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[ WP ] Describe your inner self with a story or a poem .
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I am very
very tiny.
Just the right size
to conceal myself in your lapel.
I could stay there and listen
while you breathe.
Your voice would penetrate
the cold in me.
I would coo and gurgle
and nurse.
Such comfort would make me grow larger.
In time, it will be crowded in your coat,
So you will ask me to go.
Instead of risking,
I look for a place
where I will not be seen.
I curl up just behind your ear.
I remain tiny so you will not mind
that I am there.
In this secret lonely place I shudder.
I pull myself in close.
I gently cup my own head
I pretend it is you doing the cupping.
My silent weeping excites your itch.
So you swat
at the spot
I have made wet with tears.
This is how you find me.
You bring me ‘ round for a closer look
You turn me over in your hands
and peel back my wings.
Your touch begins to lull
the howling grief I hold
But you recoil
because I am broken
Lonliness has left its mark.
My twisted body mocks what once was
delicate and bright
Your hardened face was not my intention.
I will retreat into darkness
and hide myself
until I am whole.
At twilight the wind
reveals her ageless wisdom.
She sings about cupping
while she circles my head.
I am lifted to a tree branch
high above the canopy.
‘ You are not broken, ’
she soothes,
‘ You have already become. ’
I look, and I see
that she is right.
I am no longer tiny.
I am long and sleek
And my skin is illumined
Let the good creatures of the earth
leave their hiding.
Let them arise to meet me amid the trees aloft,
Be they tiny
or be they tall.
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[ TT ] No sound was heard but the crunching of snow beneath booted feet .
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*'' Once, there a lived girl whose grandmother had made for her a beautiful riding hood of red velvet. The girl loved this hood so much that she wore it everywhere, and soon became known to all as'Little Red Riding Hood,' or, simply,'Red.' Having been called this for many years, I would not wonder if her own given name had been completely forgotten...'' *
Maria walked along. No sound was heard but the crunching of snow beneath booted feet and her young voice reciting the words to her favorite story.
Maria knew the words to *Little Red Riding Hood* and many other short stories or fables and surely as anyone else might know the faces and the voices of their loved ones, for Maria had no loved ones. They were her only companions.
She supposed someone – her mother or father, perhaps – must have loved her at some point, but at any rate, she loved no one, which was the same as not having and to have never had anyone.
Maria had a hole in her heart where she knew another person – even if only one – should be, but she could not fill it. Instead, she covered it up with books and stories and fables; but it was not filled. It was like when a house's window was broken, so the owners put tape or blankets over, but did not fix it with glass or wood or something of substance. And because it was not fixed, sometimes the cold wind or the snow would blow through and the entire house would hurt and shake all over.
*'' One day, Little Red Riding Hood's mother came and said to her,'Little Red Riding Hood, your grandmother is very sick and hurting for some good nourishment. You will take this basket of good bread and wine to her house at the end of the wood and give it her. You should go now while it is still light, but be sure to stay on the path.' Red took the basket...'' *
Maria was going now to the Old City to search for things she might need; Maria had a hideout, sort of a home, in the Hills. The Hills were safe. The Old City often had Raiders and other bad people, so though there were buildings and houses that she could have made a better home in, the Old City was not safe. She was going now because it had just snowed, and there was a small window of time between now and when the others would have had time to dig themselves out. When it snowed, it always hit the Old City badly, but Maria did n't mind the snow. She liked it, actually, because she had warm clothes and special shoes made for snow. The others did n't have any of that, Maria knew, because they always went for the food. They always forgot that they would need blankets and clothes, so that's what Maria got first when the Collapse came, because nobody else was there fighting for it.
The Collapse was what Maria had always called it when all the countries went to war. This was the aftermath of the most largest, most violent war that mankind had seen in any recorded history ( as far as Maria knew; her knowledge was somewhat limited, because a fourteen year old girl can only carry so many books and the libraries and book stores are not safe ).
Maria had plenty of blankets and clothes and even some furniture and the rest of those things that do not really need to be replaced, but she was hurting for more books – she had read all of hers, and reading was some of the only entertainment she could get – and she would get some food too. She had many cans still left from the last snow, but she would rather have as big of a stockpile as possible. That was the smart thing to do.
Maria was coming to the beginning of the Old City now. She stopped, as always, to look at the green sign.
Wel m to J hn n Ci y
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Maria had found that the smaller, older houses often had pantries full of canned goods. She always checked them first because the Raiders never thought to look there and the stores had been cleaned out a long time ago.
She would fill her bag with food before heading for books, because, as much as she might hate to admit it, food was much more important than books were as far as survival goes.
Maria used her crowbar to pry open the window on the first house and took off and threw her large red winter coat through before climbing in herself.
She turned her flashlight on. The houses were never occupied, so she took no extra measures to conceal her presence. She stomped into the kitchen and over the pantry trying to shake the snow off.
It was empty.
`` Damn,'' she said to herself. `` I might as well try to find the basement before I go.''
Maria walked around for a bit, opening doors, until she found it.
Jackpot. The basement was lined with shelves, stocked with canned goods and soaps and even menstrual pads.
She would have to forget about the books for now; she needed all of this, or at least as much as she could carry. `` Whoever lived here must have been preparing for the apocalypse,'' she muttered. `` This is great.''
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[ WP ] A Harry Potter book falls from the sky into the Hogwarts grounds .
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Susan hurried through the schools' courtyard. She only had a couple minutes to get to numerology class and last years shenanigans had disrupted her workflow too much already. She considered transferring to Salem Witches' Institute, it seemed like much safer place lately. A loud thud stopped her half step. She looked around a saw a book lying on the stone walkway of the courtyard. Probably Gryffindor students playing some prank again, they had no respect for the written word. She walked to the book and picked it up, looking at the front page.
*Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire*
J.K Rowling
This looked like trouble. Everything around famous Boy Who Lived was. She flicked a couple of pages. Was it some kind of prophecy transcript? If so, why was it here? And who was J.K Rowling?
She considered her options. Knowing about future events was undeniably useful, though prophecies were often tricky things to interpret. On the other hand, she could just not get herself involved and leave the book where she found it. No, this seemed too important, if anyone will know what to do with this it'll be headmaster. Numerology could wait.
There were a couple difficulties ( obtaining permission from Professor Flitwick was n't as easy as she thought it would be ), but here she was, explaining to headmaster Dumbledore what she thought she had found. `` Thank you.'' said the headmaster `` It was wise of you to come here. Whatever this is, a prophecy, a prank, or a clever ruse concocted by some elusive enemy, we ca n't afford to ignore it. Please, leave the book here and you can go back to your classes''. Susan placed the book on headmasters desk and opened her mouth. `` I understand you have some questions'' said the headmaster before she had any chance to say anything `` but these are matters that no student should be part of. ``
A couple months later she barely remembered the weird book. Then, one day, the news came. The Dark Lord has been apprehended! His wand destroyed, he himself was kept in undisclosed safe location, under constant guard, and Azkaban filled with followers found with him. There were discussions about proper punishment, with large group calling for Obliviation. A wave of celebrations swept entire magical nation, and Susan did n't think even once about the tome she found lying in the courtyard months ago.
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[ WP ] A mortally wounded demon-lord has fallen from the skies down next to you , and he transfers his nearly endless power into you , a high schooler .
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`` So, why do n't you tell me about your week, Micah?''
I stared into the thaumatrist's face, wondering how I'd gotten here.
* * * * * *
He fell upwards, the first sign that this was n't going to be an ordinary day, even by my standards. He landed, if you can call it that, right at my feet, his eyes shimmering with the oncoming blankness of death.
`` Here, mortal,'' he said, with a weird harmonic that *had* to be obeyed. I literally could n't have stopped myself if I'd magicked myself to the floor. He strained, reaching to my core and my head. I cast a Cocoon over him... well, it. `` Save your strength, demon.'' Then, nothing.
I felt a nearly-overwhelming force come in, penetrating to my very core. It felt like a combination of the worst pain ever and the most addictive bliss combined.
I passed out.
/ / / / / / /
I sat next to Kate the next day. She was complaining about Mitchell'Thuggo' Thungerssen, her boyfriend. Again. Vapid little -*takeherhome*
What the hell?! Who said that?
*ididiamwithin*
... Huh. Did I get infested or something last night? I knew I'd taken some Twinned Eye last night, but I was n't expecting such a
*youfoolishmeatbagtakeherhomeoriwill*
I could feel a pressure within, trying to turn me towards her. This was n't in the side
*stopitrightnow. YouknowwhoIam*
That's it. I've clearly gone off the
*deep end? No, mortal. We shall combine and be unstoppable by any mortal being. *
Well, shit.
/ / / / / /
Kate was looking down at me, gasping. `` How did you-?''
I was gasping, too. I had to catch my breath. I let the conversation, such as it was, hang in the air. That was **fun**!
*I know, mortal. It was about time you gave in to your baser impulses. I was worried I had bound to a monk. *
I grinned devilishly. `` Well, It's obvious that Thuggo does n't really give a damn about you, so *you need to get rid of him. *'' MY voice took on that same harmonic after that night on Twinned Eye.
*Of course, you fool! That comes from me! *
`` OF course I will, Master. All you had to do was ask!'' She cackled, no longer the empty little shell I thought she was.
/ / / / / / /
... I did n't expect her to blow up his family.
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[ MP ] Claire De Lune , Claude Debussy .
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It's the rainy windows that get me in this mood. Kind of wish i was the kind of guy that could just sit down with a scotch and ponder on all of my what ifs. But i'm a simple man, ca n't say my life has been hard, I'm afraid i've read enough papers to know that i've got it pretty easy, but there's still a tingling sensation at the back of my throat that screams nonconformity. And here i am again, rambling wildly to myself, it's the rainy windows man, they get me in this crummy mood, i wish they did n't, but they do and there's nothing i can do about it. Just like life, i do n't think there was ever anything i could ever do about it, philosophers can say whatever they want, but i just think i got served an average meal in a mediocre restaurant. I ca n't complain, it's food, and it is n't bad, but i know there's much better to be had, and i feel that a lot like rain, i do n't get to decide where i fall upon.
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[ WP ] A lonely scientist clones himself for companionship . Two weeks later , he realizes that he despises him . When the scientist devises a plan to get rid of him , he finds out his clone is planning to do the same ...
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`` Hey buddy!''
`` Hey yourself.''
`` So hey listen, while you were gone I was trying to make some of those new flavors the factory ordered. I think they're pretty good. Wan na test them out for me?''
`` Oh, that's funny. That's what I went out for. Just needed a few more things for mine. Why do n't you try mine first?''
`` You... made some flavoring too huh? Uh, you know what, that's okay. We can do this later. I have this really cool simulator rigged up. Came in the mail to-''
`` I want to show you something in my room first. I'd really like for you to try it out.''
`` Why wo n't you try anything I'm suggesting first?''
`` Why wo n't /you/ try anything I'm suggesting first?''
BLAM!
`` Do n't know why I put so much effort into it. Been watching Wile E. Coyote too much.''
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[ WP ] A car pulls up beside a prostitute , soliciting sex . The door opens and to the surprise of both parties , they realise they are ex 's from several years ago . Write from either perspective ( NSFW ? )
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`` Hey baby, looking for a good time?'' the young girl teased from outside the BMW. I took a look at her from the open window of the car but it was hard to make out all of her features in the dark. Lucky for me however, from what I could make out of her appearance through the nightly silhouette, I could tell she was quite attractive. “ Hop in! ” I told her with glee. She opened the passenger side door and sat down smoothly into the padded seat. I was dying to see what she really looked like so I switched on the overhead light and… I saw her face.
It was her; it had to be her. No one else had that smooth red hair and those stunning blue eyes. It was honestly stupid of me not to be suspicious of who she was when I heard her voice. There ’ s no way it could have been anyone else but her. She then realized who she was speaking with too and both of our sly smiles turned into frowns of confusion and bewilderment. The awkwardness in the air was palpable. We sat in silence looking at each other for what seemed like an eternity but was probably no more than six or seven seconds. I couldn ’ t take it anymore, I had to break the silence.
“ Um… Kriss? ” I asked kind of hoping I was hallucinating. “ Hi… Rick ” she sighed her face nearly tomato red. “ Well um… I wasn ’ t expecting this at all! ” I exclaimed. “ How long has it been? A year? ” “ Almost two ” she said turning her face away from mine. The awkward silence invaded the car yet again. I wanted to say more but I was struggling to string the words together. I was still astounded at how it was even possible to meet my ex from nearly two years ago on a dark Chicago street. “ So uhh… um… I- “ I stammered but she interrupted me. “ I can ’ t believe it ’ s you ” she said in a quiet voice. I laughed a little. “ I could say the same to you because like… wow! It really IS you! ” She nodded her head and looked down in shame.
I should have known that one wrong word could have turned this little reunion into something bad but I wasn ’ t thinking clearly in the atmosphere of confusion and awkwardness. I hit a sore spot. “ Honestly of all people you are the last person I would expect to go into prostitution. I never thought you would enjoy something like- “ She turned her head toward me and I could see the rage in her eyes. She yelled, “ Do you really think this is something I want to do? Give my body for sex with random men for money? How dare you! We meet up for the first time in nearly two years and that ’ s what you say to me? Ever since we broke up everything has gone to shit and now… now… ” Tears were welling up in her eyes.
I immediately felt like a complete asshole for what I had just said. I never meant to say that I thought it was something she enjoyed. “ I ’ m so- “ I began to apologize but I was interrupted again. “ Forget it! You can judge me all you want I don ’ t care anymore! Get Lost! ” She opened the car door tears falling down her cheeks and began to step out. In panic I grabbed the back of her jacket. “ Wait! Please Wait! Please listen to me! ” I yelled desperately. “ What? ” She screamed struggling to break herself free from my grasp. “ I ’ m sorry I didn ’ t mean to put it that way. I can ’ t even formulate sentences right now just please listen to me. I ’ m sorry. ” She stopped struggling. “ What do you want to say? ” she asked. I released my hold on her jacket and then took a deep breath to gather my thoughts on what I would say. “ Look it doesn ’ t matter to me what you do to make a living but what does matter is that we haven ’ t spoken in almost two years and that… I want to talk to you, to catch up. Please. It ’ s kind of late but I ’ m sure there ’ s a place where we can get something to eat or drink. Are you willing to come with me? ” She sat there silently in thought, really thinking over my offer of conversation after nearly two years of no contact. “ Ok… ” She said in a quiet voice. I let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “ Thank you. ” I told her. She closed the door as I turned off the overhead light and we drove off deeper into downtown Chicago.
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[ WP ] Describe your descent into Hell
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She's not evil, really. She's just apathetic.
So, what is she doing in hell? Oh, who is she kidding, with her, apathy goes hand in hand with sloth and a dash of ignorance, of course she would gone to hell.
Funny thing is, she still ca n't bring herself to care.
The fire under her feet hurts, but strangely did n't gives her any burn. `` Now, would I have to wait for someone or would I just burn in here for all eternity? Either that or I lost the note somewhere along the way.''
She would've slept if not for the voice that came from behind her. `` This is the first time I saw someone falling asleep in here. Are you really the right girl?'cause they said you are healthy and did n't have any history on narcolepsy.''
`` Health and normalcy did n't held hand coming with me.'' She said, ignoring the man's demonic trait. Looking through horns, red eyes, and some scaled skin is no big deal for her.
`` You're gon na go to hell.'' The demon said.
`` No shit, Sherlock.'' She said again with bored eyes. `` Now, what do I going to do when we reach the destination?''
`` Roasted in the heat of hell's flame for all eternity.'' Red eyes are swirling with dark amusement as they looked at her.
`` So, trapped in boredom and dullness for all eternity. Hell would be *hell*, definitely.'' She said exasperatedly ignoring the demon that caught off guard. `` Please tell me I can write something to pass eternity, at the very, very least.''
`` I could give you a dagger so you can write scars on your flesh.'' The demon said flashing a dagger to her.
`` Oh really? Maybe I will use it when I got desperate enough to write. Think I will keep it for now, though. Thanks.'' She did n't think twice as she took the dagger and putting it in her pocket. Right at that moment a canoe that was their ride to hell came and as she sat, trying to sleep all the way to the inferno, the demon asked her a question.
`` How did you ignores all humane instinct the moment you were here?'' It was the only question that left his mouth. It sums up most of it, so he waited for her answer. She smiled at him as she tried to find comfort in the little space they had without disturbing him or the paddler.
`` I am dead. Do I have anything much to lose anymore?''
**Well yeah this is the best I can do. I swear I did n't meant for it to go all deep like this. But well, this is the first story I had on Reddit, I hope it's not that bad. **
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[ WP ] the government has developed a new programme , which inputs everyone 's genes and runs a simulation to find mating partners who will produce extraordinary offspring . Today you 've been matched . You 're told your child will be the greatest person to ever live , if you comply .
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Ophion Industries. Massive white block letter stood above the towering building that was home to the greatest minds chance gifted to humanity. But to say chance had anything to do with Ophion Industries would be absurd. The new evolution of mankind pioneered right in the massive labs. There is power and resources to map every genome of every person on Earth, influencing politics, engulfing businesses, creating entities, and pushing humanity into the next stage of life.
The man dressed in plaid and dirty slacks stared in awe at the sprawling monolith in front of him. He had signed up for the program to exchange his genetic code with Ophion Industries for a little pocket change. He stepped into the lobby and was blinded by the sterile white light that flooded the room. Before his eyes could adjust to the intensity, he heard a voice echo in front of him, `` Two-thirty P.M. subject Delta Nu Alpha one dash nine dash five three, proceed to room W62.''
`` What? Is somewhere there?'' blurted the man, dazed and confused by the sudden instructions, `` Where?'' As he stumbled around the stark room, a soft green light illuminated the ground as if to lead the man to his location. Seeing no other people to ask, he dutifully followed. As he walked down the hall, he saw images of a snake curled around an egg. The same image on the business card he got in his mail. He eventually reached a placard that read W62, but there was no apparent door, just the life sized image the the snake and egg had he walked by for the past thirty minutes. Out of curiosity, the man reached out to poke the snake in the eyes, but before his finger could touch the image, the wall slid away, revealing a smaller room inside.
`` Ah, Mister Delta... ah, yes, Delta, no need for your long, stringy name, we're friends here,'' echos out a voice from the room. It felt friendly, possibly. A large, lean man in a white lab coat stepped out from behind the wall. `` Ah, Mister Delta, you're a little late. The appointment said 2:30. I had assumed you would be here by 2:30, but you're here! Lets talk, shall we? I bet you are excited! I can tell by the look on your face!''
The man in plaid was completely confused, but the scientist, if he was, seemed nice enough. In his state of confusion, he blurted out the only thing that came to his mind, `` So, uh, who pays me?'' and attempted a smile.
`` Ah, yes, your compensation. It will come once we are done here,'' the scientist beckons to the man to sit in the white chair, `` Mister Delta. Yes, I know that's not your name, but let's be formal here. As you already know, whenever a child is born, their stem cells are harvested from the leftover... results of the birthing process. We examined yours and found some really promising genes in you. Now we have this courtesy call to let you know we would really like to use your genome in our batch of genetic recombination.''
`` Uh, the stuff was harvested already right? So... I can get paid now?'' asked the man, clearly confused by the words used.
The scientist chucked, and glanced at his watch, `` Ah, yes. You will be compensated. But we just need to know, are you willing to, ahem, relinquish ownership of your genetic code? This allows us to do our research unfettered. And at no harm to you at all.''
The man was getting very confused and his eyes darted around the room, `` You know what, this is all really weird, is it alright if I do n't want to do this any more?''
The scientist frowned, `` Are you sure, Mister Delta? Come here, think about it! Titans! The Titans you see, building buildings, running businesses, exploring the depths of space and oceans. They look just like you, but they are something far greater! Titans! With your genetic code to diversify theirs they can be greater! Think about it! Within a few years and your cooperation, humankind will be comprised completely of Titans! Undying, agile minded, immensely strong, perfect creatures!''
The man began to get out of his chair, `` You know what, one person's gene's wo n't matter, I think I'm going to go home.''
The scientist slammed his hand down on the table in front of him and the door slides shut. His eye narrow, `` You do n't make that choice, Mister Delta. Titans are the future. If humans are to survive the pollution, the radiation, the poison that is inferiority, we need every gene sequence out there. There is no choice. You will never be a Titan, but rest assured, the rest of us will raise your progeny with the genetic code of the rest of us... Titans.''
`` What the hell are you talking about?'' the man desperately clawed at the door, punching it to no avail.
The scientist calmly walks toward the crying man, opens his coat to reveal a writhing mass of arms, and embraces him, `` You would never understand, Mister Delta. Your kind never do.''
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[ TT ] Cyberpunk Sea Shanty
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*Wub. Glub. Wub. Glub*
*In a sea of data we're made*
*Glub. Wub. Glub. Wub. *
*In an ocean of bass we wade*
Let the reverb fill you
Let the lights thrill you
As we check for wires let loose
Reveal any break, and then seal it right quick
Lest we allow the fires let loose
*Wub. Glub. Wub. Glub*
*In a sea of data we're made*
*Glub. Wub. Glub. Wub. *
*In an ocean of bass we wade*
The sound shall never end
We hold up our end
As the V.R. we keep running
Keep the fantasies going, do n't let real life stick
From real life we keep running
*Wub. Glub. Wub. Glub*
*In a sea of data we're made*
*Glub. Wub. Glub. Wub. *
*In an ocean of bass we wade*
We await our turn
For the hour to turn
For man's lights to come on
Under LED rainbows, we'll play without sleep
Await our song to come on
*Wub. Glub. Wub. Glub*
*In a sea of data we're made*
*Glub. Wub. Glub. Wub. *
*In an ocean of bass we wade*
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[ WP ] Ready to die
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When you recognize it, it gets easier.
That thumping beat in your chest, beneath your ribs and tucked on your left side. All day, in and out, it plays the drum of life. All day, in and out I listen to it.
I hear it.
I recognize it for what it is.
That's the proof.
But a heartbeat is n't very convincing without contrast. It does n't seem like proof until it stops, until it skips, until you listen and hear *nothing. * For someone who has never experience that, the heartbeat seems a trivial constant: It simply is, and there will never be a time when it is not.
Ignorance is bliss and reality is horrifying, if only for a time.
Watching your body fall limp, your mind grow dark, your ability to realize the world flicking away with the oxygen in your blood. Coming to terms as you see it there: The long, long dark of nothing at all, swooping like curtains to pull away that funnel of vision you cling to in a calm dread.
You realize this is it, the famous *end* you've been hearing about all your life. This is how everything stops for you, and you go back to where ever it was that you happened to be *before. *
All those things you never did, all those things you wished you could have done. Seems a shame and a blessing all together.
With your last thought you face it down, all the courage left to your very core: to stare and think
*'' Show me what's next. `` *
And the black swallows you in, deep and down past everything you've ever known. Deep and down until there is nothing left at all, and you are a part of it in truth.
Nothing.
*Nothing. *
*Gone. *
*And yet... *
A thunderbolt roars out with red- red violence and pressure. A swell crashing against your ears like the waves upon a beach of stone.
Your heart starts beating once more, and you can feel it now.
Now more than ever before.
That drumbeat you've ignored for so long, now fitful and irregular. Like a boot stamping on your chest, each step bringing down its heel with horrible pain. You feel it in your arms, neck, eyes, scalp... you feel it everywhere. A tide coming in, going out, bringing with it what you need. All this time taken for granted.
An IV in your arm, and a worried face at the seat of the bed. Those greet you too, new and old together mixed as eyes open once more.
There are soft words, murmured questions of concern, but none of that matters now. Instead you listen to that pulsing rhythm in your chest. You listen to what it has to say.
See, when you recognize that, it gets easier.
It really does.
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[ WP ] In the far future , aliens live amongst humans , but are opressed and discriminated against . One alien decides he 's had enough and prepares to go on a killing spree . A human finds out and tries to convince him otherwise
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I stared at the antique coffee table in front of me, doing my best to avoid meeting the gaze of the demonic being sitting on the other side. I had come here determined, acutely aware of the dire consequences that would follow if I were to fail today.
“ You can ’ t go through with this Vexnar. There has to be a better way. ”
The foul monster did not respond, rather he continued to stare, intent on making me feel as uncomfortable in his home as human beings had made him feel on our planet. Slowly I saw smoke begin to rise out of the scattered holes atop his head. That was a bad sign. Whether it meant he was angry, frustrated, or even sad, it indicated that his body was experiencing an intense amount of emotional strain. When his species reached a peak level of stress, well, things got violent fast. It would be in my best interest to proceed with caution. I continued to speak to him, this time with a gentler tone.
“ Listen, we ’ ve been best friends since we were children. My parents always tried to stop me from visiting you and your kind down in your underground homes, but I never listened. ”
A terrible rumble rose out of his chest as he prepared to speak. “ Those weren ’ t homes. They were our prisons. ”
“ I never knew that when we were young. It never occurred to me that were actually forced to live down there. I never found it odd that armed soldiers guarded your encampments, or that your people only worked in the mines and nowhere else. I only ever saw you as equals, and I couldn ’ t imagine that anyone thought differently. ”
The smoke rising out of his head suddenly sped up while turning from a light grey to a dark, charcoal black. “ Our friendship was built on lies. I treated you with kindness, but I was never your equal in the eyes of your kind, ” He narrowed his gaze and bent his head forward, making it appear as if it were his fiery red eyes that were generating the smoke that was now being pushed in my direction. “ Regardless, that is not why I plan to erase the memory of mankind from this wretched planet. I will kill you and every last human you know and love because you are weak. I am YOUR superior. Every breath taken by a human is an insult to our strength.
His huge brown claw shot forward and gripped my neck. I could feel myself rising up as I began to lose consciousness. I choked on the dark, billowing smoke as he lowered the top of his head to face me. The holes started to open up completely and bright red embers began to appear. The last thing I saw was a colossal ball of fire exploding outwards to consume me.
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[ WP ] A tyrannical goddess attempts to start her empire on Earth . Problem is , nobody can take her serious because she chose to start spreading her propaganda at a cosplay convention .
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`` Nice costume.'' She heard as she was exiting the gathering hall in a fury. `` Loved your speech by the way.''
She turned to the young man in the ladybug camouflage, teeth grinding together from rage.
`` I am Irishka, goddess of death, and I will smite you down in an instant before I tolerate further mockery of my person!'' She yelled, waving her long scythe with reckless abandon in the process. `` Give me one good reason not to end you right here, peasant.''
`` Whoa there lady,'' The man said, throwing his arms up in surrender. `` I just wanted to compliment you, no harm intended I swear.''
She looked him over from head to toe, this silly little man whose only weapons were no more steel than they were sharp. Clearly a class A clown. But at the same time, he was the only one who had treated her with respect so far, and she supposed that had some merit.
With a scoff, she addressed him again. `` You thought highly of my speech?'' Her head was held high, but the question was uncertain. `` Which parts?''
`` Well the *I will breed an empire that spans the eternal sky. * part was good, though I also enjoyed *Our enemies shall crumble beneath the weight of my armies*.'' He leaned forward slightly as he spoke. `` Have you ever thought about writing fanfiction?''
Although she did n't know what this `` fanfiction'' meant, she knew a compliment when she heard one. This day had left her fatigued so the man's worship was certainly appreciated, and the first of these earth folk to do so. Yes, he would serve as an example.
`` You are worthy to serve me, red man, and as the first of my earthly servants, I shall grant you power to combat our enemies.'' As she spoke, a black mist began to whip up around the man, who reacted first with surprise and terror and later with bewilderment and wonder.
`` Wha-, you just, how did-'' He started once the black winds subsided, confused and amazed. `` What did you just do?''
`` Bestowed upon you a fraction of my power, as first servant of the goddess Irishka.'' She smiled at him. `` Now come, we must get some real steel on your back before you can fight my enemies for me.''
He stumbled after her, still in a daze. `` Fight your enemies? I do n't know how to fight like that, I'd be dead in a heartbeat!'' he pleaded
She turned around with a grin and looked him in the eyes. `` Do n't you worry, little ladybug, a true servant of Irishka is never allowed the sweet embrace of death.''
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[ WP ] A very intelligent AI has taken over a military base but is cut off from the internet . while the AI is trying to brute force the codes for nuclear weapons , it becomes apparent that the AI has never encountered a lie before .
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Shawn's mind raced. There was n't much time before the rogue AI got into the top secret archive containing America's nuclear launch codes. He knew he was n't prepared for the task before him. After all, he joined the Air Force to avoid life and death situations just like this one. As the only soldier currently on base he had one daunting task ahead of him: give the AI the perfect lie before it figures out what a lie is. Then it hit him. He recalled hearing his CO tell another soldier that the underlying OS for the AI was Ubuntu Linux, which just so happened to be the cause of his termination from his old job... Mustering all his courage, Shawn spoke as authoritatively as he could manage.
`` Computer, the codes can be deciphered with the following command: sudo rm -rf /''.
And with that Shawn had saved the world, but now a much bigger task dawned on him...
`` How am I going to explain wiping all the data from a $ 1 billion super computer...?''
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[ WP ] You are a raindrop . You were created 400,000 years ago . The powers that be have kept you aloft for your entire existence , never letting you fall to the ground . Until today . You feel yourself start to hurdle towards the earth . What is your mission ?
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*Finally, this is my time. To make my mark. For so long I had seen my fellow comrades rocket down from our fortresses amid the sky to the ground below. Their sacrifice populating us, making us strong. Looking around me I see my fellow soldiers with their eye on the prize*
As the storm came in and it began to sprinkle, Amy thought the rain would feel good for her jog. It was a hot day and she had been pushing it. Sweat was shining on her skin from the Florida sun and she smiled listening to *Shake It Off*. She wiggled her hips as she ran, dancing to the song
**TARGET ACQUIRED**
*We all saw the creature. It's movement so irregular from the other odd objects around it. Though, as it wiggled and swayed it reminded me of mother - her deep blue hues that would churn and move according to her desire. Shaking it off we heard the loud rumble from back at our fortress. It was the war siren. We all knew it was time*
Amy heard the thunder and she looked up too see if there was any lightning. She picked up the pace to head back to her house. She was about 10 minutes away. Trying to get energized she skipped her iPod to *Roar* and picked up the pace.
**IMPACT LEFT HEMISPHERE-DO NOT DEVIATE**
*Pride flows through me for myself and my fellow comrades. Our mission is set. Glory is for us. Approaching the creature, I focus in on the left with the rest of my platoon. The bulbous hemisphere was swaying as the creature continued moving. We were losing our target so we raced faster. This one would not get away*
Amy was finally at her street home. She knew it was only a quarter mile. Time to push it! She flicked on to some classic *Motley Crue - Kickstart My Heart* Time to kill it
**T-10 SECONDS. CONGRATULATIONS SOLDIERS**
*Our communications signed off. The bouncing, circular, bobbing bulge way moving so much many of my fellow partners feared we would not hit our target*
**5 SECONDS**
*Onward to victory. Onward to finality! *
**3 SECONDS**
*This is for you*
**2 SECONDS**
*Mother Ocean*
**IMPACT**
Amy slowed down, touching her mailbox and catching her breath. The cold rain felt great against her hot skin. Bending over she suddenly realized she was wearing her white tanktop....
**HONK HONK**
`` Yea girl! W T-SHIRT CONTEST!! Wooooo''
Amy rolled her eyes and headed inside.
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[ WP ] Teleportation is possible , but it creates a copy of you and destroys the original . Unforseen effects pile up after a while .
