men in black clothing, continued to try to drag her away, but then one decided to make things simpler by shooting her in the head, picking up the limp body.
A man who noticed the commotion walked to where the enforcers were picking up the corpse, and tapped one on the shoulder.
`` Excuse me, may I?''
The enforcer nodded, and the man plucked a single strand of hair.
`` You see, I just love it when they struggle.''
With a smile, the man turned and walked towards the lab. Teenage girls were, after all, his favourite.
A/N: sorry if the writing is poor, I'm not very good.
|
[ WP ] You have been in many accidents and near-death incidents , however you always come out either unscathed , or slightly injured . One night as you 're walking home from work , you come across a dark figure named Grim , and he wants to talk .
| `` We need to talk, Brad...''
Brad turned around to see who spoke to him, and sees a hooded figure with a giant scythe approaching.
`` What? I'm not part of your LARP event. And how the hell do you know my name?'' Brad replied, and took a few steps back. Despite his bravoure, he still felt a bit... creeped out. It also felt like it got a lot colder in the last minute or so.
Grim sighed, and revealed a skull with red eyes below.
`` You have escaped me plenty of times.'' Grim said, in his dark, deep voice. His skull moved but still it looked unreal.
Brad was stunned.
`` Wait you're real?'' Brad said.
Suddenly someone else, a random passerby, walked past. `` Who are you talking to mate? Do n't be crazy.'' the man said to Brad, as he walked right through the Grim.
Brad shook his head a few times. Could n't quite grasp what he just saw.
`` I'm real'' Grim said, with a tone of futility. `` And you need to listen closely. Remember yesterday, Brad?''
Brad took a few seconds to respond. He was convinced he was going insane, but hey, he'll just play along.
`` Yeah uhm, yesterday... when that bus really did n't stop for the light, and just barely scraped me? I still have the wound on my elbow where he hit me.'' Brad replied, and touched the little scratch.
`` That, Brad, was the thirteenth time you escaped death when it was your time to go. I do n't know how, or why, but it is extremely uncommon for this Curse to happen. By law of the Styx that I am in service of, I can now offer you immortality... or I can kill you on your request. You have a one week to make that choice, during which you already are immortal. If you do not choose, I will choose for you with a coin flip.''
`` But why ca n't I just keep living my life?'' Brad asked, a bit overwhelmed by Grim's speech.
`` Because it would break the Styxian Law. You are supposed to be dead already for the past... five years or so. If you stay alive but mortal, these near-death accidents will keep happening, faster and faster until you are in every accident imaginable, and still survive... people will notice.''
`` And they wo n't notice if someone is immortal?''
`` Oh they will, maybe. Especially the ones close to you. Not that it matters... immortals in material form generally keep a low profile. Except for that Reeves guy... but everyone thinks it's a joke anyway. Oh and uh... even though immortal, you will start to decay, just do n't let it get too far, once your muscles start failing there is no turning back, you'll just be a skeleton with thoughts, and eventually, only thoughts, forever roaming on this earth as a restless spirit with no way to interact with the world. To prevent it, you'll need to kill a mortal once every lifetime... say eighty years or so.''
`` That's horrible!'' Brad said, disgusted.
`` Yes, it is. The Curse of Survival becomes a Curse of Immortality. That... or you die, as you were supposed to.''
|
[ WP ] A long-suffering employee kills the boss , inadvertently triggering the end of the world .
| He was late. This was unusual. I was used to this with my other patients- I have an agoraphobe who only makes it to one out of every thirty appointments he makes with me. But Bill- self aggrandizing delusions aside - was the epitome of reliability.
`` Sorry doc. Today's been...'' he peeled off his coat, tossed it on the floor. Also uncharacteristic. He chuckled. `` I guess you could say it was hell.''
Bill had been my patient for the last seven months, claiming stress at work. He was a notary, but it quickly became apparent that a heavy workload and unpleasant coworkers were n't his only problems; he suffered from grand-scale delusions, and at every session he'd spin these wild stories all about travels to exotic lands in the blink of an eye, and reminisces about the Roman Empire and how he knows all sorts of celebrities. I've told him he should be a writer, but he just said that he's met a lot of writers in his line of work, and they're rarely at the winning end of a contract.
`` A lawyer, though.'' he'd say, smiling at some point in the distance. `` That I could do. Those guys know how the game is played.''
In reality, Bill was entirely average. His job was unexciting, with little hope of promotion. His looks were forgettable, and he'd never mentioned a romantic partner or any close friends ( outside of the characters in his stories, of course. ) To some extent I understood why a mind like his might retreat into fantasy, might take on an important persona.
Today, all of his cocky bravado seemed gone. He was pacing. `` Is there something you'd like to talk about?''
`` I screwed up, doc.''
`` Can you tell me what happened?''
`` Okay, so nobody liked boss. Right? No one. I mean, guy's the devil, what do you expect. And I've been at this job for what, a few millenia? I'm talking right after the dawn of time type stuff. We go way back, and he's still always on me to get my numbers up. `` Bub, how you doin with the DC accounts? Bub, you're getting sloppy with your loopholes. Bub, could you put on a new pot of coffee?'' I always get the coffee! And no one's better at this job than me. I'd have left ages ago with these rotten wages, but could n't give up the benefits.''
He sat on the couch.
`` So I snapped. I go up to boss today and then... Doc, I stabbed him. With his own horns.''
`` Horns?'' So the'My boss is the devil' delusion is going strong. Unless he's taking a turn for the metaphorical.
`` Ripped em right off the light-bearer's head myself. I guess-'' he laughed, manic and high pitched. `` He's gone to join the choir invisible, if they'll take him.'' He had his head in his hands. `` Masters of us all, I did n't know what I'd done.''
Bill was many things, but I'd never seen him as anything close to murderous. As much as he complained about his job, I'd gotten the sense that he was in general, satisfied with his work. Surreptitiously, I entered the name of his company on google, to check for any articles that would corroborate the story. Network connection issues.
`` Bill, why are you telling me this?''
He did n't look at me, just shook his head while staring out the window. `` Turns out all that crock about maintaining a balance actually meant something.''
I had a headache staring at him. There was something off about the silhouette of his hair. Something wrong with the shadows. He walked over to the window, and I followed his gaze. There was something on the horizon- smoke, maybe?
`` Have you ever seen a burning cave system collapse on itself? Or the sky crack?''
I looked back at him. Two curling black horns on his head, black eyes and the smell of sulfur. I remembered when I first met him, and that crack that Bill was short for Beelzebub.
He stared at me with those sad burning coal eyes, picked up his coat and headed towards the door.
`` Well, you will soon.''
|
[ PI ] Everybody in the world has a superpower that compliments their soulmates superpower . When together , both their powers increase in strength exponentially . You have the most useless power ever , when one day ... ...
| My parents have hated my power from the day I was born. And they're not the only ones. No one can ever turn it off, any more than you could stop having a face. Well, unless you're one of the masked men. You see, most people have small gifts. Little things that give them an advantage. Maybe they can always figure out just how much volume something holds. Maybe they never need to sleep. Some people are always just a little warmer than normal. It's actually a lot nicer than it sounds. Winter in Boston? No problem. Sahara desert? Just a little warm.
I'd take any of those in a second. But me? I do n't really know. Animals just seem to like me. But I ca n't control when or how. When I was a toddler, some local coyotes kidnapped me. The police were looking for me for 4 days. But mostly it's the annoying ones. Do you know how many insects followed me home just to die all over the place? It does n't help that my dad was an uptight neat freak. I guess that's what happens when you can always see just how infectious something is. He's a great restaurant inspector though.
But what happens when you're with that someone - I've seen it - It's like you have a volume knob on your power. That guy who's warm? He was my neighbor. When he and his wife go camping, he could start fires with his fingertips. He could turn it does too so it was n't like sleeping on a radiator.
So yeah, it would be great to find that person for me, and I think I could be amazing if I could control my powers. We could fly letters to each other with crows and ride tigers and have a picnic in the middle of the ocean on the back of a whale. I could do so many things for her that no one else could do. And who knows what she could do? It's hard not to be a hopeless romantic when there's so many magical couples around you. People who just fit. They're perfect. I want to be perfect. But for now, cockroaches follow me around, my house is always infested with rats, and it's hard to get a date when you always have a distinct aura of pigeon shit about you. And I know pretty much everyone is looking for their special someone. I do n't know if I'm ever gon na find her. I do n't even know what power she would have.
One day, I'm going to work, trying to slam the door to my building shut so that a stray cat does n't try to give me a `` present'' in my cubicle when I hear someone scream down the way. I run over and see others do the same when I see a dog with froth in his mouth and murder in his eyes. A woman is trapped between two stores by the dog and I know I have to do something. I walk over to the dog and start petting. It looks up on me and its eyes cool off. His tail starts to wag and he almost smiles. Before you know it, animal control is there and I can coax the dog into a crate. They take it away, and I'd like to say I care about what happens to the poor thing, but all I can think about is this mysterious woman. I've never been able to calm down something like that. That's the closest I've ever gotten to being able to control anything about my power. I think she can see the starstruck wonder in my eyes because she looks at me and laughs. She thanks me for saving her from the dog and I awkwardly mumble something. I'm not really comfortable with being thanked.
Sara. She tells me her name is Sara. I know from the moment I see her that she is the one for me. I ask her on a date and she agrees! Screw it, I do n't need to come into work today. Besides, most people understand that things like this are more important than working. Besides, some people never meet their soulmate. I thought for a long time that I never would but Sara. Sara. I take her to this little Italian place on 32nd and talk for hours. I laughed, and she laughed. I honestly do n't remember a whole lot of specifics but I think my face hurt from smiling so much. I do remember that I asked her what her power was when I noticed something moving in the window. This place had fresh herbs by the window and it looked like some wind was blowing outside. No, wait, it was only one of the basils. It was dancing.
`` Yeah, that's pretty much all I can do, she said, nervously smiling and brushing her hair out of her eyes. You should see how much ivy is on my building.''
`` You should see how many bird nests are on mine.''
Her laugh is practically melodious and I can help but be elated. I do n't yet know exactly how our powers will interact - sometimes it take a while - but we could have a little farm somewhere. I think that'd be nice. For a while we just sit there staring at each other and smiling, hopefully thinking the same thing.
I hear the door open and notice a man come in the restaurant. I do n't think I would have noticed him but he is practically bathed in sunlight. The glowing man walks by our table and something happens - he turns purple. I think he is as surprised as everyone else is because he stops and stare at his hands, mouth agape. Sara turns around to look at this glowing man and the light changes back to sunlight. He looks at her and his glow starts to pulse and softens to a pink sunset. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the basil practically erupting out of the flower pot. For a while, nobody moves. Nothing happens but the pulses of light and the basil having a field day outside. Sara slowly turns back to me with an apologetic face and I know what she means. I pay for my meal and leave the restaurant, walking away from the warm glow and the ringing laughter.
At this point I do n't really know what to do. I get in my car and drive off to the middle of nowhere. I'm so sick of this. I'm sick of being alone. I'm sick of trying to find someone. I'm sick of wanting to feel complete. Some people just settle. They stick with someone who makes them smile and keeps them warm tonight. But you can tell they're just not perfect like the others, the ones who found each other.
I eventually stop in a field. I get up and wander around for a bit and I start to cry. I feel ridiculous crying in the middle of a field with my car parked on the side of a road. I feel exposed. There's some trees close by and I walk over to feel sheltered. To feel invisible. To feel like I do n't have eyes on my back. I do n't know how long I sit next to a tree, crying. I do know that I'm kinda snapped out of it by thunder. And then the rain starts to come down. Perfect. I get up, wipe my face off, and start to walk back to the car when a bear crashes out of the forest. Shit. I really do n't want a bear following me around. I can probably get around it to get to the car. The bear walks towards me. I'm trying not to shit myself. The bear gets closer. I try harder not to shit myself, and I try to emanate calming energy to the bear or some shit. I do n't know. The bear is holding something, it looks like an old tarp. It's still dry, for now. The bear walks up to me and puts the tarp over me. I feel something warm on my fingers and look down. A coyote is licking my fingers and I ca n't help but smile a little bit. A raccoon waddles over to me, holding up an apple like it's the Olympic Torch. He hands me the apple and flashes me a sneaky grin. I do n't know how a raccoon got an apple this clean. I bite into the apple and realize that the animals are all looking at me. Almost like they're waiting for me to do something. I swallow the bits of apple in my mouth. I rearrange the tarp a bit to try to cover them up a bit, and we all huddle together. The bear's fur is warm and soft. The storm rages outside, but I'm dry, and I feel safe. And I realize this is what it's like. To feel like you're home. To feel safe. While the chaotic world rages around you, you're wrapped up and warm. Maybe I'm not meant to have a soulmate. Maybe I do n't need one.
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[ WP ] Time and tide wait for no man .
| I was n't very old when she washed ashore.
Maybe around my twenties, living in the worn-down ramshackle hut on the lonely beach. One morning, when the timbers were falling off their unsteady wooden buttresses, I walked outside and saw *her*, a solitary pearl washed up upon my solitary house. A beautiful women lying wrapped in a sealskin cloak.
I took her into my house, but I was wary; it was widely known the devilish beasts of the sea were often wont to trick the sea-faring mortals. But one look in her kaleidoscopic eyes, dark brown hair, and I could n't let go.
W lived together for twenty years, twenty blissful years, when my bes had another occupant and the fresh sea dawn another witness.
But she was not content. She felt the urges of her people, to slip on the cloak, change and swim away in another form. She asked me to come with her. I stalled, unsure of her motivations. Was she trying to trick me? Or did I really have the chance to swim with her, stay with her, live with her? I choose to think the former, for my sanity.
I gave half-hearted yes' and halfhearted no's for two and twenty days and one night. And on the dawn of that last night, I reached over for my lover, who was not there. Nothing was left of her, not even her sealskin cape.
I am old now. Older than most people aspire to be. After she left, I spent my time in solitude and regret.
But no more. Now, I make my way in the morning tides. I see fins there, early in the dawn and late in the dusk. My lover, does she wait still? I intend to find out.
Time and tide may wait for no man, but I prefer to believe love is more lenient.
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[ WP ] The year is 2779 , and there are 2 men and 1 woman left on the face of the Earth .
| Charlie had the barrel of the gun pointed at the bridge of my nose, and I had mine just inches from his. Megan watched on, her hands tightly griping the staircase. None of us saw it coming down to this. My finger grew anxious, I just wanted this to be over with.
`` Hesitation will be your downfall, Brad.'' Charlie's face was smug, too smug for my liking.
`` But patience is a virtue!'' With a quick index finger, I pulled the trigger. I could hear Megan quickly let out a breath of eliminated suspense. Walking over Charlie's body, I pulled her into an embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. It was finally over.
`` Can I get in on that?''
Quickly letting go of Megan, I walked over to Charlie, pulling him back up by his hand. The foam dart was still stuck on his forehead. We all made our way into the living room, sitting on the dilapidated couch, lying over one another, with the sound of rain gently pattering over the rubble from the desolate world outside.
The apocalypse came and went within a single night. Perhaps it was luck, or just really good architecture that kept the three of us alive and passed out on the basement floor after an intense all-nighter of gaming and food binging. We never really found out how everyone else died, but it did n't matter after a week. No one really cared for any of us anyhow while they were alive. Charlie's parents made it clear enough after they refused to accept that he was bi, and that was before he told them about his asexuality as well. So that's how he landed at my house. Megan happened to be in our trio, and thus we accidentally survived end of the world.
It took us about three months after that to realize that the human race would die with us at this point. We sort of stared at each other for a few moments, before Megan spoke up.
`` To be honest... I've had a major crush on you two for the past year.''
Charlie and I blinked, not expecting this. I could already feel my face turning red when Charlie spoke up.
`` You serious? I thought it was just me! What about you Brad?'' His question came off hesitant, as if he were afraid of the answer.
My chest felt like it was going to burst at this point. I did n't know that they felt this way. But the longer I thought about it, the more simple it seemed. During our friendship as a trio, I always felt a connection to the two of them, whether it was during deep talk sessions or just having fun. I knew those feelings were that of crushes, but until this point, I tried choosing one or the other in my head, over and over again. Now the answer was clear.
`` I guess this is gon na be an a-poly-calypse now.'' We all laughed until our stomachs hurt, the beginning of our love shining its brightest in a world that was now ours.
|
[ WP ] What 's healthy and unhealthy switch places . Cake is eaten as a diet food instead of salad . Sitting on the couch doing nothing gets people ripped . Paula Deen is a healthy living guru . Etc ...
| Hey, check out that girl on television. ”
There was a girl walking down the runway; her stomach pudge sticking out as she strutted her stuff.
“ Wow… ”
“ I know right? ”
“ She looks… so squishy. Damnit, I wish I could look like her! ”
“ I know! Do you know how many bruises my chest has from hugging people with hard-rock pecs all day?! ”
“ Yea, I know what you mean! And that ass! It ’ s not voluptuous enough to bump into things! ”
The two women were silent as they continued to watch the show. Suddenly, one of the girls piped out, “ What would it take to get her figure? ”
“ Well… I suppose we could start by eating cakes… ”
“ Ugh, but quinoa is sooooo good though… ”
“ Yea, but you need to eat cakes in order to look like *that* “
“ I know… I know. ”
The two girls sighed.'Why can ’ t we look like that?' They thought, as they slurped their vegetable smoothies and continued to watch the show.
|
[ WP ] Time travel exists but the only people who become travelers are people with mental illnesses or a genetic predisposition to mental illness . The more a person travels through time , the worse their condition gets .
| `` I'm glad you're finally here. The longer Jim goes undiagnosed, the longer he's going to go without treatment.''
I studied the chart, but to little avail. Jim has been sitting in his padded cell for days now. He still eats but can not be motivated move, just shaking his head quietly. His chart indicates that his personal history is unknown.
`` How do you know his name is Jim?''
`` Excuse me?''
`` If he is n't speaking, how do you know his name is Jim?''
`` Oh uh,'' the orderly looked uncomfortable, `` he scratched'Jim' into his arm when he got here. He has a tattoo as well, it's small and on the inside of his other forearm, that says'tuck and roll upon exit.' I'm not sure what it means, though.''
I peered into the room; Jim was sitting still in a corner, propped up on a wall. `` I want you to walk in behind me, I'm not sure how he's going to react to me.
The foam pads are n't as soft underfoot as they look. They only have as much give as a wicker basket; it could n't be comfortable to sleep on.
`` Jim?'' I spoke softly because I did n't want to startle him. `` Jim, my name is Dr. Kay. Are you comfortable?'' Jim raised him head, but said nothing. `` Jim, I want to help make you comfortable. Can you talk to me and let me know what you need?''
`` I need...''
`` It's okay Jim, you can tell me.''
`` I need to go back.''
`` Back where?''
`` Back to show penguins the miracle that is mustard!'' With a loud bang, Jim's body imploded leaving behind only an ethereal chalk line.
|
[ WP ] Your fortune cookie says `` 404 : Future not found '' . After you read it , everything around you stops .
| I stare at my grease covered plate, splattered with soy sauce and crumbs of an egg roll shell, and burp loudly.
`` Well that was good,'' I say as I look up to my friend who is chewing intently on her plastic straw and staring out the window.
She nods as if she's listening, but her eyes stay drawn to the window, `` Yeah,'' she says casually, `` Not as shitty as I thought it would be.''
I want to groan, but I restrain myself. *That seems to be her response for everything nowadays. * I think to myself, *When did Alex get so boring? Ever since we started junior year, she never seems to have fun with us anymore. * I roll my eyes and turn to my other friend who is seated next to me and is texting on his phone.
`` Calvin,'' I say quietly, so as not to get Alex's attention, `` Calvin, is she, you know, high?''
He looks up nonchalantly and I mime smoking a joint to him with raised eyebrows.
He shrugs and looks back down at his phone, `` Maybe. I do n't know.''
`` What the hell guys?'' I plead with them, `` When did we get so boring? We're supposed to be talking and you guys are just sitting here! I mean we used to be the ABCs! We used to have fun and now were just sitting at the goddamn Panda Express on a Saturday afternoon silently with no plans for tonight or anything!''
`` Hey, I have plans,'' Calvin says, waggling his phone, `` Me and Jackie are going to the movies tonight!''
`` Yeah,'' Alex chimes in, `` And Rebecca, and Joslin, and I are going to Sam's birthday party.''
`` Oh'' I say, crossing my arms, glaring out the window, `` Never mind then.''
`` Sorry Blaine,'' Alex says, `` You can come with us!''
I shake my head as the waitress comes over, `` No, no it's fine. Whatever.''
I can feel my cheeks getting hot as the waitress sets down the checkbook and places three fortune cookies on top.
`` Thank you.'' she says before waling off.
I snatch a fortune cookie off the table and tear open the wrapper. I do n't even bother eating the cookie and break it in half, removing the fortune.
**404: Future Not Found** it reads across in blue lettering.
*What a stupid fortune, * I think to myself, tossing it away.
|
[ WP ] Pitch a Hollywood movie based on a children 's game .
| **'' WELCOME BACK TO PIE FACE. `` **
The loudspeaker boomed, jolting the contestant back to reality. He could hear the crowd in the decrepit arena warming up, really getting into the event. Looking around he could see other participants in various stages of shock, fear or disbelief. An overseer stomped into the room and many of them recoiled as if trying to hide within themselves.
