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[ WP ] Aliens came to invade earth , and effortlessly wipe out humanity , only to be fought off by the wildlife .
| We've made a huge mistake, and we're doomed.
When we invaded earth, we came prepared to take down humanity. We analyzed their weapons and their tactics, we hacked into their propaganda machines and spread lies of our arrival.
Humanity put up a fight but they were no match for our firepowerl. EMP bombings rendered their defenses useless. While they managed to combine their efforts for once, we managed to destroy their civilization in days. We thought we'd won the battle for this planet.
It was n't until after defeating the enemy that we first saw images of them. In an ancient tomb, we found images of the Gods that even humans feared. Superior beings, built to kill with an unrelentless drive to defeat anything that stood between them and what they wanted.
They ambushed us at night, and sneaked into our ships. They were n't picked up by the systems - as if their cloaking devices were from another millenium.
They were brutal and took no prisoners. Using their deadly weapons, they murdered us all. I now know that they made an alliance of convenience with the humans, and they were extremely upset with the death of their pets.
If you read this, it's already too late. They've figured out the launch code of our ships, although it seemed like they were randomly pushing buttons on our keyboards. They're now heading to our home planet, and they will probably end all life there to exctract revenge of us.
The signs were there. Of humankind worshipping a higher species. But we ignored it, because we only saw silly faces and lazy creaturs sleeping on objects.
[
This is the face of a predator. ] ( https: //pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/616542814319415296/McCTpH_E.jpg ) When you see it, it's already too late.
|
[ WP ] `` Do not go to sleep . ''
| Sam's eyes ached, dry and heavy, as he rocked back and forth, sitting on his sheets.
*Do not go to sleep. *
It had only been a half hour. Or had it? It seemed that only seconds had passed, and yet he was sure he'd been sitting here for hours.
*Do not go to sleep. *
Tears stung at the dry surface of his eyes, but he forced them to remain open. Each rock of his body released a shrill creak from his mattress, blending discordantly into the screams that rung in his ears. He had wanted to believe that the pills would make the voices go away. But they had only gotten worse.
*Do not go to sleep. *
He'd started out carefully counting out each pill. Each bottle, poured into a bowl, and then carefully separated. A few tylenol, a dozen Benadryl, a couple of Aspirin. Nothing that could do any real harm. Just something to shut out the demons that clawed at his mind.
*Do not go to sleep. *
The first fifteen minutes, he felt nothing. He'd studied this before. He knew exactly how many pills he could take, and still be in the clear. But it was clear he was an exception. Another fifteen minutes passed, and he still felt the voices tugging at him, stronger and louder than ever before. He began to take handfuls from the bowl. He pilfered a bottle of vodka from his parents' liquor cabinet, reminding himself that he only needed a little. He did n't want to hurt himself. He just wanted peace and quiet.
*Do not go to sleep. *
His eyelids weighed a hundred pounds each. His vision was blurred, and the walls crawled, the patterns of the peeling wallpaper beginning to swim. The room tipped, and he felt the weight of his body sinking into the memory foam. And still the voices beckoned to him.
*Do not go to sleep. *
He could have sworn the bottle clutched in his fingers had been filled to the top with the strong clear liquid that now burned his stomach and throat. But it was empty, and it fell clumsily from his hand and shattered on the ground. His eyes began to drift shut, and he felt his insides churning, a concoction of chemicals bubbling in his stomach.
*Do not go to sleep. *
His thoughts began to give way to new voices, some that he recognized, and others that he did n't. A deep, hollow voice laughed at him. A more feminine one broke through, urgent, but with no decipherable words. It reminded him of his mother. He felt desperate fingers clutching to his arms, and as his body shook, his eyes opened just enough to make out his parents' faces. Tears splashed against his skin, and before he subsided to the weight of his eyelids again, he was able to see his father, phone clutched to his ear, running his fingers through his hair and wiping wetness from his eyes. Sam had never seen his father cry.
*Do not... *
He could n't remember what he was n't supposed to do. He could n't hear his own thoughts anymore. All he heard was the deep, low grumble of the demons that were trying to claw their way out of his chest, the cackles of the ghosts in his skull, and one voice, calm and yet petrifying, uttered a single and quiet word:
*Sleep. *
He felt everything begin to fade. The voices quieted, and inside, he rejoiced. At last! He'd found a way to quiet these ever-present parasites. He gave himself over to the vacuum that pulled his mind, his body, into darkness, into the void, into silence. Sweet, beautiful, silence, the peace he had craved so desperately for so many years, the quiet that no therapist or prescription had been able to find for him. In the distant corners of his mind, there were sirens, but he ignored them, pushed them away, he yanked his consciousness further away from his very being, until there was nothing but the soft, slow thumping of his heart, each beat farther away from the last, until there were no more, there was only darkness, and three words.
*Go to sleep. *
|
[ IP ] Naval Battle
| The sloop heaved to a shuddering halt, tackle and cargo spilling out across the deck and in the hold down below, crates and glass crashing against the floor while sailors cursed and hurried to follow orders bellowed out by the bosun and quartermaster. The bowsprit had snapped from the shock of the impact, and dangled in the gray waters, held in place with tarred ropes now swirling in the drink. Faith Alathir leaned over the side of the vessel, and peered down into the swirling, bubbling foam which surrounded them.
`` What happened? Did we hit a sandbar?''
Her questions went unanswered as sailors rushed towards lockers mounted next beneath the quarterdeck, petty officers shoving cutlass and boarding pike into clamoring hands. Hilary Flint came rushing out from officer territory in the stern, his saber sheathed at his waist and his rifle loaded in his hands.
`` Faith! Stay off the edge!'' he shouted.