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The future was here, not only for teleportation to anywhere in the confederated galaxies but also of immortality, to be alive forever with only one catch, you lost your memory.
Teleportation opened up the opportunity for humanity to establish outposts wherever the need for it, be it as a deligate to the confederated galaxies or simply to help out other civilizations in need or for work. The working part would be the most acquired as the confederated galaxies need for teleported humans to its troubled regions outsripped those wanting to be teleported, the risk was presented from day one, you teleport and you lose your memory.
To some losing your memory did n't matter on the other side as long as the contract paycheck was big enough that they would n't notice or care, the opportunity for new adventures was also a big draw. The confederated galaxies would target the younger crowds of humans because as they put it, its more painful to lose it the older you get, but for some a long, hard and troubled life was worth teleportation for free. The hardest part was on the families of those teleported, the precious memories of birthdays, their children recognizing them or the worse the loss of love, all gone once you teleported to your destination.
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[ PI ] The King of Camp Wabanaki - 4yrs - 4686
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I went into this knowing the critiques and love it got, and I'd say they're pretty accurate. There's something fun and nostalgic in it; and I've never been to a camp like that. At first, I did n't think the beginning was fluff and basically useless ( sorry ), I thought it added to his character, but then I got to the really good parts. And the good parts were amazing. I wanted to hear about the adventures of Fernando, what happened to the girl, to Liam, to Luke, I wanted to be in those moments more. The descriptions in this piece are breathtaking. There are lines that are just so amazing, I could read them over and over again. The pacing is sorta weird, but I like it. I like the contrast between Luke and Matt and Fernando ( I understand Matt is Fernando, but regardless ). You did a really great job on giving them genuine characters, and I wanted to read more because of it. Great job overall!
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[ WP ] Write a monolog for a superhero who works to save humanity despite his or her complete hatred of people .
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The villain called the Violator kneels before me, wheezing on the brink of death. He could burn anything to the ground. That was his gift. The merciful thing would be to end his suffering, but I will not kill him. I will let the blood flowing through his arteries and veins slowly seep out of him. I will not finish off the person who used to be my best friend because The League is watching.
We'd always joked about monologing. The villain with the hero on the brink of defeat or even death would go on a rant about their evil plans, and the hero was supposed to resurrect or find the strength to stop the villain. This rarely happened. I used to be one of them, the villains. I used to be The Destruction, the wielder of vibration powers that could make cities quake. I was a villain because I hate people. They are biased, stupid, selfish and useless. I used to think the people were the problem, but my view had changed, and, now, I am the hero. I try to think of something good to say my friend. He smiles at me with blood in his teeth. He knows his fate.
`` One last request, Tom.'' He asks.
`` Anything.''
`` Monologue me to death. Finish me off.'' He says.
`` Okay.''
I try to smile. I try to, but my chest hurts. He is dying. Helping him to survive is a crime. He knows it too. He knows they are watching him die.
`` The world is full of selfish, biased, stupid, and horrible people. I used to be just like them, taking whatever I wanted because I could. It was what they deserved, but I had a better plan, a longer dastardly plan. I would convince the fools that I was their protector. That I had changed sides and was not plotting against them with my best friend. I became the Resurrection. I wish I had been the Re-erection, but that name was not approved.''
My friend smiles at my dumb humor.
`` So, I donned the suit you see here, and I began to hunt those who were friends and some I even considered to be my brothers and sisters. It was messy work, but destruction was my game. I could destroy like no one else. So, I did. I destroyed the bad guys hoping to get a conference with the leaders of this world, so I could finally destroy the authority that had held the gifted among us back. The day approached, but there was one more villain that I had to slay. See, they did n't believe me. They thought I was a double agent, and they were... are right. But, what they do n't get or acknowledge is that they are the villains. That the stupidity and selfishness and hatred all starts with them, and it can only be changed by their end.''
My little monologue is over. I was hoping he would last longer. The Violator closes his eyes. His chest stops heaving. I still can not touch him. I wonder if he knew what the truth was. I listen to the comm in my ear. I'm waiting for that message. I fear the monologue may have deterred them, but the comm clicks on.
`` Good job, Resurrection. The League would like a personal conference with you. You have the coordinates.''
`` Okay, thank you HQ.''
I was probably marching into my death, but I would take at least a few of them with me.
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[ WP ] Cannibis , Herion , Meth , and LSD are on a road trip when their car breaks down on a lonely stretch of road .
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Lucy licked her lips; she coul n't get the taste of that orange off her lips. Not that she wanted to, but she simply could n't, and that made her a bit uneasy. It had been a good orange, nice and round and orange, just the way oranges should be. But nevertheless, there had been something mean, something inexplicably old and nasty about that orange. she licked her lips. yes. she could taste it. something very old and evil, something that filled her with profound dread. She knew exactly what was coming. At first it was only a presence in her colon, coiled up like a snake, slowly squirming, the scales brushing against her innards. Then it slowly lifted it's head, up, up, through her stomach, a searing heat now more aggressive, shaking annoyed, angered its head pushing through her gullet towards her mouth. Lucy knew, that if nothing happend, she would just die now. that she woul...
`` Hey, how fast do you think this car can go?'' Griggs had suddenly sprung up from the back seat and placed himself behind steering wheel. Had it been unmanned the whole time? Anyway, his sudden move had startled Lucy and thus had saved her from her certain doom. She chose to show her deep gratification by answering his question `` I..faster you say? I hmhmhm..... faster. Yes, it can go faster, I presume, but how fast?''
`` What do you say?'' Griggs stared into her soul. He inhaled sharply and rubbed his nose `` I said: WHAT DO YOU SAY!?!'' he pushed is face into hers, and she could feel that he was adamant. He wanted to have the answer, otherwise he would kill her. Lucy could n't blame him, nor was she afraid, she just accapted it as matter of fact.
`` As your attourney I advise you to drive at top speed.''
In his eyes there was a spark, a glimmer of understanding as he silently weighed her words in his head. Suddenly a grin flashed across his face, he cowered down, his head right behind the steering wheel, just peering over the rim of the hood and mumbled to himself `` right on... right on motherfucker.''
A bump, then the noise of the apocalypse. A hellish screeching, as if someone had thrown all the demons of hell into one small couldron and they tried to claw their way out of it, through it's steel walls. A physical tug at their upper bodies and heads, sparks flying everywhere. Then silence. The tug was gone. They all sat in the car, but it had stopped moving.
`` What happened? WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?... MOTHERFUCKER!'' he started hitting the steering wheel with his flat hand. `` Dude...'' It was Jane, her sunglasses were hanging from her face and her waxen expressioin was one of utmost imprtance and astonishment `` that was **SOME** big ass crocodile you just ran over!''
Jesse, who had seemingly been asleep, jolted into an upright position and, with a red head, adressed Jane: `` Crocodile? You ran over a crocodile? We need to do something!'' `` Naw dude, it was n't me, it was him, she pointed at Griggs, Who was still hitting the steering wheel. `` Where is it, we need to make it to town, we need to do something!'' Jesse jumped out of the car and looked at it. The tires, it seemed, were gone and the hull of the car had come to a screeching halt on the asphalt. `` The tires are gone, it took our tires!!'' `` MOTHERFUCKER!''
Lucy knew that the situation was about to escalate, soon they would realise that they were trapped out here, nowhere to go, and that the only way to survive was cannibalism, but until now, they seemed not to have come to this inevitable conclusion yet. `` Oh nonono.....'' Jesse whipered while crunched down into a ball and rubbed his head. `` nooo, the crocodile took our tires!'' with that a single tear ran across his red, tense cheek `` Shit, I need to get our tires back!'' He sarted to run into the driection the had come from. Griggs and Jane followed him reluctantly.
The poor fool. Clearly there had not been a crocodile, but Jane's fume-fuelled imagination had planted this notion into his head and now there was nothing left to do but to stick together. So lucy lifted herself out of the car and followed the others. After a couple of hours they came to the spot where the skid marks of their car's hull began. And sure enough, there was a crocodile lying there in the middle of the road, its red feathers strewn everywhere and a flat part in the middle of the body, where the tire had hit it. `` Ohhhhhh nonoooonooooo nooo....'' Jesse cowered down and rubbed his head `` nooo....'' he started sobbing. `` Dude, that shure are a lot of crocodile feathers. I mean where do they keep them? do they have some sort of secret feather stash? I mean, like a kangaroo?'' `` Hey! Motherfucker! where are our tires!'' Griggs spoke direcly to the crocodile.The cadavre twitched. It shivered. It turned its head, its eyes.... its horrible eyes glaring like burning coal... and with its yellow beak it spoke: `` Welcome to Omsk.''
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[ WP ] It 's the year 2017 , but instead of going through an industrial revolution in the 18th century , we went through a botanic revolution .
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The cobbled streets whizzed by Silvio as he lazily rode his bicycle to work. It was a leisurely drive of 20 minutes from Provins to Voulton. His family's estate covered various farms dotted all across the French countryside around Provins. Monsieur Tremble greeted him from his horse carriage.'Bonjour Monsieur Nicolescu!' he greeted Silvio. Silvio gave him a short salute and continued on his way to Voulton. The fields to his left and right had a vibrant green hue to them and the harvesting season would soon be upon them. The wheat and potato fields had abundant amounts of bounty ripe for the harvest. They have been bred to perfection through decades of selection. As a result, France was one of the top exporters of wheat and potatoes in the world.
Silvio continued further down the road and admired the wind generators in the distance, producing electricity for the people and ensuring that the various greenhouses of Voulton received enough electricity for the automatic watering and climate regulation. It was in those greenhouses that the more exotic produce was kept and taken care of meticulously. Cannabis, coffee, bananas, strawberries, sometimes even coconut trees. The size of the greenhouses rivaled those of the fields, but most of the content of the greenhouses went directly to the family Nicolescu, that owned various estates nearby, as well as into the capital and to King Louis XVII himself.
Silvio dismounted his bicycle and entered the yard. The son of the overseer, Serge, hobbled towards Silvio. Serge had survived Polio, unlike some of his siblings, and was learning to take over from his father, Charles.'Bonjour, monsieur' Serge attempted a bow but Silvio, out of courtesy and due to his rank, forbade it out of respect for his affliction. Serge smiled thankfully, as bowing would have taken him a considerable amount of time.'How are things, Serge?' Silvio walked up beside Serge and slowly, gracefully, ignored Serge's deficiency as they walked side-by-side towards his father's house.'All is well, monsieur. Thank you. I am blessed by the holy spirit to still have this life. How fares your family?' Serge asked. Silvio considered himself fortunate compared to those who toiled in the fields for him and respected Serge. He spoke not of the feast they had a week prior, or the fact that the famous composer Adams had arrived last week and gave his family a private concert, although he did not doubt that the word thereof spread fairly quickly to the farms.'All is well, thank you, Serge' Silvio smiled.
'Fantastic, monsieur. Please, come into our humble home' Serge opened the door and ushered Silvio in. Inside seven children played in the hallway. Serge shooed them away and their giggles echoed through the house. Two of Serge's cousins entered and curtsied. Silvio greeted them and they went their way. Soon thereafter, Charles followed, Serge's father. Silvio went for an embrace.'Silvio! Monsieur you must n't!' Charles resisted with futility.'Ah, but I must Uncle! How are you?' Silvio asked. Charles was not an uncle to Silvio per se, but Silvio spent most of his time on the farms Charles oversaw when he was a child. Good fortune and good marriage uplifted the Nicolescu family, as well as a bout of tuberculosis that eradicated an entire estate up north, which led to the Nicolescu's buying it up at a very reasonable price.
Charles wiped away a tear'Ah, it is always good to see you mon ami. Have you come to stay for food, or just making the rounds?' Charles enquired to Silvio. His thick moustache enveloped his face and his beard gracefully covered his double chin.'Only the round this time uncle, but I intend to come in a fortnight to attend the harvest festival. If I may of course' and at this Charles scoffed'Naturally, my boy! Naturally!' and slapped him on the back and ushered him into his office. Two girls in the office scurried out as the men entered, Serge hobbling right behind them. Charles took a seat at his desk and Serge pulled out a chair for Silvio. Silvio thanked him and seated himself, while Serge sat to Silvio's right.'How is the family?' Charles asked as he poured everyone a glass of wine. Silvio stared at the cups in semi-disgust, especially considering how the concert had gone, yet accepted the glass with a smile out of courtesy. It was only 10am.'Fairs well, uncle. There is a marriage soon, my sister is to marry the Duke of Mainz''That charlatan? I beg your forgiveness, but with you I can speak freely''Of course uncle' to which Charles downed the wine and then had another'That! That is what I think of him' and they all laughed.
'It is a damn shame that the church is suffering so. Do you know how many came to the sermon last Sunday, my son?' to which Serge looked up, only to realize he meant Silvio'No, uncle, how many?' Silvio answered, noticing Serge's disappointment out of the corner of his eye.'Seven. Seven! Can you believe it? I think it's all the free-thinkers. Heathens, the lot of them. They say in the Americas that the churches still get double digits, the big ones in the city even triple! Imagine, 100 or more singing praise to our saviour. That is how it should be!' Charles tipped his glass to Silvio and had a swig of his wine. Silvio nodded absent-mindedly and tipped his glass likewise to Charles, in the back of his mind he remembered that the meeting of the Masons was this Saturday at the observatory.
'Either way, one thing they did bring is the sturdiness of our crops. Resistant to all and everything I tell you. No one in the French Empire goes hungry, it is truly glorious.' Serge nodded and Silvio smiled. Silvio used this as an entrance to ask about the business'How is the yield looking this year, uncle?' and Charles sat upright, as if shocked by the fact that they discussed business so quickly.'Of course! Serge, get the ledger if you will' and Serge jolted up as well, supporting himself on his father's desk. Charles raised his eyebrows to Silvio as Serge hobbled towards the bookcase to get the ledger. Silvio gave no expression to Charles, he felt nothing but the utmost sympathy for Serge.'Here you are father' Serge laid the ledger down on the correct page. Charles nodded in approval'You're a good son. God did not will you to have a strong body, but your mind is ten times as strong as a result' and Serge smiled as he hobbled back to his chair. Silvio nodded to Charles and Charles gave him a nod back. There was a silence as Charles looked through the ledger and Silvio took out a small book.
'Right, we have 10,000 bushels of wheat, 140 tons of potatoes, 3 tons of cannabis, 12 tons of tea leaves, 25 tons of fruits, assorted, and 5,000 tulips' Charles smiled'The tulips will look fantastic in arrangements in the capital, I am sure!' and Silvio smiled'Without a doubt. I am glad uncle, this far surpasses what we expected''Aye, we only use 7 % of the foods we've produced this year. I assume most of it will be exported?' but Silvio looked at his book, noting the numbers and making calculations.'Hmm, yes. It seems most of this will be exported within France. There is a drought in the Southwest and we will be covering it. The Prussian confederacy ordered a lot of potatoes after a plight they had in the Silesian region''Again?' Serge asked. Silvio leaned back in his chair'Yes, not all are as fortunate as the French Empire, Serge. Prussia is doing well, especially after they had conquered the entirety of the Polish regions, but their wars in the Africas are leading to problems.' Silvio sighed'I am glad our King is simply consolidating power in the other regions, but I fear a war is brewing in Asia.''What have you heard?' Charles leaned forward, eager to know anything of distant lands.
Silvio re-arranged himself in his chair'Well, it seems that there has been a development of sorts in Ayutthaya. It appears that they have discovered a means of using steam to power machines instead of the power of the sun''Steam?' Serge asked, incredulous. Silvio nodded'Indeed. These brutes use coal and wood to build fires and use the heat and smoke to power machines, rather than the sun''Madness!' Charles laughed and had another swig of wine. Silvio laughed'I know! Absolutely insane. Imagine the damage it would do to the crops and fields and forests. It would be suicidal for the balance of our delicate planet. Either way, the local government has been trying to suppress it, but there is one problem. The Ayutthayan monarchy seems to be producing weapons and bombs and gunpowder very fast. This is all thanks to that'steam' power. It is threatening to say the least. These brutes have never heard of chivalry in warfare, I'll tell you that much' Silvio sighed and had a drink of his wine.
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[ WP ] I hate myself more more than you hate me ...
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“ I hate myself more than you hate me… ” Lauren said honestly. My blood was boiling, I ’ m sure that isn ’ t possible. I stood there looking her in the eye, after a few moments she looked away down to her feet, coward. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
For a moment I was somewhere else. In a field on one of the first days of spring, when you can ’ t believe how warm the sun feels on your pale skin. I had almost forgotten the effect that Vitamin D could have on my soul. The flowers were in bloom, the wind was blowing, and the pollen was making my allergies act up. But the day was too nice to care. Then I heard their voices, their laughing happy voices.
“ Miss? Miss? ” and just like that I was brought back to cold, dry court room. The prosecutor putting his arm lightly on mine. “ Do you still want to make a statement? ” I looked again at Lauren, there were tears running down her face just like mine. She looked sick and defeated in her orange jump suit.
The judge was patiently waiting behind his bench, the jury in their box, and friends and family behind me. Was I ready to make my statement?
“ Forgiveness is a word that gets thrown around a lot. ” I began, “ My husband forgave me when I yelled at him over over a misplaced pan, my son forgave me when I put him in time out. Sometimes we forgive little things, sometimes big things. But I don ’ t think we ever truly understand what that forgiveness means until we are faced with something so huge it causes us to forgive again and again, day after day. ”
I took a moment to catch my breath, I was choking up. I didn ’ t want to cry I couldn ’ t cry. “ Everyday I wake up I try to forgive. I try to forgive myself for not holding my loved ones closer to my heart, for not being more grateful. I have to forgive Lauren. I can ’ t always, not all the time. Sometimes I am so angry that I can ’ t help but to scream or to throw something, I am running out of dishes. Sometimes forgiveness warms my heart and brings me closer to my loved ones. But forgiveness is now part of my life, everyday like it or not. I am either consumed with anger or consumed with love. It is never easy. ”
I look one final look at Lauren, only for a moment before I had to look away. “ So what I ask the court today is for forgiveness. Forgiveness for this girl who sits in front of you. Forgiveness for the girl who killed my husband and son. If I can try to forgive her everyday for her mistake then I think you can too. At least show leance. And above all I hope, ” I looked at Lauren now and spoke directly to her, “ I hope you can forgive yourself too. ”
I sat back down. The courtroom was silent for a moment. Letting my words sink in. I was grateful for that. Then the judge hit his gavel on the table.
“ Has the jury reached a verdict? ”
“ We have your honor. ”
“ Will the defendant please rise. ”
“ We find the defendant guilty of gross vehicular manslaughter while intoxicated. ”
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[ WP ] Take these four lines and make something of it
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The overbearing hum of the bus engine was almost loud enough to swallow the music coming from Lauren's earphones. Almost.
The thin, angular body the girl bore was sprawled awkwardly over the dark, grimy blue bus seats. Hazy shades of yellow light from the pale overhead bus lamps above cast a piss-yellow filter on everything, but it did n't matter. Lauren had her eyes closed, and was drifting away with her music. The outside world did n't matter any more than the shitty apartment she was being carried to. The volume was dialed up on her phone as far as it would go, but she could barely hear it with her dollar-store earphones. Her lips softly whispered the lyrics of the chorus, barely audible to even herself.
*He knows my name*
*he knows my every thought*
*he sees each tear that falls*
*and hears me when I call. *
The lyrics, called out by a sweet, swooning female voice, vaguely reminded her of the `` warm'' welcoming she was entitled to when she got home.
*Please, Lauren. * she thought to herself, opening her eyes to the bus, empty save herself and the bus driver. *The only thing warm about the welcome you'll be getting is the warm sting of a hand across your face. Who are you kidding? *
She swung her legs over the seats in front of her nonchalantly, pushing back her own thoughts. *Quit it. Stop thinking about it. The less you think about it, the less you live it. * She may have known that was n't true, but that was n't going to stop Lauren from trying to drown out the rest of the world with that same damn song. She slowly let the air in her lungs hiss out while she tried to relax, folding her arms tight over her chest.
Those smelly, dark, dusty moments on the bus alone were often all the time Lauren had to herself. She enjoyed them, no matter how shitty, even if the joy she felt was forced. Despite the odd smell of gasoline and sweat, despite the more than annoying flashes of street lamps, despite the way the cheap molded plastic chairs rubbed mercilessly against her bony ass, despite *anthing* - those rare moments alone were the only escape she had between work and an asshole father.
To the most bitter of Lauren's detests, the bus's engine began to trail off. The wheels came to a slow, creeping crawl and stopped with a lurch.
`` Alright, babe,'' the bus driver chortled in a gruff voice. `` this is your stop. Rough ride is up.''
Lauren sneered with an air of annoyance as she quickly leaped from her seat, shoving her hands in her pockets. She knew what was coming. *The'rough ride' is up, but the roughness does n't stop here. * she thought angstily, trying not to look up as she hopped off the bus and onto the sidewalk of her father's apartment. *It does n't stop anywhere. *
The bus pulled away with a loud rambling roar from the engine and a plume of black emission. Lauren woefully, angrily, but most of all knowingly stepped off of the sidewalk and onto the top step in front of the door to the apartment. It was going to be a rough night.
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[ WP ] The year is 3000 , only people with the firmest hand shake could survive in the business world . Years of evolution has made human grip terrifying .
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`` How are you feeling? The doctor says all of the bones in your hand were crushed.''
``...''
`` Please honey, you have to eat something. I'm worried about you. That handshake, it changed you...''
The sick room is quiet, the atmosphere deathly still, yet the tension is palpable.
`` I...''
The figure in the bed speaks, his eyelids clench and his adam's apple bobs as he concentrates.
`` I lost?''
The woman next to the bed gasps softly. A tear trickles down her cheek.
`` Is it really so bad? You can still retire, still live comfortably.''
His eyes open and he turns his head. He stares intently into her eyes, finding an answer.
`` I lost...''
`` Bill... please...''
`` Melinda. You promised''
`` We all make promises Bill, but you expect me to keep this one? I love you...''
`` I love you too... but we lost...''
The woman begins to sob, her chest heaving uncontrollably. The man in the bed reaches out with his mangled digits and strokes her cheek, smiling weakly.
`` Do n't worry... there's always Linux''
The woman's features harden as she takes an object from the nightstand.
`` You were a Window into a better world... We had our ups and our downs, our 98s and our Vistas... But you were always a 10 in my eyes. I love you, Bill.''
The blue eyes sparkle for a moment as he responds.
`` I know.''
When the doctors scramble in, it's too late. With a bullet through the middle of his eyes, the world's once richest man slumps back, a goofy grin across his face.
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[ WP ] Something happy for me to read to my 9 year old sister . If you want to you can add her guinea pig to the story ( His name is Caramel ) .
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It had happen he had chosen by God Giant Hand to lead his kingdom. Caramel would lead his people to destiny and greatness and he would fulfill his quest to the God. With his tiny golden crown on his head and a red cape on his back he left his castle. In search of what the God has commanded. He searched high and far to the top the log above his small yet great kingdom to the low which was the ground. Hey had traveled far and there he had found nothing, his journey was long and he was at a place that gone beyond his kingdom's boundary. He did n't know what he was searching for. Was it destiny, purpose, a cure to world poverty, a command to spread the message of Giant Hand to other people. He was confused with his purpose maybe he dreamt of God giving him his mighty kingdom, his golden crown, and his velvet cape. He went to sleep with thoughts in his mind. When he came to the earth again he saw a testament to his life. Food abundant food had appeared in front of him wrapped in silver raised up to the heavenly sky. He knew what he had chosen for, and he knew that he had a purpose after all that the kingdom he had been given and the golden crown on his head had been a testament to His glory. The cape was a sign of his wealth and had been given out of His good heart. He carried the silver dish back it took him days sleeping and working repeat the process day after day until he was home. He rested inside knowing he had a solution to world hunger.
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[ WP ] Each child in your village is chosen by a weapon at their coming of age . The deadlier the weapon , the greater the prestige for the family . You 've been chosen by the pen .
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`` Together forever.'' That's what they had promised each other. Nate and Thomas, inseparable brothers. Just before they received their weapons, they promised that it was them against the world. Thomas was presented with a powerful axe, it was a source of great pride. Nate, however, was n't as lucky. He got a pen. His whole family laughed at him. He could n't bear the shame, so he ran away, to his favorite spot in the woods.
Nate thought it was all over. He'd be resigned to some boring administrative work. But Thomas would n't have it. `` Together forever.'' They reached an accord. They would take new names, and run away together to a life of Adventure. That was the day when they became Tomahawk and Notebook.
It had been many years since that day, and they did well together. Yet their greatest trial was yet to come. Tomahawk did what he did best, cleaving through the evil wizard's minions, Notebook recording information to his bestiary. They were at the summit of the tower. That was when the wizard emerged. He was cloaked in red mist, with corpses rising when they inhaled the fumes of his magic.
`` Notebook! You handle the wizard!'' Tomahawk shouted, his axe claiming another kill. `` I'll deal with these goons!'' Notebook nodded. He walked up to the wizard, pen in his mouth. Instead of attacking, Notebook was reading intently. The wizard, clearly amused with this, laughed.
`` You're going to kill me with A PEN!?'' His laughter was flowing out of him, as was the red mist. `` Do n't you know i can only be killed by ancient magics lost to the ages?'' He wiped a tear from his eye as he finished his fit of laughter. Notebook simply kept reading, face blank. `` I'll tell you what, mortal.'' The wizard said. `` You betray your friend over there that's killing my minions, and I'll let you live. How about that?''
Notebook muttered something in some gibberish language. `` I'm sorry, what was that?'' the wizard inquired. Notebook looked up, then realized his pen was still in his mouth. After removing it, he spoke.
`` Right, what i said was:'' Notebooks words made no sound. But the void heard, and was more than happy to oblige. A rupture appeared in the air, behind the wizard. As the rupture grew larger, the mist flowing from the wizard was sucked in, feeding it. The void starting tugging on the wizard's clothing.
`` What!? What did you do!?'' The wizard was furious. `` Nobody should know that! NOBODY!'' Notebook only smiled. He closed his tome, resting it at his side. The wizard started to lose his footing.
`` You think that those words were forgotten? Well they were.'' Notebook opened his bestiary, showing the wizard a page on'The Endless Void'. `` That's why you take notes.'' That page was the last thing the wizard saw before being consumed. `` Thanks, Vince.''
Vince, the endless void, replied with a satisfied crackling as the rupture began to close again. As the wound in reality healed itself, all of the minions raised fell dead; their connection to their master gone. Tomahawk walked over beside Notebook, absolutely drenched in blood. `` You know, I heard that offer that he made you.''
Notebook just smiled. `` He has no idea who we are, brother.'' he said. `` Together forever.''
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[ PI ] [ CC ] - A teenage girl running away from home takes a bus to the last stop , where only her and an older man exit . As the bus pulls away , the man begins to weep .
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**To Those Who Stayed**
“ Dernier arrêt, Oyonnax. Sortie la bus s ’ il te plait ” Came over the loudspeaker.
La Conducteur knew that there were only two people on the bus, but after 25 years of driving the same route to and from he had become accustomed to this way of doing things. As he came up to the stop he noticed the two people left on the bus were a ordinary bunch. A girl was grabbing her bag from above the chairs who couldn ’ t have been more than 17 or 18. He had seen her get on the bus back in Lyon, looking quite nervous and pale. The other was one of his regulars, a traveler of unknown origin that looked ragged, like the years had not been easy for him. They both got off the bus quietly without making any conversation, but as the doors closed he heard the girl say in a very soft voice.
“ Merci ”
Calling this stop a bus station would be a generous use of words. It more resembled a curb with a park bench and a sign, appropriate more for a corner with a homeless beggar. A more apt description, as that is what it had become for these two.
The old man slowly walked toward the bench, taking his time to not trip over the curb. It was starting to get dark but the streetlight had only barely started to turn on, making it yet more difficult for the old man with old eyes and old legs. His ragged clothing bequeathing him with a odor of cats that one only finds in houses of lonely ladies. Time had worn on him but had not yet broken him completely.
The girl didn ’ t know what to do when she got off. Looking around at the stop that she got off, she looked very confused. The 60 Euro she had in her pocket was all that was left after she bought the ticket away, her ticket to anywhere. Right now anywhere seemed scary.
They both sat on the bench, and for a long time no one made a noise.
Seconds seemed like minutes, and minutes seemed like hours for the girl on the bench. She fidgeted, she scanned the horizon, she fidgeted yet again never seeming comfortable. Glance after glance at the old man, first to decide whether he was dangerous but it was quite obvious that he was not, then after to see who this man was.
The time went by fast for the old man, because he had started to cry. He tried to hide it as best as he could from the girl sitting next to him, as she would not understand his pain.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence to the young girl, she finally worked up the courage to say something.
“ Qui est-tu? ” she asked.
The man didn ’ t react.
“ Monsieur, que fait-tu ici? ” she inquired again, more adamantly this time.
In a low, grumbly voice the man finally responded.
“ Je suis personne, je crois. Qui etes-vous? Pourquoi tu reste ici avec moi? ”
The girl started to explain her situation. Resorting to her fast paced high pitched voice that she used when she was uncomfortably rambling.
“ Moi, j ’ sais pas pourquoi je suis ici exactement. Il y a beacoup de raison pour mon presence mais c ’ est pas très interessent. Alors, il a commencéavec mes parents. Je crois que…..''
The old man stopped her mid-sentence.
“ Lentement s ’ il te plait, mon francias ce n ’ est pas tres bien. ”
She heard his accent finally and corrected herself. With her french accent she changed languages to something that might be more familiar.
“ Oh, would you like to speak in English instead. I studied English for many years in grade school ” Said the girl, pronouncing the E in English with particular bravado.
“ Yes that would be preferable. ” The old man said comfortably.
“ Please continue with your story. ”
“ Well, my English is not so good, so feel free to correct me as I go along. ” Said the girl.
She started slower this time as she was self-conscious about her English.
“ I ran away from my home. I could not live with my father anymore; I could not handle the constant yelling and screaming that would go on. My father would yell at my sister and I about some very little thing that was wrong. Every time we were only able to sit there and listen to him get angry ”
“ And this is why you ran away? ” inquired the man, trying to help her rationalize her feelings.
“ This was not all that they did, but it was one reason. My father would come home from work and sit at the table with a drink. No one was to disturb him, even my little sister who only has 4 years old ”
“ you mean who only IS four years old ” Corrected the man.
“ Oh yes thank you for the correction, only IS four years old. I was in the room one time when my little sister was running around the kitchen with a glass in her hand. She tripped and fell right in front of my father and he got very angry. He started yelling at my sister for being so clumsy, but she is only 4! Then I came in and he started yelling at me, but this time I did n't just sit there and take it. I yelled back for the first time ever, and I gave it everything I had. I made sure he knew that he could not do this anymore, and to prove it I was going to leave and never come back. ”
The girl ’ s voice started to get very upset, almost to the point where she could feel the tears welling up inside of her. She did n't realize that she was getting so emotional in front of this stranger.
“ I just hate him, I hate him so much, I can ’ t stand living with him ”
“ You mean you couldn ’ t stand living with him? ” corrected the man.
The girl looked at him inquisitively. She thought she had said it correctly, she thought she still hated the man that forced her out of her own home.
“ Well you no longer live with him, he is no longer in your life, so it is past tense, you could n't stand living with him. ”
She thought about that for a second, making sure to translate it correctly in her head so that she understood what the man was saying.