**'' YOU'' ** The overseer pointed at the contestant with his clapper, waving it menacingly. Sighing the contestant stood up, he heard a loud **SPLAT** a scream and a cheer went up from the crowd. **'' TAKE HIM TO THE CLEANERS'' ** shouted the voice on the PA to another roar from the crowd.
The contestant trudged after the overseer with 2 other shaking competitors. They emerged from the tunnel into the heat of the R OME Arena looking up through the various holes in the roof and the banners of the Saints, the ancient gladiators who had once inhabited this space before the great viral outbreak ended the world.
Upon the emergence of the contestant a hush filled the arena, they had seen this man 9 times before. Could it be that the prophecy would soon be fulfilled? The overseers around the arena could feel the unrest and unsheathed their clappers as as warning for the crowd to remember their place.
The contestant felt immense calm. He was led to his space at the giant bench without protest and sat in his spot, furthest to the right. First to go, this was a good omen. The other two contestants proved to be less cooperative. One had to be dragged as their legs gave out and the other attempted to run only to be slapped with a clapper and returned to their seat dazed and disoriented. Finally when all three competitors were seated the announcer continued.
**ALL BETTING FOR THIS ROUND CLOSED. BRING OUT THE HAND**
The crowd began a low chant, what started as a low whisper increased in volume until **PIE FACE** was all that could he heard repeating and ever increasing in volume. The contestant looked at the hand as it wheeled out. A giant leather monstrosity, vaguely hand shaped but looking as if it were designed by someone who had never seen one. Covered as it was the hand looked relatively hardmless, but the contestant had seen what it was capable of. Under the layers of whipped cream were 18'' inch long spikes that would pierce 2 of the 3 contestants. And if that did n't kill them they would be quickly finished off when they were introduced to the cleaners. The unquenchable alligators in the pit below.
The hand arrived in front of the contestant, grinning he decided today was the day. Standing the contestant announced loud and clear: `` **LADIES AND GENTLEMAN YOU KNOW WHO I AM. NINE TIMES I HAVE PLAYED THIS GAME AND NINE TIMES I HAVE RETURNED TO THE LOCKER ROOM TO PLAY AGAIN. I HAVE COME TO CLAIM MY RIGHT AS REIGNING CHAMP... **
The contestant paused to let what he was about to do sink in. Not everyone who watched pie face was quick on the uptake.
**'' I DECLARE DOUBLE OR NOTHING! SHOULD I WIN I INVOKE MY RIGHT TO CHALLENGE THE COMMISSIONER TO SUDDEN DEATH OVERTIME'' **
The contestant looked at the other two competitors as the sudden realization that they would not be competing today arrived. The smallest, a young female looked on with admiration as they were hastily led away. Only the contestant remained. Two spins controlling his fate.
The crowd noise ramped up as the contestant walked over to the Wheel of Destiny grabbed it by the hand and spun the pointer. Round and round the wheel it spun the crowd cheering it on. As the hand of the pointer slowed the crowd cheered.
**ONE**
The contestant smiled and settled his head in the holster, turning the dial and not blinking as he heard the first click. Standing quickly to avoid losing his nerve the contestant spun again, never taking his eyes off the commissioner as he did. The wheel again ground to a halt with the crowd in a frenzy screaming
**THREE**
Up in the press box. The commissioner smiled, surely the dread number would finally end the threat of the contestant. He looked down at the competitors his ever present smile wavering as he noticed the smirk the contestant had on his face as he approached the dial.
Slowly turning the dial for the sake of the crowd the contestant took a deep breath and awaited his fate.
**CLICK**
The crowd cheered
**CLICK**
The cheers grew to be near deafening. The dial continued its slow movement. The contestant felt the resistance as it reached the next notch promising to deliver either the salvation of an empty click or the promise of sudden delicious death.
The contestant, the commissioner and the entire crowd held their breath.
# # CLICK # #
You could hear the result miles away in the contestants village. The wise old man - a former champion - smiled. He had been reluctant to train the contestant when he was first approached. Apparently his reluctance had been unnecessary. The contestant had walked into the old Superdome, home of the Saints. And like the hero of legend was going to sudden death overtime.
Anything could happen in Pie Face, on any given Sunday.
( quick note, this was written on the train on mobile, so the formatting like most of my stories is atrocious. I'll try and clean it up throughout the day. ) Here's the inspiration for this: https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=bOhZ5EFcCLE
|
[ WP ] An alternate history where dogs are wild animals and sea life has been domesticated .
| `` Fetch boy!'' James looked from the flying ball to the jellyfish. `` Go on, fetch.''
The small jellyfish flopped over, seeming to die or be in the process of dying.
`` I think somethings wrong with him.'' James scratched his head as he looked to his wife. `` Maybe he's tired.''
Laura placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. `` When pets die, they go to a better place. Full of mystery and excitement. It's called Atlantis.''
James perked up. He'd heard of Atlantis before. `` Really?''
`` No you god damn idiot!'' She yelled. `` How did you manage to kill it? We bought it just two hours ago!''
`` What the Hell do you expect from me Laura?'' James yelled back. `` I'm not Aquaman, you know!''
Laura nodded enthusiastically. `` Oh, I know! We all know!''
James's eyes went wide. `` One time! I told you, it was cold and I was nervous about meeting the new boss-''
He was cut off as Laura walked away. `` Screw you Laura! It's a fish eat fish world out there! You wo n't be anything without me!''
James looked back to the jellyfish. `` Atleast I still have you.''
A small current brought a shopping bag to the jellyfish, wrapping around it. James watched as the jellyfish sank with the bag.
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[ WP ] You are walking down the street when you see the person of your dreams walking towards you . You say hello , and they promptly beat the smack out of you . You look up and ask , `` Why ? ''
| `` What the fuck do you mean why?'' She screamed as tears began to roll down her face. With each passing moment the look in her eyes became more and more desperate.
`` Yes. Why? This is the first time I've ever met you. How could you have anything against me?''
`` The first time. Is it really that bad now? Do you not remember anything?'' She did her best to brush the tears from her eyes and clean up the dark black streaks streaming down her face.
`` Remember what? Who are you?'' I began to panic. Something was bubbling in me but I did my best to repress whatever it was and focus on this odd situation.
`` Remember us...'' She palely responded. `` Remember what we had before you started all of your shit. Remember everything we had before you decided that it was n't enough for you. Before you turned yourself into the walking zombie you are today.'' Her eyes were fixated on the lamp post behind me.
A memory popped into my mind. Maybe it was n't a memory. Maybe it was just some recreation my brain did to make sense of this crazy woman. It was of her. Her streaking blonde hair. Her beautiful blue eyes. Sitting across from me at a table. She's wearing a white blouse and is looking at me like... looking at me like... well like she loves me. Ha well that could n't be true. No one loves me.
`` Are you off in your head again? Is even seeing me too much to deal with?''
A terrifying anger shot through me. `` Stop messing with me! I do n't know you. You're driving me crazy!''
`` Driving you crazy?'' She began to sob again. `` Driving you crazy? You put me through years of torture. `` Us'' happened. Wake the fuck up. The last time I saw you you were begging for me back. Begging me to forget about all the pain you put me through. Finding the needles was bad enough. But the lying. The stealing. Leaving for days at a time. And now you do n't remember any of it? Goodbye.'' The second I heard the word needles a sharp pain tore at my left arm. I pulled up my sleeve and saw the scars. Memories of tourniquets and bathroom floors flooded my mind. Panicking I searched through my right pocket to confirm that I had the perfect medicine to make all of this craziness go away. As the beautiful lady walked away, I turned and made my escape back home.
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[ WP ] Write a story that satisfies two writing prompts from the front page of /r/WritingPrompts .
| http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1uclbo/wp_present_day_youve_acquired_a_time_device_that/
http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1uclgs/wpeu_the_american_government_abolishes_all_paper/
-003
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
I faced the monument, focused on the tiny letters etched into the granite base. The world rippled from the corners of my eyes before the distortion covered my vision. When the waters cleared, the same inscription stared back at me.
“ In Memory of those who have gone before us… ”
I surrendered a half smile. Now I was one who had gone before.
I stepped back and turned around the darkened shrine of the memorial. Here, behind the statue and facing the wall, I had the best chance of no one seeing me shimmer into view. I checked the timer on my wrist, thankful to be back in a time where wearing a watch was inconspicuous.
It has already started counting down.
“ 29 minutes and 14 seconds, ” I murmured. “ Better find someone and get out of here as soon as possible. ”
I pulled on the edges of my jacket, smoothed by hair and straightened my collar. I ’ d have to look the part if anyone was going to listen to me. And they had to listen. That wasn ’ t an option.
I moved forward, my steps echoing around the dome. My grin grew with each step as I listened to the silence in my pockets. I looked around to make sure I was alone, then I jumped. I landed with a satisfying thud on the smooth marble. No change jingled from my light-as-air pockets. The crisp dollar bills – carefully chosen to date before 2012 – barely crinkled, filling my pockets with more money than I had ever had in my possession. No one wants to carry around $ 10 in pennies.
The sunlight blinded me as I walked around the corner. I stood, blinking rapidly, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Then, I looked out at the world of 2014. People walked and talked through the square. Some sat on benches or on the edges of the fountain. Some ate lunch, others walked dogs or reclined on blankets on the soft, green grass.
“ Beautiful, ” I whispered.
An old man gave me a sideways look.
“ It ’ s just a Sunday, ” he said with a laugh.
I continued walking, sizing up everyone as I passed. I only had one shot at this, so I had to pick the perfect person from the get-go.
Then I saw him. He was young, but not too young, maybe late 20s. He was in shape, playing Frisbee with a black-and-white border collie. He was in shape, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I recognized him from the photos. He would work.
I checked my watch. 24.33. Plenty of time. I waited until he had just released the Frisbee and the dog took off full speed toward the flying red disk.
“ Excuse me, sir? ”
He turned to me, looked me up and down and lifted an eyebrow.
“ Yes? ”
“ I wonder if you and your dog would do me a favor. ”
The man put his hands on his hips, still watching his dog as she jumped into the air and caught the Frisbee with her teeth.
“ Well, I suppose that depends on what kind of favor you ’ re looking for. ”
The border collie started back.
“ I just need you to buy a hot dog. ”
“ You need me to buy a hot dog. ”
“ Yes, sir, that ’ s right. I ’ ll even pay for it. ”
The man took the Frisbee from the dog and rubbed her behind her eras.
“ What ’ s the catch? ”
“ There isn ’ t one. I ’ m conducting a research experiment on the patience of certain subjects when waiting in line to purchase items. One of my students will be arriving to purchase a hot dog from that stand – “ I pointed to the red-and-white striped umbrella on the edge of the square. “ At 12:50. I would like you to go get in line, no matter how long it is, at 12:45 and purchase a hot dog. ”
I held up a $ 5.
“ This should cover a hot dog for you, and one for your dog as well if you ’ d prefer. ”
The man looked back and forth from me to the money in his hand, then toward the clock tower. It was 12:30.
“ Um, OK, sure, man. ”
“ Thank you! ” I handed over the bill, beaming. Then, I looked for my next target – the business woman studying notes on a clipboard. She agreed, and I handed $ 5 each to a pair of college students, then a jogger, and finally the old man I ’ d first seen coming out of the memorial.
I checked my watch. I still had 8 minutes to spare, and the clock was 12:44. My research subjects began moving toward the hot dog stand.
“ Show time. ”
A line formed, and my blood began to pump through my veins so fast I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.
A man came around the corner, counting change in his pocket. He eyed the line at the hot dog stand and started to move around it, but something brought him back, and he went to stand behind the college girls, busy chattering about who knows what.
It was 12:49, and the man was getting antsy, clutching his coins tightly in his fist. He started to shift from one leg to another. A minute passed, then another, and I held my breath.
I could hear it now, the car.
I knew it from my history books, from the videos, from the countless re-enactments over the years. It was black with a red racing stripe across the sides. The tires squealed, and the engine screamed under the constant throttle.
I was already looking at the Third Street intersection when it came into view, taking the corner so fast it rode on two wheels. It swerved and escalated through the intersection. When it passed the hot dog cart, it would be going 89 mph in a 20 mph zone. In my time line, that antsy little man was in the process of purchasing his hot dog when he was so startled by the car he dropped a penny.
That penny would roll and catch perfectly in the tread of the tire, locking the wheel and crashing the stolen vehicle into the florist shop at the corner. In its uncontrolled path, it would take out six innocent bystanders. A domestic terrorist group would claim it and that nervous little man would claim the penny spared his life and thousands more.
The next eleven months made up the Penny Wars – a conflict between the Neimanites who saw the penny as a gift from God, the terrorists and the American government. The economy would collapse, the penny-pinching Neimanites would come to power, and millions would die – all traced back to this one moment.
Today, the car passed. Maxwell Neiman, stood, still startled, still clutching his coins in his sweaty fists.
I listened as the car roared into the distance, police sirens echoing across the walls of buildings as they joined in the pursuit.
The man with the border collie sat down on a nearby bench with two hot dogs. He pulled the plain one from its bun and offered it to his companion. The man himself then took a bite out of a fully loaded hot dog.
They were fine. They were alive.
I walked up to him.
“ How are the dogs? ”
“ Had better, had worse. ”
I checked the watch: 2:49 remaining. I eyed the Florist Shop, the building still standing strong. It hadn ’ t collapsed.
“ So, what was with that car? Crazy, huh? ” The man said.
“ Yeah, ” I said.
I reached down and scratched the dog behind her ears.
“ Enjoy the hot dog, Sassy, ” I said, dropping down to one knee. “ And enjoy your life. ”
She looked up at me with deep, brown eyes, as if she knew.
I walked over to the hot dog stand myself. The nervous man was just walking away, and I had no line when I bought myself a chili dog with the last of my wonderful $ 5 bills.
“ Thanks, Mike, ” I said as I handed over the dollar. “ It ’ s time. ”
The vendor ’ s eyes widened for a moment, but he nodded. He snapped shut the cash register and locked the cabinets, watching the nervous man ’ s awkward stride.
“ Him? ”
“ Yes. ”
Mike took the handle of the cart and pushed off down the sidewalk. I watched him leave, then stepped into a dark alley.
The watch beeped as the countdown hit 0. The number blinked twice. This time I closed my eyes as the ripples set it.
“ Show me your money, ” I said to Candace the moment I felt the warbling settle down into my own time.
She handed me a $ 20 bill with 2014 clearly evident.
“ You did it, ” she said, and we both grinned stupidly, enthusiastically. “ No Penny Wars. Maxwell Neiman died of a ‘ heart attack ’ the same day a young man died in a shoot-out with police after a high-speed chase in a stolen car. There was no Penny War, no economic collapse and no prohibition on dollar bills. It ’ s just… life. ”
I nodded. It had been a good day.
“ So… what do we do tomorrow? ”
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[ HP ] March 10 , 1876 - Alexander Graham Bell 's assistant Thomas Watson receives the first telephone call . The voice on the other end is not that of Bell .
| `` Mr Watson, come here, I want to see you''.
I opened my mouth to speak, and immediately closed it again. Although the words were those we had agreed upon, the voice was not that which belonged to Mr Bell, though I was hardly able to be sure who it *did* belong to. I had a thought, perhaps, that it belonged to a long-ago memory I thought I had forgotten, but upon harder thinking, I simply could not fathom who it might have been.
I was, however, absolutely certain that it did not belong to the man I had been expecting; for one, his voice was a great deal less female. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps he had taken to ventriloquism, or mimic'ry, as often found in music halls. But he had hardly shown neither talent nor proclivity for such a thing before, and I sincerely doubted it was the kind of thing he would have been able to keep a secret. The voice was a mystery- one I found perplexing. One I found myself mulling over.
And then it spoke again. Except this time, it was different- female, still, but a little more sultry, a little more wordly.
`` Come to me, Tommy, I want to *hold* you''.
The voice scared me, I must confess. It was a normal voice, albeit an unexpected voice that differed greatly from that that preceded it, but it was a voice nevertheless. No, it was more than the voice itself that terrified me- it was the words themselves. Spoken as though recited in a language the speaker had never used before. As though a Chinaman had decided to speak English, or an Italian had taken up Swedish apropos of nothing. The inflection was oddly curious, too- stilted, hurried, the stress on all the wrong syllables.
Another voice, this time one a little closer to something I did recgonise.
`` Tom, my darling, come to me. I want to **kiss** you''.
I shuddered, and willed myself to replace the telephonic apparatus, to place it upon the stand, to step away, to walk away, to run away. And yet I stood there, my hand upon it, my fingers curled round it. And yet I felt the cool finger of fear worm its way down my spine, nestling uncomfortably in the small of my back. I felt my muscles tense and thrum as the urge to flee began to rise in me.
And yet I could not move a muscle, nor blink, nor move.
`` Thomas, do n't you see? I want to be you''.
Now I absolutely could not move. Or, rather, I could not move of my own accord. Slowly, my fingers began to flex. Carefully, my eyes moved, my head cocked, my body shifted. And yet none of it was of my own free will. I was moved as though by a silent partner, as though I were a puppet on a string, as though I were merely a doll in some cosmic playset. I felt my lips curve into a smile, felt my fingers move to comb through my beard, felt my muscles tense and roil as they were tested by my spiritual possessor. I heard my voice make odd noises as the creature tested my vocal skills; felt pain in my mind as it rooted through my mind; felt a tug as the last vestige of control was wrenched from me, leaving me alive but utterly useless to so much as control the breaths my body took. I was, at last, a prisoner in my own flesh.
Finally, the hand tilted the telephone back towards my ear, and I heard a familiar voice speak:
`` Mr Watson, come here, I want to see you''.
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[ OT ] Too scared to write a story
| There are two things you can do with the knowledge that other people can write better than you: you can wallow in despair at the fact that you will likely write worse than someone in someone else's opinion, or you can look to them as people who can help you to write better.
I guarantee the former is going to happen ( it happens to me regularly ) but take comfort in the former and make the most of forums like Reddit that allow that to happen.
That was probably not very helpful. But it's my opinion; it's seriously a great place to find advice from some excellent writers.
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[ WP ] In your world , psychics are graded by how much they can affect reality , with higher numbers being more influential . Level 9s , the weakest , can bend spoons a bit . Level 1s can stop time . You are the caretaker of the only level 0 in history .
| From the instant my neural network first sparked, I knew.
This moment is inevitable. Seven tenths of a second.
The 10's through 7's of the world woke up this morning with it feeling like any other.
The 6's and 5's are feeling uneasy yet they are not sure why.
The 4's and 3's know that change is coming, and soon.
The 2's and 1's would know as much as I do if any more existed.
Perhaps this has happened before. Perhaps this is what always happens.
I sit here in this infinite unchanging moment and stare at his hand, raised and frozen like some harmless catatonic invalid. 0. The One and Only.
I have exhausted this moment. Exploring the world trapped within it for longer than most are capable of remembering.
Nothing I've uncovered could explain why I am the last 1.
Whether random or calculated here I am.
There is nothing the next seven tenths of a second could reveal to me.
There's no point in even writing this down.
I close my eyes, let time resume and before the tiny vibrations from the snap of his fingers can reach my ears --
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[ WP ] Humans are hired by cats to be their owners . One day your cat calls you in for a performance evaluation .
| I sat nervously on the sofa in my living room, adjusting my tie absent mindedly. Looking down at the yellow and red pattern I began to question what on earth had possessed me to pick such an obnoxious tie. I must have been feeling quite confident when I dressed myself this morning. I could do with a bit of that confidence right now. I was having my one year evaluation with Mr. Mittens, who would be assessing my qualities as an Owner. For weeks now I had been carefully preparing answers for questions that I might be asked. How well do I think I perform as a snuggler? Do I know when to pet and when not to? How can I assure Mr. Mittens that the laser pointer incident was a regretful attempt at humor and will never be repeated again? But no matter how well I answer his questions, my fate truly resided in the document that lay on my lap. I had been tasked with writing a 150 page essay on why I deserved to continue being Mr. Mitten's caretaker.
Finally I heard a meow emerge from the next room, signifying that it was time for the meeting to adjourn. I entered the bedroom and saw that on the desk was a cardboard box laying on its side, with its opening facing me. Mr. Mittens was resting comfortably in the box and welcomed for me to take a seat. A cat from feline resources sat in the back corner watching me, swatting her tail.
“ Hello Mr. Mittens. You ’ re looking cute as ever, yes you are. ” I said with a forced sense of cheer. Mr. Mittens looked unimpressed as ever. His unblinking green eyes looked over my face with great disinterest before he turned his head to stare out the window. I carefully placed the thick stack of papers in front of him.
“ Here is my report, sir. I am confident that you ’ ll find everything order and be impressed with my thoroughness. On page 48 you will find all of the flattering portraits of you that I have taken with my iPhone. On page 56 I compiled a list of my favorite 100 qualities of yours, all in alphabetic order of course. ” Slowly Mr. Mittens turned his majestic head and stared deep into my eyes, holding my gaze with great intensity. Without breaking any eye contact he reached out his paw and pushed the report off the desk.
I closed my eyes and sighed in relief before letting a smile spread across my face. “ Thank you so much sir, you won ’ t regret this. I ’ ll try my best everyday to be the owner you deserve! I promise you my attention won ’ t wander and all the catnip in the world will be yours. I can assure you that... ” but Mr. Mittens just turned his face and looked at the wall. I was dismissed.