Faith spun about in confusion, her gaze turning towards the burnt-out remains of the dead city of Cleveland. Its surviving skyscrapers were tinged black from dragonfire and nuclear missiles, a gray haze hovering over the derelict factories and docks. The ship rocked again, throwing most to the deck yet again and producing another chorus of groans and desperate curses. Rising shakily to her hands and knees, Faith saw Flint level his rifle at her, a look of frantic determination in his eyes.
***Crack! ***
The bullet hissed by her ear, billowing past her hair over her shoulder. She instinctively followed its path, and saw just as the heavy bullet smacked into a narrow serpentine maw. More than five feet in length and arrayed with row upon row of narrow needle fangs, the bullet tore through bone and brain alike in a spray of red and purple gore from the back of its skull. The monster's head fell to the deck lifeless, its long forked tongue still wiggling about.
A cry of shock to Faith's right made her swing her head about, which was a mistake as she saw a sailor being seized about his torso and dragged wailing and screaming over the side, his comrades desperately clinging to his arms. He slipped from their grasp and vanished into the murky foam, a growing cloud of red staining the spot.
Towards the bow two of the serpents fought over a topman's body, ripping him in half as they quarreled, his intestines and organs splattering to the deck. Flint emptied his magazine into the pair, his boots squelching on the dead man's guts. Another sea serpent reared back to strike but Flint had already flipped his rifle about and slammed the buttstock against the beast's snout like a club. Fang and sensitive bone shattered under the blow, and the serpent slunk backwards, disappearing into the waters.
`` Great,'' Faith heard Flint mutter as he ejected the spent magazine and shoved home a fresh one. `` Fucking Lake Erie Monsters... Fuck God and his great fucking jokes. First griffins in Grand Rapids and now this shit...''
|
[ WP ] You just died and realize that you 're in heaven . You lock eyes with someone you never knew in this life , but intuitively , you know this person as your soulmate in countless past lives . She/he says , `` Well ... what do you have to say for yourself ? ''
| “ Well? ” She said.
She was so beautiful it was distracting. I looked down and toed the dirt in front of me. It sparkled with flecks of gold.
She held out her info sheet for me to see. It was similar to mine: identification details, photo, summaries of past lives, etc. And at the bottom, another photo and a name.
It was my high school graduation photo, one of the better ones. I looked down at my own sheet. Her photo was clearly a professional head shot. She looked exactly the same, whereas I had taken on a slightly older version of myself in this place.
“ Every life, ” she said, her finger on the paper, “ this says that in every single one of them we were destined to be soulmates. And yet I died countless times, never having found a true partner. How is that possible? ”
Her eyes were filling, and all I wanted to do was hold her.
“ It, ” I stammered, “ It followed me through all my lives. ”
“ What? What followed you? ”
“ I can ’ t really describe it now. It doesn ’ t exist here. In fact, I think its absence is what made me realize I was in heaven. ”
She shook her head a little in confusion.
“ I ’ m sorry, ” I said. I pointed at my photo. “ I never made it past this age, in any of my lives. It always took hold around that time and I could never beat it. I have never lived a full life. I ’ m so sorry, ” I said again. “ Maybe if I had known you were in my future, I would have made different decisions.''
She touched my arm and it filled me with warmth. It filled the places that had once only held darkness, and I realized that I had never known love, in any life. I know people had loved *me*, but the darkness was always stronger.
She took my hand. “ So, ” she said gently, “ it ’ s gone now? ”
I nodded, having no words to describe it further.
She smiled and took my other hand. “ Well, ” she said, “ we ’ re here now. ”
I nodded again and returned her smile. She held my gaze for a moment.
“ Okay. ” She squeezed my hands. “ Let ’ s get started.''
|
[ WP ] From the depths of the Pacific Ocean , the city of Atlantis contacts the rest of humanity after being underwater for more than 9000 years .
| *Note: I'm going to loosely interpret `` underwater'' here to mean `` beneath the ocean''. Also, I'm going to go for a slightly earlier point in the chronology than suggested by the prompt. Because.
Suddenly it popped out at me. I *had* to find someone for a sanity check.
`` *Quick, Jim! Does this signal pattern look familiar to you? *''
`` What? Well, recently I've been examining how far the vibrations go when your tunneling v --''
`` *Yes, exactly! *''
`` -- and it looks a lot like that, I guess. What's the timescale?''
`` Two years.''
`` Well, that's definitely a lot longer than the timescale I usually look at. What's it from?''
`` You know the five recent earthquakes that were on the news last week...''
`` The ones you mentioned your advisor told you to look at? Lined up in a weird pentagon?''
`` Five *simultaneous* earthquakes, with hypocenters in a *nearly perfect* pentagon, yeah, out near New Zealand. Well, I just found out that if you account for all the noisy echoes that earthquakes make, and clean them up --''
`` -- you get these? Are you serious?''
`` Yeah, I must have checked it more than ten times. *They all line up perfectly. *''
`` Well, that's pretty strange. Sounds oddly artificial.''
`` You know what's weirder? If you trace a direct line through the center of the Earth, you emerge in the Mediterranean, right near the Aegean Sea.''
``... OK...?''
I watched Jim think about this for a moment.
`` Wait!'Emerge' huh? You're suggesting --''
`` *Yes? *''
`` You're suggesting that this is... Atlantis? And it's an entire city which is also a giant vehicle...''
`` Trivially capable of tunneling through the Earth's mantle and core, and it's finally emerging on the other side *right now! *''
`` You're insane, friend. Completely bonkers.''
|
[ WP ] Canada is under attack and has to call their last line of defence , if they can find them . They are : The Eh Team .
| `` They ca n't be on a smoke break now!''