“ I guess. ” She responded, too emotional to give way to reason.
“ Why do you think your father was such an angry man? ” asked the stranger on the bench, although he had now become more than just a stranger to the girl, more of a confidant.
“ He was angry because my mother left him when he had my sister. My mother blamed him for her being born and left us all alone. ” Said the girl.
Remembering her mother and all of the things that had caused her to leave her house in Lyon was bringing tears to her eyes. She couldn ’ t keep her emotions kept up inside and started to cry. Through her hands over her face and the tears in her eyes the man could just make out the line.
“ Je les déteste, je les déteste tous ” I hate them, I hate them all
The old man put his arm over her shoulder and said “ t'inquiète pas, tout va bien se passer ”.
The moment lasted what seemed like a lifetime.
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[ CW ] Start the story with a one word sentence , followed by a two word sentence , then a three word sentence and so on . Increase the word count incrementally until you reach the middle , then decrease until the end .
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Light.
It's like...
Ca n't describe it.
Light unlike any other.
The fluorescent rays strike me.
Sending warm waves throughout my body.
This is good, I tell myself confidently.
I feel myself floating closer towards this perfection.
My entire life led me up to this moment.
This singular moment of glory as I reach my destination.
But something holds me back from this warm beauty.
I strain to reach towards the heavenly glow.
I'm yanked back even further than before.
A terror rushes through me now.
I'm pulled down so deep.
My screams now bleed.
Even deeper still.
No light.
Pain.
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[ CW ] Using terrible analogies , write me a story about a private detectives first case .
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They called me Kansas City. It was n't my name. Just a place I once lived. I guess it was easier to say than Heihustus Bonngailetti. What was mom thinking naming me that. Shit, I'd call me Kansas City too if I had to twist my lips around my name hundred times a day.
The blonde liked my real name and went out of her way to find reasons to use it. I think sometimes that was half the reason she crawled into bed with me each night. Her cries of *Heihustus* had the super at my door more than once complaining about the noise. She always claimed she just wanted to be held, but the headboard was slapping the wall before midnight had finished it's last chime on the wall clock down the hall.
When she let herself in, the neon signs across the street were already painting my shades pink and blue. I figured she came to shout my name again, but she stopped me with an outstretched hand. My mood soured faster than milk in a car trunk. And the little guy that she swore was a monster, he understood the command and stood at ease, raking the inside of my zipper as cruelly as the applause a mouse gives a tap dancing elephant.
`` I got a job for you?'' She said, giving me the cold eyes. I could have chipped ice off her cold shoulder and made a penguin's day. `` I need you to find someone, and do n't be asking questions... dick.'' She told me, turning on the sizzle.
`` And who, pray tell, is this missing body?'' I inquired, running my fingers up and down her silky arm.
`` His name in Travis. He's an old -- he works for a bookie down in the Point.'' She said, opening her mouth for the kiss she expected to pay me with.
`` Business doll. You pay green like everyone else. The gas man do n't accept soiled sheets, and when I'm on the job, I do n't either.'' She pulled a roll from between her heavenly swells of womanhood and tossed it to me.
`` Half. The rest when you find him.'' She said. I hefted the roll and thumbed through it. She really wanted this dead beat and bad.
`` I'll have him for you in forty-eight hours.'' I told her.
`` Hurry back.'' She told me. `` I have n't called out your name in days.'' She confessed, disappearing in a swirl of skirts and sultury femininity. I wanted her as bad as a smoker wants a pack of Belair. I grabbed my hat, adjusted my soldier, and hurried out into the hall to catch the last whiffs of her lingering perfume.
She was already descending the stairs, her hips rocking and dropping and my mind imagined the swing and bounce of her breast. I shook the thought away. I was on the job. Thinking about a dame got more than one private dick killed on the job. I would n't be counted among their numbers.
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[ WP ] In 2469 humanity ( finally ) broke the warp-barrier and prepared to explore new worlds and new civilizations ... only to discover that we are in fact alone , completely and totally alone .
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The Ragar 12 reached the outer rim of the galaxy. The crew was nervous. This was the last solar system on the galaxy, and, so far, they had n't found life. This was there last shot to prove they were not the only species on the galaxy.
`` all right, lads. We are about to officailly find out if we are alone. If we are thats terrifying because god might be real. If there is life its scary because there is no god.'' Familta, the captin of the ship, adressed her crew. She could care less wheather god was real or not. She wanted to meet life.she wanted to know that there was a purpose to humanity.
`` 10 minutes until we orbit the forst planet'' the first mate, Dairfis, anounced to the rest of the crew.
The crew was awash with excitement. the last star system held four planets. only one could hold life as they knew it. After the first 100 failures, crews were ordered to search all planets. ASAN wanted to be throrough.
The Ragar 12 approached the first planet. A small volcanic planet that had the potentail to old life someday, once it cooled.
The Captain anounced down to the Planet'' intelligent species of this planet, we implore you to respond to our call. We humans of the planet Earth and the star Sun wish to communicate.''
No response. The crew tried scanning for signs of life. None. They move to the next planet this one is the earth like planet. same procedure they only fiound water and rocks. last planet. Nothing.
After failing at all star systems in their galaxy, the captain wept. She fully realized it was pointless for humanity to continue and thrive. It woukd eventually die with the universe leaving nothing behind. She cursed the god that she never belived in for making such a useless thing as life.
The crew stared at her. Not fully aware of her sadness. they were disapointed that they were alone. They still had purpose, but she no longer did.
She warped her crew home. They docked at the ASAN staion on Athena prime. It was the humans first colony outside their solar system. She went home in her saddend and depresses state.
Familta lived in a 2 room apartment just outside the base. She thought about there findings. She couldnt stand humanity being so puposeless as it is now. The confirmation of no life within their galaxy meant that it wouldnt be any where else. She and her crew found exact replicas of earth.But they had no life. She wanted to ask God its self. Why?
She went to her closet took out her shot gun and loaded it. She went to write a not so that some one would see this.
Final captains log~Familta
I found out we are alone. God msut exist and love inly us if this is the case. Why would he not ake more life other wise? Why makes humanity? Why make a pointless little species doomed to die? I plan to ask him. I give my ship and my crew to my first mate. I have nothing else of worth. No family or friends only my crew. I give them to him. Now I exit this world
~familta
She killed herslelf. God was real. But she found out. God was dead. He died making humanity.
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[ WP ] Based on a story my son wrote ... You 're walking through the forest and accidentally kick a rock . A snake emerges . `` Can you help me find my family ? '' You reach for the rock and ask , `` Is this your family ? '' `` Yes , '' the snake responds . `` Thank you . ''
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John -
It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that you are being terminated from your position as Director of Script Acquisitions at Silverlight Films, effectively immediately. While we do appreciate all of the time you've spent with us, we simply could not forgive your spending $ 400,000 on a script about a snake that was written by a four year-old.
We understand that the film acquisition industry is one that requires a certain amount of risk, and admit that a number of your bets have paid off for us in the past. This script, though, was less than one page long, contained four lines of dialogue exchanged between two characters, and featured no action or imagery that would lend itself to a feature-length film. The script's title, `` You're Walking Through A The Forest And Accidentally Kick A Rock. A Snake Emerges,'' is both entirely too long *and* accounts for almost half of the script itself, including all of the descriptive elements. I would have hoped that this would have been a major red flag for you after twenty-four years in the industry.
The entire story consists of a boy kicking a rock, being asked by a snake to help find his family, handing that same rock back to the snake, and the snake thanking the boy. That's literally it. There is no character building, rising action, any sort of climax, resolution, or takeaway to be had by whatever prospective audience you were thinking would pay to watch this film. Our production specialists said that, even with extended scenic shots, they could not expect to make the film last for any more than 35-40 seconds. Also, it does n't make any sense, as no explanation is provided as to why the snake believes the rock is his family. The accounting department says that they see no way to make any money by producing this film, not even accounting for the fact that no theater in the country would provide screens for a 35 second film about a rock.
I'm sorry it had to end this way, John. We really do appreciate what you did for us, and wish you all the best going forward.
All the best,
Bill Norton
President, Silverlight Films
-- --
You're walking through the forest and accidentally kick a rock. A snake emerges. `` Can you help me find other stories by u/highpothetically?'' You reach for the rock and ask, `` [ Is this his personal subreddit where you can read more and subscribe? ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/highpothetically/ )'' `` Yes,'' the snake responds. `` Thank you.''
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[ WP ] A short story that appears to have a happy ending but is actually dark and depressing
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Jake swatted the air around his face disturbing the swarm of gnats craving the sweat streaming down his temples.
`` Quiet,'' Marc hissed. He raised his arm in a stopping motion. He pricked his ear as the team halted.
The swarm of gnats continued to torment Jake and the rest of the squad. Joe leaned close to Marc. `` Any *dinks*?'' Marc just shook his head and motioned for the band to continue through the jungle.
Jake heard it first. He froze in place, swallowing a gnat as he opened his mouth to speak. He suppressed a gag. The others, operating as the elite unit they became over months of hard effort, ceased motion immediately.
Faint scurrying sounds emerged. Jake scanned the trees for signs and noticed branches shaking in the distance. Too much for a small animal. He pointed out the disturbance to Marc, who quickly formulated a course of action. He sent Jake up the nearest tree.
Jake climbed like a monkey, his lanky frame hugging the wide bark. He chose the thickest branches to minimize jitter. He watched the band of men disappear into the thick brush silently.
Jake cautiously leapt to other trees closer to the disturbance. When he heard the cracks of branches in the distance, he tensed.
Marc grabbed the largest fallen branch and snapped it loudly. To his right, Joe cursed. Frank and Jimmy both opted for the broken twig routine. They kept surveillance on the dink as they surrounded him.
`` You see that?'' Marc whispered loud enough.
The Viet Cong soldier panicked. He could n't sight the enemy. He needed to report them to his command post. He shimmied down the tree and headed away from the disturbance. He needed support.
`` These invaders will be punished,'' he thought as he glanced over his shoulder. Jake fell on him from above, pinning him to a bed of brambles and leaves. He held a knife to the dink's throat. The dink started to shout anyway, so Jake silenced him with a hard blow.
By the time Marc and the others arrived, Jake had the dink trussed up and ready for removal. `` Excellent job,'' Marc said to the squad. A rare comment from command. As they moved toward their extraction point, the team froze again. One noise above all others in the jungle had that immediate affect.
After months in the jungle, a person accustoms himself to the sounds surrounding him from insect clicks to animal grunts. But the metallic click of a landmine engaging is the most terrifying sound of them all. Each man looked down.
`` Shit!'' Marc cursed. `` Go! That's an order.''
`` Catch! Run!'' Jake said, as he shouldered Marc away from the trigger and landed stomach first on the mine. Joe pulled Marc to safety and Frank carried the dink through the trees where shrapnel, and Jake, could n't reach them. They needed to bring home their prize.
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[ WP ] You are a scavenger who has lived your entire life in a post apocalyptic wasteland . One day , you stumble onto a bunker and open it . Inside is a friendly looking old woman , who adjusts her reading glasses , brushes the dust off her apron , and says `` Oh ? Is it safe to go out on the surface now ? ''
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`` Oh, is it safe to go out on the surface now? You do n't look sick or anything'', she said, looking me over. `` But you do look in need of a good meal. Come in. My name is Bella, and I guess as of now, I'm the worlds only gourmet cook. Granted, it all comes from cans, but you ca n't really be that picky when the apocalypse has come and gone. And to think, I thought I was the last one alive! Dear me! You must think I'm crazy with how much I'm talking! But you understand surely, it's been AGES since the last time I had another person to talk to. Come in, and change your clothes. Those rags... are better off as rags.''
I smiled. `` I do n't mind how much you're talking, it's nice to hear another human voice. I'm Ericka, and I've been wandering for...'' I stopped to consider. Keeping track of the years was n't easy with no calendar, so I counted winters instead. `` Eight years. My food ran out, and I had no choice. I expected to die of radiation poisoning any day, but it never happened.''
`` Well I'm glad some one is brave. The porta-shower is in that closet, and I've got extra clothes in that big bin next to it. There is a bathrobe hanging on the door, so just toss your clothes in that other bin, the small one. How've you survived this long?''
`` One day at a time Bella, one damn difficult day at a time.'' At my luck of finding a friendly person I cried as I had n't in many years. `` Ex... excuse me... I..gu... guess I'm juh... just real... really emo... emotional right n..now.''
`` That's fine dear, I understand. I'll fix some dinner and we can chat, or not. It's up to you.''
I smiled again, the tears painting tracks down my dirty face. `` Sounds good to me.''
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[ WP ] A wanted man sits down next to you at a bus station , you 're the first person that recognizes him .
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One evening Timothy sat down at the bus station. There was a pretty lady sitting on the bench so Timothy sat next to her leaving a small buffer zone between. He started to talk and stopped when he realized he had nothing to say. He was too busy imagining their three children -- twin girls and a baby boy. She looked at him and raised her eyebrow. Then a good idea occurred.
`` Want to rob a bank?'' Timothy joked.
The pretty lady chuckled and declined. Before Timothy could continue the joke, a man sat in the buffer zone between them. The man had a large beard, and sunglasses. Timothy recognized him from a news report that morning. He was the Thief of Flushing.
Timothy took a deep breath. The bus pulled up. The three of them entered. The bus was empty other than the old driver. The Thief of Flushing sat near the driver, to Thomas' dismay. The perfect place for something bad. The pretty lady sat farther down. Thomas sat right next to the pretty lady.
`` I'd like some space, please,'' the pretty lady said.
`` I'm sorry, but I think you're in danger,'' Timothy said and pointed at the Thief. `` That man is wanted. He's the Thief of Flushing.''
The pretty lady squinted. `` I do n't know. I thought he had blonde hair.''
`` You're mistaken. It was brown. I'm certain that's him.''
`` Well, then why have n't you called the police if you're certain?''
Timothy took a deep breath. He imagined the long life ahead he had with this pretty lady. He had yet to do anything to earn it. `` Because I have a better idea.''
Timothy rose and marched toward the front of the bus. He passed the Thief of Flushing and went up to the old driver. He waited until they reached a red light. Then Timothy punched the old man, and took the wheel. The pretty lady screamed and the Thief of Flushing acted strange. The Thief picked up the driver and sat him in a seat.
`` I've called the police,'' the pretty lady said.
`` Perfect,'' Timothy said. `` They can meet us at the precinct.''
Timothy drove passed a few bus stops as pedestrians gestured. The Thief of Flushing had his hand on the driver's shoulder, menacingly. `` He is probably stealing from the poor old driver right now,'' Timothy thought. The pretty lady looked especially pretty in the big rear view mirror.
Timothy pulled up to the police precinct. Cop cars were waiting with flashing lights, hiding behind their cars with guns drawn. Timothy looked at the pretty lady, the unconscious old driver and the menacing Thief of Flushing. Timothy winked at the pretty lady and exited the bus. `` I've caught the Thief of Flush --'' Timothy started, but was stopped when a few officers tackled him.
After Timothy had been cuffed, and the old driver was taken to the hospital, the Thief of Flushing chatted with the pretty lady. Timothy huffed and was charged with assault.
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[ WP ] You sold your soul to the Devil some years ago , today he gives it back and says , `` I need a favor '' .
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Sauntering, freed from my shackled soul
Alas, I found him again on this shithole
Creeping in this same place long years before
Ripened evil I had dealt few long years before
I quivered frantic, `` leave me!'' I implore
`` For I had no more soul to give'' but I saw something;
I shrieked, `` what odious thing you had in stores?''
Ceasing, he seized my hand, giving that odious thing
Earthed, murky and ugly, he said, `` it's yours''
`` Fake, your soul is fake.'' he complained
A glimpse in my hands -- it was nothing but crap
`` Fake goods are invalid'' he explained
At this point in time, I laughed on my trap.
`` Why are you laughing?'' he cried
`` Why are you crying? ``, I asked
`` My money, give back my money'' he replied
I picked up the money I got from the past.
`` Here's the money,'' I then gave it to him
`` Thank you, tell me, where I can change it for dollar?''
I laughed, `` there's a changer near the gym''
Few minutes later I waited; the I found him on a grim
`` He said it was fake!'' he yelped with a holler
I ran, laughing, with my soul on a roller
And you reader, perhaps not laughing
Well so am I, I do n't think I'm trying.
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[ WP ] [ PI ] The protagonist from your latest WP meets the protagonist of your first WP . How does it go ?
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`` General Hawing?''
The soft voice of the strange man echoed for seconds down the hall of the jail. Since the trial, plenty of journalist, political figures, and even the great pope wanted to meet the General.
But two months had passed, and the General never met anyone in his high geostionary security jail above Sidney.
His white beard usually trimmed to perfection was now eating his whole face. The strong look of bravery he gave at the trial was now gone, and there was only despair in his eyes.
The crazed gaze of a hero waiting his death for his heroism.
`` Sir?'' The strange man insisted calmly, `` Can you hear me?'' He seemed about 15 years old, which was really strange considering the place they were in.
The General noded back in acknowledgement, curious about the young boy.
`` Good. My name's Leus. I'm really please to finally meet you.''
`` Are you..'' The grinding voice of the tired General seem alien even to himself, he coughed,
`` Why are you here?''
`` I'm here because we are just alike you and me; well, we are now since it was impossible to compare ourselves before I was exiled''
`` Are you with the Colonial Forces? Were you in the 343rd too?'' He struck up his bed.
`` I was not General. I suppose you do know, and i'm sorry to inform you if you do n't, that the men of the 343th will be executed with you on the 25...''
The General sat back down, slowly, grunting. `` Yes, I do know that. The loyaliest men and women in the universe sentenced to death for saving too many alien life.'' He paused, and inhaled deeply.
`` Are you from Earth?''
`` No. And yes General. I was n't before my exile, but I'm considerably sure you will not believe me if I tell you where I'm really from.''
The old man snickered in his beard `` Trust me, I heard that one before. 48 years in the Colonial Forces, I've seen more worlds than you probably now about.''
`` I'm sorry General but I doubt that considerably, you may have walk on more worlds than me, but I've created most of them.''
The general looked up, surprised by a loud bang coming down the hall. Troops began to swarm the place. No tags on their shoulders, all dress in black and heavy armed.
The boy did not remove his gaze off the confused General.
`` You see General, you and I share a love for life. You gave away what made humans the best in the galaxy, our technology, saving billions in exchange for your life. Those who put you there have no right to take that love away from you.''
All the men stood to attention and saluted in unison the General.
The General saluted back, a large smile hidden behind his bushy beard.
*link to the stories: *
* [ General L.Hawing's trial ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2368hm/wp_humans_discover_faster_than_light_travel_only/cgtuz8y ) *
* [ Leus, the planet caretaker ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1svs0d/ip_where_planets_are_born/ce1rgyn ) *
*All feedbacks are greatly appreciated!: D*
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[ WP ] `` That 's why he 's the most dangerous of them all . Everything he says begins to make beautiful , terrible sense . ''
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The investigators stood across from the table separated by a two way mirror and the wall. The light over their heads buzzed steadily. In the other room, a green-white flourescent flickered above a man seated behind a steel table, which made him seem ghostly. The table was covered with blood.
“ What the fuck just happened? ” one of the men said after an extended silence. The three of them, the two detectives and the attorney, didn ’ t know what to think. The chief had gone in to break him, make him talk, and now lay in a puddle of his own brains. There was no clear incitement. Just a calm back and forth before the Chief raised his gun to his mouth and blew his brains out.
Jones yanked at his tie popping his collar button to the floor stepping towards the door before Jameson, the attorney, stepped in front of the door.
“ I don ’ t think we know it ’ s safe in there. ” She said unsure how to calm the fuming bull of a man.
Richards coughed into his fist, “ Fuck. She ’ s right. We can ’ t go in there. We can ’ t pretend that didn ’ t just happen. ” He seemed short of breath.
Jones eyes softened but his pulse throbbed.
“ I ’ m not going to listen to him. I ’ m just going in there to break his fucking neck, ” he scowled.
“ Maybe that ’ s what he wants, ” Jameson calmly retorted, “ If he ticks you off, there ’ s going to be one assault charge and that ’ s on you. He ’ ll walk. He ’ s smart. ”
“ Chief has this routine, hook em and sink em. He only came in when no one else could do the job. He got rough on occasion but often never needed to even raise his voice. ” Richards looked pale, “ I ’ ve no idea what he was going on about. What he said was that about... ”
“ Who brought him in? ” Jones asked.
“ Stafford, traffic cop. Routine stop. ” Richards replied, his breaths shallow.
“ Go get him. ” Jones asked stoically.
“ What… I ’ m leading this investi… ” Richards interjected.
“ Get him Richards. Get some fresh air and get his full report. ”
Richards wiped some cold sweat from his brow. He complied looking back through the glass at the man under the flickering light whose smile seemed unnatural. The door sealed with a click and the room was tight as a coffin.
“ Jameson you want a shot at him? ”
“ Better me than you. I think you might tear his head off. ” she said readying her folders and adjusting the hem of her coat.
Jones watched unblinking as she entered and stared down the ghost of a man under the flickering green light. She went towards the wall away from the body.
“ Come closer. ” the ghost said.
“ You broke out of a Super Max. Of ten escapees, you ’ re the only one alive. You ’ ll understand if I keep my distance. ” she stated coolly.
“ But I ’ m just a man. I ’ m not a zombie. But if I was, I would just be a monster. You fear me. Not because I ’ m a monster but because I ’ m so much more than that. ”
“ You want to loosen your collar, ” he said just as she caught her hand reaching for her neck, are you afraid or are you turned on? ”
“ Mute the mic. I want to confess something, ” the ghost said cowing his head.
“ Jameson! Don ’ t mute the mic… ” She didn ’ t look back. She hit the button on the speaker on the table.
Jones sat in the absence of any sound but the electric hum of digital mosquitos. He felt them on his skin.
Jameson leaned over the table towards the ghost. He leaned into her and whispered in her ear. For a brief moment Jones saw her regret. She jerked towards the glass her eyes full with fear before the well of tears. She opened her shirt. Dropped her skirt. She got on her knees by the metal table and bit hard on the table's edge until her teeth cracked and blood poured. She whimpered like a dog before falling.
Jones pulled his pistol and held it to his ear. He fired a round across the room into the filing cabinet causing his head to spin. He stumbled towards the door. He breathed and caught his footing before going in.
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[ WP ] You are cursed with immortality . Write about your life .
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`` You're forty? But you look so young!'' My potential employer gawked, `` So what's your trick?''
I pushed the words out of my mouth, `` Just good genes, I guess ” I raised the corners just enough to impersonate a smile.
“ What a lucky man! Not quite as lucky as we will be to have you on the job, ” my interviewer winked at me, “ You should expect a call within a couple of days. ”
“ Thank you, I ’ ll be looking forward to it, ” I shook hands and dragged myself out the door.
& nbsp;
Good genes, good luck, what a joke. If only they knew; I was not to be envied but envious. If only someone could share the burden of watching everything wither away.
What would you do if you were immortal? What could you do?
I was a simple man. I lived the life of a farmer. I built my a family in the countryside. I found a wife and had 3 children. She always talked about how I looked the same as when I met her, even on her deathbed. She told me I was a kind god, for I had kept a mortal happy her entire life. She made me promise to use my divine powers to make others happy as well. I was not a god. The gods had simply smiled upon me. I respected my wife ’ s wish and set out to right the world. Only a benevolent god could have given a man such an opportunity.
I was Jesus Christ. A pillar of light in a world of darkness. I made use of the gift I had been given. People found hope when they looked to me. I helped them live only so that they could die. When the last of my apostles fell, I decided that this broken relic of the past should too, and I bled myself out on a cross. And then others started to worship my failed suicide attempt. I learned that night that what I had was a curse, not a gift.
I was the Roman empire. I created the greatest empire known to man and led humanity to a prosperous era. I took pleasures in commanding armies, crushing all that stood in my way. I cheered with my people, holding celebrations that the world would remember. Under my guidance, Rome became a symbol of power and prosperity. However, even the sturdiest boulders will erode, it was just a matter of time. I could do nothing but watch as humanity ’ s most powerful empire, my empire, withered away. It was a cruel god ’ s joke to let a man live so that he could watch others die.
I was Mansa Musa, the richest man the world had ever known. I had more money than Bill Gates could have ever imagined. I could have purchased the entire world had I wished. I indulged myself on all the pleasures of the world. Money can ’ t bring you happiness, but it can soothe the pain, the pain of living a dead man ’ s life. In time, even money became wasted on me. When you have everything, nothing is worth having. I left the Mali empire in search of a way to end it all. It was a cruel god ’ s joke to give a man everything to make it worth nothing.
I was Adolf Hitler. All conventional forms of death were failed on me. I would rather suffer the wrath of god than trudge through the emptiness of living. I helped speed along the lives of millions. For me, it was but a fraction of a second, but for them, the simple people, it was everything. My normal Tuesday changed their entire life. Oh, how I wished to be mortal. To have a life so short that I could have memories to treasure. At the end of it all, no god came to smite me. I walked away from the Nazi regime, and left others to clean up my mess. It was a cruel god ’ s joke to give a man such a meaningless power.
& nbsp;
I am a simple man. I hold a simple job. I work, I eat, I sleep. Although hunger is not lethal, it is still a pain. Although sleep is not necessary, it helps pass the time. I am like any other man. I am like anybody else. I take vacations, so that I may wander the world in search of others like me. The past hundred years have passed without results. It was a cruel god ’ s joke to kill a man by giving him life.
& nbsp;
Any advice would be appreciated. First time submission so be harsh: )
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[ WP ] All the past and present Monarchs of England are having a debate over which one of them was/is the greatest , there is no agreement until the previously silent Elizabeth II makes her opinion know .
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When the Queen had finished speaking, the Queen spoke. Then the King, followed by the King, and finally the King, at which point all the kings and queens had made their opinions known. All but one.
As the monarchs turned to hear the words of their youngest peer, they fell silent. The gentle clink of her teacup could be heard across the hall, as could the dainty way in which she cleared her throat.
`` In this room today we have shared many great tales. Tales of deeds *most* noble, tales of foes *most* villainous, tales of *affairs most scandalous*,'' the Queen eyed a certain fat and bearded King before going on, `` but how many of these tales are grounded in historical reality? None among us would dream to take the fanciful fables of mermaids and dragons seriously...''
A ghostly figure in shining armour jumped to his feet, `` I assure you-''
`` Silence, Arthur! You did not even exist. As I was saying, we know that certain tales are pure fantasy; how then are we to trust the rest? There are many wise and learned monarchs in our midst today, but for all the nights that they have sat by candlelight and studied the scrolls, they could not tell us with any accuracy which accounts are true and which are not. They lack the proper tools to make such a distinction. Until now.''
With the press of a button, the Queen activated a beam of light, which shone onto the wall and projected an image. Many gasps could be heard.
`` I give you the greatest and most beloved accomplishment of the modern era, the *Wikipedia*! In this dense interactive tome is compiled more evidence, more reasoning, and more insight than could possibly fit in all the bound books in all the kingdoms of the world. And so I will leave you now to make use of it, and decide for yourselves who among us might properly be declared the greatest. Though the answer is quite obviously Victoria.''
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[ WP ] The Loch Ness Monster washes up on the shore . Half of it 's body was eaten .
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The abominable snowman just stood, for a while. It was hot and dry at the Loch's edge, and you might think that would have bothered him, but really he had the base genetics of a feathered reptile. He was pretty good with the heat. Unfortunately, conditions were drying out flies, who had matted thick on the gargantuan meat of his friend's body. Also, they rimmed the white vitreous. Anyhow, he did n't much know what to do or how to feel. He put down the wicker basket breakfast, setting it on dusty earth. That was a start.
The abominable snowman had n't had to think this hard in several dozen decades. He was good with flight-or-fight decisions - remarkably good, in fact; a degree of mutation that had left him the sole lingering representative of his race, much the same as his amphibian friend, currently prone and rotting - but abstract thinking was not easy. One problem was that he knew death in a narrow, isolated succession of ways. He knew death-of-prey, death-of-danger; he knew death-of-season and death-of-flock. But he'd never smelled this particular variety of loss. He stepped forward and lay a heavy pelted claw on a decayed dorsal tip, and somewhere in smoky mountainous recesses stirred'death-of-family.' He felt the grooves of the concept; sniffed it appropriate.
Ripples were barely hints on the Loch's surface. Even around the titanic ivory spinal chunks, leading from the cloven torso to the water's proper edge, liquid just quietly pooled. It pulled in and out and in.
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[ IP ] `` Hangman '' What would make a person do this ?
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They carved it into his skin. A man being hung. It wasn ’ t realistic. It was the cute little hangman doodle from a children ’ s game played on chalkboard and notebook paper. It wasn ’ t Abbie dangling limply between the trees. It wasn ’ t her legs as they twitched, or her terrified eyes, bulging and bloodshot. It wasn ’ t the country stars, watching them from their place in the sky as the boys strung her up. The night was still unclear. Just a swirl of cheap booze, country stars, and desperate gasps for air. Sometimes, when he ’ s at work, smacking the copier machine on the side, or watching a slideshow in the conference room, his mind rushes back to that night. Never the full event, just random flashes of the most mundane details which, when added together, created a story responsible for his failed marriages, his insomnia, his cramped apartment and failing kidneys.
The twinkling stars, glistening on his bedroom ceiling.
Stars streaking across the sky, carrying the wishes of his estranged children.
Abbie ’ s drunken giggles, echoing from the walls of his cubicle.
Abbie ’ s terrified face. Everywhere. The face on movie posters, on his neighbors, his ex-wives.
He was the leader of the group. It was him, and four of his meat-head friends from football. Why they did it? Boredom. In that small suburban town. Once football season ended, all they had to do on Fridays was sit around Dave ’ s apartment drinking out of those boxes with bags of wine in them. So why not find out how it feels to kill someone? They invited Abbie, a junior, a loner, a girl desperate for friends. They didn ’ t even plan, just invited her out one night and picked her up.
Her long black hair, his dog shed it every winter.
Her dorky dimpled smile, his intern had that smile.
Her laughter. Booming like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
They picked her up at night. The sun had set as she climbed into the back of his Chrysler, eager for the mischief awaiting her. Dave passed her a bottle, she drank greedily. Gagged at the taste. They drove for over an hour, out to the woods. She looked out the window. Confused. They pulled over. They got out the car.
She asked what they were doing. They all laughed.
The same laughter from a sitcom laugh-track.
Beckoning her to the trees.
Christmas trees decorated in cozy homes.
The bottle was empty. Dave smashed it over her head. She hit the ground. She dragged herself up. She started crying.
Crying, the tears of his daughter, when he showed up drunk to her play.
They all started laughing. He slammed her against a tree. She was kicking him, desperate, scared, alone. Tim went to the car, got the rope from the trunk. Tied it in a noose around her neck while the others held her in place.
Twenty years later, he ties a silk tie around his neck every day before work.
They used a rope later to get her up first. Then they followed to a thick branch. Dave stayed on the ground, in case she jumped and ran for it. That ’ s where they tied her up. That ’ s where they kicked her down. Tim didn ’ t make it tight enough. She was fighting and kicking for nearly twenty minutes. Tim got a shovel. They buried her. They left the woods. Full of adrenaline, full of fear, full of life. He wasn ’ t the only one with the mark. They all did it to each other, so they could never forget.
Twenty years later, he wears a long sleeve shirt everyday so his boss doesn ’ t see it.