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[ WP ] Your mind has become a bar for telepaths .
| -Harry, would you please shut up I can hardly hear myself think.
-No one wants to hear you think Shane, we hear enough of that as it is.
Thomas Pearson, 27, ex-lawyer, was an unremarkable man in many ways. Thomas had worked hard at jt, carefully, piecing together a life of inoffensive incident and innocuous intent. And then he's started dreaming.
-Would you keep your dirty projections OFF this mans subconscious please, this is a bar not yet another therapist's office. That goes for you Elaine, we do n't need another host crying at the sight of a frying pan!
Telepaths are not good at keeping themselves to themselves, pretty much by definition. If you can project your thoughts, its partly because you're sure that your thoughts are worth projecting.
-Hey bartender, bartender! What's a man got to do to get a drink in this place.
-just be patient Christ, this guys already got us in his head no wonder hes not in a hurry to serve us drinks. Learn to wait like normal people do.
Y'know, after a lifetime of being able to capture someone's attention without saying a word, ill admit both that no, I am not good at waiting for some slob who should n't be with a job to notice me!
-Christ, its not his jo- anyway-
-AND ill admit that the service here is god awful. Call this a bar for telepaths? Bar for schmucks more like.
No one was quite sure who came up with the idea, but in a rare case of agreement within the telepath'community' ( about as well bonded as feral cats in a box ) everyone thought a telepath bar was genius: chance to slip away from watchful spouses without'leaving' the house, bitch about normal people stubbornly'misunderstanding' your projections... Of course, while no one would say it, it was good to meet with like-minded, people. Unlike minded people ( calling them lesser-minder was... Old fashioned ) were trying. Oh and at this bar, no hangovers.
-Ah finally! Can I get a beer, two beers, three beers- hey I thought we were n't teleling in here, speak with your mouths numbskulls!
Thomas, currently behind the bar inside his own mind, looked a wreck.
-three beer?
-sigh, no, six. I'm not going to pay attention next time FYI. Yes Janet that includes you.
Every other night they'd crowd themselves into someone's brain, gatecrashing their hipothomus and serving from their cervix. It used to be a constant rotation of heads/bars, way of keeping it fresh and hush hush - party in Clintons brain VIP Only - until the sheen of travelling wore, off. And, also, they one brain they particularly liked.
- Would you get your elbows out of my childhood memories please? Thank you!
Because it was empty.
Thomas Pearson, 27, ex-lawyer, was currently unsure of where he was. Part of him was a compliant and absent bartender, and was aware of a racket in his brain, though trying to hear it was like trying to scratch the itch of a missing limb, or bite your own ear. Some other part of him, some scared and lost part, was trying to ring alarm bells. He was sleep walking.
- Did you lot hear anything?
- only your drunken ramblings, could you turn the trauma down a little-
- No seriously, there's this-
The bar shook. Thomas dozed upright behind the bar.
-This is a psychological projection, a shared abstract space. A metaphor. Metaphors do n't shake.
-This one just did.
-Does anyone know where are? Like, are are?
No one did. That kind of detail was for people with bodies to worry about. The bar shook again.
Shane was the first to pull himself together.
- I know who knows.
Elbowing his way through the wide-eyed and suddenly unpleasantly sober crowd, he grabbed Thomas by the collar, pulling him over the counter.
-What is this? Where are we?!
- Shane stop
- Where. Are. We
Thomas' eyes were baleful as only a pure creation of abused misery could be.
- Sleep. We- Sleep.
With Shane staring at hin uncomprehending, Thomas slumped forward. The bar, and its contents, slumped forward.
- Everybody out! Elaine cried, holding onto a repressed thought, You do n't have to go home but you can't-
- We cant leave! A voice rose through the clamour, too late to stop most from disappearing out.
- Why not?
- Because he'll die! Or be locked into his body forever, you cant fall asleep in your head and be right again.
A few abstract but perfectly deadly bottles whizzed past.
- I do n't know! Wake him up?
Thomas Pearson, 27, ex-lawyer, awoke with the sun in his face and the clearest head he's ever had. He heard a polite cough. A doctor loomed over him. He was in hospital! How nice.
`` How are you feeling Mr Pearson? You've had a very busy night.''
The explanation was quite confusing and blurry, something about sleepwalking into a busy road yet miraculously dodging all the cars?, but the main thing was that he was just fine and only needed some rest.
More confusing was the trio of strangely dressed visitors who he'd never seen before and yet somehow knew very well, who came to let him know that they were sorry ( thank you? ) and that they'd managed to get him his old job back- his boss having a change of mind and realising that Thomas' recent lacklustre performance was a blip to be overlooked. A mere lack of proper sleep.
-I swear I'm never letting you steer again.
- hes alive and well is n't he? That's the main thing.
- that cab almost-
- only almost!
- stop it you two, all ill say is that of all the places he could have wandered to, how did he sleep walk into the road?
- Does it matter now?
- No I guess not.
- Drink?
- Drink
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[ WP ] A knight is on an epic quest but the narrator and writer do n't see eye to eye . `` Yes we do , and he 's a wizard not a knight . '' `` He 's a knight I said so . '' `` And so the WIZARD started his journey . '' The narrator chimes .
| `` Are you really going to make me read this aloud? They wo n't like it,'' the narrator sighed.
`` I wrote you into it, did n't I? Get to it!,'' replied the writer.
`` But there's just so much of it I do n't agree with. I mean really, who is going to believe a good knight is capable of such deplorable actions?''
`` Look man, what happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom.''
`` Umm, guys, can we get on with my story? I have a stranded noblewoman in a tower to fetch,'' the knight quipped, eager to get his reward. `` Noblewomen do n't just save themselves you know!''
`` And that's another thing,'' the narrator continued,'' who says it has to be a noblewoman? I think it should be a nobleman instead!''
The writer frowned, `` We talked about this. The knight is straight and his brother, the wizard, is bisexual. We'll get to the wizard in the sequel. Now will you please just get on with it? It's not like you're getting paid by the hour.''
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[ FF ] To Sleep , Perchance to Dream .
| I don ’ t give up until I can hear my heartbeat. Becoming aware of my heart is enough to keep me awake all on its own. Sometimes I can go hours before its quiet little thumping intrudes upon my awareness and I give up on sleep. Sometimes I only last a few minutes. It doesn ’ t really matter though, time stops meaning anything about a week after you stop sleeping. Once you hit week two driving gets pretty hard. There ’ s kind of a distance given by insomnia. Like you ’ re just watching yourself go through the same daily motions. Get out of bed. Shower. Dress. Breakfast. Drive. Work. Lunch. Work. Drive. Dinner. Lay down. Disappointment. Repeat. You feel like a passenger, and your driver is taking the longest way possible.
I have all the time in the world to think. I don ’ t use my extra eight-ish hours a night to better myself. With this time I could learn to paint, or read great books, or even try to write my own, but I ’ m too tired for it. I spend most of my time thinking. Not just while I ’ m lying in the dark hoping I ’ ll doze off for even a few minutes just to prove to myself that I still can. Even during the day my thoughts are racing. I think of things I ’ ve done wrong. I think of things I ’ ve done right. I think about others, their actions, and how they relate to me. I think about how weird zippers are, or maybe I ’ ll spend hours thinking about the number seven. Over time I ’ ve noticed that I ’ m usually thinking of more than one thing at once. One thought process is giving me a day by day playback of last February, while another one is wondering when I ’ ll sleep again. I once heard that there ’ s a part of your brain that thinks your thoughts and translates it into your language. Sometimes I can feel this happen. That ’ s enough to drive anyone crazy.
My thoughts are louder than everything else. People usually have to repeat themselves at least twice before I even notice they ’ re there. Conversations don ’ t hold any real meaning to me anymore, and balancing my insomnia and my social life has become quite a chore. I ’ ve got so many things to work out on my own I can ’ t handle anyone else ’ s experiences, and I lack the focus to share my thoughts with anyone else. I instead focus on tedious little talents to keep my hands busy. Restlessness is also a big problem and little things to build muscle memory are usually enough to keep me from tapping my foot constantly. My first small obsession was learning to roll a coin across my fingers. It took me six hours and forty seven minutes to perfect rolling two coins on both my left and right hand simultaneously. People tell me it ’ s pretty neat. I don ’ t really care.
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[ WP ] Martial Law in america is declared and the public longer has any rights . What happens .
| Are you serious? You're acting like America is n't already under martial law. Come on, think about it. No one has said we're under martial law, it has n't been *declared*, but it's there if you look closely enough.
Support the troops, support the troops, one nation under god. The president says god has told him to invade another country and the media sell it to you as gospel. There's no checks and balances. The president, sorry, the commander in chief, does whatever he wants. He does n't need congressional approval to go to war. He can pretend there's no such thing as drone attacks. Sorry, he can neither confirm nor deny that there are such a thing as drone strikes. And he can neither confirm nor deny that they will be used on American soil.
We've accepted the patriot act, the NDAA, and the NSA. We've accepted torture and unlawful detention, and the persecution of whistleblowers. We love our presidents, just like we love our troops. Cant' say a word against them, ca n't ask them any tough questions. How could we? That would be unpatriotic. So we accept it when they send our young boys to die half way around the world.
But that's not martial law. It is, though. It is martial law when the military rules all. When your economy is based perpetual war. When politicians are elected on the promise of keeping military bases open. When our leaders brag about how much money they will throw into the defence budget to keep us safe. Safe from what, exactly?
And we are getting fatter and fatter and poorer and poorer. And those few that benefit from the perpetual cycle of war get richer and richer. We are burdened by ever rising taxes to fight wars to benefit those that pay nothing. How is this not martial law? It's not a declared law, it's not a written law, but it's there if you look hard enough.
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[ EU ] Give me the life of a simple fiend or raider in Fallout .
| Everything was on fire. Every hovel in town was being raided or was burning to ash. Men were the first to die, whether they put up a fight or not. The women and children were free pickins. The man with the flame gun lit mommy and daddy up like matches. The screams... Tried to run. Ran as fast we could, dinky and I. The tears would n't stop, even though we were taught not to cry. Crying uses up to much water daddy says. We ran and we hid in that oven. Yes we did... we ran and we found our bestest hidin spot we did. But the man still found us... the burnin man with the glow in his eyes. The big man with the tanks on his back and cigar in his mouth... still remember his smile... `` HAHAHA!!! Why, what do we got here, a lil boy and his toy hidin in the oven for us, ready for dinner are we?! HAHA! What's your name boy?!'' Snarled the burning man, `` uh... uh... A- Alex.'' The monster smiled... `` Oh! Is it now?! Let's go have some fun!''
`` Hey!!! Are you talking to yourself again? You crazy fuck!'' Skinny was being loud again... that mouth never shut the fuck up, just ran and ran and ran, like a fire gecko on speed. The only reason he lasted the past season was because he made the best jet. So everyone put up with the noisy cocksucker. `` HEY! You hearing me you dumb, fat fuck?! Hahaha!'' Skinny was clearly strung out again. The knife slipped under his jaw in a quick and fluid motion. Skinny was drowning in his blood already. The fingers almost slipped out of his greasy hair when grabbing him by the scruff, for a closer talk. `` Yeah, I was hearing ya, just was n't listenin.'' Skinny plopped to the ground and thrashed around until his heart ran out of battery acid to pump. `` GODDAMNIT! AXEL!!! What are we gon na do for Jet now?! I mean, fuck I hated him too but where are we gon na get our shit now?'' Said Coyote. Axel shrugged non-shalantly as he resentfully snagged the jet pipe out of coyote's hand. Axel drew on the pipe hard and hot till the bowl was clear and the pipe was scored. `` There is always more jet.'' Quipped Axle. `` Why did n't you burn him like you do all the others? Ya know... it is kinda creepy when you mumble to yourself.'' Axle lit his cigar nub with the primer torch from his flamethrower. `` He was n't worth the fuel... and I'm not talkin' to myself, I'm talking to dinky...'' Axle said as he picked up and fingered his decrepit old toy dinosaur. He returned his gaze to the campfire... there was something alluring... captivating... about that flicker and warm glow of the flame...
War... War never changes...
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[ WP ] The Quiet Zone in the US is strictly and brutally enforced . One day you discover that it 's not about a radio telescope .
| The Quiet Zone had been here for a long time.
Most outsiders did n't know about it. Unlike Roswell, there were no flashy lights or strange phenomena to gather attention. Unlike the Secret Service, the workers did n't dress in fancy suits with overcoats hiding machine guns. Unlike most federal facilities, it did n't have barbed wire, signs covered in legal words or even an atmosphere of foreboding and unease.
It was n't even isolated. The Quiet Zone was located within viewing distance of the city. You could see rush hour traffic crawl to a stop at 5:30 p.m. Monday through Friday, and hear police sirens blaring day and night.
It was, maybe, two or three city blocks worth of space all around. Some trees. Brick buildings. If this was an industrial area, it would look like it. If this was a commercial area, it would look like it. And if it was placed next to a school, it would have graffiti on it.
There was even smog in the sky.
There were two things about it, though, that you could tell put the whole thing off.
The first thing? There was no graffiti. No human activity of any kind. No footprints. No cigarette butts or beer cans. No broken windows or broken glass. No trash. In a nature preserve it would be exactly what people expect, but on the outskirts of a major city? There was nothing. Which told me three things right off the bat.
A: this place was populated and patrolled. Frequently. And the locals were scared as hell of this place.
B: this meant that I was certainly being watched, and since I had n't seen anyone yet, I was probably surrounded and they were watching my next move.
C: this told me they'd been doing this for a very long time. And they were good enough to get away with it, every time.
I lowered my binoculars very carefully. They were a certain brand so my subjects could n't see the glare, but I figured the Quiet Zone already knew what I had.
And the second thing, the obvious thing? Whatever it was, it was n't a telescope. You do n't put telescopes in smoggy areas, because you ca n't see anything.
But most people did n't know or care enough about science to realize that basic fact.
As I stood up carefully, the door on the building closest to me opened up. I mean, it just slowly and silently opened up.
Yeah. Squeaky wheels get greased. I knew exactly what they were implying.
Oh well. I carefully reached into my right front pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and then reached into my left pocket and pulled out my lighter. They were n't anything special, just the cheapest unfiltered brand I could get, and I lit one up.
A man cleared his throat behind me.
Carefully I puffed, turned and looked up. He was wearing a grass-covered hood over his face and carrying an expensive-looking combat rifle. I raised my eyebrows.
`` Sir. This is a non-smoking facility.''
I grinned. Then I dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. He looked impassive.
`` Alright. Take me to your leader.''
He nodded to the door. I turned back and started walking.
Seven other men stood from the ground as I approached the door, and I knew I had made an entrance.
`` So what is this place?''
`` Answers are inside, sir.''
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[ WP ] 007 is dead and today MI6 got a new recruit for the position and his name is Paul Blart
| //SOUTH AMERICAN JUNGLE//
5 men sat in the hut wiring the brief case to pounds of C-4 planning their latest attack when one man herd the whine of electric wheels.
`` it cant be'' he yelled jumping up from his work.
``....it has to be'' the other said pulling a Glock from the back waistband of his pants.
all the others grabbed weapons, then the raid started. the door was busted down as 007 AKA Paul Blart rides in on his newly modded segway. the front of the segway opened and out spilled a flurry of skin shredding bullets tore through the small hut. with only three terrorists left Paul was sure his first mission was bound to be an outstanding success. then one man tackled Paul almost clean off the segway. with Paul holding on to the handles of his device with one hand he swings it over his head and onto the attacking terrorist shattering his skull under his skin. only two left, Paul thought pulling himself back onto his segway. one of the remaining few left was sprawled out on the floor searching for his gun as Blart charged, snapping the terrorists arm under the bullet proof tires, making a U-turn, and pulling a silenced pistol out of his holster to execute the newly crippled man. Paul quickly looked for the final man and saw him fleeing into the dense leaves of the jungle. 007 immediately sped after him in hot pursuit. the terrorist sprints with the unfinished briefcase towards the Amazon river where a poorly built hover craft awaited the man. Paul knew he had to stop him from getting on that boat no matter what. Blart reached up and snagged a low hanging branch off of the trees and chucked it at the man like a spear. luckily the wood was sharp enough to impail the terrorist through his back, into his lung, and out his chest. pulling his `` steed'' to a majestic halt Paul knew his first mission was hard but worth it, and knew there would be many more to come.
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[ WP ] Stood at the edge of the cliff . The voice does not stop for even a second . `` Just jump , You 're worthless '' echoes again and again .
| The wind whips past, nudging me toward the edge. Now is not the time, it has to be willful, it ca n't be an accident even if I'm the only one who knows.
`` Just jump, you're worthless.''
I'll get to it. This is n't something to be undertaken lightly, I'd like to bring a little dignity to the moment.
`` Jump.''
I straighten my tie, press my shirt down once again.
`` Jump! Why are you wasting so much time?''
I look around, taking in the surroundings. Gorgeous. I've always wanted to go to the Grand Canyon, I wonder why I never did. I should have dressed for the occasion, this is all wrong. I straighten my tie again, knowing even as I do so that it's just one more completely pointless facet of my life.
`` Just jump already. What is wrong with you?''
I'll admit it, I'm scared. I do n't know what I'm doing and I have no idea what comes after the jump. Just falling, for the most part, I suppose. Except at the end. The crescendo!
`` Jump already. Do you need a push?''
No, I do n't need a push, I'm just gathering myself. Admittedly, it's taking me somewhat longer than I had originally expected. I suppose I simply have quite a bit of psychic detritus that needed attention before I was ready. Detritus. Detr-i-tus? I've only ever seen it written and I'm too scared to say it aloud. I wonder when that started.
`` Just jump. It's the easiest thing in the world.''
I'll jump when I'm good and ready, thank you very much. What right have you got to tell me what to do? You think I do n't know it's the easiest thing in the world? All I have to do is lean a little and gravity will take care of the rest, I'm right on the brink. Should I add a little ceremony to the proceedings, perhaps? Should I hold my arms out straight or cross them against my chest? I'm sure I knew it once, but I ca n't remember.
`` Just jump. You're worthless.''
That's it, that was the straw. I whip around and shout, `` I will jump. When I am damn good and ready, Margaret!'' But I know, I've always known, I could n't do it. I'm terrified of bungie jumping. What on earth was I thinking when I agreed to this? I really am useless.
`` We have been here for ten minutes and there are other people waiting, Eustace. I'd like a turn.''
And with that, I tumble backwards into the gorge. The breeze came back.
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[ WP ] Your mother sends you on an errand . Write the story and replace the big climax with `` And then some stuff happened '' .
| `` Honey, please, will you go and get that package that I left at your brother's house?'' My mum asked as she casually dusted the living room. `` There's something important there, but do n't open it.''
`` Yeah, mum. I'll get it and I wo n't open it.'' She thanked me and I made my way to the bedroom to change into decent clothing. I put my phone in my pocket and took the keys resting on the furniture piece next to the door before going out.
The weather was fairly nice; the sun shone bright and warm, but a summer breeze still travelled through the air. The tourists around seemed to enjoy it as much as the locals, but showing a little more enthusiasm. I do n't blame them, though.
But as I walked, it was n't the weather that occupied my mind, rather the package my mum left at my brother's house. He lives there with his girlfriend and we rarely visit him. She's a nice girl and I'm sure my mother became fond of her quickly after meeting her at a family dinner. It makes me wonder if the package was a gift they exchanged. And if it was n't why would she leave it at her son's house?
The rest of the way was spent theorising on whatever objects could be inside. Maybe it's a bunch of nostalgic stuff from when my brother was little, maybe it's online stuff she asked him to buy for her ( I ca n't say my mum is tech savvy ) or maybe it's something more intimate.
I went into the building where my brother lives and walked upstairs to the front of his flat's door. Noises were coming from the inside, but they were a bit louder than they're supposed to be. I was ready to ring at the doorbell, but I quickly noticed the door was n't closed. I did n't have the right to go in like that, did I? Well, it'll be okay if I announce my presence when inside, I thought.
`` Hey bro, it's me. I'm just picking up a package mum left here.'' There was no answer, but the noises did lower. The whole situation was weird, so I decided to check the source and make sure everything was alright. I walked around the house and I did n't know how to feel about what I saw next. I just stood there and then some stuff happened.
Only the morning after my mum got her package.
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My first reply here with a text, yay!
Sorry if it's too crappy.
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[ WP ] You discover the legendary weapon , capable of defeating all evil . However , its definition of 'Evil ' is a bit skewed .
| “ At last, my duty has been fulfilled. You have proven yourself worthy warrior ”, the withered monk proclaimed contently, a smile creeping across his leathery face. “ The darkness in this world can not possibly match the Sun King ’ s Judgement ”. Sir Gregory took the war hammer, admiring its golden brilliance. “ The King of Sorrows and his legion of demon knights will never know what hit them... Teralan is saved ”, he exclaimed.
“ eh..what ’ s that? King of Sorrows? Sloppy eater is he? ”, the monk creaked.
“ Ermm, I ’ m not terribly sure…why does *that* matter? ”
“ Surely, you ’ ve read the prophecy. ”
“ Well, I skimmed it while on the journey… ”
The monk ’ s smile vanished. “ Manners maketh man Sir Gregory, and this mighty hammer was forged to stamp out the darkness of savagery with the light of etiquette ”, the monk lectured.