`` Unfortunate, I know,'' Defense Minister Sajjan stuttered. `` But they could be back any -- -''
Prime Minister Trudeau banged his fists on the conference table. `` It's their fourth one today!''
Sajjan began to sweat. The Great White North was in a perilous situation, and they were the only two in this meeting. Who'd have thought there would be aliens in his lifetime? To make matters worse, they chose Canada as their area-one invasion grounds. Canada! Not the country just south of them the rest of the world hated, but the big, quiet bunch of trees just north of the United States.
`` What do they even want from us?'' asked Trudeau.
Sajjan thought for a moment. `` The Toronto Maple Leafs?''
`` No, they'd have taken Toronto otherwise. They must be after the Canucks.''
Sajjan snorted. `` Not a chance. We can rule out hockey teams then. What about our maple syrup?''
`` Or our national pride and joy, the collection of international hockey awards our national teams have brought in every year?''
`` Mr. Prime Minister, we have n't -- -''
`` *Every* year.''
`` They are n't after our national pride sir. Again, the extra-terrestrials would have landed in Toronto.''
`` Sajjan, the Leafs have n't won a championship in 49 years.''
`` And the Canucks have never won a championship. They *gave* the Americans the Stanley cup those last three times they made the finals!''
Trudeau raised his voice. `` You take that back!''
Sajjan stood up to the challenge, his chair crashing behind him. `` Just like how we are going to end up *giving* Canada to these aliens unless we do something!''
`` We *would, *'' Trudeau shouted, `` if your team were not taking a smoke every twenty minutes!''
`` I'll cross check you through the window if you take another smack at my boys!''
`` Time for yer summer teeth you feckin' tool!''
`` Going to knock yours out first you Canuck hoser!''
Trudeau launched himself at the Defense Minister. The two Canadian leaders grappled on the conference floor, slinging fists and insults until the conference door slammed open.
`` The invasion is over!'' cried Minister of Foreign Affairs Dion.
Sajjan's fist froze before it collided with the Prime Minister. `` Was it you?''
`` No, it was your Eh Team!''
The Defense Minister grunted under Trudeau's kick. Now that the Prime Minister was free, he brushed off his suit and found his place again at the conference table. Having established some personal decorum ( and taken a cheap shot any hockey player could admire ), he cleared his throat.
`` How is this possible?'' he asked simply
Dion took a seat at the other end. `` I do n't know. One moment we see several armed extra-terrestrials unloading in Stanley Park, bristling with weapons and preparing to take over Vancouver. Then your boys showed up and -- -''
`` Annihilated them?!'' shouted Sajjan eagerly.
Dion looked to the Defense Minister, then back to the Prime Minister, and coughed. `` No. They're kicking it with beers in the park.''
Trudeau blinked. `` What?''
`` One of our boys rented a bus and are taking a few of them out for a rip on Whistler.''
Sajjan shrugged. `` Well the powder's pretty fresh this week.''
`` But what are they *doing* at the park now?!'' Trudeau asked.
`` Playing hockey last I heard. Whether it's for our survival or just for fun, I ca n't say. The boys even emptied the shops so the aliens could wear one set of jerseys, and our Eh Team the other.''
`` Which ones?'' The question came from both ministers.
Dion looked to the two of them. `` What do you mean?''
Sajjan spoke first. `` Which jerseys are the Eh Team wearing?''
Dion told them.
Sajjan smirked. `` Knew it. See, our victory is guaranteed now, would n't you -- -''
Trudeau did n't give the Defense Minister a chance to finish his comment, having launched himself for a second round. Dion only shook his head and did what any Canadian would have done in his unique position;
Kick back, pop open a beer from the conference room fridge, and wait for all this to blow over.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
*More at r/galokot, and thanks for reading! *
|
[ WP ] `` Toil ! Toil and prove your innocence to the Revolution through sweat and blood , princess ! ''
| `` You said that?'' Enzo, my supervisor asked.
I nodded. `` Yeah, Dude! You should have heard me on the'toil'! I fucking *nailed* that shit. I was like... you know, it was just like we talked about at orientation. Ownership of the role. I *owned* it.''
`` And she just said,'ugh'?''
`` Yeah. Just... you know, it was more like,'uuurgh!', you know? Lower, and more kinda... I dunno. Bored?''
Enzo frowned. `` Bored?''
I seesawed one hand. `` Somewhere between bored and just *totally* unimpressed.''
`` Unimpressed?'' He sounded stern.
I held up my hands defensively. `` Look, I was n't skimping out there -''
`` I believe you,'' he said, `` I beli-''
`` I showed her the Hole, I showed her the Pits, I showed her Chain Alley. I showed her the -''
Enzo put a hand comfortingly on my shoulder. `` I believe you,'' he said. `` It's fine. We're not about blame here. It's OK.''
I sagged down into my chair. `` I just could n't get through to her. You know what she said, when I showed her Hobbled Pete?''
`` Tell me,'' Enzo said, pouring me a cup of tea.
I sighed. `` I showed him Hobbled Pete, right? I told her,'this is what we do to people who do n't work. This leg, right here? This was Enzo. This leg right here? That was me. Look at him. That could be *you. *''
`` Did you say it like that?'' he asked. ``'Cause that was really good.''
`` *Exactly* like that. Maybe even better. I was on *point*, man. I was in the fucking zone. You know what she said?''
Enzo handed the tea over. `` Tell me,'' he said.
`` She said,'That's nothing. You should try Aspen in tourist season'. I just... I do n't know what to do? Halfway through my'mountains of despair' speech, she interrupted to tell me that she did n't get an S-Class for her birthday, even though her father knew she wanted one. What the fuck's an S-Class?''