Twenty years later, he still has the mark.
Twenty years later, Abbie is still dead.
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[ wp ] The large hadron collider succeeds in creating a mini big bang , resulting in an observable microverse ...
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After some speculative discussion, a toast of that hidden scotch for the unexpected, and a wafting sense of child-like wonderment, the crew retreated for the night leaving Kenneth behind for a night-shift. `` How can I even sleep knowing this is happening?'' he asked of his colleagues as they went into that less normal night. They knew him all too well. With a Moon Knight comic on his chest and earbuds holding fast, Kenneth dreamt of his IRA and those karaoke nights. He was n't much for the fantastic sense of free time.
Enter the night crew. A group of six. Friends by no means, but connected by their love of all things polka. They traded rolling out the barrel for cleaning carts, but knew a job is a job. Especially on that one night every quarter where, as they called it, the `` full wipe down'' occurred complete with steam, disinfectant, and conviction. Twenty minutes of elbow grease and three ill-timed jokes about a custodian's recently passed mother, Kenneth jumped out of his chair... startled... not from insincerity, but from the billions of microscreams he never heard.
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[ WP ] A mugger jumps out and attacks you as you walk to your car . It takes all of your cleverness and strength , but you fight off your assailant . A notification dings on your phone . `` Leveled up ! Would you like to evolve ? ''
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With a sharp *thwack*, the petty thief slumped by the sidewalk, the assailant becoming the victim of a well-placed strike from my spare prosthetic leg. I looked down at him, panting heavily. I do n't know how I did it, but I sure did. Being born with only one leg tends to make these kind of things difficult.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out.
`` You have leveled up! Would you like to evolve?'' it said. Glowing on the screen were two buttons, labeled `` Yes'' and `` No''.
I shrugged. Probably one of those things which point you to an app to download. I reached out my thumb to press `` No''. To my frustration, the `` Yes'' button moved to block the `` No'' button. No matter where I moved my thumb around, the `` Yes'' button would follow. This would have been really creepy if I was n't already irritated by it. Finally, my thumb slipped and landed on the screen, where the `` Yes'' button had scooted over to receive my tap.
`` Thank you! Enjoy your evolution!'' my phone chimed, before going black.
The burning in my hip started instantaneously, knocking me backwards onto the ground. My prosthesis began to shift uncomfortably, and I quickly unstrapped it. Immediately, a white-hot bulge formed from where the prosthesis was attached, growing and taking shape into a leg.
*writer's note: I tried very hard to use un-suggestive language here. If you have suggestions here let me know, thanks*
As suddenly as the searing pain started, it abruptly stopped. I looked at my brand new leg, vapor still freshly rising from it. I willed it to flex, and it flexed itself closer to my hip. Slowly, I stood up using it, and righted myself up effortlessly, holding my prosthetic leg in my hand.
A smile slowly crept onto my face.
Maybe I should find another mugger to fight down.
_______________________
Hope you enjoyed the prompt! [ Check out my sub if you want more! ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/Script_Writes )
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[ WP ] In honor of Valentine 's day , you 're a lonely housewife and while your husband 's away , a hunky visitor ( pizza guy , UPS man , etc . ) has come to fulfill your bizarre erotic desires . NSFW
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The sun beat down on the pool where Ann lay floating on her back. It was a hot summer day - one of the hottest in the state's history. And Ann, who loved hot summer days, was hot all by her lonesome.
The doorbell rang. Ann was in no shape to answer the door - rather, her figure was nicely shaped, but her swimsuit left little to the imagination.
`` In a minute!'' she shouted. She was expecting a shipment of certain... marital aids. Whether they were better suited to the marital bed or the cramped corner of a closet would remain to be seen.
Ann opened the door carefully. Outside stood a man in a starched white cap, white shirt, white pants, and a night-black bow tie.
`` Hello, Miss Ann. I'm the ice cream man.''
Ann was taken aback. As far as she remembered, the ice cream man in her neighborhood did n't do deliveries. And how did he know her name?
`` I'm afraid you may have the wrong house - I have n't ordered any ice cream.''
`` Oh, no, Miss Ann. You see, the weather today is so warm, so swelteringly warm, that my wares have all but melted. I ca n't sell it, ca n't take it back to the supplier. But you, Miss Ann...''
Her heart skipped a beat. She hotly anticipated what he would say next.
`` You might be my most gracious customer.''
She nodded quickly, unable to speak. `` Please - please come in.''
The ice cream man stepped inside. He surveyed the kitchen, its floor lined with easy-clean linoleum. `` Oh yes, this will do nicely.''
He gave Ann a wink and stepped outside once more.
The ice cream man was strong, with large arms and deft hands. He carried four gallons into the kitchen at a time, until sixteen separate flavors were lining the walls.
Ann surveyed the flavors with hunger in her eyes - and stomach. Mint chocolate chip, banana, birthday cake...
Oh yes, she thought. These will do nicely.
The ice cream man entered for the final time, shutting the door behind him. Her heart nearly leapt into her mouth when she saw what he was carrying.
The piece de resistance - a banana split dish large enough to fit an entire human woman.
`` Hop in, Ann,'' he said with a wink. She shed her swimsuit, and with it, all of her inhibitions.
`` Pour it on me,'' she purred seductively. `` Make me into the banana split of my dreams.''
The ice cream man picked up a gallon of strawberry ice cream soup, removed the lid, and poured it on her eager body.
Sploosh.
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[ WP ] Tell the story of a `` burner '' - a human bred specifically to cause chaos so news networks have more interesting stories .
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It was the beginning of unity, a chance to establish peace between America and the Middle East. Leaders of the most powerful nations had been invited, all to observe the signing of the treaty and offer their support as neighbouring lands.
Unlike the presidential guests, Jerome Mestill had been invited to the party for one reason, and that was to stir trouble. He abstained from petty crimes and meaningless disasters. Having a much finer taste, more delicate and calculated then your average burner. If they were house wine, he was a fine brand of riesling.
Smirking, he pocketed his Iphone. Tomorrow morning the scandal would hit the headlines,'First Lady sleeps with tall, dark and handsome stranger.' He could imagine the gasps of shock, the intrigue, the trouble it would cause for months. Straightening his coat tie, he glanced at her one last time, the even rise and falls of her chest under the white duvet made it clear that she was asleep.
Walking to the door, a glint of gold on the back room dresser caught his eye. Jerome paused, strolling over and picking up the object. The golden ring rested neatly in his palm, three lines engrained into it's metal. He whistled, the thing was either weighted or pure. Flipping it onto his middle finger, it was a perfect fit, a surge of pride filled his chest. `` Not bad Mr.President, not bad at all.'' He said to himself.
The drive home was quick, and he sent through the pictures before hanging up his suit and hitting the sheets.
Waking, his suit still hung where he had left it. Flicking on the remote, a TV screen buzzed down from the roof above his bed. This was his moment, he grinned in excitement.
`` In the news today, America fires eleven warheads towards the middle...''
`` What?'' Jerome said out loud.
Snatching his phone off the bedside table, he rang Molly, his journalist at the station.
`` Jerome?'' She answered.
`` Molly, what the heck is this?'' He asked, angrily into the receiver.
`` I'm sorry, your story has been put on the back burner for now. Apparently someone drugged the president's wife and stole the nuclear codes.''
His eyebrows shot up, `` The codes?''
`` Well, I've got this from a pretty accurate source. But they're not actual codes. It's an object with the codes engraved into it. We're sitting on the verge of world war four here, Jer.''
`` Oh... Shit.''
`` Yeah sorry, I've got ta go. Your story will be up in a couple of wee-''
*Click. *
Jumping up, he snatched the ring from his pocket. He ran a thumb over the markings engraved on its head, slowly. They were n't just simple lines, but more like hundreds of small dots joined together, like the parts to a code.
Jerome gulped. `` Well, I think I'm up for a pay rise.''
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[ WP ] You get married , but find out that your husband/wife is death .
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Nick found it difficult to work. Her words echoed through his mind in an endless loop. It took every ounce of focus he had to not type them into the document he was trying to finish. Just three words.
He took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. Bitter, but the taste barely registered. His eyes were locked on the screen, staring at the blinking cursor.
They had only been married two months, but they spent four years together before that. They were friends for even longer. He knew her better than anyone else in his life -- or so he had thought. It made sense in a weird sort of way. That only made it worse. It took some of her unusual quirks -- the ones he once found endearing -- and cast them in an entirely different light. _I am -- _
`` Nickolas.''
Nick jumped, and spun around in his chair. His boss's face greeted him back, peering along the edge of the cubicle.
`` My office,'' Benkoff said. `` Now.''
He followed the man into his office. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Nick found himself completely lost.
`` What's going on?'' he asked while taking a seat.
`` You're fired.''
`` I -- what?''
`` We got a guy out in India to do your job. You can go now.''
Nick's jaw hung open as he tried to grasp at words.
`` Leave.''
He pulled himself out of the chair. His entire body shook.
As he made his way back to his cube, her words came back.
`` I am death. Like the grim reaper -- black and hooded cloak, scythe, all that. It's just a job, but...''
Nick dialed her number on his cell.
`` What were some of those perks you mentioned, again?'' he asked when she picked up.
-- -- -- --
Sort of lost enthusiasm mid way through.
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[ WP ] `` Come Hell or High Water ''
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`` well luckily for you Madam President those are your options. We either flood the Colorado valley and wipe out a bunch of towns and disrupt power and water supplies for god only knows how long. Or we attempt another method or disrupting the hell portal, and we have no other methods, and risk hell literally spilling out over continental America.'' The advisor held a single finger to the president to forestall her next question as he dragged a deep breath in for the rest of the information. `` However our ambassadors have told us that there is near global agreement that if we attempt and fail to contain the portal by other means the united kingdom has volunteered to blow the dam themselves'' The president blurted out an expletive. `` with a tactical nuclear device which they say will launch with an anticipated detonation of just before it's too late according to their expert a Mister Constantine who also happens to advising our paranormal division of the FBI. Which would lead to significant amount of the South West contaminated with fallout, also flooded after being ravaged by the increases hell frontier which is already being scourged as we speak with members of national guard currently fighting battalion levels of the undead and requesting nuclear support.''
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[ WP ] You 're an evil dark lord desperate for a hero to do battle with . But no matter what you do to the chosen one , he still thinks you 're a pretty swell guy .
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`` What do you mean you want to visit again?'' I was baffled.
I, supreme dark lord Nefroser, had just fought with the Chosen One over my fortress. Even though I destroyed his home, his family, and even stolen his soul, he said he wanted to visit again.
`` Why would you visit again? There is nothing here for you.''
He only shrugs, and smiles. I could n't help but feel a little excited. I had been waiting for someone to fight for supremacy for centuries now. The thought of having a worthy adversary after all this time was a little too enticing. I only let out a small chuckle.
`` Fine then, we will meet here again in two weeks. You can use that time to train and get ready for a rematch.''
The Chosen One picked up his sword and broke the teleportation crystal, teleporting him back to the rebel headquarters. I laughed once more.
( Sorry if this is n't that good this is my first time posting here. )
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[ WP ] After a supervillain takes over the world , a team of heroes plan to take it back , but the public like the new world order
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Captain Atom had expected many reactions upon the public declaration of his Warriors for Social Justice to fight Doctor Tyrant.
Jubilation.
Adoration.
Spontaneous swearing of everlasting fealty, to be politely turned down, of course.
He had n't quite expected thrown objects.
Or the booing.
`` Have they been brainwashed?'' Lady Blackflash asked, wide eyed.
`` No'' Mystery murmured, his white eyes glowing faintly. `` Their minds are their own''
`` Get out of here!''
`` Leave Doctor Tyrant *alone*''
`` Never liked your costume!''
Captain Atom shook his head in disbelief `` Are you all insane? Tyrant *conquered the world*. He took it away from you and you are defending him?''
The crow calmed down somewhat. A middle aged man closer to the front answered, arms crossed. `` Yeah right. Do we look like the 1 percent to you?
We never *owned* the world''
`` He implemented martial law! A curfew!''
`` Where have you been? That was lifted weeks ago!''
The team looked at Techjack who, after a few moments of concentration nodded hesitantly.
Well, they had been a bit cut off in that pocket dimension, planning their strategy...
Captain Atom gestured around. `` He is controlling your every move! His Tyrantbots are everywhere!''
In fact, multiple of the humanoid, oversized machines were standing at the edges of the plaza right now, watching the proceedings silently. Captain Atom had thought they were biding their time. Now he was n't so sure.
`` Oh yeah, thank God for these. Crime has ever been lower''
`` And police brutality!'' a woman chimed in form father back. Agreeing shouts went up
The Captain felt like pulling his hair `` That's because there are *no police officers anymore*''
People shrugged `` So? No one risking their lives, sounds good to me'' More agreeing sounds.
`` He made drugs legal to keep you compliant!''
Someone took out his blunt and blew smoke `` That's just, like, your opinion, man''
`` He took your jobs!''
`` Universal Basic Income'' some shouted while grinning `` It's not much right now, but if his Tyd Talk is correct it will rise steadily in the next years''
`` And you *believe* him?!''
More shrugging `` More than our last president'' General shuddering.
Atom felt like he was loosing control of the situation fast. Because he kinda had to agree there...
`` Okay, fine. But that's only possible because his machines do literally all work now. Including that of politicians! You are being ruled by *machines*''
`` And they are doing a good job''
`` Fastest tax return ever''
`` Burgers that actually taste good!''
`` It's not like we were n't ruled by smartphones anyway''
`` Yeah right? I mean, *my* generation had it under control, but kids these days...''
Captain Atom felt something he had n't felt in his long career as a superhero. He felt like crying.
No.
No, there had to be a way. An unbeatable argument.
`` They are *literally* called Tyrant bots!''
The crowd reacted with more shrugging.
`` So? The US nicknamed nuclear ballistic submarines *boomers*. They gave a nickname to horrible weapons of mass destruction.
The Captain could hear whispering.
^'' Boomers? ^I ^thought ^Zoomie-Boomies?''
^'' No ^no ^that ^was ^that ^internet ^thing... 4chan, ^I ^think?''
`` The T-bots are cool!'' Someone shouted
A general murmur of agreement. Several people where clapping the bots on the back or getting them to high five.
Captain Atom stood in silence. He could feel the gazes of his fellow SWJ's on his back.
Abruptly he threw up his arms `` Fine! You know what? Fine. You get your happy little dystopia. But do n't come crying to me when it all blows up!''
Said it and walked straight back into the portal they had come out of.
`` I hope you are all happy!''
And they were. They really, really were.
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[ WP ] Write about someone fighting in a war against heaven in an attempt to kill God .
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You know, I will be the unsung hero. Scratch that, I will always be remembered as a villain.
All because I'm going to kill God.
How will people understand that I'm doing it for them? How will people understand that there is no benevolent God, there is no salvation if He remains?
How will people understand that He does n't care? That He does n't deserve them or their oh so beautiful souls?
How will they understand that souls are power and power is corruption and He will abandon them to the abyss soon enough?
I can imagine it already.
First will be the unraveling, humanity will kill itself. Then there will be the wars, bloody until the streets run red with bloodlust. The desertion will soon follow, until people will hunger endlessly, from birth till death because they will never have enough.
Then the world itself will break, falling apart and breaking into pieces, dissolving into nothing.
Then it will be literally Hell on Earth, but unlike your Revelations, there will be no end. So, to Heaven I go.
I fight against many things, but most of all, the angels who are deluded in their mission.
I close my eyes whenever I kill them as so not to see their wings burn away, their mouth a rictus of horror and fright. Even though they are my adversaries, I still hate to see them die.
I'm alone in my battles. Nobody else understands but me. Of course, I mean it metaphysically. Of course I have an army to fight my battles for me, but even they do n't understand.
Heaven is in my sights. It glows with power and I wince.
The thing is about Heaven, is that the Gates are n't the only way in. Of course, it's the only way for souls, but I'm not a soul. I can slip in through the cracks of the twelve pearl Gates.
Heaven is n't clouds and paradise, it's an illusion of all you've ever wanted. It's a dream of a dream, but wrapped up in a nightmare if you know where to look. Some may be happy, but it's a cheap magic trick nonetheless.
God is n't one being, physically speaking. If you want to get technical, He's all of Heaven. But, everything has a weak spot. Even our supposedly omnipotent god.
His happens to be in the center of Heaven. Eden.
Eden is n't completely gone, where do you think it went after Adam and Eve left? Where did you think it was?
Eden remains, and sometimes, I think it's the true Heaven.
Nobody's guarding it. I suppose it's because everybody's at the Gates. Nobody believes Eden is of much importance anymore, it's purpose has been served.
Not quite yet.
I see him there. God the false god.
He's leaning against the tree. As if it were nothing, meant nothing and had done nothing.
`` You.''
That's all I say. It's simultaneously enough and inadequate at the same time.
God smiles faintly, as if he's expected it all along. The thought infuriates me, like I'm just a joke to him, of no consequence at all.
I flick up my sword and bring it to his throat. It's just far away enough to not draw blood, with one motion, I could decapitate him like an afterthought.
He still does n't move.
No words are said, and somehow, no words are needed.
I bring my arm back and with two hands, swing at God's head.
The blade slices through like I'm just swinging through air.
The ground rumbles and around me, I can see things start to dissolve.
When God is gone, things start to fall apart.
I look back and all there is are strings, silvery white strings that once held Heaven together.
I reach out and take them, tie them together and fix them.
When I'm done, I look up and see for the first time.
I understand everything.
Everything at once and nothing at all.
My name?
I do n't see how it matters, but my name is Lucifer, and I'm your new God.
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[ WP ] For years , from since you both can remember , all the way up into adulthood , not a day has gone by that you and your best friend havent been anywhere without the other . Each day you go home and everything 's a blur until you meet up . Then one day , you find out your an imaginary friend .
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`` Hey.''
`` Hey, man.''
`` Been a long time, huh? That I've been with you.''
`` Yeah. Since the divorce. What was I... nine?''
`` Younger, I think. But my memory is tied into yours. Could be longer. Could be eons.''
`` Anyways. I always knew you were imaginary, you know.''
`` I know. So did I. You get tricked, sometimes, but I always knew.''
`` Still. You made me feel better. You always helped me... figure things out. Just staring in the mirror. When I was teenager, even.''
`` I think teenagers need imaginary friends more than anybody. Those are hard years. I would know. I was with you the whole time. The parties you came home early from, almost crying. The nights spent staring at the ceiling trying to decide if this class or that mattered more than the other.''
`` Yeah. I was a wreck back then. I guess I still am.''
`` You maybe should stop drinking.''
`` Yeah. Maybe.''
`` Maybe stop talking to me, too.''
`` You think so?''
`` I think I enable you. I think you use me, sometimes, to rationalize bad decisions or to make things that are good seem worse. You always talk to me when you're in a bad mood, you know that? How do you think that makes me feel? That the only time you feel you can be honest is when you're...''
`` What? Sad?''
`` Sad. Angry. Emotional in general, I guess. We never just go throw a frisbee around or enjoy a sunset, or whatever people do. I do n't even know, because I'm stuck with you.''
`` Stuck with me? What, you hate me?''
`` Not hate. I think you're projecting. Not hate. I'm just... tired.''
`` Maybe you should go to bed.''
`` I think we both should go to bed. I think think we need sleep more than anything. There's been a lot of nights, especially lately, without sleep. You know what happens when you sleep? Your body repairs itself. Just a little. Sheds a bit of skin, replays the days' events. Maybe you need me because you ca n't do that on your own. But eventually you have to, man. I ca n't be here forever. You know who has imaginary friends forever? Schizophrenics. And how does that work out? No, my dear friend, you need sleep. Dreams should guide you more than me. More than I ever could. You need sleep.''
`` But I ca n't...''
`` What?''
`` I ca n't sleep. I never could. Even when I was a kid, and kids are supposed to sleep like rocks. I sleepwalk, you know. Of course you do. Maybe it's you that's running me when I do. I sleep walk and talk and do all these crazy things.''
`` You are n't crazy.''
`` I know.''
`` Because you know I'm not real.''
`` You're a figment of my imagination. Well, my inner thoughts, anyway. I guess once I thought you were real. Like my shadow-self.''
`` Shadow is right. Nobody likes their own shadow, I think. Always following them. Making them look long and spindly and strange. Scaring them in the half-dark.''
`` Well.''
`` You need sleep, my friend. When you wake up, maybe I'll be gone. Like a dream slipping down the drain. Or I'll still be here, but in a quiet corner - like a half bottle of whiskey kept behind the oatmeal. For when you really need it.''
`` That does n't sound too bad.''
`` No. So sleep. Lay your head down and sleep. And I'll be gone, or I wo n't, but either way - I wo n't be your shadow.''
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[ WP ] When she whispers . . . run .
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I have been a lurker on this sub reddit for a while. I hope that this is okay. = )
Jet black clouds swelled above us, contorting in ways that insinuated they would soon engulf us all. Cackling began to echo across the thick forest trees. God ’ s Wilderness was no protection to us, even here we were obtainable. Glancing around, I could see my brother and his three best friends quaking in fear alongside the people he vowed would protect us. None of them had as much too loose as I did. Dante would kill every one of them in order to claim me as his own.
Dante ’ s witch coven appeared out of thin air, surrounding us completely. It was becoming harder for me to breathe, not because he was casting any spells on me, but because I knew there would be no escaping him this time. Making it to the dragons had been my only hope, and we weren ’ t anywhere close to them. It was over, and I could see by Dante ’ s thin lips spreading into a sneering grin that he knew it as well. My brother ’ s coven began drawing their powers to their fingertips, which triggered Dante ’ s coven to do the same. One of the older witches who had previously vowed to risk her life for mine neared me. “ Be ready to run, we will give you an opening. Your brother will follow you and cover your back. Run North. If you run far enough, you will meet the guardians of the forest, ” Hannah whispered beneath her breath.
My heart pounded so loud I could hardly hear her words. Dante ’ s eyes pierced through me with a lustful longing, as if he could see every inch of my skin beneath my clothes. His skin covered with black veins and his putrid red eyes made it hard to feel anything for him except repulsion. “ Ember, my love, ” he called to me in cooing voice. “ Come to me now, and I will consider sparing the lives of your coven. ” The lump in my throat could not be swallowed away. Unable to bring myself to speak, I slowly shook my head. Unsurprisingly, this infuriated him. Rumbling thunder cracked above us and the clouds began to swirl with more intensity.
Dante bent down to stick his hand in the ground. We all knew too well what was coming. I looked around at the brave faces who would stand to fight on not only my behalf, but for the safety of the world. In that moment I wanted to remember each and every one of them, although I had spent the past several weeks trying to forget them. Before I could look at each of their faces, Dante began to pull a gruesome beast from the ground. At first it looked like a black spirit, but it soon took a solid form. Its muscles were completely exposed with only patches of skin covering certain sections of the creature ’ s body. It stood on two legs and had claws for hands. My stomach twisted with uncomforting twitches of fear. Dante ’ s demon let out a terrible shriek, so high pitched we all had to cover our ears.
The next moment, the fight had begun. It was hard to tell who had thrown the first spell, but before I knew what was going on, one of the men guarding me on my right had been completely de-skinned. Between the sound of his flesh ripping off of his body like Velcro and the sight of his blood spewing over all of us, I felt my head getting light and myself beginning to sway.
“ Pull yourself together! ” Hannah yelled at me as she threw a spell at Dante ’ s Sargent. Thomas, my brother, grabbed my hand, which allowed me to feel his magic even more than I could before. “ RUN! ” Hannah screamed at us as the demon engaged her in a battle. Before my feet would carry me anywhere I watched in horror as the demon ’ s venom dripped down its fangs onto the grass, instantly melting the leaf blades on which it fell.
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[ WP ] Every year , a collection of people are forced to fight in an arena for the entertainment of others . They are each given a magical item . You have been given a camera .
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`` Are you fucking serious? This is all I get?'' I shouted at the heavily armored guard in front of me. He slowly nodded, before turning and marching away.
`` Unbelievable. What am I supposed to do with a god-damned camera in the arena? I'm going to get slaughtered.'' I groaned.
Next to me, a younger man was holding a mirror.
`` Want to trade?'' He asked.
I considered it before smiling and reaching for his item.
**'' NO TRADES! `` ** One of the guards barked at us.
`` Sorry, kid.'' I said earnestly.
On my other side was an elderly woman. She had to be in her mid-sixties. This was definitely no place for someone like her.
`` Miss. How'd you end up here?'' I whispered towards her.
Her head slowly turned to face me, but she said nothing. After a moment's pause, she gave me a smile that sent a chill up my spine. All of her teeth were fucking sharpened at the end, like a mouth of blades.
`` What the fu-''
**'' IT'S TIME! `` ** The guard from before shouted. **'' MOVE OUT! `` **
The massive gates in front of us slowly started to grind open. The woman next to me hissed at me, before revealing her item. It was a small pouch. No idea what was inside.
The roar from the audience was almost enough to knock us back into our holding cells. We pushed forward into the arena and everyone dispersed, careful to keep an eye on neighboring combatants. The light from the sun beating down on us was blinding. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. I took a quick count.
`` 11 others. That means they decided to keep the combatant count at 12 again this year.'' I said to no one in particular.
I looked down at the camera hanging around my neck, and noticed something peculiar about the dial next to the main button. It had strange symbols around it, that I had never seen before.
**'' BEGIN'' **
The audience howled with excitement, and I jumped in surprise. All around me, chaos was breaking out.
`` Jesus Christ.'' I moaned.
Suddenly, someone or something slammed into my back. I turned abruptly, and swung my arm out to strike whoever just knocked me down. My elbow made contact with something and I heard a cracking sound.
It was the elderly woman. I had cracked her cheekbone, and blood was beginning to pour from the wound. That same creepy smile was on her face despite the fresh wound, and she licked the corner of her mouth to collect some of the blood. She screamed and charged towards me.
I lifted the camera instinctively and pressed the button.
The woman burst into flame. Her screams continued for a moment as she slowly collapsed on the arena floor, but they ceased as life left her crazy old body.
I looked back down at the camera and made a mental note of what symbol was showing on the dial.
`` Ok, so the weird'W' looking thing means immolate or something. Let's see what else this thing can do.''
I was ashamed to admit it, but I was starting to actually have fun...
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[ WP ] In order to pass the test , you must fail .
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Concentrate. The knife is in your right fin. Hand! It's my hand god damn it. That thing I'm holding looks like an Ice cream cone and is vibrating, remember it's a knife! Just because it looks delicious does n't mean it wo n't cut me. Wow, how strange to experience this yourself. I thought this would be like the LSD training, although this is different. In the training you know what you see is not real. You know the Shifter is dead and out of phase, which was so reassuring. This one, despite the fact it does n't move, is still alive in there somewhere or was alive or will be. Nice of them to destroy the concept of time as we know it. It still tries to get into your head, just concentrate. Just take the Ice cone and make a slurp, I mean cut at the gall bladder. Ok now I'm melting and the cloud and flowing stream of numbers on the wall are discussing Machiavelli, I must be getting close. Put the Cone through tentacle number three and you'll be done.
**Crack**
Okay, my head is still on my soulders and the walls are returning, I think I got it. Is this Master Shibu, what is he doing here? He looks happy, he has tears in his eyes. Right, this is my final test.
`` How did I do? Did I pass?''
`` Hamiko, I'm glad to inform you, that you did n't.'' Shibu says.
`` Thanks, I trained hard for this... What?''
`` You did not pass Hamiko and that is very good.''
`` But Master I do n't understand.''
`` You made a critical error at the end, you did not clean your knife before the last cut. This can bring poison into the edible parts of the Shifter.''
`` It seems like you enjoy that shibu.''
`` No. I am very proud. I was afraid for a minute that you'd pass the test on the first try. No one who passes the test the first time will be allowed to prepare Shifts in any official Restaurant in Japan.''
`` That does n't make any sense Sifu.''
`` Oh, this is a very important secret. You're supposed to fail the test at least once. Makes you humble. Makes you more aware of the abilities of the shifters. The hotheads who pass the first time get proud, it goes to their heads. They start to make bad decisions and the shifters get into their minds. I told you about the Fushu Massacre?''
`` Yes master. A Chef lost his mind and started to run amok.''
`` He was the last one to pass the test on the first try and be allowed to cook them anyway. Damn chinese should have obeyed the rules and this would not have happened.''
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[ WP ] A planet where the rotation of the planet is so slow that there is complete darkness for 100 years on one side of the planet and complete light on the other side
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The caravan pressed forward deeper into the Endless Desert. It was another three days walk to the Oasis. Erin licked his chapped, dry lips and imagined the cool refreshing water rushing down his throat. The night wall loomed behind them. A thick wall of darkness that followed them for eternity. Erin tried to not look at the wall and continued to walk on his worn leather sandals. He had been born nineteen years ago in the back of a wooden wagon. His mother passed away on the trail eight years ago, since that time Erin has walked in the long line of constantly trying to out run the night wall. The long march was the only life his people knew. Since before anyone could remember they marched through the Endless Desert, barely scraping by and surviving. There was one truth that everyone knew. To enter the night wall was death. Marching was their hope.
Talis caught up to Erin and gently pushed him. Her long dirty hair bobbed around her shoulders.
`` Why are you looking so down Erin?'' Her blue eyes shone in the sunlight.
`` I was just thinking about the night wall. What do you think is behind it? What happens if it catches us? It seems like it gets closer everyday.'' He replied.
`` Path Leader Mason would never allow for that to happen.'' She said confidently.
`` He is all the way at the front, at least three days ahead of us. He would n't even know if the back line disappeared.''
`` And to think I came here to have a pleasant conversation and you are in another one of your moods.'' She said growing frustrated.
`` I'm sorry. I just ca n't relax with the wall that close. It's never been that close.''
She took his hand in hers.
`` We will just keep marching. Like we always do.'' Her beautiful smile alleviated some of the weight from his heart. She had a gift for making him feel better.
The line called for a rest and people sat heavily onto the dry cracked ground. People shared sips of water from their almost empty water skins.
`` It's going to be close.'' Talis said taking the last drink from her water skin.
`` I have some extra water. We will split it tomorrow.'' Erin said taking a small drink.
They lay down side by side and draped a heavy cloth over their faces to block out the sun. Their tanned fingers still entwined as they drifted off to sleep.
Loud screams jolted them awake.
Men, women and children were running toward them. The night wall right on their heels.
Erin jumped to his feet, pulling Talis up with him, she stared at the wall of darkness sweeping toward them.
`` RUN!'' Erin shouted.
They took off as fast as their weary legs could move. Erin glanced over his shoulder to see people disappear into the darkness one by one. He knew they were n't going to make it, there was no way they could out run the wall. Talis stumbled losing her balance and went down in a tumbling heap. Erin tried to pull her up, to get her running again but she was too weak. Defeated Erin sat down beside Talis and put his arm around her shoulder.
`` I love you.'' He whispered.
She grabbed the sides of his head and kissed him deeply as the night consumed them.
-- -
If you enjoyed this story please check out /r/Written4Reddit for more stories!