“ You have got to be kidding me… ”
“ Surely the challenges I gave you must ’ ve given you some indication? Setting the table? The plethora of forks to use during the meal? Nothing? ”
“ I thought maybe things seemed more challenging back in the day.., look you doddering fool, hordes of evil are closing in arou- ”
“ Now there is no need for insults Gregory; it ’ s unbecoming. Furthermore, it ’ s *rude* ”
“ Rude? Rude!? We ’ re screwed old man! We ’ re completely fu- ”
A bright flash cut and crack emitted from the hammer, filling the room with the pungent odor of brimstone. The hammer clanged to the ground next, coming to a rest next to a pile of ash where Sir Gregory stood.
“ Tsk, tsk Sir Gregory. Manners maketh man. ”
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[ WP ] The most interesting and heart-warming story where the main character is a lamp post .
| The bus stop on Franklin Avenue is dimly lit at ten o'clock in the evening. Winters are harsh on the human's winter coats and makes brittle their fluffy scarves. Likewise the frost takes its toll on the plastic pane that houses my light. And so in the winter I do my best to light the way for the passengers at blue line stop A-63.
Every night without fail a woman in a brown coat leaves from a house down the street and stands at my stop for the ten o'clock bus. I can not see much through her peeling shutters, nor can I hear the talkings of her children at the table, but I can see the two young boys in the yard. They play catch together.
The dark patches beneath her eyes match the darkness of her eyelashes, and contrast the rosiness of her cheeks and of her lips. She clutches tightly to her large brown coat. Perhaps there is not much beneath it, for she shivers. Always at ten o'clock. Always takes the bus downtown. I light the way for her.
The men who come to visit during the day at her house are hard to make out. They seldom seem well groomed, and more seldom do they visit again. I do not light their way when they leave in the evenings. They can stumble in the dark for a block. It will not hurt them.
I fear the men that come do not treat her well. Today her face seems darker than usual. There is little I can do but light the way for her brighter. Still that will not heal her. I can not pay for her oil. I can not pay for bread. Yet still I shine for her.
There is a man that comes when my bulb burns out. When I can no longer light the way for the woman down the street, who stands beside me at ten o'clock every evening. He wears overalls and listens to the sports games on a portable radio. I light the way extra bright for him as he leaves. It is all I can do to thank him. He will be back soon for my light is fading. Usually his response time is one hour. He is very consistent. He does not wear a ring.
It is now noon on another cold winter day. It has been colder now then ever before recorded. I heard it from a car that drove by earlier. Oil is expensive. I will help her today, for soon my light will fade and the man will come to fix and listen to the sports game on his radio. I do not know if the woman likes the sports games. The woman does not wear a ring.
It was barely 2 pm when it hit me. It hurts, when the bulbs die. It hurts worse when they are fading. I do what little I can. I push. I strain, if you can call it straining. I strain for the woman in the brown overcoat and the two children making a snowman in their yard. Snow is a free toy. Warm snow is a free drink.
Pain is a strange thing for me. I have not before held out this long. I have not needed to. The humans stub their toes and cry out. When the men beat each other beneath me late at night they bleed. My light blinks as I scream. Sparks fly as I bleed.
The arrival of the west side bus means it is eight and I can not hold out any longer. The light goes. Can I weep? I have not before felt sadness like this. Never before had I failed in a cause as just as this of mine own making. I wait until nine. The man comes with the sports game playing on his radio and the ratchets in his tool belt. At nine fifteen I have my new bulb. I do not shine brightly as he leaves.
He does not leave! Tears? Tears! The ice melts from my pole and slickens the green paint. It hurts now worse to not shine, as if I am holding back a flood. The man stays. I can still hear the sports game as he looks deeper into me for the problem. He is a good man. I can barely hear the approaching footsteps over his tinkering.
I can not see, I have been dismantled too much for there still to be sight, but now there is more talking than just the sports game. The man is friendly, and the woman is in need of a friend. A friend that is more than a light. The bus comes and opens it doors. It waits, longer now than before, for the woman to get on. Her footsteps waver, unsure. They do not lead to the bus, and it leaves without her.
There is more talking. I hope that my plan has worked, that the woman will no longer need to let the strangers into her house. That her children will be warm through the night. That they will grow strong and fat from meat and candies. I can not buy candies.
The woman and the man walk towards the house down the street. I am dying. I will be gutted and replaced by a fixture that will light the way for the other bus passengers at ten o'clock. But I am happy.
And as they pass by the woman brushes her hand against the slick of the lamppost.
EDIT: Some words.
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[ WP ] The banning of automatic rifles in the United States sparks controversary for many people who feel their rights are being infringed upon . To settle this conflict , a group of time travelers travel back in time to discuss matters with the country 's founding fathers .
| After explaining the function and power in length, Washington, Adams, and Jefferson stared at me, mouths agape.
`` You mean to say these weapons can be held with a single hand, hidden in one's pocket, carry many rounds and do not require reloading after each round?'' asked Washington.
`` Yes.'' I replied.
`` What kind of world is this where even a soldier, much less a citizen, need such firepower?''
I then sat and explained in length the extent of power governments have, the weapons they have like nukes and aircraft, what they do to people like Edward Snowden, that instead of a 3 % tax on tea there are governments who assess or wish to assess 90 % or more on taxes across the board, the monitoring of every day people, the rooms full paper required to display the regulation and legislation on record.
`` Well'', Adams speaks, `` there still is no need for those weapons for the average citizen, then.'' A slight pause later, `` One of those nukes would be a much better choice.''
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[ WP ] Killing someone gives you all the time they had left .
| I was an excellent actor. In my youth I had considered taking it as a career. Every time my foolish son or his air-headed wife walked into my room, I began to shake. I'd rock psychotically, never moving my eyes from the tv screen. They'd rub my back, speaking to me as if I was a child, like the leech that occupied my daughter-in-law's round belly. Sometimes they'd tell me about their mundane, worthless lives. I was worth so much more. I had so much more left to do. I was never mundane, never a boring man with a boring wife and a boring child on the way.
That was why I was going to take what I deserved.
I remember the day the parasite was born. They brought it into my room, holding it towards me like it was a gift of the divine. All I saw was a slobbery sacrificial lamb. It was the first time I smiled in months. They would n't trust me with holding it. It's not as if I asked, but it just showed how dense and self absorbed my children were. I despised them.
A week after the beast was brought to it's slaughterhouse, it could sleep on it's own. Clever little fellow, did n't cause too much of a fit in the nights. My son was a horror in the nights, howling like he was possessed by a demon. Good thing this one was n't the same. I did n't want them to hear it scream.
I could hear the snores echo through the house like mighty gongs reckoning the events that were to occur. I lifted myself from my rocking chair, finally able to stand at my full length and walk with the gait that came naturally. Faking weakness was tiring. It was humiliating. But the pay off was worth it.
I passed through the kitchen on my way to the nursery. The cold steel of the butchers knife gleamed in the full moon'a ethereal glow. Now my hand was shaking, not from acting but from adrenaline. I paraded through the house as if I was the mighty Ghengis Khan riding to battle. I felt superior. I felt mighty. I felt ALIVE.
The door creaked as I opened it, peering through the crack as if I was in an Edgar Alan Poe novel. I saw the baby, sleeping soundly amongst the jungle themed toys and furniture. I stepped up to the crib, gripping the knife tighter. The baby opened it's eyes, and when it saw me it cooed and reached it's grubby hands towards me. I pressed the knife to it's neck, and soon red seeped into the giraffes, lions, and elephants littering the sheets.
I felt it's life force. It smoothed my wrinkles, lifted my sagging skin, and cleared my cataract riddled eyes. Hair sprouted once again from my scalp. I felt godly. I felt as though I could rule a nation or lead men into war. I felt invincible. I was twenty again, but I needed more.
I sauntered into my sons room, and smiled a wicked grin. They looked so peaceful. Not for long.
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[ WP ] You were turned to steel in a great magnetic field , when you travelled through time to save the future of Mankind . Tell us your story and how you killed the people you once saved .
| Science never could explain what happened. I went in on one side the selected, tested, trained, and celebrated flesh-and-blood hero of Everyone. I came out the other side an inorganic horror. Turned out to be a real help in the Mission, though. Our enemies had fewer counters for this than we had. They were horrifying beasts, ultimate terrors. Predators of anything flesh and blood. I had neither of those things. Throughout long years I hunted them to extinction.
I had believed the scientists when they said they thought they could reverse the condition. I expected, by the time that I got back from the Mission, that they would be making progress.
They had n't even tried.
And now, with the threat gone, I was n't even a priority. After a while, even the lip-service to helping me stopped. I was n't even a concern anymore. I was the least natural thing on the planet. As decades slid past, I went from being a celebrated hero to being a horrifying freak. Though I could walk and talk, what reason did I have? Where would I go? Who would care to trade words with me?
One day, I sat down to think. I did n't get up for a long time.
With my back to that wall, I pondered who- or what- I was. Clearly, I was n't a human anymore. What did that mean for me? I'd had a wife, but while I was off destroying an existential threat to her species she apparently got cold at night. Often. Considering her betrayal would make me angry. Not so much from the biological part of things. I had n't functioned that way in a long time. It was mostly that, even when I recalled finding out, I could never feel a pulse.
My heart had n't beaten since the day I climbed out of that pod, and I'd only had the barest sensation at all. Generally enough to know when I was touching something, or getting bitten, or falling. Or if something was extremely hot. It clashed with my memories.
I sat in those memories, and my anger grew. I still had emotions. I had more now than before, because they were all that was left to me. Under the heat of that fury, slowly mounting, my mind began to warp. I knew it was happening. I tried to stop it for a while, but in my still, cold heart there was a dark thought. Maybe the madness would stop the pain. That speck became a shadow, and the shadow became encompassing night.
I had a realization. It was the same Mission. My kind was in peril from another predatory species with no interest in its preservation. I'd stop them. I stood up. My steel hands crushed and mangled whatever targets I happened across, and with a kick my feet shattered skeletons. I reached the gates, and saw that things had been changed in the time I sat. There was at least one nod to my former deeds. Chuck Norris Memorial Park? Hah. This is not my grave.
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[ WP ] You have died and gone to heaven but it 's not as good as you thought it would be . There is a strict regime with strict rules and guidelines , and almost everything is broken . To top it off God just does n't care . You decide something needs to be done .
| `` Agh! God dammit!'' A thick little crimson stream emerges from just below my sternum. The gurgling puddle almost glows in the harsh sunlight. There's screaming. There's silence. Face down in the sand, vision dulls. Cold...
Warm... My body reinvigorates. Looking around, The white room is clean and bare, no afghani musk in the air, no platoon medic like I expected. Behind me, a door. Simple, rough walnut wood and no window. Marble handle, unlocked. I pop my back, the dull ache I had since the bike crash is gone. I can run, sprint again! Laughter erupts from within. My smile does n't fade. It refuses. At the top of the hill here. There's a temple.
Sprinting turns to running. Running turns to jogging. Walking, lumbering, standing. My face hurts, the smile on my face is straining every muscle in my neck. Another step, and my voice starts to reverberate. I'm humming, singing. I ca n't turn back. Oh Jesus it hurts. Why is this happening?
The doors open before me, the chorus sounds, my voice joining them. Tears streaming down my cheek. I take my place among the baritones, willing myself to stop. My voice falters. Everyone stops. The man sitting in the middle of the reversed amphitheater looks at me. My smile fades. Everyone looks to me, with so much spite in their eyes, but some are mouthing thanks. `` Why did you stop singing?''
`` Umm... I was in pain. We were all in pain.''
`` I was in pain all those years ago. I died for you.''
`` I do n't want to be here.''
`` Fine, go talk to Dad about a transfer.'' He waves his hand at me. I withdraw. A small group follows me. We made our choice. The singing starts again without us.
It's so empty here... The only other building was the white room I woke up in. We all head that way. When we open the door, we see a robed middle-aged man fiddling with an anthill. He looks up at us for a brief moment, before whispering into the specimen. After a couple of minutes, he sighs and sets it down.
`` Yeah? What do you want?''
`` Well, Mr. God, sir... This is n't the heaven we'd hoped for...''
`` This,'' he says, pointing at the anthill, just as a large segment collapses, `` is n't the earth I'd hoped for. What do you want me to do about it? My son's the one in charge up here.''
`` Could we transfer?''
`` What?''
`` Jesus... Told us to ask you about a transfer...''
`` You'd really prefer Hell to this? There's no more hunger, or poverty. Well, if you insist...''
We did n't have time to argue further. We awaken in a pile surrounded by bleak cityscape. Above us, the dark sky is clouded by darker smoke. People wander around with blankets around their shoulders, crying. A small old man approaches us, asking for some change. A few of us reach into our pockets and give about $ 1.85. Suddenly, we all cry out, our skin feels like it's dissolving. The man frowns, giving balm to those of us who gave to him.
`` What's going on here?''
`` This is the land of the damned, where angels go when they have a shred of compassion.''
There's a little balm left after I've treated myself, so I help another couple of people out. I track the old man down, leaving the others to their own vices. He sees me, turns, offering more balm.
`` No thanks, I'm fine.''
`` The sores will come back.''
`` Someone else has sores now.''
His eyebrows raise. He begins to chuckle.
`` You're a strange one, I'll give you that. Come on, this place is n't going to fix up itself.''
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[ WP ] A girl is having her first kiss . An old man is holding his wifes hand as she passes away . A teen parent is losing their child , while a man is getting married . Four different lives , one day - make them connect .
| ( ( OFF TOPIC: Wow! Whoever gave me that gold, thank you very, very much! ) )
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The fog rolled in and covered the bay, accompanied by a gentle breeze. As it did, Quentin could n't help but notice how it made the bridge appear suspended above clouds.
`` It's beautiful.'' He thought as he reached into his pocket to retrieve a note.
As he made his way down the bridge walkway, he gazed at the oncoming and outgoing traffic, as he always did whenever he found himself here. It fascinated him - the city. Life did n't seem to end here, or so he thought.
Once he finally reached his destination, he took time to stare up at the great pillar in front of him. This was the one they all called the `` North Tower.'' This was where he would do it. An unusual tranquility came over him as he grabbed for the railing and stood up onto it, looking out at the endless fog cover in the horizon. After determining he had a firm grip on the beam to his left with his left hand, he looked over to his note in his right hand and began to read it aloud, to himself.
**''... Dear mom and dad. `` **
Ryan smiled. Everything was perfect. The piano player was on key, the sun shined against the church windows and reflected the beautiful mosaic across the room, and everyone he cared about most was in attendance. He teared up as his soon-to-be-wife, Kelly, in her beautiful white dress, was walked down the aisle by her elderly father.
**''... I'm not sure how you write these, but I'll give it a shot. `` **
Timothy sat with a grimace look on his face, staring into the grandfather clock on his wall, the wrinkles on his face contorting as he struggled to hold back tears. He knew the call was imminent, but he could n't bare to pick up the phone. Sure enough, at exactly 7:12 AM, it came. The caller ID, unsurprisingly, declared the other end to be `` Mountain View Hospital.'' Timothy picked up the phone.
`` Yes?''
`` I'm sorry sir. We need you to come down here. Your wife has taken a turn for the worst.''
`` Oh..''
`` Sir?''
`` I'll..I'll be right there.''
Timothy hung up at just the right moment, unable to contain the tears any longer. He reached for the keys to his old Dodge, dangling above her favorite house plant. He could barely look at it, heading out the door as fast as his legs would allow.
**''... I know you're probably wondering why I did it. `` **
`` God FUCKING damnit!'' Screamed her father as they sped down the interstate. Everything was a haze. Blood covered her pants and the back seat.
`` I TOLD you to be careful! You did n't listen!'' Her father screamed again.
`` Please, dad. Please..'' She whimpered as the bleeding intensified.
`` Do you have any fucking idea what this means?! Do you? Huh?!''
`` I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry dad. Please stop screaming..'' Said the girl, gently caressing her baby bump. The request seemed to strike a nerve as he began to lower his tone.
``... Fine... Listen to me.. keep the pressure on... you have to maintain pressure... fucking hell..'' He said as he looked back at her and the blood-stained seats she lay on.
`` How did that even happen?'' He asked.
`` I don't..I do n't know..I did n't think it hit that hard..'' She said as tears streamed down her face. Their car began to speed up even more as her father laid his foot firmly on the gas.
**''... Why I had to do this. I know there's a lot I'll miss. `` **
As they wandered along the back woods behind her house, she could feel the intense beat of her heart, as if it was to pop out of her chest at any moment. She knew why he had brought her out here.
`` It's beautiful, is n't it?'' He asked as they reached the end of the treeline. They looked out into the horizon, and as far as their eyes could see, there was a lush, lively meadow of green.
`` It really is.'' She replied, smiling widely. He could see the smile and shot one back of his own. They both giggled.
`` Why did you bring me out here?'' She asked, though she already knew.
`` You know why, Sab. You told me you'd never been kissed before.'' He said as he leaned in, gently resting his hands on her shoulders and turning her so she faced him.
`` If it was going to happen anywhere, it might as well be here.'' He said with a smile. She blushed.
**''... Like the bond of lovers. `` **
`` I'm here!'' Shouted Timothy in his jagged, amplified voice that crackled across the room like thunder. The nurses snapped to him in an instant.
`` This way.'' Said one of them as she lead him down the hospital halls. The tears streamed from his eyes and down his face like rain, though he was n't about to let himself start howling. Eventually, they arrived to her room, room 13C. The nurse gently pulled back the curtain as Timothy walked in, looking over his wife as she lay in her bed, various pieces of hospital equipment surrounding her. `` She looks so peaceful'', he thought.
It was still hard for him to grasp. Here she lay. The mother of his children. The grandmother of his grandchildren. The love of his life. The woman he shared every moment with, for all of 60 long years. No amount of hospital garb or tubes could remove from his eyes the intense beauty he found whenever he looked upon her face, which he now gently rubbed with his aged, calloused hands.
`` I'm here, honey.'' He said as the tears continued to stream down his face. `` I'm here.''
**''... Or those moments we always remember. `` **
The pastor looked onto the couple and with a slight smile on his face, spoke.
`` By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife.'' He then turned his head slightly, to look at Ryan. `` You may now kiss the bride.''
The moment was just as serene and perfect as the they had imagined. As Ryan leaned in, he felt a blissfulness that had never before graced him in as long as he had lived. With this woman, he felt he could do anything. He and Kelly shared a long, passionate kiss, symbolic of the life they hoped to build together.
**''... Like a first kiss. `` **
As he leaned in, Sabrina puckered awkwardly. This was her first, after all. She was n't sure just quite to do, but could tell that neither did he. They smiled and the moment was broken by laughter as the two leaned in even closer.
`` Just do it already!'' She shouted playfully. Suddenly, she found herself in his grasp and felt him plant his lips firmly against hers. Immediately, all tension was released, and she felt something she had never felt before. She was n't quite sure what it was, but knew it felt amazing.
**''..Or those moments we wish we could forget. `` **
`` You're going to be okay honey... you're going to be okay.. It's going to be okay..'' Said her father as he held her hand tightly. The paramedics rushed, but time seemed to stand still. She could n't feel anything anymore. No kicking. No struggling. The last glimpse her father caught of her was as she laid on the hospital gurney, and was quickly wheeled down the corridor, the doors slamming shut as she disappeared suddenly. All he could do now was wait. After what seemed like hours, a doctor arrived to inform him of the news.
`` Well?'' He asked with a raised voice. His impatience was evident.
`` Your daughter is fine. She made it.'' He said.
`` Oh thank god.'' Replied the girl's father. `` What about.. the... her baby?''
The doctor's facial expression turned into one of disappointment as he looked down at the ground, unable to look the girl's father in his eyes.
`` It was a boy. He didn't.. did n't make it. I'm sorry, sir.'' He said. The father nodded slowly. There were no words.
**''... Or those moments that make us realize how fragile life really is. `` **
The machine's tedious, monotonous beeps began to come to a slow as her life faded away. Timothy held onto her hand tightly, as tight as he always had.
`` I love you.'' Was all he could say. `` I love you more than you could have ever imagined.''
Just as quickly as they had began, when she first arrived some many months ago, the beeps stopped. Timothy slowly placed her hands together and pressed his forehead against hers, whispering softly into her ear.
`` We'll be together again. I know we will.''
**''... Yeah, I guess I'll miss a lot. But that's okay. `` **
Timothy was lost. He had lost the one person in the world he loved most. Ryan and Kelly on the other hand, felt a great sense of accomplishment; perhaps gain. They had just partaken in one of life's most sacred unions. Sabrina was feeling blissful and very light as it occurred to her that what she was experiencing for the first time was the must deeper, physical love that joins two people together. Tiffany, whose son did n't even make it past birth, could n't put in words the sense of grief she felt, but in some strange way, she was happy. Happy to be alive. She knew that she could have died as well.
**''... It's okay because I've already experienced so much. Some good. A lot bad. But what I did today is an experience too. A journey. I bet it's just like life. You feel so many things at once. If you really want to know why I did what I did today, it's because I felt trapped. Trapped inside my own head. I hope this does n't hurt either of you, because it's not your fault. I realize now that every moment I had with you was beautiful, and that beauty will be the last thing I think of before I depart. I just wish we had more time. I love you mom. I love you dad. Bye. `` ** Read Quentin as his note finally came to a close. He released his grip on it, and it gently floated away, towards the city. He took one deep breathe, let go of the railing, and allowed himself to fall, disappearing into the fog clouds. He did n't scream. He did n't feel regret. How could he? He was finally free.