Enzo gave me a brief hug. `` It's OK, dude,'' he said. `` It's OK. I'll deal with this one myself. Drink your tea.''
He cracked his knuckles and left. The tea was sweet and strong. I cast my eyes over the mines. Everywhere, the strongest and toughest men and women of the nations of the world continued their backbreaking work. The door opened, and Enzo returned.
`` Wow,'' he said, in a low voice. `` That girl just does not give a *fuck*.''
|
[ WP ] The dragons who hoard teeth have been feuding with the tooth fairies for the past century . You 've finally found something that will tip the scales .
| **The Teeth We've Lost**
Billy showed up at the bus stop looking grim.
`` What's the matter?'' I asked.
He frowned and shook his head. His red hair bounced and blew in the wind. The gap in his teeth, where his most recent tooth had come free, caught my eye.
`` Well,'' I said. `` Did you get bank from the Tooth Fairy, or what?''
Gina Parsons wandered over, hands clasped behind her back. She wore a blue dress that matched the color of the ribbons tying up her pigtails.
`` Beat it, cooties,'' I told her.
She stuck her tongue out, but she left us alone.
`` Well,'' I prompted Billy.
His cheeks were red like his hair and he practically growled his response. `` I do n't wan na talk about it.''
I shook my head, but did n't protest. Billy was known for being one of the moodiest kids in the entire first grade.
The bus showed up a minute later anyway. I followed Billy up the steps into the rumbling, smelly schoolbus. Our portly bus driver, Miss Rudibaker, grinned at us as we shuffled past.
Billy went halfway along the length of the bus and then ducked into an empty seat. I slid into the seat beside him, glancing over my shoulder at all those empty seats at the back of the bus. Those were primo seats, but if we sat back there, then when the older kids got on in a few stops they would pick on us and call us names until we moved. Stupid fifth and sixth graders. I shook my head. They all think their such hot poop.
The bus roared away from our stop. Billy stared out the window. I figured if he wanted to talk about it, he'd eventually let me in on whatever was bothering him.
Finally, after we'd been riding for five minutes or so, Billy turned to me. Handed me a slip of paper.
`` What's this?'' I asked.
`` Read it,'' he said, face still grim.
I unfolded the note and scanned the contents. When I finished, I had to go back to the top and read it over again. Could this be true?
The note said, in effect, that Billy's tooth had been taken and thank you very much, and if he was expecting something left in return, coins or dollars or whatever we humans liked, that he'd have to get used to disappointment.
*We're not the Tooth Fairies*, read the note.
*We're the new guys in town ( so to speak ) *.
*We do n't leave payment. We simply take what belongs to us. *
*Tell your friends*, the note encouraged. *The Dragons Who Hoard Teeth are here, and we're here to stay. *
I stared at the note for long moments, then I looked at Billy. `` Is this...''
`` True?'' He shrugged. The poor kid looked tired. Beaten. `` Maybe. Maybe not. All I found under my pillow this morning was that note. No money.'' He sighed, looked away. `` No nothing.''
`` You know what this means?'' I asked.
Face long, he turned back towards me. `` What?''
`` It means there's a war going on. For our teeth, right now.''
He narrowed his eyes. `` Yeah. So?''
`` So? If these dragons'' -- I shook the note in my hand --'' win, then I bet we'll never see another penny for our teeth.'' I raised my hand to my jaw, felt my teeth through the skin of my cheeks. I'd lost less than half of my so-called baby chompers. `` I do n't know about you, but I'm not okay with that.'' I was growing agitated. I raised my voice. `` Are you okay with that?''
Gina Parson rose up from the seat in front of us and looked down. `` What are you guys talking about?''
`` Shut it, cooties,'' I snapped. She sank down out of sight.
I lowered my voice and repeated my question to Billy. `` Are you cool with that? No more money for your teeth?''
He shook his head.
`` Those are your teeth,'' I told him. `` That's your money. You deserve it.''
`` So,'' he said, after a time, `` what can we do?''
`` I'll tell you what we're gon na do. We're gon na make sure the Tooth Fairies win this war.''
`` How are we gon na do that?''
The bus rumbled and swayed as we turned into the school parking lot.
`` I'll tell you how.'' I made a fist with my right hand and slammed it into my open left hand. `` We need to find the Tooth Fairies. And then offer to help.''
Billy looked doubtful. `` But what can we do? These are dragons we're talking about.''
The bus pulled up to the curb, shuddered to a stop.
`` We have to try,'' I told my friend. `` The Tooth Fairies will know what to do. We just need to figure out how to get in touch with them.''
Kids were standing up, strapping on backpacks. At the front of the bus, the first few seats were emptying into the aisle, stomping down the stairs.
`` Hey, losers.'' From the seat behind us, Nick Brimley's ugly face was staring down at us. Nick was in third grade, although he should have been in fourth. He'd been held back and had to do second grade twice. He liked to pick his nose and the eat the boogers in order to gross other kids out.
`` What?'' asked Billy. I told Nick, `` We're not losers.''
`` The Tooth Fairy is n't real. It's just your stupid cheap-o parents.'' He shook his head. `` You two losers are dumb.''
`` Yeah, like failing second-grade is n't dumb?'' Billy snapped.
Nick Brimley growled and showed us his fist and scrunched up his face, making his nostrils look super big. `` What'd you say, you little first grade baby?''
`` Come on,'' I said, tugging on Billy's sleeve. It was our turn to go.
`` That's right,'' called Nick, behind us. `` Run away, little babies.''
`` Ignore him,'' I told Billy, as we thumped down the bus's steps and out onto the sidewalk. `` He's probably an agent of the dragons.''