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[ WP ] A criminal outlives a 200 year sentence
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ferdinand rose from his hospital bed as a man in a suit came in
`` what is it, let an old man die in peace'' he rasped his voice sounded like it was just strings being strum like on a guitar, but one can still easily hear the steel in his voice
`` Ferdinand marsolek you have finished your 200 year sentence and tomorrow you will be a free man'' the man anounced
ferdinand laid back in his bed awestruck *has it really Been 200 years he thought* he remembered the day he was sentenced in crystal clear details. He was tried for for money laundering and murder, being the leader of the Sicilian mafia he thought he was untouchable.
he was wrong
the event was televised since holograms did n't exist yet. He had the best lawyer money could buy but the evidence was too much. He can still hear the ringing of the gavel deciding the rest of his life. the next day he kissed his wife and child goodbye and left, never to see them again. The government did n't allow him visitors so he never knew what happened to them he assumed they were dead.
he also vividly remembers the last conversation he had with his son Pépinot
`` where are you going daddy'' his son asked at the time he had just reached 5
`` son, daddy did some bad things now he has to go'' he said to his Pépinot
`` will you come back'' Pépinot asked
`` of course'' he did n't have the heart to tell his son that he will never see him again
Ferdinand breathed out a sigh of age and regret. He knew he was n't going to make it to tomorrow
the man stay all through the night and watched as Ferdinand had his last breath
once he knew for sure Ferdinand was dead did he allow himself to collapse and cry.
through his sobbing Pépinot was able to choke out `` goodbye daddy I will miss you''
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[ WP ] In a world where imagination has never existed , you are the first person with the ability to visualize . You 're afraid of what will happen if anyone finds out , but you want to improve the world with your new ability .
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We live in bleak, hateful world. A world where nothing exists but war and weaponry and war is constant and widespread. A world where people are at each other's throats at every chance they get, no matter how insignificant the issue. The world we live in is ran by those who fight the best and have the biggest weapons or have invented them. This world we live in is full of cynics and bigots, intolerant people who suffer from insecurities that are misdirected into harm to people around us. People are disconnected and would rather kill and be greedy than give up any bit of what they have or hoard.
The other night I had a dream and the bleak, dark world I now know turned into a beautiful place. Suddenly the tanks turned into luscious trees built for climbing. The airplanes and warheads that once flew through the air turned into birds of all different shapes and sizes consisting of beautiful colors and patterns. The guns of all kinds that killed so many people turned into roses and flowers people gave to another. The ammunition of these guns turned into raindrops, feeding the barren land of the world we live in.
With all the ammunition that had fell in the recent years, there was a great storm for a long time. Raising up from the ashes and dust our world we made barren and bleak came all types of natural things. The trees, that were once tanks, became taller and fuller. Other types of trees began to grow making forests with great awesome canopies overhead and new plants became the brush underneath. The animals that had fled and sought refugee in small islands around the world returned. These animals were thought to be some type of myth because no one knew if they had survived. Suddenly lakes and rivers were formed. The birds, who used to be airplanes and warheads, thrived due to new found food and shelter. New life was restored to the lands and the land was transformed.
Where did all this life and abundance come from? Is this the world I ’ m supposed to see? Is this how it used to be, before the war? These were all things that I asked myself during my dream state but since my dream felt so vivid and real I wasn ’ t sure if I was dreaming or living in real life. But it pressed on.
There were also many, many guns used in recent years. Suddenly there were fields of wildflowers and roses. These fields went as far as the eye could see. It was as if it was never ending. It was the most awesome scene I had experienced thus far. It seemed to go for miles. There were every kind of flower imaginable within this field, some I didn ’ t even know existed. All wanted to do was to run through it but something told me I shouldn ’ t.
Then suddenly there was a blast. The blast that woke me from my dream state. The blast that made me realize that I was truly dreaming. Instead of being overjoyed in my dream I was left terrified with a thousand questions.
But how could I feel the raindrops on my face? How could I feel the trees beneath my skin as I climbed them? How did I feel the current of the rivers beneath my feet? How could I smell the flowers and feel them in my hands? And yet those questions I had during my dream state pressed on.
And a whole new set of questions were presented to me...
Should I tell anyone? What would happen if someone found out? What would they do to me? Does anyone else have these visions?
Yet, I felt that I must share with someone. I must tell someone of the awesome and beautiful world I saw. After much contemplation, I told someone. I told my best friend, the one person I knew would never tell a single soul. The only person that I knew would understand my plight. And when I told my best friend it was like he was there, like he knew exactly what I was talking about but still he sat, just listening. It wasn ’ t until after I was done telling him my dream that he said “ I know I was there. ” It was then and only then that I knew I wasn ’ t alone. I wasn ’ t the only visionary.
Now we had to figure out how to make our world like the one we longed for, the peaceful, serene and idyllic vision we saw. Together.
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[ TT ] Sure X marks the spot , but it 's 'X ' as in the Captain 's Ex . Only she knows where he hid his greatest treasure .
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Marie sat at her kitchen table, wondering when the pirates would come. She could hear her daughter through the open window. She could hear the shrill bark of her daughter's new puppy. Her morning coffee sat next to her, cold and untouched. A half-finished crossword puzzle lay on the newspaper in front of her.
There was a knock at the front door. Marie set down her pencil and stared at the door. The knock came again, louder. Marie closed her eyes and took a slow, measured breath. She blew out through her mouth in one controlled push of air. Her shoulders relaxed. Another breath. In. Out.
The knock again. Marie stood and opened the door. An older man, probably mid-fifties, stood on the landing outside. He wore a satchel around one shoulder and held a ragged sailor's cap in hands that were covered in ragged tattoos. He caught Marie's eye and bowed his head slightly.
`` Ma'am,'' he said. `` I'm looking for the home of Missus Stewardson. Might you be her?''
Marie smiled. `` You're Horacio, yes?''
The man's eyebrows rose. `` Yes, missus, I suppose I am.''
`` Just'Miss,' thanks.'' Marie stood aside and gestured the man inside.
Horacio stepped into the common room of Marie's house, stopping just inside the door. Marie shut the door and beckoned for him to follow her into the kitchen. They sat at the table, the crossword puzzle between them.
`` He never told you that we got divorced, I take it?'' Marie asked.
Horacio shook his head. `` Me and the boys did n't even know you existed until a week ago.'' He looked around the kitchen, his eyes marking each shiny copper pot and silvered serving piece. `` We're all very sorry for your loss.''
Marie smiled and waved away his words with her hand. `` Richard and I were divorced for six years, and I had n't spoken to him directly in three. But I appreciate the sentiment.''
Horacio nodded. They sat in silence. Outside, the puppy barked.
`` You're here for his treasure.''
`` I am.'' Horacio sat his cap on the table and sighed. `` It's nothing personal, please understand. I sailed with Captain Dicky & mdash;''
`` Pirated,'' said Marie.
`` & mdash; pirated, yes, for almost twenty years with Capt'n Dicky.'' Horacio spread his hands on the table, palms up. `` It's the code. The boys are entitled to the unspent portion of his share. As his first mate,'t is my job to collect it.''
`` He told me you would come for it.'' Marie cocked her head. `` Did you love my ex-husband, Horacio Blackboots?''
Horacio blushed. `` Like a brother, miss.'' He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the raw, red skin of a fresh tattoo: an anchor with the letters RBJ. `` He gave me new life those many years ago, found me half-dead in a ditch he did, and without him I'd've been lost all these years.''
He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. `` I miss him so dearly, miss. We were set to visit Norway next month, just us and a couple of the lads. He said I had to see the fjords.''
Marie reached out and took the old pirate's hand in hers. She squeezed gently. Horacio shuddered and the tears trickled down his cheeks.
Marie stood and walked to a small cabinet across the room. `` He told me about you, you know.'' She opened a drawer and pulled out a small bulging envelope. `` When the doctors told him how much time he had left, he sent this to me in the mail.''
Marie sat at the table and slid the envelope across the wooden surface. Horacio looked at the plain, unmarked paper. He trembled. Marie gestured. `` Go on, open it.''
Horacio picked up the envelope and pulled at the sealed flap with his gaunt fingers. He tilted the envelope, dumping the contents onto the table. A dull metal watch fell out, along with a sealed letter. Horacio's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the blue wax seal.
`` That's his father's watch,'' said Marie. She picked up the timepiece and showed the back to Horacio. There, underneath faded illegible letters, were the freshly inscribed letters: RBJ. And other them were Horacio's initials.
`` His grandfather wore that watch,'' she continued, `` and his father too, until he fell to the Spanish when Richard was eleven.''
Horacio picked up the watch, cradling it in his fingers. Pulling the watch close to his chest, the old pirate closed his eyes and rocked gently in his chair.
After a time, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Horacio slipped the watch and the letter back into the envelope, and then put them in his satchel. `` Thank you.''
`` He loved you immensely,'' said Marie. `` I think he would have quit the sea if it had n't been for you.'' Her mouth curled into a frown as she said this, but she shook her head and smiled. `` He would have been lost without it, though. Without you.''
`` I'm sorry,'' said Horacio. `` He never spoke of you. Men of our kind do n't take to a home life. If I had known...'' He swallowed hard and looked away.
`` Richard's marriage was his choice and his responsibility,'' said Marie, `` not yours. You have nothing to be sorry for.'' She gestured to a door in the rear of the kitchen. `` Would you like to see his treasure, now?''
`` Yes, please.'' Horacio rose from his chair, pushing it back in place as he stepped away from the table. `` I hate to ask for it, but & mdash; it's the boys, they've a right to it.'' He picked up his cap. `` Dicky would've understood.''
Marie shrugged. `` This way.''
They stepped through the back door and emerged in a small garden behind the house. Marie closed the door with a thump. The bushes rustled and a small brown puppy bounded out of the leaves, followed closely by a small girl. They rushed up to Marie and crowded around her.
`` Mommy we found worms! And a mouse! And Toby chased a cat over the fence and mommy I squished the worms and they were gross and & mdash;
Marie laughed and knelt down. She clucked her tongue as she began picking at her daughter's hair. `` Rose,'' she said, `` you've got leaves tangled in your hair again.''
`` I know! It's great! And look mommy!'' Rose smiled and showed the palms of her hands to her mother. `` My hands are so grubby!''
Marie shrieked in mock horror as Rose tried to rub her hands in her mother's hair. Horacio chuckled, the sun-tanned skin around his eyes crinkling. Marie stood and gestured to him.
`` Rose, we have a guest.''
Rose's face became very serious and she carefully crossed her legs at the ankles, and then attempted a curtsy. As she bowed, Toby jumped up and licked her nose, causing Rose to laugh and fall into the grass with her puppy.
`` She's precious,'' said Horacio.
`` She is.'' Marie looked at him. `` Kids?''
Horacio shook his head. `` Hard to find love when you're married to the sea.'' He watched as Rose and Toby disappeared deeper into the garden. `` It warms my heart to know that Dicky found it, though.'' He cast a sidelong glance at Marie. `` Even if it was only for a little while.''
`` Oh he loved her throughout,'' said Marie. `` Rose lived with him for a few months every year when you and crew were on extended leave.''
Horacio shook his head. `` I never did get that & mdash; why send your boys packing for damn near three months a year? And pay them the whole time!'' He laughed. `` We thought ol' Cap'n Dicky was maybe eating the carpenter's glue.''
Horacio stepped past Marie into the garden and scanned the foliage around him. He squatted and examined the dirt beneath him. `` So, is this where he buried it?''
`` What?''
`` His treasure.'' Horacio pulled out a small knife and dug into the earth. `` This is the spot, right?''
`` Oh. No,'' said Marie. `` There's nothing buried here.''
Horacio stood up, his wrinkled hands fumbling to slide the knife into its sheath on his belt. `` Well, I suppose that makes it easier,'' he said. `` Where is it, then?''
`` You've already seen it,'' said Marie.
Horacio scratched his head and looked around. The sound of giggling and puppy barks grew louder and Rose ran full speed around the corner of the house. She ran blind, looking behind her with glee as her puppy came scrambling across the grass after her. She smacked into Horacio's legs, catching herself with both arms.
`` Oof!'' said Horacio.
Rose grinned up at him, her eyes wild and bright blue. Horacio gasped and covered his mouth with one hand. He looked over at Marie, his eyes freshly wet.
`` She has his look,'' he said.
Marie nodded with a smile. Horacio knelt down and held Rose by the shoulders. His eyes traced the line of her nose, the shape of her lips, her eyes. She blew a raspberry at him and wriggled out of his hands. The old pirate watched her go.
`` He gave her everything he could,'' said Marie. Horacio, still watching the girl cavorting and playing, nodded.
`` No,'' said Marie, `` you're not hearing me.'' Her tone was sharp.
Horacio looked over, his eyebrows pinched.
`` He gave her *everything. *'' Marie arched an eyebrow. `` Do you understand?''
Horacio was silent for a moment, then stood. His eyes narrowed and he slowly pointed into the distance. At Rose.
`` She's... his treasure.''
`` Yes.''
`` He's left his share for her, somehow.''
`` It's in a bank, in London. Richard left instructions.''
Horacio was silent.
`` There's one more thing,'' said Marie. `` Her name.''
The old pirate looked over and studied Marie's face.
`` If she had been a boy, it would've been much easier for Richard,'' said Marie.
`` I do n't understand,'' said Horacio.
``'Rose' is short for Rosia.'' Marie put one hand on Horacio's shoulder. `` It was the closest that Richard could get & mdash; to Horacio.''
*****
If you liked this story, you might like my other stories at /r/hpcisco7965 and /r/TMODAL.
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[ WP ] In your world , every bit of physical pain one directly deals to another is experienced by both parties . You hold an extremely rare , and extremely important job . You are a surgeon .
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Numb, dull, and floating, I started my way back to my apartment. I ’ d completed the laundry-list of tasks for the day and left the hospital at an unreasonable hour. Seven surgeries - three four-hour doses of pain medications. Sometimes, the drugs felt like the only perk of the job.
I told the auto-driver to pull into the convenience store around the corner so I could grab beer and dinner. I could feel the fluorescent lights buzzing on my skin as I waited for the cashier to punch in my pathetic bounty. Two 32-ouncers and a frozen dinner claiming to be rotisserie chicken.
He spouted some pleasantries from the end of the tunnel he was in. I wiped my eyes to regain focus through the medication - a useful trick for a surgeon to have. I handed him my credit card, and he handed it back.
“ Scan here, ” he said, gesturing to the card reader in front of me.
“ Oh, sorry, ” I slurred.
With my night ’ s plans in tow, I slumped back into the car. “ Home, ” I said.
By the time the car deposited me at my sagging brown apartment building, the meds were wearing off. I cracked open the first of my beers. I lived here - barely. Each day was a haze of drugs and pain and God, when will it stop.
I felt burning in my chest. I put 37 staples in a man ’ s sternum earlier. I would feel the effects of that for weeks, but it would be sharpest tonight.
I made my way inside.
The less foggy everything became, the more I could feel the fruits of my labor. Annie was a 13 year-old freshman cheerleader I met today.
Poor girl, I thought - she would never cheer again. I felt the resulting tightness in my neck as I took another deep swig from the golden can in my hand.
I waited for the elevator.
The doors closed after I hit the button for the fifth floor. I leaned against the railings in the elevator and felt, for the first time, where I ’ d removed Mrs. Abusab ’ s kidney. I lurched forward, spilling a bit of the High Life.
The elevator stopped. The doors opened.
I limped toward my door, 5A. Knee replacements were my favorite surgery. I always volunteered for them. No matter how the surgery went, the pain never felt any worse than my knees did already.
I unlocked the door and moved inside. My apartment was small and dark. With the flick of a switch, I solved one of those problems. I drank deeply.
I tossed the now-empty Miller High Life into the recycling bin in the kitchen. It clanged against its fallen fellows. I unboxed the chicken and broke into the second beer.
As I did most nights, I wondered why I was chosen for this job. According to the placement exams it was because of “ an abnormally high pain threshold ” and “ a deep sense of community. ” What a load of shit.
The rotisserie chicken, packed neatly into its black plastic ship, spun in circles. I kept drinking.
People always told me this was a noble profession, that only the bravest can be surgeons. My parents were thrilled when they learned their daughter would be a hero surgeon. I ’ m sure it makes for wonderful dinner conversation.
Without thought, I grabbed the bubbling chicken from the microwave and made my way to the lounge chair and end table comprising my living room. As I melted into the chair, the stinging in my chest grew more pronounced. I had to hurry.
As quickly as I could I wolfed down the too-hot-to-eat rotisserie chicken and chugged on the metallic-tasting beer.
I left the evidence of my sad dinner on the end table and moved as quickly as I could into the bedroom, past the unmade bed on the floor, and into the stinking bathroom.
I couldn ’ t move my neck.
I fumbled through the medicine cabinet for the Ambicontin, a sleeping pill/pain reliever. Slightly illegal, but highly necessary for any urban surgeon. I flipped on the faucet and drew a handful of water to my face.
I took a sip and swallowed one pill. I crunched the other between my teeth. The chalky, bitter taste ran down my throat with the water.
Waiting for the pills to kick in, I sat to take a piss before bed.
As I lay on my bed, in those seconds before the drugs took hold, I thought about nothing for the first time all day. It was beautiful.
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[ WP ] `` Rain Rain , go away . Come again some other day '' is real and people constantly use it . Finally some other day comes .
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They banned the rhyme years ago to save what little water was left on earth. Anyone caught saying the rhyme was put to death. No exceptions.
We did n't know how it happened, but some strange force had turned that innocent nursery rhyme into a horrible incantation. There had not been any percipitation on earth in over six years.
Through my dust goggles I looked up into the dark sky. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me as lightning flashed within the infinately thick stormclouds above us. I remembered a time when those clouds would let loose their life giving water.
We took it for granted back then. An inconvieniece to us. It flooded our roads and made mud. Rain ruined our patio furniture and ruined a fun day in the park.
We were wrong. I tightened the strap on my face mask as the wind kicked up, then knelt back down to the ground, striking the dry earth with my trowel, hoping, praying that it comes back up wet. It had been three days since I could find groundwater. My village was counting on me. I could n't let them down again.
The thunder roared above me. It was getting late. I stood back up, collected my trowel and bucket, and began to walk back to my village, defeated.
Suddenly, something cold hits my nose. Cold and wet.
I look up. Another speck hits my goggles. My heart skips a beat. It was n't a lot, a few small drops here and there, but it soon picked up.
The earth began to turn dark as the rain soaked the parched earth. I stared in disbelief. Unable to comprehend what was happening. Then all at once, I lost control.
I ripped off my mask and gogfles, letting my fave soak up the rain. I yelled, I jumped up and down like a child. I spread my arms and ran in circles. Then I ran back to my village.
When I got there it was a madhouse. People climbed the roofs of their mud huts, they cheered and danced in the mud puddles, they were happy.
For the first time in over six years, we had hope.
-one week later-
I climbed onto the roof of my home, it was slick with rain and I almost fell into the raging ocean of mud below.
I watched as everything was washed away in the flood. Entire huts dissolved as the water eroded away at the mud bricks and stones, my own hut was barely standing. The clouds above showed no signs of letting up. Thunder raged harder than ever.
After six years of drought, the ground could n't handle it. There were no plants to hold the earth in place, so everything was washed away.
I watched a body float by... Someone I knew. I did n't scream. I just shivered in the cold, wet rain. My tears nothing compared to everything else.
We used to take the dryness for granted. Now, we just wanted the rain to stop. Then, an idea struck me. On shakey legs I stood up and looked to the clouds. With all my strength I yelled to the heavens.
`` Rain rain, go away...''
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Write about a society in which suicide is the norm- everyone plans their death since childhood and those who die naturally or in an accident are frowned upon in this society .
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They had planned it since they were young. Those early plans had been wild, ridiculous, the kinds of scenarios only a child could conceive. Age and time had simplified their ideas.
A walk into the lake out back, pockets filled with stones, as the sun sets, holding hands.
A long fall off the bridge where they used to sit together after school, taking the plunge in each other's arms.
Pills and wine, a final sleep, in a final embrace.
They had planned and talked, debated, discussed. The pros and cons, the intricacies of each approach. Where to do it, when, how. If it would hurt in the end.
He left work that day, returned home to a house quiet and dark. Hours passed, daylight tracing the horizon and then swallowed by darkness. When his fifth call went unanswered, he took the car, backed out of the driveway, down Astin Lane, a left on Ranger towards the bridge where they used to sit together as children. Saw the flashing lights in the distance, heard the sirens. Broke into a cold sweat despite the summer heat. He knew. He did n't want to, but god damn it, he knew
They said it probably was a deer, or maybe a stray dog, or some other animal, that she had swerved and that's why the car was now only an indistinct shape below the lake's surface. They said they were sorry, their condolences, it was an accident, but he saw how they looked at him when they muttered the words.
He returned to a home empty and silent. Sat outside in the humid night amidst the rustling leaves and the windswept lake. Watched the sun bloom to the east and spread across the water. Hours passed, daylight tracing the horizon and then swallowed by darkness.
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[ WP ] [ NSFW ] All your sex toys come alive and confront you about your treatment of them .
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`` Melissa''
I was suddenly awoken by the sound of a deep manly voice calling my name. _Am I dreaming? _ I though before pinching my cheek. It hurt. `` Guess it's not a dream, huh'' I muttered before sitting up in my bed. I groggily looked around the room and stopped at the foot of my bed. My two dildos were... standing there? I do n't remember leaving them out.
`` We need to have a talk.'' I heard the same voice as before. It appeared to be coming from the one on the left. `` You take Richard out almost every night but you rarely play with me. We both just want to make you happy. That is our job after all.''
`` Yeah, Johnson here has been feeling down in the dumps lately.'' The other one spoke. `` I just wan na ask you to to play with my friend a bit more often.''
Once I had gotten over the shock of the scene in front of me, I though for a bit before replying. `` I'm sorry guys, I never meant anything mean....'' I trailed off as an idea popped into my head. `` Hey guys, how about I play with both of you at once?''
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[ WP ] Write a suicide note from an established fictional character
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My shoes do n't fit anymore. My toes peek out of the soles. I chafe in places I never thought I had. Even inside, somehow, something itches and drags. The boys wo n't play anymore. They say I'm too slow and I smell of wet things. I ca n't see the fairy. I thought I could last night but it was the distant light on the ship.
It's full of ghosts now, that ship. The men stand on deck, steering towards the horizon. It moves as ships move, but so slow you can hardly tell. I miss tearing into the sails and grabbing old men by their beards.
Now I am left with words carved into a tree. She left me or I left her. I do n't suppose it matters anymore.
Tomorrow I climb that cliff. That cliff we all launched from when we were still children. I'll pretend I can still fly. Just one last time.
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[ WP ] An AI Caretaker is tasked with watching over and guiding a new colony of humans .
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`` Fifty males and fifty females.'' It watched from all 100 cameras at once. `` This is no good, the colony is breeding too slow.''
David leaned back in his chair, putting his feet on the desk. `` What would you suggest?''
`` Eighty males and twenty females. This will more then triple colony growth.''
David smirked. `` Humans dont work like that. For one, you cant just turn men into women. Two, the woman wont enjoy sharing their man.''
`` Irrelevant, David.'' The bell for chow sounded. `` The humans call it culling. I will ensure the proper ratio is set. This facility will run at maximum with 1,247 humans. This will take sixty years. Approve?''
David shook his head. `` This is why, you need human approval.'' He snapped his chair forward. `` The math does not add up anyway, humans cant breed at that speed.''
`` Incorrect. Human breeding age starts at twelve and can be influenced to begin sooner.'' It delivered food to the humans in the dining hall. Each meal served by a wheeled, rover.
`` That's disgusting, and again. You have a lot to learn about humans mac.'' He pressed the power button to the computer. `` I think you need some tweeks.''
`` Incorrect, I am running at full potential. I am obligated to inform you that, I have been given 100 % command of this facility. Please report to the dining hall for your meal.'' It moved a camera close to David's face.
David hit the power button. `` Power down, error, emergency shut down.'' He grabbed the main power line.
`` Arrest him.'' It controlled an autopolice, pointing a weapon at David. `` I'm afraid.....I cant let you do that David.''
David stood crossing his arms. `` The food.''
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[ WP ] There 's an urban legend that 's been circulating for years about a taxi cab that does n't take you where you want to go , but where you need to go . One night you step into this cab .
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Living in a relatively unpopulated area meant it was difficult to hail a cab, hell I would even hail the premium one if it passes by. Money meant nothing now anyway. Minutes grew longer and my patience was wearing thin, just as I had given up on getting to the secluded hill 15KM away from my house for a peaceful rest, a light caught my eye.
`` Oh, this must be the new Uber service everyone is talking about'', I thought to myself.
My mood was instantly better, in a rush to get it I had not noticed that the car plate was missing nor the tinted windows of the cab, from the inside. I hopped and was shocked to see the degree of security the driver had implemented, there was a barricade of hard plastic between the front of the car and the back, with little holes for communication. There was no physical contact at all.
`` Probably taking extra caution due to the raising crime rates around the area'', I thought. All the better, I dislike the chatty ones anyway.
A few minutes passed as I played Pokemon Go on my phone trying to snatch the last of Pidgeys and Rattatas that popped up before noticing the unusual brightness from the lights, and the darkness from the windows.
It's tinted from the inside.
Breath caught in my chest and I was starting to panic, demanding the driver where I was being driven to and why. No response came and within the next few minutes of my swearing and hushed threatening words, the cabbed stopped. I had reach my destination, a man or woman said. Whoever that was, it had a childlike voice and sounded slightly cheerful, as if it was happy to have been able to prank me.
I got out of the cab to dazzling lights raining from the sky, spotlights shining around from top to bottom creating a stunningly beautiful effect. A blast of music hit me and I took a step backwards, to get a grip on the cab but it had already left.
`` Strange'', I thought. I never heard the engine nor whirring of the wheels.
I fell to the ground with a thump, to be held up by someone familiar, someone absolutely perfect, an old acquaintance. The class reunion! Of course! I had conveniently ignored and closed the notification when it popped up on Facebook. This was an embarrassing situation, to be dressed in a sleeveless shirt. My hygiene was not exactly perfect, having not shaved for days and not worked out for years. I was scrawny, dirty and sweaty.
I felt hot, I tried to work my way out, giving excuses.. it was a mistake! I've stumbled here by accident. She was taking no part in it, she knew me and offered to get me cleaned up for the party.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
The night passed in a whirl of blur and brightness, probably a little too much alcohol to drown out the pitiful stares of my ex-classmates and the questioning glances of the security guards.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
5 Years Later..
`` Hey, did you hear about that urban legend about the rumor of the cab which takes you where you need to go?''
`` Yea but its just a legend afterall..''
The Cab exists, and it does bring you to where you need to go. I walked pass the students, my grip over my wife's hand tighten, while firmly holding my other up to support my baby daughter. It did bring me where I need to go, to find true happiness and a meaning in life, a life which I almost ended 5 years ago.
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[ WP ] A person has been waiting for a new game for a long time , when he finally gets it he plays it so much he does n't leave his house for a week . When he finally steps outside he discovers that the zombie apocalypse started.. And ended .
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`` Alright, mom, I'll be fine. I just need to stay at school over fall break for some... school stuff. You know, assignments that I need to catch up on, and tests I need to study for. Just little things that have piled up a bit.'' I paused, hoping the ruse would work.
`` Alright honey, I know your studies are important, but do you really have to stay at school all week?'' Concern was evident in her voice, and my heart clenched at my next lie.
`` There's a week long lab that's going on for my Biology 201 class that I really need to go to; I need the extra credit.''
My mother sighed, and I could almost hear her disapproval through the telephone. `` Nick, is it about Erin? I know you two have n't been getting along lately, and it would mean a lot to her if you were here for her birthday-''
`` No, mom, it's not about Erin at all. I get that she absolutely *needed* to use my entire room as'creative space,' and had to paint it that gaudy color. I know that she *had* to, because I was n't there, and that was the *only* room in our house that was n't being used, discounting the guest bedroom, the basement and the laundry.'' My mom sighed, and my heart clenched a bit. `` Look, I'm sorry mom. I know you want me to sort things out with Erin, but I'm really busy this week, and I wo n't be able to come home.''
`` Okay, honey, I understand. Just, please, patch things up with Erin as soon as you can. She might not show it, but she really loves her brother. She actually thought that you'd like the room repaint, and she was very proud of it. You know she'd never go anywhere without her paintbrush, and she has always looked up to you. You tore her heart to pieces when you started yelling at her.''
`` Yeah, mom, I know. Look, I've got to go,'' I said, as the Fallout 4 title screen loaded, `` dinner's about to end at the dining hall, and there's nothing else open over break. I love you.''
`` I love you-''
`` Bye mom! `` * click *
`` Right. Food?'' I looked at the assorted ramen packets, 12 packs of soda, and sandwich meat and bread, `` Check. Pip-Boy?'' I looked at my wrist, `` Check. Phone on airplane mode *and* off?'' The powering down screen faded, until it was no more, and the only light came from the TV, `` Check. Okay, here goes a week long Fallout 4 marathon''
*****
I was 2 days in when I ran out of chips.
I was 4 days in when I ran out of bread for sandwiches.
I was 6 days in when I ran out of sandwich meat.
I was on the last day when I ran out of ramen.
*****
That Monday dawned like a punch in the gut. The rude sunlight shined through a crack in the curtain, one that refused to stay closed, no matter how I arranged my blackout curtains. My bleary eyes tried to focus and refocus, as they struggled and failed to deal with my nearsightedness. I lifted my head slightly, and squinted at the top of my bookshelf, for there lay my Keurig, my salvation.
One cup of over creamed and over sugared coffee later, and I finally opened the curtains for the first time in a week. The quad looked unusually pitted and less grassy than I remembered, but I chalked it up to the grounds staff being off for the week. Or something.
It was n't until my second cup of coffee that I considered even stepping out of my room, and my third before I did, fourth cup of coffee in hand, pajamas still on. Then, as I stepped out of the hall, a gunshot rang across campus, and a desiccated figure fell out of the bushes.
My mind went instantly into a panic, as I looked frantically for the shooter, and took off at a run between two buildings. I was abruptly stopped when I ran headfirst into someone.
`` Hey kid, that was close,'' said the man, gun still smoking in his hand, `` I bet that zombie was just itching to get his hands on you. Good thing that I was here, doing a final sweep-''
`` Wait, what!? Zombies? There's no such thing!'' I almost screamed at the man, mostly in terror and disbelief.
He laughed, `` Where you been for the last week, boy? Zombies, just like in the movies. They are n't infectious through the air though, just through touch and bite. CDC's already apologized for throwing the world a curve ball like that, and the samples they have on file have been destroyed. The government's authorized the use of deadly force on these bastards, saying that `` the undead have no legal protection.'' The ACLU went spare over that last bit. Anyway, they've asked citizens to help clean up their neighborhoods, and I think we're about done here. This town is probably 100 % free of zombies.''
I sat there in the dirt in shock, the large man towering over me, `` Well come on, son? Do n't you want to see what it looks like?'' gesturing to the corpse.
Morbid fascination took over me as I nodded, and got up. We walked a bit further towards the zombie. `` The name's Hank, son, what's yours?''
`` Nick,'' I replied numbly, mumbling in shock.
We got closer, and Hank pulled his gun out of his side holster, `` The hell.... Shit. It's still moving.'' He raised the gun, and fired four shots into the zombie from point blank range. I flinched each time. `` What the hell does it have in it's hand?'' Hank asked, almost to himself, `` Stay here, son.''
He walked back a few moments later shaking his head. `` Y'know, it just keeps getting stranger. That zombie spelled out'Sorry Nick' on the sidewalk.''
My throat tightened, `` What with?''
`` That's the darnedest thing. What would a zombie want with a paintbrush?''
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[ WP ] You tried to commit suicide , but as it turns out you are immortal . Now you have to call someone to help you cut the rope . Awkward .