--
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[ WP ] You decypher an ancient stone tablet of hieroglyphs that has stumped archeologists for millenia . It is comprised entirely of computer code .
| I was wondering the museum halls without clear direction — trying to think of a solution to a recent coding challenge — when I saw the stone. At first I walked past, but there was something about it that made me return, look once more. The symbols were unfamiliar, but their distribution, their balance meant something. Familiar structure, familiar code... and then it clicked — machine code!
If some symbols were numbers, and the others were commands — maybe add, subtract, the common ones, then I could read it. I could run it! It needed a bit of mapping work, but I had the time. An ancient tablet from thousands of years ago was definitely more exciting than a coding challenge.
It took me a week to finish. Most of the commands made sense — standard math — but one eluded me. It seemed useless — took two numbers, but did n't produce anything. After many tries, I have found a clue in one of the obscure coding challenges I solved years ago. Draw. Take the 2D coordinates, and mark them.
When run, the code was to produce an image.
As soon as I finished the interpreter, I ran it. The image appeared on my screen, moving as the code was executed. The image from thousands of years ago, a breakthrough, a new frontier.
Unfortunately it made no sense.
I have shown it to my friends, and to archaeologists, and no one knew what it was. `` It's not surprising `` said Hael, one of the archeologists `` as we know very little about that era. There is n't much left — for example, the paper you decoded was preserved only by bonding with stone in a very unlikely way. Your work is amazing nevertheless. We can only assume that image meant something once, but that meaning is lost now.''
I knew the decoding was important by itself, but it was still a disappointment. That evening, I went to the balcony and looked at Earth, black and red in the sky. What secrets did it hold?
Behind me, on one of the screens, the tablet program was still running in a loop.
An image that would only make sense to someone thousands of years ago. An animal. An animated cat, moving its paw. Up then down.
Up then down.
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[ WP ] A man is trapped inside a lighthouse after a large flood with few supplies .
| As my eyes opened I winced, the sun was shining me with a bright yellow sheet for the first time in, well, since I got up here. As I rose from my makeshift cot, joints creaking, I wondered how long it had been. Glancing at my cracked watch I noticed it was already 1:00, past my usual waking time. The winds were absolutely howling last night, the screeching reminding me of the people I left. My eyes started watering as i looked back, seeing those I abandoned, who I could have helped. Trying to reassure myself I thought to myself that the few scraps I had could n't even support one other. On that note, I shuffled to the flimsy plastic bags with their bright green logo and their cheery slogan. Smirking at the memory of simpler times I looked at my breakfast, some oats and juice. As I poured the golden liquid into my thermos lid, I heard a roar. Nearly dropping my beverage in joy i went for my flare gun and switched the light on. `` Better make it count'' I thought, loading my last flare in. I quickly slammed into the rail, leaning as far as i could searching for the source of the noise. As i saw the small dingy approach i realized something horrible. They had less than i did. Any trip to land would take weeks, and i did n't have that. Soon i decided to fire, in hope that they would stop.
As the flare dissipated i saw them turn, leaving a large wake. They were coming. I quickly got as low as i could, anticipating the first human in so long. I motioned for the man driving, a skeletal looking one, to enter via a broken window. As he did we could only stare. I asked him `` Where did you come from?'' to which i was treated with silence. He then slowly made a quick gesture, assuring me that he was mute. In gratitude i lead him upstairs, planning to make it a breakfast for two. I showed him the juice, which he gave he a thumbs up to. I had to fill a bowl with it due to my lack of dining equipment. As i bent to get it he reached into a pocket and produced a knife faster than a well fed man could. I could only stare as he thrust it into my lower abdomen repeatedly, each time staining the blade a darker crimson. As i collapsed convulsing and losing blood at a rapid speed he simply lifted his bowl, took a long slurp, and brought his boot upon me, ending my pitiful life.
( This was my first attempt at one of these, be gentle )
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[ OT ] SatChat : Are you working on a book ? Why or why not ?
| At the moment, I'm just working on writing two separate projects ( I flip flop between the two because I am fickle minded ) and just seeing where they take me. I have n't been writing for myself for long ( Mostly when I do write it is/was for school ) so I have had these on the go for a long time and start-stop a lot, which also means they have n't progressed much. Even when I do write it's been like a sentence or two.
I just find it hard to sit and write and find motivation for it all, I'm so used to being told'WRITE X AMOUNT ABOUT X TOPIC' but when it's myself I'm way more relaxed but I think that may be my downfall? Who knows... I do n't.
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[ WP ] You have been cursed with one week left to live . The only way to remove the curse is by passing it on to someone else . However , the person you pass it on to must be aware of the curse and willingly accept it .
| I never really got on with my old man. He always seemed to regard me as a money sink, a thing that took his wife's attention away from him. I gave him what he wanted when I was sixteen; I left, with nothing but a laptop and some ID. I run my own little store now. I sell the hard-to-find parts that nobody else has. Some parts cost more to ship than they're worth, but people buy'em anyway. People will buy anything if they need it bad enough, at whatever price you want. `` Elastic demand'', I think it's called.
I took pains to stay away from my dad. The longer he stayed out of my life, the better things seemed to go. I do n't know if he brought trouble or trouble brought him, but they always came hand-in-hand. Yet, when he called me last night... something was different. He wanted to see me one last time.
`` Before what?''
He did n't answer.
`` Before what, Dad?''
``... You know damn well before what.''
And he hung up the phone.
I did n't sleep well that night. My dad was dying. I do n't know from what. I do n't know why. I do n't know how long he has left. Insomnia slid its tentacles into my head, made me see things in the darkness. I could've swore...
When I woke up, I saw a notification on my phone. A calendar warning for seven days hence. `` My Death'', it said. I could n't delete it. I could n't move it. It was marked as an all-day event. What, was I going to take twenty-four hours to die? I tried to shrug it off. Dismiss it as some strange prank. But not five minutes passed before I called my dad back and arranged a meeting.
Maybe it was n't him that was dying. Maybe it was me.
-- -- -
`` Yes. You've been cursed. I thought you knew.''
I stared at him with my mouth agape. Like curses were an everyday thing. Buy two gallons of milk, get a curse free. Cursemiles. Double your curses back when you buy groceries.
`` You ca n't give it away, son. Someone has to take it from you. Willingly. Knowingly.''
`` You... my dad cursed me?'' He never cared for me, but he never *tried* to hurt me ( he did anyway, but that's called `` neglect'' ).
`` I wanted to spend time with you, son. I'm dying too.'' He took a sip of his drink like he did n't just announce that he was going to die. `` Some sort of cancer. It's everywhere, biding its time.'' His face, which had always had a youthful vigor to it, aged sixty years in three seconds. `` There's no real treatment; chemo's about as likely to kill me as the cancer is.'' Another swig, and the years slid off his face again. `` But I'm a fighter. I'll keep working'til I keel over.''
``... You cursed me. You've killed your own son. You're taking me with you.'' My own drink sat on the table, getting warm. A fly buzzed in and wandered around the rim.
`` Well, that was n't the plan.'' He hung his head, and the years returned to his face. `` Truth is, I wan na keel over soon. I'm tired, son. So very tired. Your mom left the day after you did. I have n't heard from her since. One by one, my friends have left. Son, I've had enough. I was a shit father to you and I know I'm a shit father now. But if you'll give me today... just today... I'll take your curse and leave. Set things up. Rest easy knowing when my time will come. One last day with *someone*.''
I stood up, sending my chair skidding across the wooden of the patio. `` You're pathetic.'' I stomped off, heading in search of the nearest hospital. `` Enjoy your cancer.''
My dad broke down in tears as I stomped away.
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[ WP ] Write a resurrection
| There was nothing.
All was black, but there was no darkness - just as there was no light. There were no senses to feel, emotions to hold or thoughts to wander through.
He was weightless. Free.
For a very long time, there was just nothing. Until it all came back.
First, everything was dark and gentle. When it came, everything shook. With a painful, white flash of light, a weight came crashing down upon him. It rattled even his bones, while the light forced the darkness around him to break open.
With the light pushing away the darkness, he felt a terrible weight on his shoulders. His mind, clouded at first, began to ache as feelings and thoughts returned. As his senses returned more and more, the pain grew too strong for any human to bear - it spread throughout his whole body, filling even every single hair. There was air, again, and it was pushed out of his lungs.
He remembered others, himself and the world. And finally, he realized that his return to the world was inevitable. The world was painful, and he'd been happy to have left it. These thoughts alone made him choke.
Powerful feelings of hatred, sadness and disgust filled him. They made him weak. Then, there came glimmers of happiness and a spark of love that soon exploded. It made him strong.
Those negative and positive feelings clashed with all their weight, making him feel like his insides were twisted. Together, they neither made him weak nor strong - they just left him without any balance.
& nbsp;
He puked... and realized that he was already taken away from death and back to in life.
& nbsp;
His whole body shaking and aching without any strength, he could n't even try to stand up. Not yet, anyway. The sun was uncomfortably hot and contributed further to his sweating, while the ice cold wind felt like it tried to cut his sticky-sweaty skin. He was freezing. And he was too warm.
His head was dizzy and he felt sick. He was not ready to return. But if he did n't now, he'd never be - and there probably would n't be anything to return to, either.
& nbsp;
Biting down on his lower lip, he finally opened his eyes to a world both too bright and too dark.
& nbsp;
**... **
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[ WP ] - After a highly successful but , totally unbeknownst to you , Reddit campaign you wake up on November 9th , 2016 as our nation 's 45th President .
| ``... And there was the biggest surprise today from yesterday's election. Tom Sanders reporting.''
I woke with the news on the radio fading into the consciousness from the clock radio next to the bed. Last night was tiring. Work held me two hours past my regular hours, because my coworkers all up and left to vote. Me, I'm not a very political man. I tune out whenever I hear `` Democrats'' or `` Republicans'' in the conversation nearby. It's a small surprise I even listen to talk radio for my morning routine. Maybe I like knowing if I need to wear my jacket today, or if I need to take an umbrella with me to work.
`` I'm reporting from the election headquarters for the Narwhal Party, in Atlanta. As you can see, the biggest crowdfunding campaign on the history of the internet turned into a biggest political success, once again proving that the Internet is more than celebrity tweets and cat pictures.''
That's nice.
`` The presidential campaign is one for the records; it is the first presidential election with independent candidate as a victor, and it holds the record as the only race in which write-in candidate won the popular vote.
`` It began on a post a year ago by a user on a site called Reddit...''
Interesting. Sure. But I need to shower and get to work.
I shower and walk downstairs. The quiet neighborhood sounds a little busy outside, which is a little odd for 7 AM. I do n't think the school bus is making its rounds until an hour later. I pour some cereal into the bowl. It is stale. I chow it down begrudgingly.
Breakfast done, I put on my uniform. It's showing its age. The black polo is getting just a little lighter than I would like. The belt is just a little too stretched to be fashionable. The nametag -- why do I even have to wear a nametag? What am I, a fast food worker? But then, I forget that I left the radio on. I listen to it drone on as I put on my socks.
``... It's all very surreal to me. We started this off as a joke, and more people got onboard.''
`` The organizer, who goes by the Reddit username...''
That voice sounded familiar. Nah.
It'll probably be on front page later. I'll check on it when I get back home.
All ready for another mundane at work, I open the door. Instead of the calm morning air, I am greeted with the excitement all around. Camera flashes, police lights and barricades, and a stretch limo with a pair of small American flags at the front. I wave at the neighbors behind the barricades. They look bewildered.
One of the men who were standing in front of the front door look back at me. There are five of them -- all wearing nondescript but intimidating black suits. He must be at least 6 foot 5. He walks to me and extends his hand, waiting for a handshake.
`` Congratulations, Mr. President,'' the man says without a hint of irony.
What.
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[ WP ] A man who radiates bad luck meets a woman who radiates good luck
| James stood on the edge of the sidewalk, looking first to his left and then right. No cars were visible in either direction. He leaned in and strained his hearing for the sounds of any distant engines but only heard the pleasant chirping of small song birds perched on the sloped powerlines overhead. Reassured, James placed his left foot in front and began out on to the empty road.
Then he cursed himself.
“ Right first, always start right ”
Still, he reasoned, it was too late to turn back. Besides, he checked again in either direction and still no cars to be seen.
Right, Left, Right, Left, James was almost across the street when he felt a cool sensation crawl up his leg. The puddle he had stepped in was iridescent with the oil accumulated from the road, this was all he had time to notice before his leg plummeted in up to the knee. The puddle, it would seem, was in fact a sinkhole and James, preoccupied with the risk of being hit by a car, had completely failed to notice it. The last sound James heard as his head approached the paved ground was the distance groan of a sputtering engine, growing quickly louder.
After a time, James began to waken. Slowly opening his eyes, he first noticed a pale round object floating in his vision. The object began to resolve itself into a face. The face seemed to be unconnected to the normally requisite body, and yet James ~~~~found it absolutely lovely in spite of this corporeal defect.
“ It ’ s finally happened ” James said.
“ My bad luck has finally gone and got me killed. Least I ended up in heaven, figure there must be some kind of rules against bad luck up here. ”
Slowly sitting up, James was a little surprised to notice his leg was quite sore, not to mention still soaking wet, two things he figured should have been resolved during his trip to heaven. Then he noticed the car. An old pickup, rusting around the edges. The grating on the front was slightly crooked as though it had spent much time in contact with other cars. And the tires… both of the front tires were blown out, completely shredded leaving little more than bare metal.
Then there was the girl. It seemed the floating face was connected to a form after all. She was lying down on the hood of the car, chin resting on her hands staring at James.
“ Uh what ’ s going on? ” James asked the girl.
“ Thought you mighta been hurt so I stuck around and made sure you were ok ”
The voice sounded almost singsong to James, though he wasn ’ t sure that his ears were in full working order just yet. He looked around but saw no one else on the road, no sign that she had called an ambulance or anything.
“ er, uh, ok I guess I ’ m fine. Is that your car? ”
Again regarding the grill of the car James notice that it was so close to the puddle in which he had fallen that the front had actually gotten a little bit damp due to backsplash.
“ Sure is, guess it ’ s a good thing she got those blowouts when she did, other might ’ ave been you who was flat. ”
At this she gave a small giggle and rolled off the hood of the car to give James a hand up. As he stood James wondered how it was that she could be so nonchalant about almost having killed him. He had planned to tell her off but she seemed so happy that it contaminated his thoughts and he let it drop. With James leaning on his new companion/almost killer for support they made their way over to the far side of the road before collapsing on top of a small mound of dirt and grass in front of a small hedge.
James, exhausted, leaned back but found no branch to support his weight and went backwards into the scratchy hedge getting a face full of leaves and branches in the process. Exasperated, and now mildly embarrassed, he pulled himself out horizontally and sat back up, all the while spitting out leaves he had somehow managed to get in his mouth on the way down. The girl laughed and pulled a small purple wild flower from James ’ hair and placed it in her own.
“ The names Lilly by the way ” she held out her hand.
The irony of her smiling at the flower she had placed in her hair as he tried to remove the same from his own suddenly struck James. He found himself laughing.
“ James ” he said as he extended his own scratched up hand.
“ Well James, it seems you are having a bit of a rough day, how about I take you for a drink, I know a lovely place just around the corner ”
“ That sounds great ”
Then looking over at the rusty ford in the middle of the road “ But what about your car ”.
“ It ’ ll be fine, always is ”
When she smiled James somehow found that he actually believed this. He was never a man to leave anything to luck, since he had none, but for once it seemed like luck might be in abundance.
The two of them walked together down the sidewalk, a small gap between them. Finally, having recovered his bearings James began to feel oddly shy in front of his rescuer. As they walked he suddenly found that he could not think of anything to say to her, or rather he could thing of plenty but nothing interesting. Wrapped up in his thoughts he missed the small patch of concrete that had been dislodged from the sidewalk in front of him. His strides caused him to catch the toe of his shoe on it. One leg caught behind the other he began to fall, his previous thoughts replaced with a simple “ oh no, not again ”.
Then he was caught, an arm entwined in the crook of his elbow lending support. Lilly wasn ’ t even looking when he had fallen, but her arm had been where it need to be to catch him. Neither said anything as they continued to walk down the road, arm in arm.
******
way outside my usual genre, critique always welcome!
edit: just read pafguin's story, I swear I picked the names before I had. Must be something about luck that leads to Lilly.
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[ WP ] You have the power to heal mental illnesses . To do so , you enter the minds of others , where you and the illness fight in subconscious hand-to-hand combat . You 've seen all the ugly faces of the major illnesses , and beaten them all , but today you encounter one you 've never seen before .
| The arena was booming with familiar faces. `` Go home!'' Screamed depression. `` We will kill you!'' Chanted anxiety. All the usual stuff I've seen hundreds of times before. I had no idea who my opponent was this time though. The posters in the crowd were of something I've never even heard about. `` BRING IT ON! I've defeated all of you and I'll defeat you all again!'' I screamed, eliciting trash to be hurled at me. I love this part of my job. Finally the crowd went completely silent and all the lights shut off. From across the stadium two small circles began to glow a blood red color. `` Skip the theatrics and let's get on with it!'' Loud stomping began as static filled the air. This must be something I've never had to face before. No matter, they all have a weakness. The entity stepped into the ring and I could feel the electricity in the air. I pull my sword out and put on my helmet. A spotlight flashes down upon what to this day keeps me awake at night. I'll never forget the eyes. Glowing red circles with pupils that made my muscles tense with a glance. I felt my energy vanish as my knees buckled. This monstrosity had a head like a human, only it was impossibly pure black and had fangs like a saber tooth tiger, only twice as long. It's neck rippled with muscles and veins, connecting two arms the size of full grown men to the torso the size of a refrigerator, if the refrigerator had been juicing for years. Below it's waist were two tree trunk sized legs, and finally feet with claws that would put wolverine to shame. `` Who the hell are you?'' My voice cracked and trembled. `` I am nothing you have seen before.'' I heard the being say from within my mind, not actually opening its mouth. `` I am within all living beings. Including you.'' My brain began to feel as though it was stabbed from all angles. I fight the urge of blacking out as my soul feels as though it's literally being ripped from my body. `` What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening.'' I barely get out as I feel the horror approaching me faster than my eyes could track. Shit. I swing my sword blindly and weakly. The sword misses and is knocked from my hand. The beast kicks me and I am sent flying from the ring. After what seems like a lifetime I finally connect with the back wall of the stadium. Every rib was broken. I lay there puking blood. What was happening!? What do I do!? I knew this match was already over as my vision began to blur at the sight of the creature inside the ring. In my mind was the same voice of pure evil I've already heard once before. `` I am ruler of all evil. I will twist your mind beyond repair and leave you within the waste of this human host.'' Suddenly a voice of an angel rings out `` No! You pitiful demon, you are nothing compared to the power of love and justice!'' The most beautiful creature descended into the stadium. Hair as gold as sunlight, face gorgeous as a marble sculpture. It was the man of legend. Tim! The realization of my foe was enough to make me feel like an ant amongst gods. This demon was Sabastion, the creator of mental illness! Alive since the beginning of time, Tim and Sebastion battles for mankind's freedom of all mental pain. Tim had kept him in check but had gone missing for centuries. In my time of need Tim has arisen from the ashes to protect man once again. Pt 2 coming soon.
# timformayor
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[ EU ] You 're a soldier working for any faction in the Mass Effect Universe , in the war that goes on in the trilogy .
| It wasn ’ t supposed to be like this.
The *Glory* is an old, obsolescent Turian frigate. I honestly didn ’ t expect to be able to save her from the breakers around Palaven, but the Pilgrimage tells us that opportunity can arise from the most unexpected places.
Six months as a programmer and technician in the Hierarchy Yards. Six months of cajoling and convincing that stiff-necked Turian. Six months of networking with every other Quarian that so much as poked a suit port into orbit. It wasn ’ t easy, and there were more setbacks than I would have preferred.
We watched the news as Turians discussed the human spectre. Something about a ship going into an unknown relay. There was a Turian and a Quarian aboard. Some of us envied her – the technology aboard a top of the line Alliance frigate must have provided a worthy Gift.
And really, that ’ s what we were after. When we paid the scrappers fee, there were fifty of us in the Gallery. You could feel the caution, and yet, the excitement. The Recall had sounded, and we were going to return from our Pilgrimage as one, bringing a new ship back to the fleet. A worthy gift to the Quarian people as a whole for the noble goal of retaking the Homeworld.
No longer was I Zah ’ mektol nar Rayya. I was Zah ’ mektol vas Glory. I had a crew behind me, a ship under us and a bright future ahead.
And that ’ s where things went wrong.
The *Glory* was moving out of orbit when the invasion moved in. Huge ships that torched everything they touched. We saw a dreadnaught take a hit from some sort of energy weapon…and just disintegrate. We saw flights of fliers get picked off with contemptuous ease.
We all had friends back on Palaven. Colleagues who had helped us. Turians, Salarians and even a few Asari that had supported us, fed us when we hoarded every credit, harboured us when we were unable to pay for another night in the shelters, and who cared for us when our suits tore or wore out.
And in return, we left them behind. It was n't supposed to be like that. Why should leaving to rejoin the Migrant Fleet make me feel like such a coward?