We hurried up the walk to the school entrance, discussing our plans for making contacting with the Tooth Fairies and helping them defeat the tooth-hoarding dragons. Not only would the money begin flowing again once the Fairies were victorious, but Billy and I imagined that we would be rewarded richly for our efforts.
***
Now, glancing over at the weary eyes of my friend, I remember that warm spring day, so long ago. The day that the war between the dragons and the Tooth Fairies landed in our laps, by way of a simple note left underneath Billy's pillow.
Three years later, with no end to the conflict in sight, I often reflect on everything that we've lost.
Across the room, Gina Parsons is watching me. At the front of the class, Mrs. Lomax is writing math equations on the board. Gina smiles, that sweet crooked smile of hers.
We've lost a lot, these last three years. I smile back at Gina. She looks away, blushing. But we've also gained something, too.
And one day, I think, trying to focus on Mrs. Lomax's lesson, this war will be over. I tongue the loose tooth in my mouth. My only remaining baby tooth.
THE END
|
[ WP ] This is the prologue ( or the first chapter ) of the novel you 've always wanted to write .
| This is all I got so far. Not sure where to go from here. I will post it on my site http: //swordsnstuff.net/ so you can comment on it there as well.
It was day four of their trek, sleeping days and traveling at night so as not to be caught sleeping by any nocturnal predators. There were two full moons out tonight with the third a sliver of a crescent, and their path through the clearing towards the upcoming tree line was amiably illuminated. They had not spoken a word to each other for four nights, as their senses have been on alert for any unknown dangers that may lurk their way. No one knows what lies in Pythe Hills, as there is no record of anyone returning from a visit to “ the darks ”.
They had been following the scent of smoke for a while now, and were approaching denser forest. We could be close. It had been an underwhelmingly uneventful journey so far, not even an encounter with one of the many deadly beasts thought to traverse these isolated lands, and this was the first sign of life they had found. They froze and crouched in unison. The crackle and pop of a campfire could be heard just ahead as they stalked forward. The smaller man, who was not small in stature in the least, hunched low over his crossbow as he inched forward while his partner, a tall, hulking individual, pulled his battle-axe from his hip mount and kept an upright stance as he distanced himself from his ally.
They came upon the fire in a small clearing, tended by a diminutive figure sitting over it in hooded robes. They watched its keeper from their vantage points for a short time, and seeing no movement the large man went forward.
“ Vern! ” he was whisper yelling.
“ Yeah, I know ” he spoke in his deep booming tone “ I ’ ve been itchin ’ for blood for a while now and morg be damned if I let you have all the fun again, Creek. ”
“ Hey mister! ” Vern called out, smiling “ You know where I can find a sleazehouse around here? I got ta spray somethin ’ fierce! ” he thrusted the air a few times, in a universal gesture to get his point across. The robes didn ’ t stir. “ Heeeeyyyyy, you ’ re not a girl under there, are ya ’? “ He said coyly “ I promise I ’ ll be gentle. ” Creek closed in behind him keeping a watchful eye out as Vern lifted the hood, revealing the skull of a much decomposed corpse, maggots squirming through the eyeholes and a long black krellworm stretching from the left nasal cavity through a gap where a tooth was missing. Maybe in a childhood accident or a bar fight, Vern surmised as he dropped the hood back over the skull with a disappointed grimace.
“ Uhhhhh sorry, not my type. ”
An abrupt gust of wind whipped the flames into a frenzy, as the corpse unexpectedly leapt into the air. Vern bounded aside keeping Creek on the opposite side of the creature, surrounding it while watching his partners back. Floating in place with limbs swaying unnaturally like some kind of grotesque marionette being handled with inexperience; it spoke to them in a phantom chorus of horrid whispers:
“ Whaaaat seeeeeeeek yooooouuuuu? ”
“ We request an audience… with Hela. ” Creek yelled over the still roaring winds. He stood straight up, bow pointed straight at the carcass ’ skull while the flames intensified between them. Vern lowered his axe, not expecting much more than talk to occur here, as Creek could be very convincing at times.
“ Yoooouuuu seeeeeek deeeaaaattthhhh. ”
“ We ’ ll find no such think here, demon, now grant us an audience or it ’ s the axe fer ya ’. ” Vern yelled as his smile widened, raising his axe back up in anticipation. The corpse stayed silent, hood still covering his decaying skull. Vern imagined it was scowling in disapproval when the fire blew out, darkening the forest again.. Creek immediately stowed his crossbow and lit a flame bolt in hope of some visibility. It wasn ’ t much, but at least he could see slightly beyond arm ’ s reach; he passed it to Vern and lit another. As Vern took the “ torch ” he mounted his axe, an enormous single headed weapon with an iron block at the butt to be used as a bludgeon, onto his hip. He slid his fingers through his trusty knucks, an iron knuckle guard with pyramid-shaped spikes protruding out towards anyone unlucky enough to be within reach, while Creek pulled out one of his trusted daggers. The wind had stopped, leaving an unnerving silence, as their conversation partner had disappeared without a trace. They stood back-to-back, ready for battle for what seemed like an eternity.
“ Guess he was all talk, eh? ” Vern whispered.
“ Not enough talk. We still don ’ t- “
|
[ WP ] We were born together . We have lived together . We will die together .
| > The Shadow Sibling Initiative had been controversial for as long as it had been in the private sphere; it was the type of thing whispered between professionals or spoken about behind thick corporate doors. Two children, with parents on each other's good sides, implanted with kill switches that the other, and only the other, had access to.