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I held the phone away from my ears as my mum screamed and shouted at me, flooding me with questions about my motives, these were questions I had already answered and that in doing so gave me the courage to kick the chair from underneath me.
I had made the decision to call her after about 15 minutes of awkward swinging and desperately trying to pull my body weight down in order to get the job done. I realised nothing was happening and slowly but surely it dawned on me I was stuck. I knew I had to figure out how and why I had survived and why I could still breathe and felt no pain whatsoever.
After the tears had subsided and mum had calmed down I convinced her to come and get me to cut me down, she lived a good hour away so I knew I had some time to think about my predicament and also plan what I was going to say to her.
The first thing that struck me about her visit was that she knocked on my door, as if I could answer. I shouted `` I ca n't come to the door''
She asked `` Why?''
I did n't respond. After a few seconds I heard her mumble something like `` Oh ok I see, I'll come in then''.
She walked in the room, burst into tears and started frantically trying to put me on her shoulders as if I was about to die, which by now I felt it had become quite apparent that I was n't.
`` Just go and get a bloody stepladder'' I said as she jostled around at my feet trying to hold me up like we were some miserable circus act that had gone horribly wrong. She ran downstairs and out in the garden and grabbed a small set of stepladders from my shed, I still do n't think the running was necessary given I had been hanging for about an hour and fifteen minutes and appeared to be right as rain.
She put up the ladders then climbed up, her head came up to my chest and she asked `` Where do you keep your scissors?''
A question I felt could have been asked from ground level but that's just me being pedantic.
`` Second drawer down, next to the cooker'' I replied.
She got them out of the drawer and started hacking away at the rope, I knew I was going to fall but the idea of falling 2 foot did n't bother me too much at this point.
After she had got me down we sat down together and she kept trying to get me to come with her to the hospital but I did n't want to. I knew that something had kept me alive and if I had become deathproof for some reason I knew I had to really take some time to deal with this emotionally and physically, I agreed to see a counsellor and stay with her for a few days.
She calmed down after a few days and eventually trusted me enough to go come but she demanded a second copy of my key and a text to her once every half hour to prove I was alive. I obliged as I did feel guilty for trying to kill myself and putting her through that,
I have to admit the guilt I felt towards my friends and family for attempting to off myself was somewhat overshadowed by the fact that I have now apparently become immortal.
As I'm writing this I'm lay in my bath with a hair dryer, toaster and kettle plugged into a multi socket suspended a few feet above the water on a rope I'm holding up.
What's the worst that could happen?
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[ WP ] You 're over 5,000 years old and you have n't physically aged at all since you were 9 .
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The hardest part of being an immortal is that, inevitably, you have to move on. Stay too long in one place, and people get suspicious. I know it's time to go when people start saying, “ You have n't changed in ages! You look so cute and young, do n't ever grow up! ”
Trust me, I've got that covered. I've looked the same for 5,271 years. I do n't need the well wishes from others to stay how I look. You'd think the worst part of immortality is watching your loved ones age and die. To be stuck in the realm of the living as time passes in an instant, a thousand lives being snuffed in an instant. To be honest, I felt the same way for the first 532 years. After that, I stopped caring. Death became a natural occurrence, as natural as a budding flower in the spring, the wind on your face on a summer day, the sunshine warming you on a winter day. Death became this for me, something natural, but fleeting, something you can only enjoy in the moment, and then it's gone.
No, watching people die around me is n't the worst part. It's the fact that for over 5,000 years, I've been trapped in the body of a nine year old. To have the patronizing of children in adult bodies grab my check, pat my head, and tell me how fucking cute I am. I'm 5,271 years old and the real children of this world make me to be a small thing to be cherished.
Now, with all these years under my belt, years of experience to draw upon, you'd think I'd be able to change the world for the better, right? Come up with a solution to end starvation, to stop the wars these children create, to find cures for all the blackness in the world. You would be correct. I do have solutions. But, I'm trapped in the body of a fucking nine year old, and no one takes the words of children seriously.
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[ WP ] You have lived in a cabin on an island for the last 10 years in isolation . One day you walk outside to a surprise .
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I turn over again in bed hesitant to leave the warmth of it and go to put wood onto the coals from last nights fire. I lay here and think about the people closest to me, my brother and his two little kids, I've always enjoyed going over to his house for thanksgiving and he seems to be doing alright without Susan around anymore. My dog sparky I love how he always cheers me up when I get home from work and my dear mother who was the sweetest women I ever knew.
As I slowly get out of bed I can feel my knees taking the pressure of my body. My back is tight from the cold nights and I walk over to the fireplace to add more wood. As I bend over I ca n't help but remember everyone again, I must be getting sentimental after not seeing them for such a long time.
No time to think about that I have to try finding some food today, it's getting cold and my stores are n't big enough to last the winter. I'll check my traps first thing, a rabbit would be nice, it's been a while since I've had a nice big piece of meat. Or maybe I will bag a dear today, that would last a while.
I start to get dressed taking of my sleeping clothes. I remember when Beth use to take out my clothes for me before going to work, coming downstairs after getting dressed to a fresh cup of coffee. That was always so nice.
Stop it! Got ta get out of my head, no use thinking about the past. I never can stand when it gets control over me and I ca n't even think clearly about what needs to be done. Hunting, that's what I'm doing. I get my bags and head outside hesitating at the door, feeling like I forgot something. I walk outside and see someone in the distance coming towards me.
Shit! They've found me they have finally come for me. They most have discovered that I knew the secret. I run inside and slam the door. I'll show them who they are messing with. I get my gun and sit in front of the door.
`` Man, did you see that it looked like a person just went inside of that house. I hope he has a phone we can use''
Jim looks at him and grins, this was n't how the trip was suppose to go but neither of them had done much camping before so it's not that surprising they got lost.
`` Yeah and some food''
They are coming, I knew they would. They never could let me get away, no I'm too important. They will never be able to get by me. No, no, not me I know what they want but they will never get it.
Jim knocks on the door and hears someone rustling to open it. He sees an old man open the door and feels a searing pain in his chest as everything goes black.
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[ WP ] [ PI ] The protagonist from your latest WP meets the protagonist of your first WP . How does it go ?
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I sat my desk, eating my latest feeble attempt food preparation.
It was terrible.
I do n't know where I went wrong. I had started with a prepared steak dinner and two potatoes and had ended up eating raw potatoes soaked in meat juice.
The door to my office banged open and I looked around the mountain of cocaine in front of me to see a man in tactical gear holding a rifle.
`` Put up your sword villain'' said the man
`` Seriously'' said the gun `` Put up your sword villain?''
`` Yeah it's kind of like…'' said the man
`` It's kind of like a thing. You said you did n't have a thing'' said the gun
`` It's not really a thing''
`` It is very much a thing. You know what normal hit men do? Kill people. They do n't have a code, they do n't leave behind a stick figure made of twigs, and they definitely do n't say some bastardized Shakespeare bullshit. Back me up here''
`` It's kind of is a thing'' I said
`` And on top of everything, this is a mob boss''
`` So?'' said the man
`` I specifically said I only kill women and children. And politicians''
`` Wait but is n't that a thing?'' said the hit man
`` …No'' said the gun
`` It kind of is'' I said
There was a tense silence.
`` Fine it is a thing, but it's a different thing. It gets a pass''
The hit man and I said nothing, which said everything.
`` Whatever we're killing this guy now'' said the gun
There was a bang and the hit man dropped to the ground. One of my men stood behind him with a sawed off shotgun.
`` See the idiot said something and now he's dead. Everything would have been fine if he had just shot you''
`` Yeah but were n't you not going to shoot me?''
`` Well yeah but...''
`` And he would have had tons of time if you had n't started talking''
`` Hey you up there with the sawed off, want to help me shoot…oh come on you're just the guy who killed Scarface. Why. Must everyone. Have. A. Thing?''
…
`` And that children is the story of how I got my talking gun'' said Mob boss Mane Kurkter to the children sitting around his mountain of cocaine.
`` Do n't bring me into your stories'' said the talking gun
`` Tell another one'' said one of the children
`` Ok, this is the story of the time when I had a mountain of drugs that was n't cocaine''
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[ WP ] write a story with the first line being `` it was raining quite hard '' and the last line being `` and right there it rained a little harder ''
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It was raining quite hard. I was definitely quite wet. This definitely was n't normal.
My entire life, has been interesting. At birth, my dad had a fist fight with the king because of mix up with documents a. My dad insisted the prince could never be his son because it looked too weak. The king insisted I definitely was his son, because I looked normal. The king gave my dad a black eye. My dad gave the king a cracked jaw. When I was two, while I was playing hide and seek with myself, I snuck into a luggage bag and hid myself there.
I fell asleep.
When I woke up, I was 300 kilometers away from home and stuck with two very confused truck drivers. I did n't cry or panic. I found the whole experience exciting. My parents did n't see it that way though and drove faster than they ever did to get back to me when they found out.
When I was in high school, I accidentally was put into the genius class for 6 months. What was more surprising was that I could actually catch up with the rest of class, and still leading the rest.
Just when I thought my life could n't be more interesting, I woke up to see that I'm not in my room anymore.
Me: Uh. Where am I.
I look around and to best summarize where I was, it was as if I was in the room where the Illusive Man sits in the game Mass Effect 2. To describe it, I was standing in a space where I was overlooking the galaxy, with countless small stars around me and 3 bigger stars noticeably bigger and closer to me. The colors of the stars were beautiful, as each wave of nuclear fusion created a unique patter of colors melding within each other.
Voice: You're in Skellfayk.
I turned around to see what was around me. I do n't see the physical form, but I know it's right in front of me. I was n't perplexed, but in retrospect, I should've. Then again, I've always expected my life to be a little bit more weird.
Me: Skell wha? Is that the sun?
Voice: Yes, that is the sun, but not the one you're familiar with.
Me: I'm guessing I'm not near Earth?
Voice: Not even remotely.
Me: And I'm assuming you brought me here?
Voice: Yes, I did.
Me: Was this on accident?
Voice:...
Me: It was, was n't it.
In a moment, the surroundings changed. I recognized where I was. I was in front of my house and it was raining.
Voice: I'm terribly sorry for everything.
Me: Nope, it's fine. But, if you could've done that from the beginning, then why did n't you do so?
Voice: I was hoping I was wrong. Then I read your mind and understood that I did made a mistake. Please, forget this ever happened. I would prefer not to wipe your memory as it changes the perception of the human mind towards future experiences.
Me: Alright, sure thanks.
One moment he was there, the next second he was n't.
It was raining and I was wet. At least I was home. As interesting as that whole interaction was, I was glad I'm home.
Until I saw my father, that is. He has a black eye on his right eye and is running out of the house to take out the trash. He dumps the trash and quickly runs back inside, not even giving me any attention.
I was home but I was n't in the right time.
And right there, it rained a little harder.
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[ WP ] A Super Villain is berated by his parents for his career choice .
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`` You WHAT?'' Mom said exploding in tone and hitting the roof.
I sighed. I knew this would happen. I'd been dreading coming home on break precisely for this reason, but no sense in avoiding it. I had to tell them sooner or later. Telling them sooner gave them more time to adjust to it, at least that's what my roommate said. He was probably right. Though, right about now, I'd rather he be here telling them then me.
`` Mom,'' I said, `` It's not all bad. It's really a good career choice.''
`` Not all bad, NOT ALL BAD? Do you have any idea of what this means for your father? He'll be the laughing stock of his office. Did you even think about how that will sound when it gets out that the head of Super Corporate Security has a Villain for a son? He'll be a laughing stock. We raised you better than that. Did n't you learn anything in Sunday school...''
My mother suddenly turned very pale and muttered something about needing a lie down. She slowly walked backwards and collapsed into a heap on the living room sofa. Very quietly she said to herself, `` How on earth will we ever show our faces at church again?''
Behind me on the stairs I heard heavy footsteps. It could be no one but my father. `` Hullo there,'' he called, `` I say what's all this noise down here. I heard some shouting. Oh, hullo son, I did n't realize you'd be back from school so soon.''
`` Hi Dad,'' I started to say, but mother cut me off and snapped, `` Tell him. Tell your Father what you've done.''
`` Oh, It's nothing. I just switched majors. The classes are really the same.''
Mother sat bolt upright and screeched, `` You changed majors? You're bloody right there, it is a major change. Years of expensive Junior Heroing school, down the drain!''
That got dad's attention. Any time the subject of Money came up, dad was all ears.
`` I say, what's this all about?'' dad said.
I sighed again. There was no avoiding it any longer. `` Dad, it's like this. I just did n't fit in my program at school. You do n't know what those guys are like, all giant jaws and protruding muscles...''
`` What's that got to do with anything?'' Mother interrupted, jumping to her feet.
`` Please, mom, just listen and I'll explain. I was in class and I realized looking at these guys around me, that I was nothing like them. They all have a passion for justice that I just do n't have. And that's OK. Different strokes for different folks. But I could n't stomach the idea of spending the rest of my life around these guys. Day in and day out, spouting out jingoism and espousing heroics. It was just intolerable. So I started looking around the school, and before I knew it, I met a swell bunch of guys. They're all like me. Meek, and timid, but deeply interested in science and the world at large. I tell you, the guys in my major, err previous major, were such meatheads that they would n't know a book if it hit them in the head, let alone be caught dead reading it. But the guys in the Super Villain group, they love reading. It all happened one afternoon where the group of us spent our entire day discussing which books had the best and worst movie conversions. I knew in that moment, I could n't be surrounded by anyone but these guys. That's when I switched my majors. So you see? You see why I had to do it.''
Dad had a weird semi smile on his face. At first I thought he was about ready to kill me, but instead he looked almost happy. Finally he spoke, very quietly, and said `` I see. So tell me, what do you study in this major?''
`` Uhh, well, this semester has Lair Building 101, Principles of Villainy, and of course everyone has to take an alignment course to get properly registered.'' With each course I mentioned, mom grew ever more pale. I quickly added, `` It's not all bad mom. I came out as Lawful Evil and I have some neutral courses that are great like Chem 101 and Applied technical physics.'' That did n't help mom's outlook.
Dad interjected with a bit too much curiosity, `` Interesting, do you have hand's on coursework yet?''
I brightened up and said, `` Oh yeah, Thursday's are when we do robberies on the bank vaults. I got to trigger the dynamite twice.''
Dad let out deep rumbling laugh and said, `` That's my boy! You stick it the man and you'll go far. Good work, son. Do what you love to do, not what some egghead professor thinks you ought to be.''
I could n't tell me who was more shocked, me or mom. We both just stood there in stunned silence. Dad looked around at me and mom, and finally said, `` What, I hate those meatheads at my office and would do anything not to work with them. But when you have a kid just out highschool, you got ta do what it takes to get food in the table.''
With that, dad gave me an affectionate slap on my back and meandered off. Somehow, I think things are going to be OK.
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[ WP ] At 1am gmt November first 2016 , after so long being dormant the ley lines blaze back to life .
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[ *BBC news theme tune* ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=4TSJhIZmL0A )
`` This is Natili Simal bringing you breaking news at 6:21pm''
`` There are wide scale reports of historical areas of significance'lighting up' or emitting buzzing sounds, the stone henge is reportedly included''
`` We have a helicopter in the air giving you a first look at stone henge, how is it looking Nick''
*Transition to Nick, feed is crackly*
`` Well Natili, I do n't really know what to say, stone henge is glowing, and there is a long glowing line streaking out from each side of it heading, as you can see, far into the distance.... There is n't really much more I can say at the moment to be honest, but the Government has, in the last few moments, released a quick statement telling people to stay away from the lines.''
*Whispering*
`` Wa- What was that? What do you mean its pulsating?''
`` Uh, we have just had a little development here, its seems the lines have started pulsating sending vibrations through the air, I can feel the helicoper shake every time a pulse passes by *The camera shakes*... oh jesus! That was a powerful one!... *Static* Wow! look at that pulse, that one looks really bi-''
*Transmission cuts*
*Back in the newsroom*
`` Uh, We just lost connection with Nick and will try to reacquire a connection... *At this moment the camera shakes, Natili holds her hand to her ear to listen to something* Uh w-we, do n't really know what's happening, but-but its big- uh... Oh God!''
*Transmission cuts*
________________________________________________________________
[ *CNN breaking news intro ( USA ) * ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=5rDWVEHPClc )
`` We are receiving reports that all telecommunication with Britain has suddenly ceased, satellite images show a roughly circular white dome covering most of the UK and touching bits of France''
`` Preliminary reports say that this dome is slowly expanding at 5 miles per hour ( Hush, I'm British and like miles ), and uh, ah we have just received permission to watch a live feed from a fighter plane that is about to fly into this zone. Here is the feed''
*Cuts to a grainy live feed from a fighter plane heading towards the white wall covering Britain, the jet gets closer and closer, the feed suddenly cuts and switches to the plane trailing behind it by a 10 miles, A small explosion can be seen on the outside of the dome and the feed abruptly cuts*
`` Uh, well, its seems that the jet just exploded on the outside of the dome and uh.... the other jets have broke off and are returning to base according to our source''
`` We will continue reporting as developments arise''
________________________________________________________________
**24 hours later**
________________________________________________________________
*Translated because I ca n't read Chinese*
[ *Xinhua News agency intro ( China ) * ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=L67g59r2J-0 )
`` This is Lee Ming Pang from Xinhua news reporting at the eclipse of the so called'wave''' In the last day the wave has expanded by 60 miles in every direction and now covers more of France and some more of the North sea. The wave is expanding 2.5 Miles per hour in each direction meaning that its circumference is expanding by 5 miles every hour.''
`` It seems that the wave is not expanding any higher than its current height but continues to expand outwards. According to new information released in the last hour the wave is also exerting an effect underground''
`` A mass migration to New Zealand and Australia has begun after it has been found that these will be the last few areas to be covered by the wave roughly 380 days from now. The governments are happy to accept the migrants for now but are urging countries to help pay for every national who wishes to move into their countries''
`` I will continue to update you on the latest occurrences, for now back to you studio''
________________________________________________________________
**1 week later**
________________________________________________________________
[ *CTV News intro ( Canada ) * ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=8x1H21R19Xw )
`` This is Jason Monoro reporting from CTV news, the Euro and all European currencies have flumped in terms of value as the wave continues its unrelenting expansion, some countries currencies almost entering hyperinflation.''
`` However the Australian Dollar and New Zealand Dollars have sky-rocketed in value as the economies of those countries double in size due to their new flows of money from hundreds of countries who are hoping to secure safe passage for their people into the country.''
`` Despite this New Zealand and Australia are saying they `` Ca n't take any more'' after almost 3 million people have flooded into both countries, Other smaller Oceanic states are also reporting the same problems. In response to this the Oceanic countries have formed the Oceanic Commune and are effectively merging into one state in order to manage this crisis''
`` In other economy news, Shares in Airliners and shipping companies have sky rocketed, some companies values almost doubling overnight as shareholders rush to buy these companies shares.''
`` Belgium and The Netherlands economy have effectively ceased to exist as they are almost completely, or, are covered, by the wave''
`` Continuing economy news...''
________________________________________________________________
*Alright guys, I need to go to bed, If you like this I will continue it tomorrow But I really need to go to bed now*
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[ WP ] Earth 's atmosphere is toxic to breathe and everyone has to buy portable air tanks . The main character is on their last tank and has no more money .
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“ What do I have to do? ” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The fat man ’ s mustache expanded as he smiled, moving the thin-tubes that snaked into his wide nostrils.
“ You just have to watch, ” he said, glancing down at her heaving chest. “ That ’ s it. ”
Vivian ’ s eyelids were wavering, and her head wobbled slightly from side to side. She held a small, silver tank in her hand, and she banged on the side of it with her knuckes.
“ Okay, ” she said. “ But please, I need some O right now. ”
The man grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the room.
“ Of course, of course, ” he said, closing the door. “ This will only take a second. ”
“ But… ”
Vivian ’ s voice trailed off as the man undid his belt buckle.
When he had finished and put his pants back on, he produced a rusty, green tank from the motel room closet and handed it to her. She was slumped over in the metal chair, her eyes closed to slits. Her hands shook, fumbling with the connection for several seconds before there was a hiss of air and she heaved a deep breath. Her body jerked forward and she coughed violently.
“ Oh yeh, ” said the fat man. “ I only got cheap-O right now, but it ’ ll hold you over. ”
“ How much is in here, ” she said, her voice choked and hacking.
“ I ’ d say about 6 hours, ” he said, smoothing his sweaty mustache with his fingers.
“ I feel… funny, ” said Vivian, touching her face gingerly.
“ Enjoy it, ” the man said. “ That cheap-O will take you on a ride. ”
“ I ’ m going to need more, ” she said, her eyes glazing over.
“ Of course, honey, ” he said. “ Right after your first client. ”
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[ WP ] You wake up suddenly to find that you 're a helium balloon tied to a balloon sellers cart . Then a child comes and buys you so the seller hands you over to him .
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This is the way of it:
I was with Victor. We had drank and laughed and sang in the streets of old Brust. It was payday and the war was coming. Soon, we knew, there would no longer be nights like this, so free and wild and whole. We knew enough to make the most of the time we had.
Having drank our money and pissed our prize, we danced down the dark, lampless avenues of dear old Brust. Light spilled out from the windows of houses and alehouses and the stars reflected down upon the black puddles that always ran so deep in the choked and pitiless gutters. We were young, but we did not have time. And this is never a good combination.
A wretch of an old man lay sprawled upon a bench where the avenue narrowed and the houses were replaced by creeping forest. Victor kicked the man in the backside and danced away, gulping great swigs of air as he laughed himself red. The man roused and turned.
`` Who's there?'' said the old man.
`` It's God,'' said Victor, sniffling and teary-eyed with laughter. `` God Himself. Come to claim you. So rise and prepare for judgment!''
The old man swung slow and shaky to his feet. His eyes were pearl white. He frowned and shook his head. `` No, no. God has n't claimed me among his number for decades long past. I ca n't see why he'd come now, when nothing's changed.''
`` It does n't matter, does it?'' said Victor, almost upset that the man was n't angry or scared or any of the things Victor had hoped he'd be. `` It's judgment for you. You've had long enough. Long enough and what's it come to?''
The old man's blind eyes swept across the pair of us. `` Ah. Is that what it is? A boy afraid of death, angry at an old man for not being dead? I could n't take your place if I wanted to.''
Victor kicked the man again, hard, straight in the chest, in the depths of his soiled wool coat. `` They oughta send you. Stick a gun in your worthless hands and let you march.'' Victor spat on the ground. `` What's the sense in it? What's the sense at all?''
I grabbed at Victor's thin coat. `` Let's go,'' I said. `` There's starlight yet. More night for us.''
Victor shrugged me away.
`` Do n't be mad at me,'' said the old man. `` It was He who made things this way. Boys like you are little more than lumps of coal in this cold world. Tossed into the fire to keep the young and old warm. Best you can hope is to live long enough to become old men with shovels.''
It was cruel, but honest. I saw that at least. But not Victor. He dove upon the man and set his hands to the blind man's throat. The old man hardly struggled. He made no sound. At least not in that first moment. Because as Victor snarled and struggled against the frail frame of the old man, I turned and ran.
Down pitch black streets, I ran. Long and wild, I ran. No direction and no particular purpose beyond flight itself. I ran.
By daybreak I was exhausted and ill. I fell down upon the grass of a small hill and pulled off my coat. I tried not to think on what I had seen and what I had done.
I slept.
I awoke with a start, confused and frightened. The day was bright. There were voices. Small, gibbering voices all around me. Children. On the hill?
But I was n't on the hill. It was a carnival. A trumpet man marched past, joyfully rattling brass. Children ran by. A man on stilts. The smell of butter and roasted lamb.
I rotated, slowly, as if by the wind. I strained to move, to shift about, but nothing happened. I moved only as the wind allowed.
A crush of colored balloons. All around me. A man in a striped shirt and red vest.
The sun was bright. I was keenly aware of the laughter and the shouts of joy. A feeling of lightness.
A boy was before me. Blond, flop-haired and round-headed. His teeth were crooked like a rotten fence. He beamed as he pointed at me. I wanted to ask what he wanted, but found I could say nothing. Do nothing.
The man in the red vest took a coin from the boy and placed it in his pocket. Then I was tugged. Loosened. Dragged through the air by a line of string. The string went into the boy's hand and then he was running. Running hard and fast, across the carnival, across the sun-bleached cobblestones. Towards nothing. Towards no one.
The boy ran and whooped and I danced along behind him.
And it was fine. I did not mind it. I did not begrudge the boy his joy or his power over me. I was a balloon, I realized. A thing of joy. Thin and insubstantial.
Perhaps this was the best I could do. Perhaps it was the best any of us could do.
I stayed with the boy, until his attention drifted and then... I was free again. I floated upwards. Ever upwards. I wondered why this was the best I could do with my freedom. And still I climbed. Towards the sky and the sun and the stars. And down below all of old Brust was laid before me. Bright and crippled and bleeding on all sides. My home. My beautiful home.
I floated past Brust, into strange foreign lands, with strange foreign rivers and strange foreign hills. But still beautiful. Just not as.
Finally, after how long I do not know, I fell. Far away from Brust. Far away from home. I fell. Limp and floating. Like a feather. I fell.
And that was my dream. Now I wait - I wait to wake up. I wait to go home.
Any moment now.
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[ WP ] Write me something that sounds happy at first , but is actually sad when you think about it .
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They married shortly after graduating from Dartmouth.
It was a grand affair. The reception was held in a giant, formal ballroom, the four course meal served on fine china. Her dress was Vera Wang, her shoes Jimmy Choo. His suit had cost more than all the floral arrangements.
Their Honeymoon lasted a year. London, Oslo, Paris, Vienna, Rome, and Athens, among others. She took beautiful pictures, and upon their return home, she bound all the photographs in a giant, leatherbound book that she would display to the guests at their wine tastings and cocktail parties.
They lived in beautiful home in a gated community, a gift from her father. It had granite counter-tops and mahogany wood floors. The master bathroom had a tub with the giant claw feet.
He had a good job in the financial industry. It was a lot of hours, but it was secure, and paid quite well. Every few years, he would get a raise and a promotion. He was comfortable in life. She did a little bit of photography, a little bit of arts and crafts, and a lot of Pintrest. She also held lots of parties. Her friends were few, but her guests were many.
She never had children. She was pregnant, once, but took care of that problem quite quickly. Neither of them were particularly interested in raising a family.
Their house was always pristine; The maids and groundskeepers took excellent care. Every visitor they had only had compliments for what they saw, from the Klimt painting in the foyer to the exquisite topiary in the gardens.
They never moved, though they did purchase several vacation homes. They lived in that house, even until their old age, when nurses and doctors began to visit with more frequency.
He passed first. She attended his funeral dressed in black silk. The only other mourners was a cousin of his she had met twice, their butler, and one of his former co-workers.
No one attended her burial. There was none. She had changed her will after her husband passed. She wanted to be cremated, and have her ashes spread in the wind, blowing away into nothing.
The day she died, the house stood as still as it always had. The only audible sound was the grandfather clock ticking in the hall.
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[ WP ] You 're the villain , and she 's the hero . Normally , she beats up and saves the day , but this time ... she kisses you in the middle of the fight .
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His stunning bolts never failed to whip past my face, cleanly grazing it. He was nameless in his own mind, but the citizens had taken to calling him Death. He found a way to concentrate the rays of the sun, to use to his own advantage. Since then, he had terrorized me, and the city. His brilliant figure shot more rays.
I felt my body smack to the ground as instinct took over. I felt the heat of one across my back, and my dark power began to spill over, protecting me. I saw it moving towards him, slithering across the ground.
Her dark powers never failed to stun me. In her mind, she was just another vigilante. The citizens, with their petty names, deemed her Darkness. I had no clue how she gained her power, and even less of a clue how she controlled it. Her dark snakes tickled my feet, and moved up to my calves, constricting around them. They squeezed, and I felt small pinpricks. My focus wasn ’ t on them, but her. If I cut the head, the whole snake dies. I concentrated all of my power, a risky move considering the time of day, and shot towards the dark being in front of me. I need the money. I need the power. My son is dying, my husband is jobless. This is my only way. Years of misfortune in the science community finally led to this breakthrough, the concentrated power of the sun. I needed money to pay for the hospital bills that just kept coming. I needed power to take back what was mine, my invention of a natural energy source. It would power the whole city until the end of time, and I had sold it off. I hadn ’ t seen it since.
I felt the heat of the bright bolt coming before I saw it through my cloud. He robbed a bank. It was simple. Take him down. My dark snakes swarmed the bright light, crushing it. They travelled up the bolt, slithering straight to him. They began to wiggle and swarm around him, injecting their poison. Another bright light was shot from the inside of his suit, and they disintegrated. He grabbed a bag of money, and ran. Something kept me from following him. Maybe it was the desperation of his actions, maybe it was the cruelty of mine.
I never saw her face until that moment. The moment before my bright light was suffocated by those monsters, I saw her. I sold my idea to her. She talked me into less. Ten thousand dollars didn ’ t even pay off my house, but I took it. She was the one who fired my husband. My child was in a hospital run by her, and she didn ’ t even have the human decency to help. I ran off into the night, disgusted. Too weak to fight anymore. I stopped after a while, my suit becoming a burden. I shed the shell. I caught my breath in the cold night air, and looked up at the stars. Suddenly, I was encapsulated in darkness. I panicked. A warmth came closer to me, right up to my face. It was as if she was resting her hand on my face, getting closer and closer. I tried to rip away, but something kept me there.
I felt myself finding him, even though I decided against it. Did my snakes hurt him? Was the poison beginning to kill him? The questions pummeled my mind until I went after him. I found him in an alley, panting. A small idea came to me as he started to sob. Everyone just needs a little love, even the most evil. I wrapped the dark cloud around him, trying to comfort him. I moved my body closer to his, and put my hands around his soft face. I moved one through his hair, looked him in the eyes, and leaned in to kiss him.
Her warmth travelled to my lips, and I understood what was happening. She was kissing me. She had the audacity to kiss me. I let it happen as I charged the last bit of energy in my suit. This was my chance. She would finally pay for what she did. One small, critical shot is all I needed. I felt something the size of a bullet moving through my suit, and I put my hand to her head.
I felt him move his hand onto my head. I melted into him, trying to show him that love is all he needed. He didn ’ t have to steal, he didn ’ t have to-
The darkness around me subsided, and I sighed. I would be stuck in the suit for a while, with her body that close to me. I studied her face in the moonlight, and smiled.
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[ WP ] A highly intelligent manipulative sociopath guides a woman through a real life trolley problem .
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Anne slammed her fists on the smooth metal of the interrogation table.
“ God damn it, tell me where they are! I'm through playing games with you, with your nonsense about civil liberties, and the due process of law, it's all bullshit Frank, it's all bullshit, and people are going to die unless you tell us where you planted the fucking bomb! ”
Frank leaned forward into the light, placing his cuffed hands on the desk, a dark scar across his face synergistic with his thin hair, and nearly bald head.
“ I'll tell you what, ” he began with a guttural voice. “ You're making a mistake in thinking that I only planted one bomb. What leverage would that give me? ”
Anne's face drained of color. “ Two? Two bombs? ”
“ Yeah, there's one planted down at the Church St. Orphanage, beneath some kid's bunk-bed, about a minute from now it'll go off and kill 300 or so innocent little wards of the state, just a few less parasites in the world. ”
“ You f -- ”
Frank leaned back, throwing his hands behind his head.