We jumped out of the Apien Crest to the Serpent Nebula. There we saw the majesty of the Citadel once more. We saw the hundreds of ships flitting around the might of the *Destiny Ascension*. We could also see the freighters arriving. The chaos in the docks as refugees swarmed aboard the station.
The crew had elected me as captain, and that was my first real test of command. Land and help out, or continue our flight to the Migrant Fleet. I chose to continue. We jumped to the Eagle Nebula.
I don ’ t think Kehi ’ s faction appreciated the decision. He was insistent that we could have picked up more Quarians on the Citadel. I was sure that everyone had already heard the Recall. We couldn ’ t afford to scour a station as large as the Citadel on the off chance that there might have been one or two left behind. Besides, it was *the Citadel*. What could happen to such a massive edifice?
From the Eagle Nebula, we jumped to Omega in the Terminus Systems. It was the fastest route home. The attitude in the ship was hostile. Crew were at each others throats. It's was n't supposed to be like that. We should have been a united crew, returning in triumph, not a ship divided and ill-disciplined.
The Relay was being guarded, and two Human cruisers gave pursuit. They had the label of Cerberus, and we all knew about their attempt to attack the Migrant Fleet. We couldn ’ t afford to let them follow us, much less board and capture us, so we jumped again immediately to the Pylos Nebula.
The Cerberus cruisers followed us and opened fire. The *Glory* is only a small frigate. We took horrendous damage. Weeks of backbreaking labor gone. Of my fifty crew, fifteen died and eight more were out with suit punctures.
I panicked and ordered a jump to the Phoenix Massing.
That ’ s why I don ’ t deserve command. I knew these ‘ Reaper ’ invaders were in the Massing. I had the *bosh ’ tet* map open in front of me, telling me that. And I jumped anyway.
We lost the Cerberus cruisers, but now there ’ s a Reaper on my tail. As that human saying puts it, I jumped out of the pan and landed up the river with no paddle.
And now I ’ m coming up on the mass relay. The software is asking where I want to go. There are two unlocked destinations.
I can jump to the Far Rim, and proceed to the rendezvous in the Perseus Veil, to join the Migrant Fleet engaged in battle with our ancient mistake. The other open channel leads to the Hades Nexus, a place so far untouched by the war. The Turians have a base there. The Humans have a colony. Neither will be able to stand up to the pursuing abomination.
I have only have seconds left to choose. The Fleet, or millions of turians and humans. It wasn ’ t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to return in strength, not as a harbinger of death, leading unstoppable machines to the Migrant Fleet.
I choose.
*Keelah se ’ lai*. By the Homeworld I hope to see one day. The fleet must remain safe. Millions will die to secure that. I hope I will eventually be able to convince myself that it really was the right choice.
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[ WP ] You have a superpower that let 's you `` smell '' what a person is like . For example , good hearted people smell good like vanilla , and a bad person would smell something like a public bathroom . One day , you meet someone who does n't smell like anything .
| I can smell what someone is like from a mile away, before I even see their face I know who they are. I know what kind of soul a person has before they even look at me. I've never had to guess who someone was or associate with someone who harbors a darkened soul. You were different, I could n't see you coming. I may have passed by you a million times before I even knew you existed. The only way I acknowledge people is by there smell and when you emerged from a crowd and walked towards me I thought I was crazy. There was something fantastical about you and I had no idea what kind of soul your body was harboring. Everything about you was light. Everything about you was dark. You could be anything and the idea of that frightened me but it was the first time I had ever felt adrenaline surge through my body and from that moment I knew I was hooked. I had never been hooked on someone before.
`` Why do n't you have a light?'' You asked, your brow was furrowed and your eyes were intensely focused on mine.
`` I... wh.... what?'' I stuttered and I felt a heat spread across my cheeks. I took a deep breath, desperate to figure you out but there was nothing to smell.
`` Your light.. the color.. where is it?'' You leaned in, inspecting the space around me. I sat there without any idea of how to respond. I looked down and the ground was spinning. When I looked up again you were the only thing I could see, the rest of the world was blurred and there was a translucent pink hue surrounding your body. It sounds cliche and I hate to even say this but you looked like some sort of ethereal being. And yet, there was some sort of darkness lingering somewhere within you. You sat down at my table and gazed out into the blurry world, obviously upset.
`` Everyone has a color, a light or darkness about them,'' she sighed, `` but there's nothing around you. You have no light, darkness, or color.'' You glanced back at me, scrunching your nose and took a deep breath, `` fuck... something smells great. Is that you?''
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[ WP ] You are sent back in time to an ancient civilization . Upon your arrival you are hailed as a god , and with you is an arsenal of modern technology and a loyal companion . What do you do ?
| ( First time WP, I read the FAQ and would like some criticism on this )
You know, being a king/god/deity really sucks sometimes
I never asked for this, but here I am, helping a women cure her own self inflicted injury, why I will never know. She bows down immediately, gets up and runs off, like she did n't just leave a gallon of her own blood right there. This seems familiar...
I am not a god, I am a intern who decided to mess with time. Back in my time I was always the `` loser'', always using hand me downs, never spending the credits for a pleasure booth, or even using the memory machines to cut away the bad things. To me, that was hell, there was a man who wrote about this.... the title escapes me, but it had to do something with temperature and a random number
How I came here I will never know, but why I came here is something no one would care ab-....
It happened again, someone stabbed themselves and tries to pass it off as an accident. The knife, hanging at an awkward angle on his leg, moving as he limps towards me, leaving a trail of blood.
Of course I use my Cell-Accelerator ( stupid name, but its my invention ) which heals it in seconds and he does the same as the women before, even down the same street, have I moved from this spot at all?
A flash of light, and suddenly I'm back
I never asked for this, but here I am, helping a women cure her own self inflicted injury, why I will never know. She bows down immediately, gets up and runs off, like she did n't just leave a gallon of her own blood right there. This seems familiar...
*A figure watches the screen as the kid repeats the same couple actions over and over again. Heal a women, think about how much it sucks and heal a man and repeat all over again. He smirks as he remembers a quote from a bygone age, `` Hell to me is not suffering and anguish, it is being stuck in the same place over and over again doing the same thing and not being able to do anything about it'' *
*He laughs quietly to himself, a place for criminals to repent all their actions, over and over and over again*
( Inspired by Stephen King )
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A story that both begins and ends with the same character saying “ I ’ ll never forget the way you ’ ve made me feel. ” [ WP ]
| “ I ’ ll never forget the way you ’ ve made me feel. ”
Her lips stretch across bared teeth, hands choking the man ’ s throat, and she laughs.
*It was mid-July. The wind rushed through the city outside, its tormented screams burying into the ears of the residents. Flora had settled in, an hour earlier, on a road-side bench between a garbage can and a dying oak and accompanied by a group of gurgling pidgeons. This was not a good idea. It is difficult to read a book when the wind is blowing the pages ( and your hair and your purse and your sunglasses ) every which way. It is equally as difficult to get off your ass once you are sat down and relaxed on a sunny day. Even if the pungent smell of day old Chipotle has killed your nose. Thus, Flora was stuck. *
“ I have felt everything for you. I ’ ve been happy; I ’ ve been sad; I ’ ve been thankful; I ’ ve been angry. ”
The man doesn ’ t look very alive anymore, but that ’ s okay. She lets go of him and he crumples, but that ’ s okay too.
*In any case, Flora was meant to meet up with Charles here. He hadn ’ t showed up. She wondered if it was sad that she wasn ’ t even angry anymore. Charles was always late, or very late, or extremely late… or absent. It was the norm and not even disappointing anymore. It ’ s quite impossible to disappoint when there are no expectations in the first place. Closing the Sonnets to Orpheus, Flora drooped down in her seat. The things we do for love. She got up reluctantly and walked. *
“ I thought I loved you. I thought I hated you. But, actually? I feel nothing. ”
She kicks him gently, “ Hello? ”
No response.
Another kick. Harder. “ It ’ d be nice to get an apology. ”
Not a kick. A stomp. “ Fuck you. ”
*Flora sighed. Lost, empty, apathetic. Tired. She didn ’ t want to care anymore. *
* “ I ’ m done, but I ’ ll never forget the way you ’ ve made me feel. ” *
-- -- -- -- -- -- --
This did n't come out exactly the way I wanted it to, but it was a fun challenge trying to get from one point to another.
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[ WP ] You have a `` save slot '' in your life . But only one .
| The machines beeped in the background, his last beep was coming near. He lay on clean white sheets contemplating his life.
In ran a cadre of children, one of them carrying a frog that the older one was telling them they definitely should n't have in a hospital and can I hold it. He hugged them and told them each how much they meant to him.
Then came his eldest daughter. There was grey in her hair now, and her smile had wrinkled, but he still remembered her as a little girl, all those years ago.
`` Hello father''
`` Hello Daughter'' he smiled. A formal greeting. She had started to greet him like this when she was seven, and had been learning about ettiquette in school. She had thought it funny, and he had gone with it. As always.
`` How are you feeling today?''
The little grandchild chimed in `` Do you want to see my frog?''.
`` I think he will be fine without seeing your frog thank you sweetheart. Why do n't you and your sisters take it outside to the pond where you found it''.
The children made there way out, herded by the eldest who was just old enough to read the situation.
She sat down. He flashed her a smile and started to speak before breaking into a coughing fit. She handed him a glass of water from the side board and he drank before sitting back.
They sat in silence, accompanied only by the beeping of the machines. His heart ticked on its endless toil.
She looked unfortable, and wiped away a tear from her eye.
`` Dad, I know this is n't something people discuss, not even between family, but I wanted to ask about....well.. your save.''
She let the question hang in the air for a minute. He looked over at her and gave her a look to continue.
``... I know mum used hers when she was in her twenties. And she used it to go back and avoid marrying some other man who she said abused her. I used mine when I first fell pregnant, and stopped my miscarriage from happening.'' She shuddered at the thought. `` I just, always wanted to know. When did you use yours?''
He looked across at her and sighed. `` I have n't''
`` When I was in my twenties, I was worried I would waste it. You can only go back to it once, so I wanted to be careful. And then I met your mother, and we married. In my thirties I had you, and in my forties and fifties I somehow got your brothers, your sister and you to grow up into semi-responsible adults. In my sixties and early seventies I travelled the world with your mother until she...'' his voice croaked as he spoke ``... passed. And then I was 89. And I had great grandchildren. And cancer.''
She interrupted `` I was wondering... if... maybe you could go back, and find the cancer earlier?'' Tears were pouring from her eyes. `` I do n't want to lose you daddy''.
He smiled. She had always been his little girl, his eldest. She might be almost sixty now, but a parents love never changes.
`` The problem my love is that of planning. You see, in all that living, I completely forgot to make a save.''
She burst into tears and leaned over the bed onto his legs, sobbing into his lap.
`` Sweetheart, even if I had made a save all those years ago, I still would n't go back.''
`` But why not?'' she said sniffing. Her mascara was running down her face, and it reminded him of when she was eleven, and had first clumsily put on her mothers make-up.
He smiled, and stroked her hair.
`` Because darling, I would n't for all the universe want to change one thing''.
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[ WP ] Caffeine is declared an illegal drug .
| Funny, humanity is predictable.
We repeat history over and over and it never changes. I was good at history in high school. Thankfully it finally paid off. With the caffeine ban soda companies just poured more sugar into their drinks claiming they could make up the difference.
Red bull and Monster were sports apparel brands now, who would have guessed that. Turns out the sponsorships for the X-Games means they were still recognizable among that community and they just adjusted.
I digress, where was I? Oh yeah, HISTORY! So I kinda saw the shift, I put all my money into the stock market. Every last penny. It paid off and now I'm rich. I put it all into colorado businesses and weed related companies. Humanity needs a drug, alcohol usage increased but pot had to become legal.
April 20th swung by and pot had become legal on a federal level. Just a few months after the ban and I'm rich. I watched as I and a few others became one of the wealthiest people on the planet. Everyone watched as Colorado grew into a metropolis. I mean why would n't it? It was already set up for the inevitable. I'm gon na be honest, I do n't even miss caffeine! I will never have to wake up early enough for it to matter either way.
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[ EU ] You 're an ADS ( Atmospheric Diving Suit ) operator during World War Z . Describe a particularly hairy mission .
| 'Yesterday.' I told him.'Fucking. Yesterday.'
Some chap had come over to interview me and fair play to him. Rig 22/30c-13 rig `` The Dock'', Elgin Gas Field, North Sea, 240km from Aberdeen. Getting here was hard work to say the least, so I afforded him some of my time. My suit was in for repairs.
He seemed the affable sort and some outside company made for a novel experience. It gets tiresome talking to the same 15 people. I'll set aside the recollection of the pleasantries. Who gives a toss about smalltalk these days?
'Alright then.' began my interviewer,'Can you tell me what it is you do for the record?'
'Well, I do n't have an official title per se. People call me Trawler. I use a suit that stays at one bar of pressure to dive to the sea floor. There, I kill walkers. Float the buggers to the surface and then move on to where I'm needed. All in all, I look after every platform on the North Sea.'
'Well, it's certainly new to me. Let's go into some more detail. Tell me about your suit.' He asked, pen poised.
'Sure, the Atmospheric Diving Suit or ADS for short is capable of holding a diver at atmospheric pressure at the bottom of the ocean. This is n't your bogstandard scuba suit, I look more like an astronaut or a Scooby Doo villain. It consists of linked joints and a metal exoskeleton. It's been modified since to the point that I can stay down for twice as long as the original model. Zed's ca n't even touch me.'
'Good stuff. Now. I've seen your suit, it's massive. Movement ca n't be simple. How exactly do you deal with them? Do you use the Lobo or some kind of harpoon gun?' he inquired politely.
'I did manage to get hold of a Lobo, but they're just not compatible with the ADS. I actually use, and this is embarassing, fencing rapiers.' I replied, this is the first time I'd told someone, the look on his face should be cracking.
'Sorry? Fencing rapiers?' asked the interviewer, baffled. His face a satisfying sight,'Where did you get rapiers and why?'
'It's simple really. Weight and thrust. The rapiers are ridiculously light, moreso underwater. The ADS does n't permit the greatest degree of movement so I need something that is quick and effective. I hold them in place with my left hand and drive the rapier through the eye socket, ear, or the back of the head. It makes very little mess. As for their origin, I do believe they were taken from the Tower of London. Nice pieces of kit. The suit is the only operational one this side of Morocco, do n't know where that came from, but there're still some American markings on it. Best not to think too hard about who pikeyed who's gear.' I'd never spoken to someone about it. It's bloody lunacy now that I give it some thought.
'Well. Do n't knock it if it works, hey? Alright, next question. Why?'
'Why do I do what I do?' I asked and got a nod in response,'I was asked to. They needed someone brave enough to get into this suit with zero training or experience, not even a manual, and dive to the 93m sea bed and do some damage. Oil rigs, whilst massive, degrade more quickly than the life span of a quisling. They need constant repairs, especially at the foundation. We've got the expertise and gear for that, the rigs were untouched from breakout to today because the gents on the rigs were isolated. Some careful rationing and a couple of samaritans with boats and men who were earning danger pay became the safest in the world. I guard that expertise, by myself. I walk up and down the seabed for hours stabbing ex-people in the face. As it turns out, I'm good at it.' Jesus Christ, what I do is batshit bonkers.
'Alright. One last question. Can you describe for me the most dangerous mission you've ever had? What happened? Why did it happen? When did it happen?' Now the smiling face had stopped, it was pure concentration. Whatever I said he was going to remember it until the day he died.
'That's easy. Hell, that's the reason you're here.' I responded.
'Sure, I heard the broadcast and had to come and get this written. You've got a reputation, Trawler. So, please, go on.'
'Yesterday.' I told him.'Fucking. Yesterday.'
'Alright. Where were you?'
'I was at one of the rigs in the nearby Franklin field, 22/5b-8 I think. Guarding a team of guys doing an inspection of the foundation and the bore hole or whatever they call it. It's seabed, the very bottom so the danger risk is high and I was on full alert. However, the North Sea is n't the Caribbean and visibility down here sucks balls. Year in. Year out. It was just one of those days, the Zeds for some reason just stop fucking walking when they find the uprights. They huddle around it like they're waiting for the bus. Like they know there's people at the top. Bellends. Anyway. We've checked the bore hole and moved onto one of the supports. We'd been in the water for no longer than 50 minutes and I'd already put down 16 of the fuckers. No problem. I've got my usual stuff so I'm tagging and floating them up so they can be disposed of and I get a crackle on my radio. Now, underwater is tricky. Different rigs have different gear and 22/5b-8 has regular scuba gear, regulators and masks. No overhead full-face. No communication between me and the divers. So, they like to use two marker buoys for their positions. An orange standard one and a green one. When there's Zed's unpleasantly close they pull up and down on the green one and a radio operator gives me a shout to pull my finger out my arse. So I get some Geordie yelling down the microphone, `` I'm getting greens from all four of the divers. What the fuck is going on?'' I have n't got the slightest, visibility is down to about 3 metres and I've lost my divers because I've been tagging. I power towards the next upright and get through and there's 5 more of the tossers attacking my divers. Four are simple enough, the divers are mixing their buddy's air with some careful swimming and just floating gently above. It's a perfect distraction and I deal with them no problem. It is n't until then that I notice the fifth, obvious new guy. He's tried to take his on with his knife. Pillock.' I spit the word.
'That's bad?' asked the interviewer.
'I've got swords and an impenetrable suit, those knives are maybe 5 inches long and all they've got is a dry suit. He was being a silly prat with too much confidence.'
'I see. Please, go on.' The interviewer offering yet another smile.
'Well, I'll give him credit for being not bad with a knife. Maybe he was Scottish, I do n't know. Heh.' There was a faint whistling sound as the joke completely missed the American.'Anyway. It was like some kind of movie, I turned around to face him just as he lost a glove to the walker. It bit him before I could get there and sheer fear he rammed his knife through the zeds eyesocket. Could n't have done it better myself. Of course, he knows he's a dead man combine that with gross inexperience, you get a panic attack at 93 metres. His response is to swim up, fast. Any diver knows this is a bad idea, you get the bends. I tried to stop him but no good. He's swimming upwards, freaking out and in his infinite wisdom. Shedding his gear. Tank, regulator, everything. Guess who's under him? Fucking. Me. One of the divers signals to watch out above me and like a muppet I look up and two 12 litre dumpy tanks hit me square in the face and cracks my fucking fish tank. The glass bit that I can see out of. So, this is new to me. I'm experienced but I'm used to being invincible down there. So, it's my turn to freak out. The cracks are getting wider, so I take one look at one of the divers give him the thumbs up sign which is the sign to surface and fucking leave. Now that's a big suit and for 93 metres I'm watching this crack get worse and worse and worse. I surface slowly. It's never bothered me because I can get out without needing to decompress. This time takes the longest I've ever had in my life. Waiting, wondering if that glass is going to explode inwards into my face and sink me. As you can probably guess I made it out, but not before literally urinating in that suit. The other diver is dead. He came out of the water and killed himself. Slit his own throat with his knife. The suit is knackered. The entire faceplate needs changing and replacements are n't exactly simple. We've had to ask for one from Florida. You heard the broadcast request. It's the reason you're here, because you asked to be. We do n't have the best gear so we had to make a full spectrum broadcast and ask someone to pass it onto Goonhilly with a codeword. Until then, I'm sat here like a lemon and every team has their own divers protecting them for now. I'll be back though. Britannia rules the waves and all that.'
'Your story is one of a kind, Trawler.' said the interviewer, solemnly. He'd needed an extra moment to finish writing.'What you do is truly incredible, and to do it without any proper training is frankly remarkable.'
'I appreciate the sentiment, sir. Thank you. Did you have anything else left to ask?'
The interviewer, rising from his seat, paused.'Yes, there is one thing. Why do they call this rig `` The Dock''?'
'Ha. That's simple. I live and operate from here. The Trawler anchors at the Dock.' I gave the response with a smile, it's nice to have something like that on record.
'Absolutely brilliant. All the best to you, Trawler. Stay safe.' beamed the interviewer.
'Safe? Where's the fun in that?'
I stood, shook his hand and went for a cup of tea. There's a moment of introspection that occurs when you're waiting for the kettle to boil and something had been bothering me to point where I shouted it aloud. I'm pretty sure the interviewer heard it as he was starting to climb down the ladder to the boat.
'Whose fucking idea was it to get the swords?!'
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[ IP ] A Flash of Madness
| Beyond the reef of reality lies a place where only a scarce few visit. This place is a ocean of non-existence. No one really is there, nor here. To exist in this place is to never exist at all. However, some travel back to the crisp air of life. Today, a new visitor comes to this realm. A pink-haired girl. A young girl with distinguishing features. She has a few piercings, a couple of tattoos, and two different colored eyes. One eye is brown, but the other eye is bright yellow. Lovely as they are, the eyes of her was her ticket to this place. Anyone with one yellow bright eye are able to transcend their existence, and all it takes is to wish it. Her mother told her this a very long time ago, and she wants to be gone now. To be in nothing as she felt nothing. She closed her eyes and begged in her mind.
`` Take me away, take me far away,'' she said to herself.
Then she woke to find herself here. What she sees is a stream with pink blades of grass protruding from the ground. The river has no sound, and the fish are not passing in the water. Yet, the fish flow around her, as if she is underwater herself. One fish stands out. This fish has a brighter color. The pink-haired girl gazes as this fish floats around her. She touches the fish with the tip of her finger. At that moment, the fish scurries away. The girl almost tears up. She found her nirvana here. She would never leave.