>
> Born in close proximity to each other, genes projected and tweaked to ensure long and fruitful lives, and separated. Told their situation but nothing about the other subject, and monitored inside sterile -- yet strangely inviting -- living quarters. Educated, fed, well-dressed, yet their only interaction being with a team of nerds behind soundproof walls of glass.
> The public was entirely unaware of the initiative, yet...
My brain trailed off. My autobiography would have to wait, but the intro would be some killer exposition. Technically I was n't supposed to know anything about the situation I was in either. But given enough time in an empty room, and some late nights with a particularly chatty, stocky ginger scientist with thick-rimmed glasses, you learn some things from inside the rat's cage.
A pair of kids given a button to end the other's life and expected never to act on their impulses, and I apparently knew more about this girl than she did about me. Andrea, a freckly 19-year-old with brunette hair and intense grey eyes; A wanna-be photographer, given a Polaroid camera and as much film as she wanted. According to Gingie, she had apparently threatened my life multiple times in fits of rage while I was reading a book, or making myself some dinner.
Now, that's not to say I did n't use my partner in science as a bargaining chip once in a while, but I do n't think I'd have the gall to end another person's life over not getting what I want. But things took a turn when I got a small note slipped through a vent in my room. Expecting it to be a test, I unfolded the small, yet rigid piece of paper.
A polaroid photo dropped out with unexpected weight, landing face-down on the floor. On the other side, a pair of intense grey eyes staring directly into my soul, locks of curly brown mop flopping down over the sides of a surprisingly cute face with freckles dotting the surface. In her mouth, a button; My button. Her fingers seemed to play over it and flirt with the idea of pressing it and getting the experiment over with.
Looking back at the vessel for the photo, I noticed small handwriting on it; Among the scribbles and doodles on the paper were six words, with swooping tails and i's dotted with hearts, the scrawling of a teenage girl;
> `` I want to die; do n't you?''
I'd have to tell someone about the note. I could n't not. I scrambled over to my desk to find a piece of a paper to send a note back. I wrote the first thing that came to mind.
> `` Give me 24 hours, and press the button.''
I crumpled the paper, and tossed it back through the vent when I made sure no one was watching.
The next 24 hours were the fastest I got to know someone in my entire life, though I had n't known many people. Notes sent back and forth furtively, spending most of my waking hours by the side of a vent. She had always wanted to be a photographer, and the camera was her outlet, her muse, creating stories with what she had. I was a lot less directed, and apparently a lot less interesting in her eyes.
Time ticked on, and I realized we were nearing showtime. I wrote one last scribbled note.
>'' 30 seconds from now, press the button. We'll see what happens.''
Those 30 seconds passed like an eternity, but as I snapped the button into its on position it began to blink. I felt a release from deep within my body, figuring it to be some sort of toxin to lure me out of the mortal coil. Things began to fade quickly as I felt a strange tingling sensation come over me. As my eyes began to close, I saw the words over the observation port:
> `` The experiment is over. Thank you for your cooperation.''
EDIT: This is my first WP response, please give any feedback or criticism you'd like.: )
And I've just realized I totally could have made this story about /r/thebutton. I'm going to choose not to.
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[ WP ] During a traumatic experience , a young child is kept safe by an unlikely source - the terrifying monster that lives in the child 's closet
| `` Put your hands on your head and get on the ground!'' roared the intruder, holding the entire family of three at gunpoint on their knees. `` I want everything you have.''
Emily's father was shaking with fear, her mother was shaking with fear... and eight year old Emily was shaking too.
The intruder began smashing the kitchen and dining room up, loading the entire jar of change into a bag, before heading into the living room. After half an hour of stealing everything worth something in downstairs, he headed up the staircase.
`` What do we do?'' asked Emily's mother to her husband, several times.
`` I do n't know.'' he answered.
She shook her head.
The man soon came back into the room, and grabbed Emily by the hand, dragging her to her room.
Once they were in there, he asked where he kept her necklaces, bracelets and other such things. She did n't answer. He punched her repeatedly, until she let out their location.
A gust of wind hit the back of the intruder's head. He spun around, throwing a punch. It hit nothing. The closet door was open.
`` What the hell?'' he muttered.
A low growl began emanating from beneath the bed. A huge jolt of fear rose up in his stomach as he knelt down and seen bright, red eyes staring at him. They felt like they pierced his eyes, and funneled their way into his head.
He screamed as the creature crawled out towards him on four legs and rose up, standing bipedal at at least 7 foot. It let out a high pitched roar, that made the thief collapse onto knees.
`` Please... no...'' he begged, over and over and over.
The creature lifted up his wrinkled arm, and swooped down with is inch-long talons, slitting the thief's stomach open. Blood sprayed everywhere, as mother and father ran in through the door.
The robber gargled, blood coming out through his mouth. His eyes began to flicker shut, as the creature bit into his throat and began to swallow him whole.
Mr. Cuddles, Emily's best friend and guardian angel who lived in the closet had saved her - and would again, many times.
( I have a feeling this is bad, because i've written better stuff >. > )
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[ WP ] You “ discover ” a very well-known species in the wild . Study and describe it as if it ’ s never been seen before now .
| I ran, terrified, scared to the bone of the incessant noise that followed me everywhere I went, trying it's hardest to kill me. Clutching my notebook, I leaped over logs and rocks, moss squishing beneath my feet and occasionally endeavouring to trip me to what I figured would be certain death. I had no idea what it was that was following me, but I knew it wanted me...
I had been out in the forest, doing things that amature scientists normally do on a day off. I'd signed up for the expedition a few months earlier, boarded a plane in Germany, and flown here. The island was remote, densely populated with plant life and animals. My nine man, three dog, and one cat team had encountered almost entirely standard creatures on the island. It was the usual food chain one might expect on a deserted spot of land that laid untouched for thousands of years. A small, clear stream ran through the center of the island, no more than 10 feet at its widest point and running at an even depth of five or six feet.