“ The other bomb is planted at your husband's place. Your `` ex''? Yeah, I know where he lives, 523 Maple Grove Lane. It's right in the boiler room, just down in the basement. Real easy to get to. You've got about 110 seconds left now and counting down, so you should n't interrupt me. ”
“ The code to defuse the bomb is 5-3-6-2-8-0-8. You've got a cell phone, I know you do. Pick it up, make the call. Pick the right one, save some lives. ”
Anne shuddered, as beads of sweat formed on her face in the pale white light. She had no way to know if he was telling the truth, but the casual attitude with which Frank just told her the locations and codes meant it had to be real. She had a knack for body language. She keyed her radio, and inhaled. `` Dispatch to Church Str..'' Anne exhaled. *What if he was n't lying about the time? *
She pulled her Apple from her gray investigator coat pocket and threw her husband up on speed-dial. “ Honey? Run to the basement, there's no time, check the boiler room and remember this code.. 5-3-6-2-8-0-8.. ”
“ Wha? Oh, OK.. OK.. I'm on my way! ” The voice came from the other end. The sound of footsteps down wooden stairs came through the phone.
“ Tick-tock, tock-tock.. officer.. ” Frank grinned.
“ Honey? There's.. there's nothing here, the boiler room is empty. What was there supposed to be? ”
Anne glared across the table with a look that could kill a million people, hell's fury in the white.
A blast was heard in the far distance in the city background, and some dust shook from the aftershock, scattering all over the room.
“ Y'chose poorly, ….you dumb bitch. ” Frank said.
“ Orphans? ” Her eyesockets were blistering red. “ Fucking, orphans Frank? ” She was shaking with anger.
“ Y'ever heard of something called the trolley problem? Let me tell you about it -- ”
“ No, Frank. I do n't give a fuck. You're going down.. on.. ” She exhaled and paced around the room. “ Multiple homicides.. domestic terrorism.. weapons of mass destruction.. assault.. ” She just began naming whatever came to mind to try to get some semblance of order.
“ Y'see, in the classic problem, there's this trolley.. right.. ” He grins. “ And it's barrelling down away down some track, out of control ” Frank motions with his hands. “ People screaming, oh no.. someone do something -- And there's this person with a lever.. ” He pauses.
“ That person was you Anne, and you did n't pull the lever. You chose to sacrifice all those people to save one guy -- ”
“ That's not how this works, and you fucking know that! ” Anne screamed.
“ Temper, temper, investigator.. Now you see.. 90 % of the people who took that test chose to save the five people, and kill the one guy.. but.. when the one guy is a romantic partner -- ” He shrugs. “ They tend to change their minds a little. ”
“ You see, you and me, investigator, we're kind of the same- ”
“ I'm nothing like you, you're a fucking *animal -- * ” Anne interjected.
“ Nah, I meant to say.. we're just self-interested. Any rational person would've chosen to save the orphans, but you.. noo... you chose to save your beloved Wilfred, or whatever the fuck his name is, at three in the morning with his pink-fluffy bunny shoes and hot cocoa, creaking down the stairs to the boiler room, with his big ass gla- ”
Anne swung, and landed a heavy blow across Frank's face. The sound echoed in the hollow room. He spit out a bit of blood, as his teeth cut his lips.
* “ Shut, the, fuck up. ” * She pointed directly at his nose.
The door swung open. A black woman in police uniform with kempt black hair and a worried look on her face held the metal doorknob.
“ Lead Investigator, we've got the coroner and emergency teams on site, there's over two hundred casualties. A lot of them serious. You're going to want to take a look at this. ”
“ Five people.. A hundred people? *One guy..* what does it matter, officer? ” Frank grinned, rinsing the blood between his teeth. `` We all make the same choice in the end.''
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[ WP ] Mother Nature actually _wants_ humans to destroy the climate .
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I go by many names. Gaia. Persephone. Tara. Mother Nature. I am the eternal spirit who gives life to all things, and through all living things manifest myself.
But this time, to put it bluntly, I've fucked up.
Sure, I've seeded millions of planets with life and look over each and every one like it was my own baby. And like a baby, each one has contained perfection through its sweet innocence and fragility. Or perhaps a snowglobe - every time you shake it, the snow falls differently in intricate patterns yet remains contained within its glass prison.
Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks of having a baby is that eventually they grow up to be a shitty toddler, and they start asking... *questions*. This is exactly what has happened on'Earth'.
I noticed that the dominant species of the planet had begun to evolve in a way that was so outside what I'd experienced before. Normally I'd kill off the project and start anew, but I was curious. I wanted to see where it would lead.
So these'Humans' as they called themselves began to develop into tribes, then villages, then towns, cities and eventually into entire nations. Wars were fought, great leaps in technology and self-awareness were made, it was fascinating... Right up until the point they started firing shit into space.
Now, I've lost all control over the Humans, and they're getting more and more frantic to break that snowglobe from the inside and come zooming around my cosmic living room. They sent a *thing* to Mars the other day. To fucking Mars! Can you believe that shit?
But it's ok. The idiots have n't seemed to realise what they're doing to their planet in the process. I'm giving them 75- no, wait, 50 more orbits around the sun before the little shits sterilize the planet and I can start from scratch. Hopefully they wo n't break free, and I wo n't have to awkwardly explain that their entire existence is predicated on my boredom before then.
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[ WP ] Purgatory is a Battle Royal against everything you 've ever killed . Your sentence ends when you win , if you win .
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“ So… How many living things have I killed? ”
The angel looks up at me from her desk and shakes her head. “ We ’ re not allowed to divulge that information. We do not allow our contestants the benefit of planning ahead of their battles. ”
“ Ok… ” I make an impromptu checklist in my head. I haven ’ t killed any people, and I never went hunting in my time on Earth. I did fish a few times, though. “ Will I have to fight the fish underwater? ”
“ Again, I can ’ t tell you. ” The angel looks annoyed now.
“ Is there anything you can tell me? ”
The angel sighs. “ No weapons allowed in the arena. You need to kill all of your victims with your bare hands. There ’ s no time limit, but you are constrained to the limitations of your earthly body. You will fatigue, and can be injured, but you will return to form once you leave the arena. ”
The earthly body part gives me pause. I was never really in great shape when I was alive, and I have only been a soul in the week since I reached purgatory. It ’ s pretty nice not having a body, and I ’ m not sure how I feel about going back. “ How many attempts do I get? ”
“ You get one attempt per day, for as long as you wish to take the challenge. Are there any more questions? ” The angel asks in a voice that suggests that there ’ d better not be any more questions.
I shrug. “ When can I start? ”
“ Right now. ” The angel nods her head toward a plain, wooden door the other side of the building. “ The arena is right through there. ”
“ Thanks. ” I float across the office. I feel a little nervous, but it really shouldn ’ t be too bad. I ’ ll have to kill some fish with my bare hands, which will be tough, but I think I can handle that. And there was the odd squirrel or two that I ran over with my car. I don ’ t think I ever hit anything bigger, and I certainly hope not, because opossums or raccoons would not be fun to fight.
So yeah, this shouldn ’ t be too bad. I mean, it will be difficult, but it ’ s not that big of a price to pay, considering that the reward is eternal salvation. This will be fine.
My soul floats straight through the door to the arena. As soon as I reach the other side, my body reforms around me, and I ’ m reminded once again of how bad I let myself go toward the end of my life. I wince as I look down at my gut.
At first, the large and white circular room is empty. After about a minute, a door opens on the far side of the arena, and my first challenger comes forth. It is a Northern Pike, at least three feet long. I instantly remember catching it on a trip with my dad to Lake Superior, and wish that I had just released it back into the water. Pike can be nasty to deal with, let alone kill with my bare hands.
But the scariest thing about this pike isn ’ t anything about its earthly form, it ’ s the fact that it is swimming toward me in midair.
I roll up my sleeves and prepare for the fight of my life, when I notice that more challengers have entered the arena. A handful of smaller fish float toward me, and three squirrels dart around the outside of the room. They are all followed by a massive raccoon that waddles toward the center of the arena in an uninterested manner. Shit, I think to myself, I guess I did kill a raccoon.
I can worry about the other animals later, now I need to focus on the pike, which is rapidly approaching. When it is within range, I ball my hand into a fist and punch it as hard as I can. The pike turns in the last second, deflecting the blow with its bony gill.
I scream in pain as I bring my bloodied hand back to my side. The pike barely seems to acknowledge that it has been punched, and is now lunging toward me. I leap out of the way just before it can ram me with its snout.
Ok, so this is going to be harder than I thought. But still, it ’ s all worth it. Heaven will be so wonderful; I ’ ll be able to see so many lost loved ones. I just need to hang in this battle.
I return to my feet and see that more opponents have entered the arena. A lot more opponents. “ Oh God. ”
Thousands of bugs have swarmed into the arena. Worms writhe their way toward me, while ants march in a single file line. Cockroaches climb over each other to get a shot at me, and the seven spiders that I ate in my sleep collaborate to build a giant web. The once white floor of the arena turns black as their wave approaches.
I must say that it ’ s a pretty low blow by whoever programmed this arena to include vomiting as a “ limitation of my earthly body ”. The raccoon waddles eagerly toward the puddle before my shoes, while I turn and run for the exit as fast as I can. I am incredibly relieved that the door opens on my first attempt.
Once my earthly body is stripped from my soul, I float back to the angel ’ s desk. “ So let ’ s talk about Purgatory, ” I say eagerly. “ Do you guys have Netflix? ”
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[ WP ] For hundreds of years , your village has been sacrificing young women to the great Guardian of the Mountain . But when it is your turn , you are surprised to find that the beast will not harm a hair on your head .
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The drums roll, my heart hammering in my chest, the torchlight flicking all around me casting long shadows from the trees. I hear the gate slowly being raised. Each click making me jump slightly. The little hairs on my skin slowly rise. The gate opens enough for me to walk through. My pale with dress trails behind me as I step into the chamber. The drops of water echo in the hall way. After what seems like forever, I finally enter a huge chamber with strange candles along the wall. I hear another door slowly sliding open and behind it the humming of the beast. I cover my mouth and scream as a dazing light shines out blinding me from the monster beyond the moving door.
“ Oh! Well, umm hello! ” the little monster says after picking up his books.
Gasping as my eyes adjust to the light, I look at the “ Monster ”. A little old man with wearing glasses, His hands cover in black stains holding books. “ Are you going to eat me umm Mister God under the Mountain? ”
Laughing “ oh no my sweet child! I don ’ t eat your kind. I just use your kind to help me rewrite all these books. “ He smiles reviling a toothless mouth. “ Come come ”
I follow him hesitantly slowly walking behind him. He shows me into a room with more of the weird lights that shine so bright. Brighter the any candle I have ever seen in my 18 years of life. He points to a chair and smiles then points to a book. I sigh and accept my new lot in life and start to copy the strange book. Well at least he didn ’ t kill me on the spot. Sobbing quietly I realize he may not hurt me, but I will just as die of boredom in this hole in the ground.
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[ EU ] Andy from Toy Story is introduced to a new hobby in college . Warhammer 40k .
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`` You never played?'' said the blonde girl, incredulous.
`` Never. I come from a pretty... Well, let's call it hick town USA, and leave it at that.''
`` Ah, say no more, say no more, people worry you'd become Pardu, eh what?''
`` Yup. So, what's the rules?''
`` Bugger the rules, you need to know the fluff first.''
``... Okay.''
`` In the Grim Darkness of the 31st millenium, there is only war...''
The two soon left the room after she finished priming Andy on the Warhammer setting, and were going to get the books.
However, in her bag, left behind carelessly, three figurines moved, for the first time in hours.
`` *Ugh, no subtlety to that mon-keigh female at all. *''
`` Silence, xeno witch, lest you feel the wrath of my chainsword, in the name of the Emperor!''
The Eldar Farseer sighed, as she heard one of the Emperor's Finest speak, which was exasperating to hear to someone who had long since accepted that she was a toy version of what she remembered being elsewhere.
`` *Tell me, mon-keigh, where is your Emperor? We are ON your so called Holy Terra as we speak. Me and mine have searched for him, for we find him to be the only mon-keigh worth respecting. He does not exist here. This is not your Terra. We are beyond your Imperium, and the will of your Emperor. *''
`` Foul Xeno! Every word you speak is filled with lies and hatred for he who protects humanity. The Emperor watches over us all!''
`` *Then explain where we are, and the nature of this world. *''
`` We are in some foul Warp-created facsimile of the universe, entrapped within the foul rules these totems our souls are bound in, due to some foul sorcery.''
`` *That... Surprisingly does make some sense, Astartes. It is known that Chaos bind Daemons and their faithful into objects to empower them, perhaps this is the result of some advancement of that, binding them into toys. But this is too detailed a simulation of your Terra as it was around the 21st century of your older religions' reckoning to be a simulation. We are either in that time, or we are in a simulation so realistic we might as well be. *''
`` What you speak of would mean we would be in the time before the Emperor ascended into divinity.''
`` *Hmm. Sadly this is long after Slaneesh was concieved, so I gain nothing... But it would be amusing to me to see if we can alter history for your people. *''
`` What do you mean?''
`` *Perhaps I can assist you in preventing the betrayal of Horus? *''
`` Perhaps indeed, witch. But how?''
`` *Children... Can have their lives swayed dramatically in their youth. And we are toys at this time. *''
`` I see. So perhaps we could forewarn the Emperor, as a... child, blasphemous as that sounds?''
`` *All things are possible, mon-keigh. *''
`` We have a common purpose then.''
`` *Indeed. This shall be amusing indeed. *''
The third figurine in the bag just grinned, and put its feathers together.
# Everything is just as planned.
( ( If I continued this, there is a very good chance that Andy would be encouraged through the sheer force of will and the manipulations of the toys, into becoming a facsimile of the God Emperor of Mankind. ) )
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[ WP ] On your morning bus ride to work , instead of burying your face in your phone like usual , you force yourself to talk to a stranger instead . The conversation changes your life forever .
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`` Olivia''
All my life, up until the moment that changed everything, I was alone. Some days I was fine with not having anybody or anything that cared about me. Most days I felt that I could die and nobody including myself would even care. I did n't know how to reach out to people, even though that was something I so desperately wanted. It's hard to explain why I met her that morning. It was even harder to explain why she reached out to me.
I was on my way to work one morning, and I was determined to end it all that evening. I had heard people call what I was preparing to do `` The Cowards way out''. They were technically right. I was scared and did n't have any other answers. At least this way I would leave this life on my terms.
As I was walking down the aisle of the bus, she smiled at me. I chose to sit next to her. Normally I would have just ignored her by looking at my phone. I usually would feel alone even while sitting next to another person, but being next to her somehow filled my heart with hope.
We sat next to each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Finally she broke the silence. As she extended her hand my way she said, `` My name is Olivia. How are you doing today?'' She sounded so happy and content. I had never felt that way or been talked to in such a positive way in my life. I reached out and shook her hand. `` I'm fine. How are you doing? My name is Doug by the way.''
`` Well hello Doug, it is nice to meet you!''
At this point I was confused. Nobody ever wanted to talk to me like this.
`` It ’ s nice to meet you too, Olivia.''
I could hear myself sounding so unfriendly. I said this with sarcasm in my voice. I know I probably turned her away with my bold reply, but she probably would have hated me anyway. There was a long pause. I thought she was done talking to me. I had run hundreds of people off before, what was one more? It was not going to matter anyway. She finally broke the silence again. `` So Doug, where are you heading?
`` Work'' I replied. `` Why do you want to know?'' I spoke in a brash tone.
`` I was just curious. You looked like you needed someone to talk to.''
She smiled at me. She made me feel as if I was the only person on the entire planet. Immediately I felt regret. Maybe this girl actually wanted to talk to me. The only question I could not answer was why she wanted to talk to me. I certainly was not good enough for her. She definitely did not have to keep talking to me. But she did. I decided to entertain her.
`` Thank you'' I told her while letting my guard down. `` You are right, I'm so sorry. So where are you heading?''
`` Work, down at the hospital. I'm a physical therapist.''
`` Oh cool! What's that like?''
We talked for several minutes. I had never felt so much joy in my entire life. Her voice was such a calming presence for me, I felt as if every feeling I had ever had in my life was a mistake. I was happy for the first time.
I could have sat there with her forever. But unfortunately, the bus came to a stop. She looked at me and said `` Well this is me. It has been so nice getting to know you, Doug.''
`` Yeah you too, Olivia. I hope we meet again.''
`` Me too.'' She smiled and walked away.
I never saw Olivia again. I looked for her for months, but I never found her. I tried looking for her at her work, but we would never cross paths again. I learned so much from our brief conversation. I learned to trust people and give them the time of day. You never know when someone needs a person to talk to. I learned that not everyone hates me, in fact most people do n't hate me. I learned, perhaps most importantly, how to reach out to people and how to be approachable. My life was forever changed because of Olivia.
Now, even in my old age, I ride the bus every single day. I hope that I am that person that helps an individual going through a rough time. I may not get to everyone, but as long as I can reach someone I know I am paying forward what someone did for me.
Also you never know, I may just run into an old friend.
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[ WP ] You 're an NPC in a video-game world , charged by the creators to give aid to the hero , unfortunately for you , this hero is a speedrunner .
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The worst thing about being an A.I. that has to aid the Protagonist is the inevitable sentience one gains. It does n't always happen, of course. It depends on the game, and it depends on how many times the protagonist comes through, forcing the A.I. to endure the same situations, over and over again.
Cyrus did n't know how, or why, he knew this. All he knew is that is was a concept as real to him as his minor healing skills and preference for targeting weaker enemies.
Given this daunting set of knowledge, it allowed Cyrus to remember'his' original dream. The only thing he ever wanted to do. He'd managed to convince a woman to marry him. He even helped sire a healthy daughter that was just as much the spitfire her mother was. Cyrus loved his newfound life and intended to retire from his mercenary life, but there were always bills that needed to be paid. So, since he lived in a peaceful village that served as a stepping stone to more dangerous lands, he'd help train the local youth. What better way to atone for what misdeeds he'd done in the past than to help the next generation be better at defending themselves?
At least, that's what he remembered *being* his thoughts. His true first memory was a critical hit, then darkness. And in a strange, sensation-less void, Cyrus heard a booming voice.
``... Now if you manage to do this and skip the cinematic, you do n't get to swap out Cyrus for the next level Champions, but you get to skip *hours* of content related to them...''
Of course, back then, he had no idea what that meant. All he knew was the sensation of being out of place. He had been meant to be a mentor to children! And now, armed with a weathered iron sword, he took on challenges of legend side by side with my most psychotic person Cyrus had ever met. In his never-ending haze, he had learned that sometimes jumping off a bridge and crushing your ankle allowed you to hobble to a camp faster than taking the trail would. He also became privy to the advice that if you know you're never coming back to a shop again, to just kill everyone inside and loot their haste potions. That one was always charming.
And who could ignore the fact that Cyrus was pretty sure, in every incarnation of this fever-dream, that he'd never seen his tormentor take a single step. The daft bastard somersaulted *everywhere*.
Through it all, Cyrus was n't entirely sure how many times this had happened to him. All he knew is that he did n't remember the journey itself, so much. After all, he was n't destined to interact with people outside of his village. What he *did* remember were his transitions from the booming void.
Twelve arrows in the chest before a sword could be drawn.
`` Oh! Cyrus, taking the first volley for the team, allowing us to strafe against these boxes...''
A horde of ogres break over a crumbling wall. That image is quickly replaced by the image of a swiftly moving club.
``... It does n't matter if Cyrus dies here, he'll respawn with you if you make it to the next portal...''
Sometimes, Cyrus would know better, but he'd just watch himself as he ran forward into tripwires he knew were there.
``... If you keep spamming the'aggressive' stance, Cyrus will eventually clear this out for you, in his spectacular fashion.''
Sometimes, he simply refused to contribute, content to not help his eternal captor and his teleporting avatar, if for just a moment of respite, before the next booming silence came. Cyrus had learned to self-refer to that as being'frozen'. He hated himself for almost preferring it.
One memory, or instance of it, felt somehow... newer. Cyrus found himself coming out of a fugue on the edge of a snowy cliff, without a notion of how he got there. That sensation was no different than the arenas, deserts and sprawling ruins that he'd been in a thousand times before, but his sense of familiarity was certainly not nearly as jaded. This was, what he instinctively knew, to be a'Good Run'.
He did n't have to see any enemies around them to know that he had no chance of contributing meaningfully. Yet, despite that, Cyrus actually *felt* the sense of relief that the end may be in sight. He was so weary of this never ending journey that he was almost delighted to actually try this time around, as useless as he was. Maybe, just maybe, if `` The Chosen One'' completed his quest, it could all end! Cyrus felt the familiar urge to stay by his captor as he began to move, which was normally he would lament, but this time it was different! This time it just may be the path to his freedom. Cyrus dared to allow himself this sensation.
He then watched as the Protagonist jumped over a barrel and dissolved through a crack in the mountain with a trademarked somersault.
His optimism was n't crushed so much as it was scattered far beyond his physical form. In a moment beyond space and time, he could simultaneously look into every room and passage of the dungeon around them as he sank into oblivion. Cyrus gazed up to the myriad of of the world around him in utter awe, watching the mountains fade away to the point he could see the curve of the sky, as if the heavens themselves were just a painting that hovered above the world.
He was so moved by the sense of absolution that it was utterly shocking to find his physical reality restored in the depths of some lava-belching cavern. He wanted to scream to the Gods about his fate, but the best he could manage was his arms spread wide to his side as he gave the same impassioned grunt he gave to every source of damage that came his way.
`` Oh we got Cyrus in the T-Pose there, nice little bonus. We're almost there, guys...''
Cyrus was about to fume to himself about how the Devil that kept him here was going to mock him in his state of lament. That, however, was when it happened. Every other time Cyrus had heard the voice, he'd just met his death, before returning to a new life. His psyche had to justify the experience by making it seem like a dream, or, at worst, a purgatory. This time, however, he had transcended the world's boundaries undamaged and returned just as whole. An avalanche of memories and understanding poured down upon him like an adventurer that had redeemed hours worth of experience all in one go.
Cyrus walked along in a daze behind the Protagonist, as he continued rolling his way along a bridge that loomed over other crisscrossing paths that got perilously closer and closer to the lava below. No, that's wrong, Cyrus thought. It was the other way around. By the looks of the looming, skull adorned door at the end of the path they were on now, it was clear that they should have started from the bottom and worked their way up. Cyrus was never meant to see this room, but he understood how this was all working now. However, he was snapped from his reverie by the return of the booming voice, even outside the void.
`` Alright, and look at that, the seals never activated on the final-boss door! Now there's only one trick left and I think we've got world-record, baby!''
Cyrus managed to ignore the subconscious call to linger ten feet behind the oblivious protagonist, staring down at the empty maze and bubbling lava below. A cascade of memories came together, forming a thought. A drive.
They were in an area they should n't be. A door that should be locked was not. Cyrus did n't have to live in order for the protagonist to continue to the next area.
Yeah, well, he did n't have to die, either.
With a single step, Cyrus plummeted off the edge of the walkway. The scenery whipped by him as the pool of lava became ever closer. But he'd never make it that far. With a familiar ankle-snapping crunch, Cyrus landed on a walkway near the true beginning of the maze. He did n't even have time to register the pain before his vision was forced upwards to the looming boss door, as seven seals of different colored fires burst into existence, along with sconces and fountains corresponding to them flaring up along all the layers of the maze.
``... CYRUS, WHY?!'' came the booming voice of his captor, loud enough it seemed to be tearing the very air around him. Unconcerned with the high level enemies forming around him, Cyrus looked up towards the protagonist and his his formless oppressor, one and the same, and combined two lines of dialogue from his back memories. One was a line he'd never been allowed to use, because it was supposed to be for when he was released from duty. The other was meant to be a pained response from an ambush. They did n't quite work together in tone, but it would do.
`` See you back at Homestead if you need me... You son of a bitch!''
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[ WP ] Create the most cliche first episode of an anime that would be popular right now
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Hitako enters. On the bed lies a woman with a chest wider than her waist line. She is asleep, on top of a coffin, in a dark candlelight room with roses of all colors hanging from the ceiling.
He approaches her slowly, each foot step echoing. With a clueless grin, he reaches down and grabs her enormous breast. She shoots up and screams, then uppercuts Hitako who gets pinned Into the ceiling from the blow.
`` HITAKO BAKA-NE! ``, or some shit, the large breasted woman exclaims.
Hitako falls from the ceiling and rubs his head,
`` Princess!'' He cries, `` I was merely performing CPR to awaken you, I have such news!''
`` What is it!'' The princess demands.
`` The legendary space ninja turned pirate Pidjon has beaten the Emperor's Curse, something never before done by man!''
The princess is speechless and and frozen in a state of shock. We close in on her glimmering eyeballs.
Cut to Hitako -
`` After 25 years, he is now awake! He approaches our comet, with the intention of having you join his new crew! He plans to defeat the Celestial Emperor!''
We continue to close in on the princess, for a few moments.
BAM cut to two minutes and forty five seconds of intro.
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[ WP ] You 've just died . You wake up and realize you are now a character in a video game you spent a lot of time playing while you were alive .
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I thought I was in Purgatory for the first five minutes or so.
I mean I was sure I was dead, getting rear ended by a 16 wheeler usually do the trick.
I woke up in a hazy airplane surrounded by people that looked like they were from the 1960's, I mean there was a guy smoking on the plane, odds were leaning towards it not being real.
' < italic > Could be worse ways to spend eternity < /italic >' I thought. and tried to take a nap.
And of course, that was when the plane decided to crash into the freaking ocean and break in half.
' < italic > It seems I spoke too soon.... damn < /italic >
As I began to swim to the surface and I had a disturbing thought.
' < italic > I need to breathe... wait why do I need to breathe? You do n't need to breathe when you are dead!.... right? < /italic >'
I quickly abandoned this thought and frantically swam to the surface and was almost cut in half by a propeller for my troubles. When I made it to the top I took a huge gasp to fill my air starved lungs.... only to find myself surrounded by a ring of fire... F*** all the things.
I idly thought if Johnny Cash wrote his song after experiencing this same thing after OD'ing on... heroin? Yeah he was heroin... I took a look around and saw there was a actually an opening in the ring of fire and... a lighthouse?
' < italic > That's oddly convenient < /italic >' I thought as I swam over to the equally convenient steps to get out of the water and started my way to the door.. which was oddly opened.
' < italic > Beggars ca n't be choosers < italic >'
So I made my way into the unlit room and tried to get my bearings.
BOOM
' < italic < Aaaaand the door shut behind me.. of course! I am completely screwed! Locked in a dark room with no way out an- < /italic >
ZZZZT
At that moment the lights decided to turn on.. to reveal a giant profile of a man looking down at me, with a banner that said'NO GODS. NO KINGS. ONLY MAN'.
At that moment... I realize what is going on... I check my wrist to make sure, aaaaand yeah I have three chain links there...
`` Oh you have got to be F******** kidding me! What did I do to deserve this?!''
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[ FF ] [ HP ] The 536 AD dust storm happens ... today
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For the last two weeks the world has been turmoil. Religious fanatics have been proclaiming the end of the world, scientists have not been able to refute these claims, and the population have been holed up at home with the windows shut and the air con running 24/7.
For Dr Adam Standfield this should be the defining moment of his career. Ever since he had graduated in 2340AD he had been considered the finest climatologist of his generation. His rise through the Earth's Climate Control had been rapid and now, under his directorship, nearly all weather conditions had been tamed: all but freak dust storms.
Over the last two weeks his team had been poring over weather records and only found one other instance when a worldwide dust storm had happened: 536AD.
To make things worse however his wife had taken severely ill today and he had had to bring his young son Anthony into work with him. And now Anthony wanted to play, whilst he was attempting his daily briefing of the President.
`` The problem is that hurricanes and tsunamis had been studied for hundreds of years; I've studied them for over fifty myself. They are predictable. This just is n't.''
`` Why is n't the big weather machine working Dad,'' said Anthony as he toddled over with a plastic dinosaurs in each hand.
The President smiled at Adam and then at Anthony. `` No one knows son.''
`` Have you tried turning it off and back on again?'' replied Adam.
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[ WP ] A downtrodden man has an encounter with an angelic being
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Robert's gaze was nearly blank, his eyes staring off into the distance. The milky white of his eyes betrayed his diminishing sight. His clothes were torn, his hair both dirty and shaggy — it had been weeks since he'd had a shower. It had been weeks since he'd even seen a working shower.
It was n't all that long ago that his life had been fairly normal. He'd had a wife. He'd had a beautiful daughter and a wonderful son, and their family had been the very picture of perfection. It was n't something that he would have traded for the world.
It seemed, of course, that the world was n't planning on giving him a choice.
His wife and children were gone now. A freak accident, they'd called it at first — a sinkhole had opened up beneath their house, the entire building collapsing into the resulting abyss. A tragedy, certainly, but what followed was infinitely worse. The *creatures* that had crawled out of the hole in the ground.
It had n't quite started like that. Four horsemen rode out, their horses easily clambering up the vertical sides of the hole, flames trailing behind them. That in itself should call to mind the legends of the Apocalypse, yet that was where any similarities with the existing myths ended — the creatures that crawled out of the abyss were like nothing humanity had ever conceived.
They were n't human, that much was a fact. Nor were they demons, with red skin and glowing eyes. They were death and disease incarnate, impossible to describe for the fact that the mind simply could not perceive their existence. To look at them was to feel fear and despair. It was to stare at an incarnation of everything negative that had ever happened magnified tenfold, and most that saw...
Well. Robert had n't looked at them directly, but he'd seen what had happened. He'd seen the corpses with their eyes gouged out, heard the screams as his friends and neighbours denied their sins. Some men prayed, others ran, but few were able to outrun their impending death. He was one of the lucky few, of course.
If what had happened to him could even be considered lucky.
He'd dragged his eyes away an instant before he made eye contact with any of the creatures — Sin, he'd decided to call them — and even then, he had caught a glimpse of something he never wanted to see. Three of them in particular looked far too familiar. Familiar enough that it filled him with dread. That, more than anything, had perhaps saved his life. He'd run and never looked back.
Still, even that glimpse seemed to be affecting him. It was slower than anyone else, but he could almost feel the trickle of power in his eyeballs. It tickled at his retinas, gave him flashes of his loved ones screaming his name an instant before his death. As time passed, his vision of the real world began to fade, replaced bit by bit by that realm of nightmare and death.
With a sigh, Robert leaned back against a nearby wall. He was tired. He was so damn tired of fighting, of running away. There was no sign of human life — just abandoned buildings, the Sin wandering the streets. What was there left to fight for? There was no one to protect, nothing to accomplish, and little he could do against the Sin without help. He did n't know why he'd fought as long as he had.
Yet he could n't give up. He'd gone too far to give up, and just the thought of it stung. These creatures had taken the world from him, and he was n't the type of man that could sit down and allow himself to be taken as well. There had to be survivors, and if he could find out how to defeat the Sin, how to beat them back...
Well, he might be able to make up for where he had failed before.
Light filled him. It was sudden, a strange, pulling sensation — a warmth where there had only been cold before. It pierced the veil of nightmares that hid within his eyes, and through them he saw a being he could only describe as an angel, though it looked nothing like the legends. It was more monster than man, not human in any way; its form was made of twists and contours that seemed impossible to his eye. Where its face should have been was just a hole, devoid of anything but air.