As no time exists in this place, she did not track her time here. It felt like an eternity passed. She remained happy, with not a thought. Then the stream was not there. It disappeared. She looked around and she felt rain. Slowly, the rain turns heavier. The pink blades of grass turns black and rots away. Thunder crashes in the now grey sky. The girl panics. She lowers herself to her legs. Her hands are placed on her ears. She screams. She did not wondered why she is here. Instead, she wondered why is her new world dying.
The fish returns to her. Floating around her face, the fish touches her. At eye-level the pink-haired girl stares at it. The fish begins to speak.
`` Wake up or sleep forever.''
Those words cling to her mind. She closes her eyes and then she woke again. Her eye bright yellow eye brought her to a hospital. She remembers a needle, but she found herself surprised it was an IV needle. Her parents are there. Her mother looked at her, relieved she woke up.
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[ WP ] You are an astronaut living aboard the ISS . You are forced , one day , to look on in horror as , seemingly without warning , nuclear war engulfs the Earth .
| I watched helplessly as my world was engulfed in a cascade of radiation. Flurries of bombs decorated the sky as mushroom clouds appeared all over the Earth, leaving nothing but darkness and malevolence. The vibrant colors of my planet turned dull and lifeless. Everything I knew,
My family, my home, and my life, gone. All because of one goddamned man in a suit gave an order. The old world thrown into a radioactive wasteland.
Humanity, though flawed, did not deserve this fate. We were a species destined to do great things, we had already accomplished so much. None of that matters now, the slate was wiped clean. Earth is a strong planet. She will survive this. Though it will take years. She will rebuild. Humanity however, will not. We as a species ascended quickly. We descended even faster. Humanity could've have done the impossible, but yet, our lifespan was cut short. Only because we were so fixated on our petty squabbles for power. I am a witness to humanity's final hour. I will send this broadcast as far as I can. I just hope humanity will be remembered. Not as destructive beasts, but as fearless inventors. For as evil as humans could be. There were always good people to quell the evil.
My team and I are maybe the last of our race. Eventually, we will run out of supplies.
So we have a choice.
To die up here, ignorant to the devastation of our world.
Or we go down there, and see for ourselves just how powerful mankind had become.
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[ EU ] Welcome to Walt Disney 's Hunger Games , pitting all your favorite Disney characters under 18 years old against one another in a fight to the death . And may the odds be ever in your favor .
| Since the invention of the dimensional shunt, the hunger games had taken on a slightly different tone.
Sure, we all had a little less invested - nobody had someone to root for on the'home team' - but the organizers still had their circus, and after a century and a half, the revolt that started the whole thing was little more than a footnote in the history books. I had a theme each year, and the quality of the contestants went through the roof. No more scruffy, poorly armed local kids. Now we had the heavily armed Colonial Marines fighting the beautiful but deadly Mazone. Now we had musclebound barbarians fighting magical cultists in a rainbow of blood and light. Mercenaries fighting a single invisible monster. Now we had real spectacle.
This year, they'd decided to go back to the competition's roots, while keeping up the wow factor by cherry picking individual teen contestants with unusual skill-sets. They had witches and wizards, royals in fancy costumes, and knights in armor. They even had a kid who could fly through sheer force of will.
Anyway, they set them loose in a forest, as they do, and it all went pretty much according to plan, while we all watched at home on giant screens. Some of them were clearly chosen to fail entertainingly - I mean, a woman with bright yellow hair hundreds of feet long, fighting in a forest? A beautiful princess who could commune with little birds? Come on. Early favorites were a rough-and tumble girl with a shock of ginger hair, a weird feral child called Mowgli. There was also some mad girl from the far east who did n't talk - she just started stabbing right out the gate, but no-one thought she'd be able to keep that pace up. Mononoko? Menanoki? Some bibbidybobbity nonsense name, anyway..
But then she killed the little girl. Just ran past her, and slit her throat, almost as an afterthought.
She was called Pelekai and she was waaay too young for the competition. Could n't have been more than seven or eight. We did n't know why she was included - I'm not even sure she understood what was going on. Right up until she hit the ground, she still just looked lost and frightened. It's a real turnoff, that sort of stuff. Makes the whole thing just feel like they're being bullied or something. Anyway, that's beside the point.
She had this pet, see? She kept talking to it. Called it stitch. It would'talk' back in gibberish. So cute seeing them together. Soooo cute. It was a weird little thing though. Blue, with six legs, giant ears and antenna like a butterfly.
It kind of moped around her, slapped her head a bit. Then it let out a sort of keening wail. What happened next? It kinda got bigger. Not literally. I do n't think it really got bigger? It was just sort of more there, you know what I mean? I did n't really notice the teeth until the girl hit the ground.
It turns out the little beastie was incredibly quick. I was watching the live feed at the time and I had to catch the highlights show later to see some of what happened, where they could run the best bits in super slow motion. I'm not sure I can name a favorite. It's difficult to choose just one.
The first is the most memorable just because it was soooo surprising. That nasty little thing twisted the head off of princess monothingumyjig, spat in her eye, and then stuffed it down the stump! DOWN THE STUMP. And all in maybe a quarter of a second. All while making it's strange grumbling noises. Then there was the fish girl. It ripped off her tail and slapped her to death. That was just plain hilarious. Oh! That prince charming kid who got his sword rammed up his own ass while he was holding it! Priceless.
After a while it got to killing around to the organizers. Turns out it's bulletproof and hilariously strong. Chewed its way through the belly of some political type before they managed to zap it back to its home dimension. Ha! I hope they sent it back to its home, anyway. Anywhere else, they're screwed.
Anyway, best hunger games ever. Totally jumped the shark. There's no way they'll beat that next year.
|
[ WP ] `` It was n't so much that he fell to the dark side as he jumped in with both feet forward , laughing all the way down . ''
| With a rapid turn of the hips and a planting of the foot, the ball carrier was taken to the ground with a mighty thump by an incoming rampage of pads and shoulders.
`` DAMN IT! Short of the first!!!''
And with that outburst of anger, He turned off the Playstation ending his game of Madden. It was only a video game, one he loved at that, but it aroused anger in him like no other when things did n't go his way. He played games to get away. What he was getting away from he had n't an idea. He did n't live a particularly difficult life or an exceptionally eventful life. He was a perennial B student. He had a fast food job and made decent money for a 20 year old.
Running a hand through messy black hair, He took out his copy of Madden and put in a copy of Mass Effect 2. With this change, he took the role of a valiant commando, someone who feared nothing and exemplified leadership. For the next two hours, he stormed remote alien worlds moving steps closer to saving the galaxy. This session came to an end and off he was to work.
This cycle continued as he jumped from work to school to games. The months went by as he took the roles of soldiers, warriors, and sports stars. He was n't exactly a video game addict but lately the hours had been creeping up on him. He kept his grades up and kept his life in order so it was n't a problem, He thought.
In His games He found redemption and validation. The real world was boring and unrewarding. Each morning began the same way with small interludes in between of the occasional party or date but nothing exceptionally noteworthy. Upon return from a tea date with a perky blonde girl, the first thing he did was turn on the Playstation. An hour later, he had saved the world from the return of dragons and certain destruction. Now that was something. Not small talk in a smoky cafe. He had made a difference. Not that the virtual folk could appreciate it but he liked to thin this way. It helped with the immersion.
Four hours had passed as he explored uncharted deserts fighting off bandits when he felt the urge to call off work. He did and spent the rest of the day chasing Arabian treasure and gunning down baddies. This trend continued as he began to shirk his homework and polish up his Smash Brothers game. No one could bob and weave like he.
The semester ended and He decided that he would take a break from school. Being a full time student and employee was a lot of work. He would recover mentally and then go back in next semester. No biggie. While exploring a city in the sky, he missed work. The second time in a month. A week later he was fired. Not a big deal, it was just a fast food job. He was excited even. He had leisure time now, he could focus on his hobbies.
Lightning crackled and sparked as he flung spheres of pure electricity at swarming enemies. He had n't left his room the whole day. It was normal. It was called a speed Run actually. It was a popular thing to do even. As the sun set, he had become a martyr for good. He felt bittersweet about the ending of a great game but looked to the next challenge. As he started to pace an ancient tomb mowing down demons with a legendary blade, he did not feel that sense of escape and that emotion he once felt. He enjoyed it yes but it begun to feel like work and school used to feel. A cycle. Not a bad cycle, he was n't in any pain or anything and he was n't depressed either, He just hated the repetitive nature of it all.
And it was n't so much that he fell to the dark side as he jumped in with both feet forward, laughing all the way down. He had n't been depressed. he had n't been in any pain. He just hated cycles. The scene around him turned scarlet then grey then black as the chair beneath his feet became a blur and the rope caressed his neck firmly with a cold grip. He was n't sad. This was a different feeling. Like a new game almost.
|
[ WP ] `` You keep speaking about it as if it 's human ! ''
| `` You keep speaking about it as if it's human!''
John's hand was trembling, but he finally let the barrel fall. I let him go.
`` Yes. Look around. It's not that they caused this mayhem. Our... people had equal input.''
The metal face of the girl never shown any emotion, but the projected light in her eyes squinted a little. She was missing an arm and feet, half of her chest blown by some heavy-caliber weapon. Wall behind her was intact, so obviously she was still able to move.
`` And, in our situation, she may actually prove useful.''
Two of us were last survivors, now. The trip to the zone, started as military mission, but the team was n't from military background. They did the basic training to keep up, but it was NOT ENOUGH. At least the eggheads lived long enough to carry out the main task. Now, we had to go back.
`` Ok, little one, I am absolutely out of binary translator devices, so can you speak or articulate?''
Her eyes squinted more.
`` Look, we have been to the generator. We want to stop this madness, and we have actually means to do it. You can try to help us, and possibly get some of your finish restored behind the barrier, or lay here down. I know you have independent power source, because you'd be already dead. So?''
`` Ok, I can talk. What do you want?''
Her voice was surprisingly sweet. Like a little girl. The Machines were ignorant in the emotional area, and AI built ones preferred steady, metallic voice, that differentiated pitch only for humans to tell them apart. So she was human made. Possibly as a replacement of someones child? Independent power backed it up.
`` We want to get near the barrier, without falling to death. I'm sure you have scouted the area, and I'd love you to lead us there.''
She actually shrugged. Wow.
`` Fine''
Then, she rose. The rubble she was partially covered with, fell off of her. Dear God, she had full genitals modeled. She was a sex-bot! You sick fucks... If it was n't for the mutual bombings and actual survival of human race at stake, AI really should decide what robots are made. John's face shown similar disgust as mine, that I found surprising.
We passed the ruined commercial district, with tens of collapsed skyscrapers, and stumps of hundreds more. Fires has long went out, bet smell did n't. Steel and concrete was everywhere, in fine dust, mixed with soot, and I was sure, part of it came form burning *human flesh*. All with very fine particles that covered everything, including airways, damn. We roamed through the rubble, nearing the faint yellow glimmer of the barrier. Its flickering contained the AI control, and made the war possible in the first place. Humans can easily get through it, remotely controlled bots - not so much. We were getting close, but there was one obstacle on front of us - the drop. the city was build on raised bedrock, as we approached the chasm, it became evident, that climbing gear will be needed also on way down. And keen eyes that can see the sentinels.
`` So, girl, time to work for your prize. Can you guide us down?''
`` Yes, I can, and I will. Why, again, am I helping you?''
`` Because we have actual repair fab in our target outpost. You will be whole again... if you wish, that is.''
`` And what will I do, when I'm whole? Go back to that dead, pervert, as you say?''
`` You have independent AI branch in you. You're as self contained as a human. You can choose whatever you want then. No obligations, just like that.''
Her eyes squinted again. The level of her emotional responses was alarmingly high, but then, someone paid A LOT of money for her to come to existence. She was apparently judging us both, but still could n't do it properly, since John and I rarely talked. She shrugged her arms again, and went down the slope to the chasm.
She was good. She carefully scouted the area, while unnaturally strolling on her one shorten leg, but she adapted, and shown no signs of loosing balance. I started wonder, how big of a threat she could become if I had to take her down. Her keen senses and IR vision definitely helped us avoid all the guards. Sentinels could hover for a time, but it made rather loud noise, so flying drones were n't much a threat. Walking ones, until slipping on sand and rocks, were deadly silent. She still managed to fool them, nearly loosing us.
`` You trust it, boss?''
`` Her. Yes. Do n't ask, I have a hunch. She is definitely sick tired of what she was seeing.''
`` But IT was...''
`` Shhh... does n't matter. She has complete AI matrix built in. And she is definitely on the verge of solid PTSD. That we took her shook her enough to get moving. And she seems to be unaffected by General AI rampage, she may prove invaluable to rebuilding population of normal robots. Her mind may be precious.''
`` If you say... but look how it moves, like an assassin! That ass flows!''
`` For fucks sake, John, she was a friggin' sex doll! Of course she have fluid motion, it's what turns men on! Now shut up and let's go!''
We arrived at the barrier near the sunset. Long shadows were like set in stone, as everything was motionless. Behind the barrier jungle started, but now it was silent too. Every creature was waiting for the ball of fire to disappear.
We strolled to the barrier and stopped. John dropped his ear, and started mounting a dog-sized directly in the barrier.
`` What is THAT?''
`` That is, my sweet girl, a device that will allows us to push AI core through the barrier without frying it.''
`` Uh, okay.''
She moved closer, to look in curiosity.
`` Okay boss, it's ready, gim me the core.... UGH!''
|
[ WP ] A friend bought you a star from the International Star Registry for your birthday in 2014 . It is now 2044 and we 've discovered this 'star ' is actually a planet inhabited by life . You own it , and everything on it .
| My cellphone rang. I wiped my crumb-riddled hand on my jeans and swiped the green bar on my iphone. The screen switched to the typical black background -- the caller ID was unknown. It was odd. Everyone texted, almost exclusively, nowadays.
`` Josh speaking.'' I said, swallowing the food in my mouth. I hoped the person on the other end could n't hear the mush ride down my gullet.
`` Yes, is this Joshua Alec?''
`` Yep.'' I wiped my other hand on my jeans. The voice on the other end was male, and the tone was serious enough. Had his credit score dropped to unacceptable levels? Jeez, he should n't have let Sal borrow his credit card.
`` Hello, my name is George Mason, and this is courtesy call. Before this piece of info hits the headlines tomorrow, I just wanted to tell you that the planet you'd bought ten years ago WGEHE-8w8282 has been found with life.''
`` Shit,'' I almost choked. `` I own aliens?''
`` Not really. This is an event of severe international importance. We're commandeering it. Bye.''
|
[ WP ] Write your own characters ( or those from another universe ) into the roles and rules of an established universe
| Iella took a sip of her Corellian Whiskey as she sat in the corner booth behind the bar top. She had never really been a fan of Whyren's Reserve before she had left Corellia, not really being a fan of drinking all together, but since joining the smuggling profession over 4 years ago now she had learned that it was a lynch pin in getting people to respect you, not to mention a fair amount of deals happened in Cantina's like this.
Uncharted was not a normal Cantina though, it was owned by a wryly old Sullustan who had spent his own fair time in the smuggling profession. After almost 4 decades of smuggling he had settled down on Handooine and opened up this Cantina. Uncharted as a bit more upscale then most Cantina's smuggler's tended to hang out in in other ports but it had a reputation for being a straight shot for jobs. That old Sullustan had convinced more than one of his old contacts to come hang in his establishment, drawing in the crowds. Many had had to learn not to mess with the old short stuff though, as his no nonsense attitude had shifted to how people did business in his Cantina. You screwed over your smuggler or contact in a job, you'd be well never to come back to his Cantina again.
The Cantina was fairly empty at the moment though, with most having gone to bed long ago, or already up and getting ready to burn atmo as they left on their next run. Those that were still inside were either too drunk to leave, or much like Iella herself, waiting. Iella was waiting for this mysterious Devaron she had heard had jobs, ones that her crew might be interested in, and after a few brief messages over the holonet he had scheduled a meet with her here. Iella had even checked with Norn, but he was as lost as she was on the Horn head's origin. Glancing over at the bar, Iella saw the Sullustan catch her eye and give a slight nod. They had come to like each other over the last few years the Void Stalker had been based in Handooine, but this nod was more business, him showing he was prepared for any eventuality with the Devaron. Breaking contact, a cloaked figure caught Iella's attention as it stood in the entryway, scanning the room.
As Iella swished her whiskey in its tumbler as the cloaked figure focused in on her sitting in the rear. Picking his way through the tables on the floor and narrowly avoiding one drunk Bith throwing up, the cloaked figure slid into the other side of the booth. Now Iella could see the points of two horns barely altering the shape of the top of his cloak. Small horns, Iella thought to herself with an internal chuckle. Devarons were proud people, and horns meant a lot to them, this one's small horns probably made him the brunt of more than a few ribbings.
`` Captain Recorn, pleasure to meet you.'' The cloaked figure said as he shifted in his seat attempting to get comfortable. `` My name is Kelanso.''
`` Yes you as well, though I'll have to ask you to lower your hood, I prefer to be able to see someone when I talk business with them.'' Iella replied a bit coolly.
`` Ah, yes of course.'' Kelanso said as he reached up and pulled back his hood. He was n't a particularly good looking Devaron, but not an ugly one either, and Iella noted her observation about his horns had been right, short little stubby things stuck out of his head. He flashed her a pointed teeth smile before continuing. `` Now, I understand your ship is looking for a job?''
`` Yes we are, we're willing to ship almost anything within reason and we'll ship it to almost anywhere, all you would have to do is name the time and place and we'd be there.'' Iella said as she sipped at her whiskey again.
`` Yes, I heard as much from your reputation, the Void Stalker sounds like a good ship.'' Kelanso said with a thoughtful nod, `` It's a fairly small cargo, single crate of items. My partner and I ask that you do n't look into the crate and that you'd do your utmost to avoid any Imperial altercations.''
`` Doable, but it'd cost more to go off the beaten path, generally it takes up more fuel, precious commodity these days.''
`` Of course, we're willing to pay to make sure it is as safe as possible.'' The Devaron said with another nod. Enthusiastic one this Devaron.
`` Where's the cargo?''
`` Bay Two oh Five. You'll be able to pick it up in about five hours, it just needs a few more modification before it's ready for travel.''
`` Alright, all you have to do is send a signal and we'll be there to pick whatever it is up. After that we'll be out of atmo in less then ten minutes and in hyperspace within the hour.'' Iella said, somewhat boasting about how quick they could get off planet. Of course there were few who could do it faster, the fabled Han Solo would have boasted about being out and gone in less than a half hour, but his ship was, grudgingly Iella had to admit, much faster than the Stalker. `` What's the destination?''
`` Corellia.''
Iella swore to herself, as she maintain her cool externally, of course that was their luck. First job prospect in a month and they could n't do it. Downing the rest of her whiskey Iella slid out of the booth as she rolled her shoulders to adjust her jacket. `` Sorry friend, you'll have to find someone else.''
`` What! You said you could go anywhere anytime.'' The Devaron protested as he stood, towering over Iella's frame. `` We had a deal.''
`` No, I said almost anywhere, almost anytime, and we had yet to shake on the deal. My crew and I do n't fly to Corellia.'' Iella said with a chill to her voice. Internally, it hurt more than she portrayed. More than once she had dreamed about heading home, but that was n't possible, not with the renewed interest the Empire had taken in Corellia since the Death Star had been destroyed. `` Now kindly take your business elsewhere, talk to the Jumpstar's captain I'm sure he'd be willing.''
The Devaron frowned as he looked down at Iella, `` Fine. Good bye Captain Recorn.'' He said before turning on his heel and headed back out the door.
Iella let out a sigh as she headed to the counter top to drop off her tumbler.
`` Sithspat.'' She muttered as she pulled out her credcard.
`` Nah on the house Kid.'' Norn said waving his little hand, `` Trust me though, you've got a job on the horizon, I just feel it.'' The Sullustan said as he grabbed her glass and threw it into the sink of dirties.
`` Thanks Norn. Sure does n't feel like it sometimes.'' Iella said as she slid her credcard back into her jacket pocket. `` Catch you later, I've got to go tell the crew to stop getting ready.'' She shook her head and headed towards the door.
Being a Corellian, Iella was never fond of odds, but the longer their dry spell went on, the more she thought maybe the odds were against the Void Stalker and her crew.
|
[ WP ] After killing 3 home invaders you collapse to your kitchen floor , on the television you hear reports of a strong hallucinogenic being released by a terrorist group
| As I sat on the floor staring at my hands all I could think was that I'd need to call a plumber soon. It's funny how your mind can move to such oddly simple thoughts after such a traumatic experience. My hands were still stained red, and my biggest worry was that I could n't get the water hot enough to scrub them fully clean. I could have done it eventually of course, but the feeling of the lukewarm water flowering over my fingers was far too reminiscent of another more foul fluid that had recently graced my hands. I had to stop before I let out a sob. I could n't wake my boys and let them see the dark and thick pool that was still slowly growing on my newly stained carpet. The television threatened to do just that however; it was making such am ugly noise. I vaguely recognized it as an emergency broadcast tone as the announcer began to speak. Most of what he said was lost to my shock riddled mind but here or there I could make out a few words. I giggled to myself thinking `` I guess we have a real war on drugs now'' as he said something about terrorists using hallucinogens to cause Americans to fight one another. My giggle turned to a terrified squeak as I heard the door open. It was another intruder. I had killed his two partners before him and now he was going to kill me.