The island itself was about four square miles, just enough room that it was impossible to get totally lost in the daytime but large enough to contain a fascinating ecosystem. I had been out in the evening, just before heading back to camp for the night, when I came across a path made by consistent animal use. I walked along the path, the occasional bird or monkey squawking at me from the trees above me that provided ample cover from the dwindling sunlight above. Suddenly, as fast as a flood but barely noticeable at first, a buzzing started to sound around me... A humming, almost a growling from above me in the trees.... I had the occasional pesky bug following me, other than that not a living creature had kept it's eye on me for more than it deemed necessary.
This however... This was different. It hunted as a pack, chasing me down through the forest as daylight faded away. I could n't escape it, it followed me, trying to catch me. If it caught me, I was sure it would kill me, sucking out every last bit of life I had in the most painful way possible.
A log appeared out of nowhere, the remnant of a once majestic tree now threatened my life. I lifted my foot instantly, a reflex that simply happens. My foot cleared the log, my other leg however was late on the draw, and I had the sensation of falling towards the wet ground. My face landed on the cool earth, for an instant the only sound being the thumping of my heart. Then they hit me, like a swarm of demons from hell out to claim my soul. They covered me from head to toe, I slapped at my back, my neck, my arms, every part of me that they covered. Every time I cleared part of my body, they would return in force an instant later, it was unavoidable.
And oh, the pain, the horror of every little one of those creatures instantly inserting their horrendous long straw of death into my skin, through my clothes, every inch of my body. It stung, it burned, it itched, I could n't avoid it, I could n't escape. They sucked, they pried, they attacked relentlessly. Thousands of them, what felt like millions, constantly buzzing their paper wings as they each drank their fill of my blood, my soul.
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[ WP ] It 's 2070 , you are 90 years old . Kids these days have implants which allow them perfect memory . Tell your grandkids what the world was like when people could forget .
| `` Grandma, why do you forget so much?''
`` Forgetting is something that people my age do. You guys will never have to forget. It is n't a choice we made. Back in 2020... or maybe it was 2030... years ago they announced the implant. Nobody thought it would go anywhere. Next thing you know implants are mandatory at birth, and you guys do n't have to forget like I do.''
`` Could we forget if we wanted to?''
`` I do n't think so, dear. Usually I do n't choose to forget. It just sort of happens to people. Little things slip your mind, like where you put the remote... where is the remote?''
`` On the end table, Grandma.''
`` Yes, that's right. Thank you.''
`` But if people only forget little things why does n't Grandpa remember us?''
`` Well... sometimes people forget big things too. Usually not on purpose. Some people just... they forget more than others. It could n't be helped back then. But Grandpa still loves you, just as much as I do, do n't forget that.''
`` We wo n't.''
`` Of course.''
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[ WP ] Earth was created as a entertainment show for immortal aliens , all living things on the earth to duel it out with the survivors being given the secret of immortality . Against the mighty tigers , ferocious sharks and deadly rhino 's nobody expected some naked ape to become this advanced .
| `` I got ta hand it to ya Tom,'' the big, brutish alien muttered through clouds of cigar smoke, `` We all doubted ya, but it seems like you picked some real winners here...''
Tom `` Four Eyes'' Dillinger gave a mock smile as he took in the situation around him. He was surrounded in a complete circle by angry, and now utterly broke, Kornoth's. The red, striped creatures were two thousands pounds of pure muscle, and judging by the way they barred their fangs at him they were *not* happy.
`` At first we could n't believe it,'' the big alien, whose name Tom recalled to be Al, continued, `` When those naked apes came across that land bridge on to *our* continent, we figured the saber toothed tiger would have it in for them.''
Tom smiled as he recalled the memory of that episode. It had taken an entire Federation garrison to put down the Kornothian riots after it had been announced that the saber toothed tiger had been put to extinction by the apes.
`` But flukes happen,'' Al said wistfully, as beside him one of the other Kornothians began to pull out various blunt instruments, and slapped them into their hands menacingly. `` Do n't get me wrong, you're a smart guy, but we still had tigers of all sorts all over Asia who had done relatively fine among the apes. So yeah, we figured it was a fluke.''
Tom's three eyes flicked up to glance at the single T.V. playing in the empty bar. On the screen was a human, or an ape as the Kornothians liked to call them, accepting the prize of immortality for his species. The moment they had set foot on another planet, the contest had been called. Although by that point the human's victory had been assured for at least two millennia.
`` But that...'' Al gestured towards the televison, `` Do n't look like no fluke. Does it?''
`` All of life is a fluke,'' Tom shrugged, trying to act in his normal, carefree manner. `` You get some chemicals here, a bit of energy there, and boom you've got life. What can you do about it?''
The crack of something hard slamming into Tom's inverted knee sac echoed throughout the bar, and with an anguished cry he collapsed to the floor.
`` This was the longest running contest since the beginning of time,'' Al mused, `` Everyone had something vested in it by this point. Four billion years of life on that world, and the highest odds this quadrant has ever seen.''
Tom tried to rise to his feet, but collapsed in pain as he realized his knee sac had ruptured from the blow. `` What the hell do you want me to do A-''
He was cut off by the red hot pain of something sharp piercing his exoskeleton, and twisting around like the sting of a Ravarian Flying Barb.
`` I do not like getting interrupted, Tom.'' Al hissed, `` Now let me finish.''
All Tom could do was whimper in response.