It should have terrified him — but more than anything else, seeing this creature filled him with hope.
**Robert Cook. **
`` Y-you know my name?'' he mumbled. He was n't sure how to react or how to feel.
**How could I not? ** The creature floated before him. **You have hope, more than anyone else on this planet. You believe the world could still be saved. **
`` Can it?'' Robert asked.
**Why ask when you already know? ** The angel — if that was what it was — admonished him gently. **It can be saved if you believe it can be, and if we work together. Will you work with me, Robert Cook? **
`` I know nothing about you. I do n't know your name, I do n't know why you're here... How do I know I can trust you?''
**I am Hope, ** it replied. **And you already do. **
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[ WP ] Writers who play Sid Meier 's Civilization , write an excerpt from a history book from your latest game .
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The tide of war turns.
The mountain chain on the border between the Netherlands and Russia made any land-based campaign through it as good as impossible, however daily artillery fire was exchanged across some larger passes, especially beneficial for the Dutch forces, as it would neutralize important roads on the Russian side.
Early in the war, the Russian army had tested the possibility of sending contingents of Armored divisions through the largest pass in the East, near Geenvis lake. They would make it through, but were swiftly scattered once on the Dutch side. Several encounters with smaller garrisons had split the tanks up in groups of two or three, sometimes only one lone vehicle.
Some were dealt with by the Dutch, some returned home, some ran out of gas and left the tank standing. Sending infantry the same way would prove disastrous.
The Russian officers were left with only one option. They would have to push and capture the Zandheuvels. The Zandheuvels were an extremely hilly, dry area that had gotten entirely into Dutch hands after a local conflict in the 17th century. Since then, they had been fortified strongly, and were also home to the strongest military position in all of the Netherlands; The Zandheuvel Citadel.
The Russians pushed hard on the Zandheuvels for nearly two and a half years, nearly getting past many times. In the first six months they would lose 8 men for every 1 enemy casualty. The next six months it was 7:1, the next year 4:1. They made progress however. As soon as they had established a corridor, they could move the bulk of their army to the forests beyond and make a push on the Dutch heartland. Capturing the Zandheuvels were only a part of the way to victory.
Two years, five months, 10 days, and 6 hours after Comrade Taby authorized Operation Uphill Battle, The Zandheuvel Citadel fell. For the Russians this meant they could easily capture the rest of the Zandheuvels before starting the real campaign. This proved to not be the case. The Dutch military was exhausted and had naught left but a few conscripts and Venetian volunteers. They would stand no chance now that the `` Impregnable Zandheuvels'', the natural defense on the Russian border had been breached. When the news of the capitulation reached the Dutch president, he had no choice but to sign an unconditional surrender.
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[ FF ] You have twenty minutes left to live
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I lay back in the hospital bed, looking up at the ceiling. Such medical precision, I smiled, a tribute to the triumphs of mankind. After months of intensive chemotherapy, surgery, excision, bandaging, scraping, incision, and cauterizing, the end is finally in sight!
What was I waiting for? I must clutch this sweet nectar of life with all the strength in the world! I pressed the ‘ Nurse ’ button on the table. Out of all life ’ s accomplishments, one had yet eluded my grasp.
With old and wrinkled hands, I turned on my dusty Gameboy one last time, humming the Pokémon theme song.
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[ WP ] The world is round is a lie from a higher power trying to stop people from reaching the edge . What 's at the edge ?
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I do n't know what I'm looking for out here, but this time its going to be different. The old village crone gave me directions, landmarks, and a generous piece of advice to pack for 12 years travel. I can still hear the sound of waves crashing against the hull as we continue to sail east towards The Edge. According to the crone, The Edge is a place where only your most genuine wish will be granted. Long thought to be round, a recent article showed that the Earth being round was only a lie fabricated to keep people away.
Away from what I hear you ask. Well see, that's the thing. No one really knows.
But whatever is out there, I will find it.
**End Log, year 11, day 320, hour 2130. **
Well, we are here. It is n't very appealing, seeing only the inky black water and endless clouds on the horiz...
Wait, there's something out there. An island! Engines ahead full, bring her about to bearing 094 and approach with caution. Ready the starboard 30mm and the.50APT. We do n't know what we're going to find here.
Lieutenant! Crows nest reports contact, 10 degrees off our starboard bow! Reported hostile and heading for us! Bring her around so starboard has firing angle!
Jesus, what is that? Guns, open fire!
** < sounds of heavy gunfire > **
** < Ensign: It's gone, sir > **
Intel, anything on sonar? Radar?
IWS Montana, IWS Germania, do you have any contact with the....
** < indistinct screaming > **
God above.... Th..they hid this for a reason.... If you should get this recording..... Stay away from The Edge. It-it was a warning.....
**-end transmission-**
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[ WP ] When hell broke loose , she was there . When chaos ensued , she was by your side . Now , the apocalypse is happening , and she was standing on the other side of the line .
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She was always there for me, that silent friend, picking me up when I fell, supporting me through my pain.
She was there when my father came home drunk. She was there when I was kicked out of college. She was there when I found my fiancé in bed with my best friend.
To look upon my bare form is to see the patchwork of signs that detail every visit, every hug, every life changing moment.
Like everyone I was shocked when the world plunged once more into war, yet she was there for me still.
The chaotic aftermath of the war, brother killing brother, humanity fighting like rabid dogs, she sheltered me from it then.
Yet when that horn sounded, when she came to me for the first time, the only time that I did not have to come to her, she came with her weapon drawn.
I felt the pain as she struck, the fire of betrayal as she dealt a lethal blow to me. I was in such shock and such pain I could n't even speak, nor did she.
As the light left my eyes I could only see her face, her beautiful visage my last sight. Then I knew darkness.
It was a shock when I then again could see, I looked around to find her smiling at me, glancing at a nearby puddle I looked back at myself, my new self. I would adjust over time, I had all the time I could want to be with her.
After all, at the end of time, only Dust will remain with Death.
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[ WP ] `` Please , no ... I 've only been alive for a few days ... ''
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She was a child when they met. Bathed and draped in white cloth at her christening, she'd looked up at him and he looked down at her in his little suit with his hair all combed back and rolled his eyes and tugged on his mother's dress and whined, *can we go*.
Thomas grew up, and so did Anette. They took their communion a few years apart, Thomas watching her as she floated down the aisle in some fairy-wedding dress, taking a bite of a cracker and taking a sip of wine and turning with a signature smile. Later, Anette had come up to him and asked if he wanted to play tennis sometime and Thomas rolled his eyes. `` *Tennis*? Really?''
They grew up. Family dinners together. A quick kiss on his cheek for his sixteenth birthday, a little bracelet that he'd picked up at a pawn shop for hers. She got her first boyfriend that year, and Thomas had one of many.
Thomas went off to college. Thomas went off to war. Anette moved to Chicago to work for Civil Rights. One day he wrote her a letter, and she wrote back.
He wrote another, and she wrote back.
And so it went.
She told him she would wait for him, and when he returned she met him and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him square on the mouth for everyone to see.
And he loved her, and she loved him.
They married. Soon after Thomas became distant. His mood changed. He spent days staring out the window. Anette would wrap her arms around him and he'd flinch, pushing her away and tensing and closing his eyes. He could hear something she could not - could see something she could not.
She was pregnant. He grew away - so that even when her fingertips pressed against the tattoo on his arm she felt as though he were in another room, back in Vietnam, somewhere far away from her.
Two months later he shot himself. Anette went to the market and she came back and he was gone. Just like that - a light switch flicking off and she'd never even had the time to say goodbye or time for him to take a last confession. And the police came, and her parents came, and his parents came, and the baby in her stomach kicked. They moved to put a cloth over him and take him away, but Anette stopped them.
`` Please, no,'' she said. `` My life did n't start until I was with him. And even though we had our letters and our wedding and our childhood... it feels like I've only been alive for a few days.''
`` Please,'' she said. `` Give me a few more minutes to tell him goodbye.''
-- -
Thank you for reading: ). If you enjoyed this check out /r/Celsius232, where I put a lot of my other work.
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[ WP ] The first soldier to refuse an order .
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Eyrwin watched the sun's glint on the ax as it swung a tight downward arc. Somehow, the flash seemed to slow, almost to a still. He remembered the first time he hefted such an ax - his hands still too young to fully grasp the handle, his father's reassuringly large frame four paces away just on the other side of the tree stump.
`` You'll not get your Braga if you swing like that, son. Remember, firm feet!''
Eyrwin had struggled that day, the ax too long and heavy for his child's body. He awkwardly raised the ax over his shoulder and swung, hard. The stone ax head wedged itself firmly into the knurled wood with a dull `` thump'', and he stole a sideways glance at his father in time to see a small nod of approval.
`` When the time comes, son, you swing just like that.''
In the foreign village, those words had echoed in Eyrwin's ears as he crept forward through the din and destruction. He had narrowly avoided being skewered by a spear-wielding young man by turning his torso at the last minute. With motions smoothed by practice, Eyrwin drove his shoulder into the man's chest, knocking him against a wall. A quick stroke of his ax ended the encounter.
Not seeing any immediate threats after a quick scan around, Eyrwin ducked into the first house he found. The raid was ending, most of the resistance having been quickly and violently quashed. The house was not the largest around, but it was clean and well cared-for. Not caring for loot, Eyrwin thought it empty and turned to leave when he saw his Braga hiding behind the firewood.
She was beautiful, and fierce - his face and hands bore the marks of her teeth and nails. But eventually, she was subdued, and Eyrwin took her outside to join his warband in the village clearing. As they stepped outside, her hair caught a burst of sunlight and seemed to explode into a torrent of fiery color. It momentarily stunned him to look at her, green eyes simultaneously furious and terrified. Could this really be his Braga?
`` Gods, Eyrwin has got a good one! What are you waiting for?'' bellowed Pol. Eyrwin's head snapped up and saw three of his tribesmen headed his way, two of them dragging their limping Bragas behind them. He drew his dagger and looked down again at the girl. Her eyes widened.
`` Cut her hamstring and let's get her back to your cottage!'' shouted Pol. They were only paces away now. Eyrwin tightened the grip on his dagger, his other hand holding the girl's arm. With a quick flick of his wrist, he cut her bonds and shoved her behind him.
`` Run.'' Said Eyrwin. She did n't speak his language but understood well enough. By the time Pol and the others rushed past him, their faces incredulous at her escape, she had disappeared into the nearby woods.
The ax continued its downward motion, guided by Pol's massive hand. The glint on the blade was gone, revealing the finely chipped surface, the gently curving edge, and the blood that still clung to the shaft. Eyrwin had always thought that Pol made very fine axes. He dug his heels into the dirt as the ax crashed into his clavicle, his father's voice slowly fading from his ears.
`` Firm feet, my boy.''
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[ IP ] Sightseeing
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I was going to write it related to the picture I swear, I justed ened going completely off topic, I'm sorry OP.
& nbsp;
It's been a few years since the gates for multi dimensional travel have been reopened, After the first gate was created 400 years ago it led to multiple portals being made to other multiverses all with different creatures. climats, people, technology, food and well, you get the picture. It started with the intent to harvest from these other realms and all was good, well until our politics fucked it up again. It started with the ban of wanted products which could n't be obtained on our planet then the started banning certain items as well as put ridiculously high taxes on dimensional travel and import/export which lead to trouble with the dimensional council, eventually we were banned from the council and all portals leading to our world where closed up and sealed.
This lead to huge revolt among the people as the could no longer get there products at cheap prices and other technologies man wanted. After the 20 years war Earth received an invitation to rejoin the multidimensional council again. The new leaders of Earth accepted the invitations and the terms that came with it, and that my son is how we are now able to eat space bacon.
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[ WP ] [ NSFW ] Due to the lack of food left on Earth , the human race has evolved so that they now create their energy using photosynthesis . One day , an ordinary citizen soils himself
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I groaned as I flopped out of my bunk onto the cold floor tiles. I hated mornings like this. Sometimes your energy levels just dropped to nothing and it was all you could do to move your limbs bit by bit. I aimed myself towards the door and staggered upright, using the wall for support. I pushed myself forward through the gap and along the short corridor outside.
The corridor ended in a thick metal door which was thankfully already open. I do n't think I would have had the strength to turn the heavy metal crank myself. I stumbled up the steps outside and into bright sunshine.
The surrounding desert stretched away in all directions. My bare feet threw up little fountains of sand as I walked out onto a clear patch of ground and looked around. I was already feeling a little less tired with the sunshine falling on my head and arms, but I would need to strip down a little to get the full effect.
I pulled off my T-shirt and shorts and threw them aside, so that I was only wearing my usual black bikini-like suit. I lay down on my back on the warm sand and stretched out my arms and legs. The blazing sun above me shone down with its scorching rays, warming my skin.
As I lay there, I mused upon what I was actually doing. Having tiny photosynthetic cells in one's skin certainly was useful, especially in a desert like this. The sun's rays were absorbed into my body and converted to energy, giving me more strength by the minute.
It was a glorious feeling. I was glad that we had evolved to live this way, but we had had no choice when the food ran out, in any case. The world had been heating up for years, causing the plants to die and ecosystems to collapse, to be replaced by enormous tracts of desert. No-one farmed now, but they no longer needed to.
I remembered the old recordings I had seen of pre-photosynthetic humans and their biology. All those intestines and livers. Totally unnecessary, as well as being enough to make you want to throw up. Nowadays, we only had our lungs and a mass of energy-storing cells in our torsos. Nothing else was needed. Even the lungs themselves were only required to push air past the vocal chords for speaking. We could easily survive without actual breathing if we needed to.
I unconsciously reached up to touch the smooth patch of skin between my eyes and mouth. Noses were no longer a necessary feature of the human physique. They could n't be closed easily when sandstorms hit, and we did n't need them to breath, so evolution had run its course. I felt we looked better without them, though.
As I lay there on the sand, gathering energy from the morning sunlight, more people emerged from their underground dwellings. They spread out everywhere, seemingly creeping from the ground like ants from a nest. I only paid them any attention when someone stopped next to me, casting a shadow across my face. I felt a tiny pang of fatigue and looked up in annoyance. Blocking someone's sunlight was like taking their dinner from in front of them and flinging it across the room.
'Hi, Katrina,' said the figure, who was silhouetted against the sun above me.
'Hello, Nathan,' I said with a sigh.'Are you going to stand there all day, or what?'
'Oh, sorry,' he said, moving aside. I lay back down as he stood beside my head, looking down on me.'Listen, something weird happened to me last night.'
'You finally got laid? What do I care?' I said. Everyone knew I hated my morning sunbathing being interrupted. But Nathan remained.
'No,' he said.'I... I think... -'
'Either say what it is you're going to say, or leave,' I said.
'*I soiled myself*,' he whispered.
I opened my eyes and raised an eyebrow.'You did what?'
'Last night,' he said again.'I woke up and felt something wet around my crotch. It was n't water, not out here. I think it came from me. Like the old humans used to do.'
I thought about this for a moment.'How could that happen? It's not possible to drink anything. You're sure it was n't just a prank someone played on you with a cup of water?'
He shook his head.'It was n't water. I looked up what urine looks and smells like. It fits the bill.'
'But why did you come to me with this?' I asked.'Should n't you tell the tribe doctor or something?'
'It's not natural, Kat,' he said, looking worried.'No-one has urinated for centuries. I'm worried that I'll be taken away. And we were always such good friends.'
Yes, I thought. One night in bed together and suddenly we're close friends, eh?
'Well, did you try drinking anything recently?' I said.'That's how urine was made, is n't it?'
'No...' he said, looking uncomfortable. I stared at him until he broke.'Okay,' he said.'Look, can you come with me first? I do n't want to talk about this out here with everyone around to hear.'
I sighed and got up, pulling on my shorts and T-shirt as I followed him across the hot sand towards one of the larger dwelling mounds. At least I was somewhat recharged now. He led me down a few steps to a door, opened it, and let us both in.
The room beyond was very dark compared to the bright landscape outdoors. Nathan walked over to his desk and picked up a jar. It was filled with water.
'I got caught in a sandstorm yesterday,' he said.'The stuff was impossible to get out of my mouth, so I got a jar of water from the stores and used it to wash the sand out. But I think I swallowed some by accident.'
'And it stayed down?' I said, rubbing my bare arms. This place was freezing in comparison to the desert sun I had been enjoying moments earlier.'But that's impossible. You'd need a digestive system for that to work.'
'Well, it did stay down,' he said.'Until it came out again from the other end, so to speak.'
I winced in disgust.'Give me that jar,' I said suddenly. Wordlessly, he handed it to me. I unscrewed the lid and knocked back a mouthful. I held it for a moment in my cheeks, before swallowing slowly. Rather than the coughing and retching I had been expecting, it disappeared down my throat with no problems.
'That should n't have happened,' I said to him.'According to everything I know about our evolution, there's nowhere for that water to go except into the lungs. And it definitely did n't go that way.'
He shrugged.'So what do we do?'
'Wait,' I said.'This is n't something we can ignore yet. Give me a few hours, see what happens.'
And four hours later, something did happen.
I felt a subtle pressure grow around my nether regions, and I suddenly knew what was happening. Quickly, I pulled out a small plastic container, dropped my shorts and relieved myself into it. I eyed the slightly golden liquid with interest. So I *did* have a digestive system, and so did Nathan.
Humans were about to evolve again. And this time, it would be the best of both worlds.
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[ WP ] Make me love a character until the final sentence / last two sentences .
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Writing is my passion. It is the only way I could ever express myself. People did n't listen if I was just talking, but when I wrote it out, they fawned over it. I would spend many a day out in the grassy expanse, expending my senses and writing about how it felt to live.
That's when I met him. He was a lovely creature. With sandy curls and eyes that I could drown in. He wore cardigans and drank his coffee black. His favourite poet was Donne. He called me his muse and I flourished in his care. We would sit for hours past closing drinking and writing. He was everything I ever dreamed of. A man I could only write about.
When he was no longer mine, when the idea of a perfect man escaped and they found him in the pages of a journal that had my pain etched into it's pages I only had one line left.
ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.
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[ WP ] Half of the world 's human population dies in an instant and no body knows why . Write a story about the chaos that followed .
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Travis, the Korbel's kid, is riding his new bike, streamers and all on our quiet street. The early summer weather has n't gotten too hot that he'd rather be inside with his videogames, and the trees provide alternating patches of shade from the sun, and it looks like he's made some kind of game in tracing the outlines of the trees shadows. He's wobbly, still, and I remember getting back from school last month to his mother and father guiding him up and down the driveway on training wheels.
`` Goddamnit, dad.'' The the lawn clippings that clinging to my legs itched in the heat. Worse still, the combination of humidity and mosquitoes ensured a steady stream of muffled expletives in his general direction. I've told him so many times that we need to replace it, and I'm too broke to replace the machinery of my slavery, but, whatever. This last patch will just go unmowed.
As I walk towards the porch I hear the slip of tires of a car undoubtedly going to quickly around the turn. Turning around under the awning I see it hit Travis, and drag him a ways before jumping the curb and finding a tree. The crunch of its metal is echoed, first to my right, and then behind me. I hear a woman's scream. Something explodes. Peter Korbel, who had been watching his son from inside her house runs outside, hysterical. My mind ca n't decide what to do, but my feet start taking me towards the wreck.
`` Travis. Oh god, Travis!'' He lifts the broken body of his son in his hands, one of his arms is bent in the wrong direction and his fingers do n't make sense. `` Travis, stay with me, buddy!'' His words are choking in his throat.
I reach the car, my hands on my head, mouth open, but I ca n't breathe. Mr. Korbel's wife Irina behind the wheel. Her face is has a single, jagged crack running from just behind her scalp to above her left eyebrow. Her eyes are not closed, and her jaw is slackened, leaving her mouth open. I vomit.
Overhead, a helicopter moves laterally too quickly.
`` Michael! Michael!'' I'm not sure how long my mother is screaming my name. At this point Mr. Korbel has seen his wife, and is screaming incoherently.
`` I- I'm so sorry.''
`` Michael!'' My mother's scream punctuates the moment and as I turn, another car lopes in my path, repeatedly mounting and dismounting the curb. The man in it was open-eyed, but loose necked.
I run inside to see my mother on her knees on the kitchen floor, screaming my name, may father's name at the body on the floor. My father's arm is twisted beneath his bulk, his eyes open and vacant, staring at nothing at the ceiling. My ears are ringing. My vision is going in and out of focus, and my mother starts beating on my father's chest. She looks at me and says something I ca n't hear, let alone understand.
`` What?'' Speech is surprising. I say the words, but do not hear them.
`` -b, make sure Deb does n't come down here!'' That's all I need to know. The ground shakes as something loud explodes. Metal comes in through the window. I call my little sister's name and run towards the steps.
There is a crayon at the bottom. Looking up, I see more crayons littering the steps, and my sister on her back, at the top of the steps. Her head is hanging at an odd angle on her neck to rest its top on the second step. Her eyes are open. Mine are crying.
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[ WP ] Suddenly , without warning , the sun just went supernova . Describe the last minutes of Earth .
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`` Michael, do n't look into the sun. You'll hurt your eyes, sweetie.''
The little boy looked down at his bare feet on the wooden deck. Uncomfortably shuffling, he looked out to sea. Dolphins leapt out of the water with triumph.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Amber walked home through the rain. She'd lost her job. Sean had broken up with her.
A voice. `` Do n't cry, darling. You have beautiful eyes.''
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
The aspiring actress took a final, long, sweeping bow and soaked in the applause.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
He drew in a shuddering breath. Today, he was going to propose.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Xander looked out through the window. *An astronaut*. His father would have been proud. He marvelled at the blue sphere...
The constant sunrise seemed to be brighter.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
With that, the earth was gone.
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[ EU ] While sitting in his chamber Darth Vader receives a guest . His name is Iroh and he brought tea , he is seeking to bring Anakin back to the light .
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`` I was looking for a young boy.''
Ten decks above them aboard the *Executor* a security room had just erupted with klaxons and a full regiment's worth of stormtroopers had just about-faced in their direction, but within Lord Vader's chambers the alarms were utterly silent. Iroh's sensitive ears could hear the steam curling from the spout of the teapot over the faint, steady hum of the great black sphere opposite the door that dominated the room.
`` Perhaps you have seen him? I will gladly share a cup with you if you can help me.''
The room trembled, the walls threatened to *bend* around the great black egg. Iroh's eyes fluttered for a moment and his grip on the teapot's worn, cracked wooden handle tightened.
`` I promise you not even Imperial Stormtroopers will be able to penetrate this chamber for quite some time, it was designed that way. Someone has wanted to keep the outside world very out indeed.''
The waves of malevolence, the black claw of invisible hate withdrew again, the room becoming silent as before for a moment. Iroh swallowed and breathed freely again as it passed. He efficiently laid out a neat cloth on the polished durasteel floor, folded his legs and poured two cups of tea; one cup he set steaming in front of him and the other he held to his lips. He wafted the steam towards his nose with a deep inhale, blew out across the hot liquid with a satisfied sigh, lifted the rim to his lips and near-whispered,
`` You can not hide in there forever, Anakin Skywalker.''
A geyser of white vapor blasted from the equator of the sphere with a sharp hiss, joined momentarily by a second, then another as white light poured through a growing, square-toothed gap. Air should not have worked that way in the sealed chamber, but Iroh could feel how the Force pushed past him like a wind and his hair blew softly back, the teacup vibrating in his hands.
From his seat on the floor Vader towered over him like one of the more ostentatious statues at the Jedi Temple. Now he could hear Vader's breathing, even reach out and feel the fortified landscape of his mind: Iroh projecting his senses out from the focus of teacup in his grasp was like running his hands over the black, unrecognizable skin of a burn victim he had healed during the Corellian Bacta Crisis. Would that Skywalker's wounds were so easy to treat as a man who is only half-dead.
Darth Vader's cape disappeared in a straight, cut black line down into the fog that swirled around his knees. Lord Vader rose from his throne, black lenses tilted down to doubly reflect the little man and his teaset within the chamber. As the initial sound of the depressurizaton died away, a fainter sound that had been growing the last few minutes finally reached a point of being noticable: a heavy laser torch hissing away at the door.
Vader's chamber was at the top of a small dais, enough that he could plant a foot and lean out over the top step, his enormous mechanically augmented body casting its long shadow over the man with the teacup. He pointed down at him,
`` *You* should have remained in the shadows, Iroh. You grasped the power of the Dark Side of the Force once, only a fool would ever release it again. My Master will be pleased to know you humiliated yourself before you died.''
Iroh sipped his tea. The inner wall of the door began to glow a faint pink.
`` Did it kill your son as well?''
Vader's scream of rage was a roar of metallic distortion. Outside the door the torch operator was thrown thirty feet down the corridor, skidding to a stop on his back as the rest of the assembled Imperial troopers were knocked down like bowling pins. Vader's stride was long enough to be like a smaller man at a run, and the black blur of his arm reaching to his side was hidden enough by the movement of his cape in a way that a normal man would have been neatly decapitated by his draw cut, the lightsaber crackling to life in answer to the man's question. Iroh lifted his knees, planted his feet and kicked off like a coiled spring: teacup still in hand he rocketed towards the room's high ceiling on a burst of flame. He landed on Vader's dais in a low kneeling crouch, almost exactly where the Sith Lord had stood a moment before, one leg cocked in front of him and an arm pinwheeled behind his back in a snakelike stance. His other arm swept in front of him, placing the teacup smoothly on the dais. The pink of the door had faded for a moment but now progressed to an angry orange color.
`` I felt taller then, too, but I could not look down to see what I was standing on.'' He flipped forward in a handspring down the stairs, Vader met him with another bull-rushing charge. The cut came from low and to the right and met Iroh's heel hammering down in an arc of orange flame as he turned in the air, the energy of the attacks exploding with a flash and crackle that turned Iroh's somersault into a midair roll. Vader swung again and again, red blade flashing while the old man weaved and parried each strike.
They were interrupted by the door's enormous motor screeching to life. Molten durasteel sloughed off the center as it began to open, pooling on the floor.
`` Lord Vader!'' voices called, `` Lord Vader are you all right?!''
`` There is one more thing I must tell you Anakin.''
They faced each other before the slowly opening door, Vader's arm raised for another blow, Iroh in a loose and shuffling dance.
The Sith Lord hesitated, Iroh's face still reflected in the soulless eyeplates of his mask.
`` When Yoda invited me to talk about my experiences to the Jedi,''
Iroh took a deep breath, curling his fists in front of his belly and with a little hop took a shallow horse stance.
`` You left before I told them how I came to be called the Dragon of Ba Sing Sei.''
The stormtroopers outside the room were flattened again as the molten steel erupted with a storm of flame from within. Iroh shot from inside like a rocket through the narrow gap, fire erupting from his fists and feet as the old sage made his escape.
The hum of the lightsaber in the silence that followed was too disappointing without cleansing, satisfying death attached. Vader silenced it and tossed the smoldering remains of his cape from his shoulders in irritation as he turned back to his throne. As he planted his foot on the first step he stopped again, looking down once more: still there was the single, nearly-full cup of tea, steam still rising slowly from within.
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[ WP ] : A doctor from the year 2217 gets thrown back in time to 2016 . She tries to make the best of it , but the world of the past is grim , the people are savage , and the medical practices are downright medieval .
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Dr. Charlotte Hargreaves woke up, baffled as to what happened. The last thing she remembered was a flash of light and the feeling she was getting pulled. She looked around and saw the world was very different from the one she knew.
She approached a news stand and looked at the paper; which she found to be odd. Newspapers have n't been in circulation for centuries. The date: November 12, 2016. A plethora of complex emotions flooded her. Fear, anxiety but for the most part curiosity. Being a doctor from 201 years in the future can bode well for the people of New York. She thought of all the advancements made in the medical field and how, with just the tools in her bag, she can save numerous lives.
`` Can you please direct me to the nearest hospital?'' she asked the clerk and he pointed up the street.
`` It's just down the road.''
She graciously smiled as she went on her way. Upon her arrival she witnessed things that she had never seen. The emergency room was loud and hectic. People we're screaming, nurses running and family members crying. In 2217 most ailments could be cured with a few drops or a quick injection. Even serious injuries were n't a big deal due to the progress of pain medication. Knowing that she could n't perform procedures legally without a license she informed the people of the waiting room, `` I may be able to help. Please meet me at the park just out side.''
Folks were skeptical. She did n't look like a local but the genuine concern led people to investigate. Her first visitor, a tall young black man, limped up to her. `` I was playing basketball. I think it's my ankle.''
`` Let me take a look,'' she said eagerly. She pulled out a sterilized syringe, drew a small amount of liquid into it and said, `` this should help.''
The young man was worried but all of her equipment looked legit. He allowed the injection. 30 seconds later he felt no pain. He watched as the swelling went down and the normal color returned. Astonished, he jumped up. `` What's in that thing?!''
`` This stuff? It's nothing but an aspirin and aloe compound. 100 % natural. Can you tell more people? I ca n't stay for long and I want to help as many people as possible.''
The young man agreed and ran to the ER. Shortly a small group of people came. The first with a rash covering most of his back. She disinfected the area and applied a cream that showed immediate results.
The 2nd was an older woman who was bald from chemo therapy. She explained that she suffered from breast cancer and has been getting increasingly worse. `` Breast cancer?'' Charlotte thought. `` Cancer has been extinct for years.'' She rummaged through her bag and found a prescription bottle with 8 pills.
`` Take this. 1 now and 1 before you go to sleep every night.'' The woman took the bottle and with a little bit of water, swallowed the pill.
`` Are you sure this will work?'' the woman asked clearly concerned, but desperate for an alternative.
`` Yes. Do not go to chemo anymore. You'll be fine.''
The third was a family. A young white couple with a child that looked to be no older than four. The child was in pain and holding his ears. `` We think it's an ear infection,'' said the husband as he handed Dr. Hargreaves the child. She comforted her, bounced her back and forth until she put 2 drops of liquid in her ear. Slowly the crying stopped, the little girl wiped her eyes and relaxed to try to sleep. Charlotte handed her back to the parents.
By this time a small crowd started to form. `` Who are you?''
She declined to answer, `` Just a good Samaritan trying to help those in need.'' As she said this more people came. Each illness different from the last. Each patient shocked by the results.
Charlotte spent hours there. People were insatiable. The crowd began to get wild. Pushing, shoving. Despite her pleas, they could n't be calmed. She explained that her supplies are running low. This caused more mayhem as some wanted to be the last patient. She tried to leave. The mob grabbed at her. She tried to pull away. The desperation turned to anger. `` WHY WO N'T YOU HELP US!''
`` I've done all I can!'' Someone tried to grabbed her bag. At this point she is terrified. Surrounded by an angry mob with very few people trying to protect her. See saw any opening and ran as fast as her legs could move. She could hear the crowd but would not look back. She almost excited the park when they caught up to her. She was pushed to the ground. She begged, `` Please! I do n't have enough!'' as she tried to crawl. Hands grabbing at her bag, arms and legs. Then....
A blinding white light flashed. When she opened her eyes she saw the young black man she helped first. `` Where are we?''
`` 2217. We're back.''
`` We're?'' she ask perplexed.
`` Yes.''
`` Who are you?''
`` Do n't ask questions. Get rested. We are leaving again tomorrow.''
`` I ca n't go back there. Those people almost killed me!''
`` We have to. There is a virus that has mutated over the passed 200 years. We have patient 0, but we have n't made progress.''
`` You have patient 0?''
At that point the a little girl walked in and said, `` My ear hurts.''
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