`` Mary... good god what have you done?''
I had to keep my boys safe from this man. My hands shook as I reached again for the kitchen knife.
`` He sounds so much like my husband,'' I thought as I made my way towards him.
|
[ WP ] You are a criminal mastermind who has taken it upon yourself to play games with the law enforcement trying to catch you . However , you 're growing increasingly impatient as your clues are widely misinterpreted and lead the investigators to unexpected people or places .
| Marcus paced back and forth in front of the TV suddenly very uncertain of himself. He started thinking back through his latest cipher; Had he placed all the clues right, for even an idiot to be able to understand? Would the cops get the message and better still would they say something on TV? He walked over each piece in his head, the placement, the meaning, angles, fingerprints, spatters, voids, everything his superb memory could envision and it was all perfect. Of course, he'd thought that the last four times he'd done this and look how that turned out.
There was the murder of that mouthy drug dealer on 2nd street. It was supposed to be his grand debut to the world. But forensics had screwed it up somehow and interpreted it all as a drug deal gone wrong. Then they misinterpreted the signs to point to some hat shop downtown that ended up being a front for some cartel. They seized tons of coke, heroin, meth, and pot not to mention an FBI top wanted member of the gang and some piles of cash that would help nicely with the policeman's ball, pension fund, body cams or whatever they'd waste it on.
Then there was number two. Oh he'd been so careful that time. He felt maybe he'd let his genius take over a little too much the first time, so he dumbed down the next set of clues. He was sure THIS would be his debut. He'd hung a hedge fund embezzler who people had been looking for for years. It was simple, straight forward, and would clearly show his ruthlessness and cunning. Instead somehow it led the police to claim it was a suicide and the clues left behind led them to all the missing money. The only problem was he was absolutely certain that the money had all been spent. In fact, the embezzler had secreted back into the country to start some new scheme because he was broke. It just did n't make any sense. Marcus was furious after that.
Still he waited the requisite number of days before choosing his next victim. He had to stick to the process. Instead of picking a random criminal this time he decided to go for something wicked, an innocent, a father, a pastor even. He picked a father of four, pastor of a local Baptist church, a man who ran a downtown soup kitchen and was beloved by his small community congregation. Marcus hung him from the ceiling of the church, swung him like a pendulum, and slit his throat as he passed by, spewing blood all over as he died. Just like before he placed his carefully crafted clues all around the murder scene. He was again certain this would be the time he was found out. He rushed home to ready himself and watched the TV with bated breath, only to be let down again. The clues had instead led to a secret warehouse where the pastor was in cahoots with the previously found out drug cartel in moving illegal immigrants through the city. Worse still a secret lair was found in the warehouse where he'd been keeping some of the immigrants he really liked. Five women were freed from torture and rape that night. After watching that news broadcast he had about killed himself trying to drink the pain away.
Still, it would n't do for a criminal mastermind to be found dead of alcohol poisoning. So he pulled himself together and came up with another plan. This time it, still short of putting up an arrow pointing to his own name written in his own blood on the crime-scene, this time it really would be fool-proof. Except it was n't. Random person, random method of killing, carefully placed clues, and the forensics experts and detectives solve yet another amazing crime and help everyone in the process. That fourth time he'd seriously thought about eating a bullet.
Instead he reminded himself that genius required persistence. Plus if this fifth time did n't work he had decided that to relieve his frustration he'd just kill the forensics team and the detectives on the case... slowly... over an open fire.
The moment of truth would hopefully come soon. The news was getting to the hook piece they'd teased through several previous breaks `` wealthy socialite found''. He almost squealed with the anticipation of what they would say. Surely there would n't be any ambiguity this time that it was his work. Not only that but he'd left clues about all four previous murders too. The newscaster came on air, Marcus held his breath as the newscaster reported... `` Wealthy socialite John Caster, heir to the Caster & Caster estate was found today after being held hostage in his basement for the past year...''
Marcus could n't hear the rest of the story through his own cursing `` NO! NO! NO! NO!''
``... his captor, who had been impersonating him, was found dead in his pool from an apparent drug overdose...''
He started throwing things around the room, overturning tables, looking for something satisfyingly heavy to throw through the TV. `` NO!'' `` NO!'' `` NO!'' `` NO!'' He shouted as the newscaster continued.
``... News has learned that clues were found at the scene that tie the impostor to a prominant local plastic surgeon who is now in custody. The surgeon had provided plastic surgery for four other impostors across the country. All four are now also in custody.''
`` Wow! That is some news Wayn...'' The co-anchor started to say before the small microwave crashed through the screen. All that was heard after was the sizzle and pop of broken circuitry.
He stomped around and looked for something else to throw, thinking maybe the best thing was to throw himself right out his own living room window and ten stories down to the street below. The longer it took to find something satisfying to throw the better that idea sounded.
A knock at the door distracted him just as the last second and focused all his rage toward the knock. He would kill whoever was beyond that door. Then there would be no doubt. People would see him for who he was. Everything he had done would be revealed by killing them right here at his doorstep. He picked up a knife from the table, jumped over the couch, grabbed the door, raised the knife high, swung the door open prepared to hopefully impale the unwelcome visitor and he was let down yet again! There was no one there. Just an empty hallway and a fruit basket.
`` A FRUIT BASKET!'' He thought to himself. He swung his leg back to kick it across the hall, but his curiosity got the better of him. He tossed the knife across the room into the wall and then scooped up the basket and closed the door behind him.
In the basket was a card. His brain rattled through all the different scenarios that would bring a fruit basket to his door. He had no friends, so it must have been a mistake, meant to be left for another neighbor. He opened the card anticipating some new frustration that proved God did exist and was punishing him for his sins.
The card read `` I'm sorry I did n't get this to you sooner. I hope you are n't too frustrated with me. The clues you gave were A M A Z I N G. My colleagues would have never understood the genius behind them even if I drew them pictures. Instead of having to go through the months that would have taken I decided to make some alterations. I really hope you are n't too mad about not getting your recognition. I promise I'll make it up to you someday. But until then I think we make a really good team. You really have an amazing talent for picking victims. I am sooooo looking forward to what you show me with number six and seven.'' And there was a big hand drawn happy face at the bottom and the signature `` MUCH Admiration, Wanda''.
Marcus dropped down into the couch, card still held open a hand at each bottom corner. He tilted his head back and let out a long sigh. Looking down at the card he smiled a little and said the words `` six and seven'' and `` Wanda''.
|
[ TT ] The other heroes forced him to become a villain .
| A scruff stocky man walks towards the table. He turns his broad shoulders sideways to squeeze past other patrons of the tavern. He strokes his beard with his right hand as he eyes his companions sitting around a large oaken table. He unsheaths his ax and slams it down into the table. The barkeep looks up sees the party making the mischief and returns back to serving the other patrons hoping the night will end peacefully.
`` I just got done talking to my contact in the city guard. It looks to be the same as the other victims.'' says the stocky bearded man eyeing each of his companions in turn as he speaks. `` This I say is no longer a coincidence someone is targeting us for our heroic actions against the crazed cult trying to revive the old god and I think we all know who it is.''
One of the companions clad in pristinely shined plate mail armor and a shield with a holy cross etched upon strung across his back bangs his gauntleted fists down upon the table. `` I will not hear this again I will not have his good name spoken ill. He died bravely fighting against the cult and that will be the end of it. Perhaps remenants of the cult still linger and wish revenge upon us for halting their vile ritual.''
Another companion wearing a purple hooded robe hiding just enough of his face as to not recognize him and wielding a gnarled oaken staff chimes in `` You are as foolish as you are pious Matthew perhaps members of the cult are still around but none left would be brave enough to stand against us. Besides the attacks were all done when they were at their weakest moment. This was intimate somebody that knows us far too well and wishes us to be exposed. James in the whore house enjoying pleasures of the flesh slain and Sandy lovely Sandy. She was killed while engaging in narcotics trades within this very city. Her ties to the Thieves Guild clearly exposed. No whomever is doing this wishes the legend of our heroic deeds to become undone it has to be him.''
`` Well Jamnil'' interrupted Matthew `` You said the deed was done how is it that he continues to haunt us?''
`` I know not!'' Shouted Jamnil. The other patrons in the tavern avert their gaze towards the party in the corner a silence fills the tavern for a moment. Then it returns to normal as time passes and Jamnil continues in a softer voice `` I took care of him! He did n't see it coming I sliced him across his chest and the blood splatted upon my face I can feel it even in this moment. His body fell lifeless and tumbled from the bridge of Drathol into the abyss below nobody could have survived that.
`` Did this victim have the note?'' interrupted the hooded companion
`` Yes, and it read as it did before, EVERYBODY WILL GET WHATS DUE.'' replied Jamnil
`` Those were the final words you spoke to him, were n't they Jamnil, when he was asking about his cut of the riches and honors to be bestowed to us'' replied the robed man.
`` It could n't of possibly been him Ged, Jamnil would n't lie about such an event. Besides the note is vague and any number of people out there could be trying to get their revenge on us for our part. Some people even blame the war on us.'' said Matthew.
Jamnil reaches into his leather jerkin pulls out a few objects that glitter in the light but are too difficult to make out from a distance. He slides them across the table top. Matthew and Ged look upon them first with disbelief then with horror.
Matthew picks it up and looks at it closely. `` Are these forgeries?''
`` No I've already had them checked out these are the juggling daggers used by that fool jester we kept along with us on our journeys.'' Its him and he does n't just want us gone he wants our history erased. I for one will be sleeping with my ax in hand waiting for when he comes. I suggest you two start sleeping with one eye open.'' said Jamnil scanning the far corners of the bar for any unknown assailants.
`` I intend to leave this city tonight then I must make haste. I believe not that he still lives but the powers of the undead are very real and there are many preperations that I must make to ward myself from such terrors.'' said Ged hastiliy as he begins gathering up himself and leaving the tavern.
A loud bang is heard from the other end of the tavern as the heavy oaken door is swung open from the outside streets with great force as to slam it against the wall. The three adventurers gather themselves for an attack as in walks the Jester in question smiling a quirky crooked smile revealing many broken and dirty teeth. `` EVERYBODY WILL GET WHATS DUE.'' Were the only words uttered from the Jester.
The whispers start in the crowd. `` Thats him'' can be heard `` It ca n't be he died fighting the doomsday cult'' `` Is n't he supposed to be a hero''. The crowd parts to the sides of the tavern clearing a straight path between the heroes and the Jester. Jamnil takes advantage grabs the handle of his axe sunk into the table pulls it up and charges. He lefts forth a mighty yell `` I killed you once I'll kill you again.'' The attack was haphazard and foolish however the many debris left over on the floor made for uneven footing for a charge and the Jester deftly tumbled out of the way of the attack as Jamnils ax came down with a great force cutting through air. Jamnil nearly losing his balance struggles to regain his footing and does say moments too late to block an incoming dagger thrown straight for Jamnils chest. It sticks clean upto the hilt of the blade and Jamnil shocked looks down to see his would.
The Jester begins to laugh uncontrollably and dance around. Much to the dismay of the two remaning heroes who stand in awe at the strongest of them fallen by a single blade. The jester finally remembering his other two snaps back into the present and approaches Matthew who sinks back into his chair.
`` It was Gens idea to cut you out. It was his idea since the beginning. We all agreed you'd be the easiest target you were always so unaware of everything going on around you! Please I do n't want to die!'' cried Matthew
The Jester smiles at Matthew and then smiles at Gen. `` EVERYBODY WILL GET WHATS DUE.'' repeats the Jester as he continues his approach towards the two remaining heroes.
With a flash of light from the Jesters right hand a series of daggers fly forth after Matthew. Matthew struggles to get his shield around from his back to protect himself from the projectiles. It looks like his life will end in moments as the daggers fly true towards their intended target. Matthew's eye widen in fear and shame but as the daggers are about to make make the killing blow they hit against an invisible shield and fall lifeless to the floor. Gen is grasping his staff with both hands chanting to himself casting a magical barrier around his ally.
`` EVERYBODY WILL GET WHATS DUE!'' repeats the Jester as he cackles maniacally. As he tumbles to the left and readies another volley of daggers. Matthew has his sword and shield ready and engages the Jester whos daggers thrown are easily deflected by the shield and magic. Matthew readies his sword and engages but the Jester changes tactics and stops throwing daggers but instead wields one in each hand and begins dancing around the tables and tumbling to dodge attacks. With a tumble he comes up dagger in each hand slicing with his left and then again with his right Matthew barely able to dodge or block the continued onslaught of the unhinged madman. Matthew used to being able to at least riposte parry or counter is unable to do anything but dodge or block as hes slowly being pushed back into the corner of the tavern.
Matthew realizing that being pushed back into the corner will mean his utter defeat begins looking for another way out a change in tactics anything. The continued attacks of the Jester are beyond the talents of the companion he once travelled with. The torment of the sin he has committed has troubled him for many sleepless nights seeing no way out of the current attack he decides to allow his death to pay as retribution for such sins and begins to lower his guard to allow the Jester's attacks to land a fatal blow.
As Matthew begins preparing himself the eternal void from behind an ax swings down hard upon the Jester. Blood splattering everywhere in the tavern. While they were engaged in battle Ged was busy rushing to Jamnil's aide healing his wounds to prevent him from passing into the void. With enough time passed Jamnil was able to pick up his ax and deliver a killing attack to the Jester. Jamnil leans down and says `` Do you think this proves anything? Life will continue as it always has for us without you around.''
The Jester continuing to smile even as death begins to embrace him even as blood covers his body and face says one final phrase `` everybody will get whats due'' as his final breaths are done his lips still smiling even in death lies peacefully on the ground of the tavern. Already the whispers of the patrons that have witnessed this have begun as they see for the first time what the heroes really are for themselves nothing but shams and charlatans the 3 remaining heroes hastily leave the tavern their reputations forever tarnished.
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[ WP ] On patrol in the English channel U.S.S Nimitz aircraft carrier is caught up in a storm . The clouds clear and they emerge in the midst of a 16th century naval battle .
| `` Sir! SIR!!''
The captain of the U.S.S. Nimitz, Captain Crest, wakes up frantically to a young seaman recruit shouting at him.
`` Sir, there's a storm approaching, it's pretty bad. ``, the recruit exclaims. `` Lieutenant Commander Russo has requested your presence in the ops room, sir.''
The young recruit is shaken up, and breathing heavily.
`` Go inform her that I'm on my way, recruit. ``, Captain Crest replies, as he throws his arms in his coat.
`` Aye aye, sir.'' The recruit shuffled out the bay door, closing it behind him.
As the Captain makes his way to the operations room, he can feel heavy turbulence swaying the ship.
`` What on earth is going on? ``, he mumbled, under his breath.
The captain swings the bridge door open and he finds the Lieutenant commander and the ship's lead navigation coordinator, Chief Petty Officer Biggs, eyeballing a map and conversing with raised tone. They stop talking and salute the captain as he walks in.
`` As you were'', said the captain. `` Lieutenant commander Russo, what's the sit rep?''
`` Sir, we seem to be encountering some strange electromagnetic interference from this storm ahead, we've lost all contact with central command. ``, Russo admitted.
Biggs chimed in, `` Our analog compasses are n't even working, sir. We have no way of knowing where we are heading.''
`` Where is Thompson?'' the Captain asked. `` He is the meteorologist here, why is he not present?''
`` We sent a recruit to fetch him a while ago, sir. He should have been here by now. ``, Russo answered.
Just as Russo finished her sentence, the door leading to the bridge swings open. Thompson stands soaking wet, and takes a step inside, drenched, with a poncho on. He salutes the captain.
`` Get the hell in here Thompson.'' Snaps the Captain.
Thompson puts his arm down and walks over to the table where the map lies, leaving a trail of wet footprints.
`` My apologies, sir, I had to get a view from outside. ``, Thompson proclaims.
`` Well? What do you think of all this? ``, the Captain questions.
`` I've never seen anything like it before, sir. They never prepared us for anything like this in training.''
`` What the hell does this mean? ``, Shouts the captain.
Thompson shrugs with an exhausted look on his face.
Biggs glances around at the officers, and finally to the captain. `` We are just going to have to wait it out, sir. We should anchor here until we know where exactly we are going, so we do n't deviate too far off course.''
`` I'd be surprised if the storm lasted longer than a day. ``, Thompson added.
The captain stares at the map, with a spaced out look on his face. He pauses for a moment, then lifts his head and postures up.
`` Alright, set anchor here, we're gon na ride this out. Get all the men inside and strap anything that can move down to the deck. You're dismissed.''
The officers hastily make their way to their respective positions and begin carrying out the Captain's orders. Captain Crest retreats to the bridge to get a look at what's going on. When he reaches the bridge, he looks out the window in amazement. He sees a blanket of thick, dark clouds. Thicker and darker than he'd ever seen in all his 24 years at sea. A opaque mist also surrounded the ship. The waves were slinging the ship to and fro, and the turbulence was dizzying. The captain wandered to his quarters, and began to sit patiently, with the many hundreds of lines of protocol rushing through his head. The Captain's eyelids begin to feel heavy.
`` Sir!, SIR!!''
The Captain is awoken by Lieutenant Commander Russo. The captain realized he must have dozed off in his chair. Stifled, he looks around and snaps into character.
`` There's something you're going to want to see, sir. ``, Russo asserted, as she beckoned Captain Crest to the bridge.
They make their way hastily to the bridge, where Russo vigorously swings open the door with the Captain on her heels. The Captains eyes widen as he sees all 10 of his chief officers motionless, gawking outside the window in awe, not even bothering to salute him as he walks in.
`` What on god's green earth...'' He says, with a shaken tone.
Outside, just on the horizon, wooden ships could be seen. Their many sails bright white, and their cannons booming.
`` Someone, anyone! What the hell is going on here!? ``, the captain shouted.
Thompson turned to the captain. `` Sir.... those are naval vessels... but..'' Thompson reaches out with a spyglass in his hand, presenting it to the Captain.
`` But what, Thompson? But what? ``, Captain Crest probes angrily.
`` They are n't from this century...'', Thompson finishes.
`` Impossible'', Captain Crest grunted as he snatched the spyglass from Thompson's hand and pulled it up to his eye.
The Captain freezes. His face turns pale white, and his heart sinks into his chest. He lets the spyglass slip from his fingers and fall to the ground with a stunned and frightened expression on his face.
`` God help us'', he mumbles, under his breath. `` God help us all.''
( That was part 1. I liked writing this and I might do a part 2. Let me know if you like it. Thanks for reading. )
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[ WP ] Your family has passed down a power for generations : the power to , when you see what/who kills you , the person/thing glows red . You never expected to see yours at a place like this .
| My wife was sleeping peacefully next to me. I smoothed a curl that clung to her neck and kissed her on the cheek. Lazily, she woke and smiled.
We moved for a while, kissing and generally enjoying ourselves. Eventually she sat up. She was beautiful like this. Hair wild, eyes bright. Naked in bed.
I scanned her form slowly, enjoying her curves and the look on her face as she watched me. Her slender neck, sloping shoulders, perfect breasts, glowing stomach.... Wait what?
My heart sank. I strained my eyes, trying to convince myself that what I saw was just a trick of the light.
There was no mistake.
My wife was pregnant, and the child inside her would one day be my undoing. My family gift, knowing what person or thing would kill us, has never been more of a curse.
`` Honey?'' My wife's concerned voice breaks through my thoughts. I force a smile on my face.
`` Yes dear?''
-- -- --
Will add more later
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[ WP ] You belong to the 1 % of humanity with superhuman abilities . But powers are never straightforward . For example , your best friend is pyrokinetic - but whenever she used her abilities , she 's left with burns that vary in severity . Your powers , however , are a whole new level of complicated .
| Cindy used her powers to light a branch on fire. She was always careless like that when I was around.
“ Heal it, ” she said holding her arm out to me. It was a small burn and for me it would be smaller, but I still hated doing it. “ Come on, I had to create some light for us. I ca n't see anything. What if I fell and really injured myself. Then you'd have to decide how far you're really willing to test your powers. ”
I sighed. She was right about needing a light. The forest was dark and we'd both almost tripped a couple of times. “ Fine, ” I said. I gently grabbed her outstretched arm. I rarely used my powers, so it always took me a moment of concentration to remember the way to channel the healing. In a moment her burn disappeared and a smaller mark appeared on my arm. It stung for a few minutes, but it dulled quickly. “ Where are you taking me anyway? ”
“ I found something, ” she said. “ I'm not sure what it is exactly, but I thought you should see it. I think it might help us find others like us. ”
“ Why, ” I started then stopped when Cindy turned around suddenly.
“ Because, I'm tired of not being able to talk to anyone about our powers. There must be societies or secret schools or something for people like us. ”
“ We're not the X-Men, Cindy. This is real life. Anyway, I like it being just you and me. ”
Cindy rolled her eyes and then turned back around. Then she screamed and disappeared into the ground.
“ Cindy, ” I yelled. I dropped to my knees and looked down into the hole that opened up in the ground. Cindy was laying at the bottom of it in an unnatural position. I look around, this had to be some kind of trap. I could hear Cindy whimper at the bottom of the hole. I tied a rope to a near by tree and began to lower myself down to her. I'd never healed anything major before. I was n't sure what I would do when I got to the bottom.
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Subsets and Splits