`` As I was saying. Four billion years, infinitely many chances for life to arise in that time, but each time every budding intelligence, every potential victor, was wiped out in some cataclysm after they spent millions of years developing.''
Tom nodded, seeing where this was going.
`` And then, a mere sixty-five million years after the last mass extinction, two hundred thousand years after their appearance, and about 11,700 years after the end of the world's last ice age they are walking on another planet. A journey that should have taken hundreds of millions of years, done in a couple thousand. Is n't that quite a *fluke? *'' Al was practically spitting with anger by the end of this tirade.
`` I've asked you once,'' Tom snarled, `` And now I'll ask again. What. The hell. Do. You. Want?''
`` I know you rigged the competition.'' Al whispered, `` Flew over there during some intermission and gave them a nice head start.''
`` You're delusional,'' Tom shot back, `` They did it on their own.''
Al glared at Tom for a brief moment, before shrugging his huge shoulders and nodding towards one of his goons.
`` Maybe if you'd given your precious tigers opposable thumbs and the ability to walk on two legs like you guys can, we would n't be here!'' He cried out as another blunt weapon struck his already ruptured knee sack.
Another blow came from the side, and another from his back. `` Instead you had to take the best parts of yourself, remove them, and leave only the worst but multiplied ten fold! It was a stupid killing machine!''
The hits suddenly ceased as Al put his face within an inch of Tom's. `` Are you insulting me? Do you want to die here?''
`` You're going to kill me anyway,'' Tom yelled, `` I'll be damned if I go down whimpering for my life.''
Al nodded as if he respected that, and pulled a knife made from a Tarken-Olin alloy. It gleamed red as if in anticipation of his blood, and Tom sighed as he took comfort in the fact that a knife like that would end him quickly at the very least.
But instead of striking him down, Al used the knife to cut away Tom's body suit. The cool air inside the bar bit at his bruised and lacerated exoskeleton as it was exposed, but all Tom could think about were the tattoos on his back.
`` Well, well, well...'' Al laughed, `` Those are mighty fine *pyramids* you have on your back there.''
Tom laid his face down into the floor, as Al continued to laugh.
`` Hey Dwight!'' Al yelled out, `` Were n't the apes known for their fancy *pyramids? *''
`` Sure as hell were,'' a voice replied.
`` Well then, I think we found our connection,'' Al sighed as his laughter died down.
`` Do you want my money?'' Tom asked, `` Do you want me to admit that I rigged the contest? To doom humanity to the galactic incinerator?''
`` No! Of course not,'' Al said, shaking his head, `` Well maybe the money. We'll take seventy five percent of your winnings. I think that's a fair trade for keeping your secret.''
If he had a choice, Tom would've told Al where he could go shove all of his canine teeth. But he did not have a choice, and twenty five percent of the prize was still an ungodly sum.
`` Okay,'' Tom said, and Al's goons lifted him to his feet. But they did not escort him out, and instead sat him down in front of Al who had now grown serious.
`` What else do you want?'' Tom asked.
`` I want to know how you did it,'' Al asked, `` How you advanced a species at ten times the regular pace. Share that secret with me, and I'll let you live instead of passing that twenty five percent on to your kids.''
`` Why do you want to know?'' Tom asked, the acid in his digestive tube rolling violently.
`` Because,'' Al smiled as he glanced up at the television, `` Those'humans' are something else. I ca n't even begin to think of what your method would do for *us. *''
Tom's three eyes went wide as he realized what they meant, and what they wanted. All around him the goons had stopped laughing, their minds lost in fantasies of glory for their stupid, brutish species.
`` No,'' Tom choked out.
Al pulled out the knife, and place it inches from the small blue dot that sat above his other three eyes.
`` Your fourth eyes is a magical thing Tom,'' Al said, `` Some shit with your genes, you're the only one of your kind that has it, right?''
Tom nodded.
`` And it allows you to see the future right?''
`` Only blurry visions,'' Tom choked.
`` And what do you see then? Al asked, `` What do you see in the future? Are you alive? Or are you dead?''
Tom grew deathly still as he realized that he was alive in the future his fourth eye could see.
`` I'm alive,'' he muttered.
`` Good!'' Al clapped Tom on the back as he livened up, `` Then it seems if your mind is already made up. So go ahead and tell me.''
Tom tried to be strong, but knew he would chose life over this secret.
`` Tell me,'' Al growled, dropping to a serious expression again, `` Tell me how to become human.''
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Did you like this story? Check out my other stuff over at r/Niedski! I post all of my stories there!
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[ WP ] : `` But the most curious thing is that humans do n't have a mating season . They just act really weird all year round . ''
| `` I read this book back in college,'' Carl said to me. He kept one hand on the steering wheel as he let the smoke and ash of his cigarette blow out on the wind. `` *The Descent of Woman*, by Elaine Morgan. You heard of it?''
I watched his hair flutter around his cheeks and thought about how he was due for a haircut, then turned my eyes back to the rush of empty road and scrubland passing us by. `` Nope. You know I was never much of a reader.''
`` Ah. Well, you know, it's about the evolution of man - humankind - but from a feminist perspective.'' He breathed out clouds of smoke and they swirled around the car, carried by the convection currents, before being swept out the window.
`` Feminist evolution?'' I snickered, and leaned back and closed my eyes for a bit. `` How does that make sense? It's, like - It's a scientific thing, is n't it? Like the water cycle. Like gravity. How can that be feminist?''
`` Gravity?'' Carl said, and I opened my eyes to see him looking at me bemused again, like a pet that had just done a trick. `` Sharon, what are you even talking about? What kind of comparison is that?''
`` Oh, I do n't know,'' I said, and leaned back in my seat. `` I'm not a scientist, Carl. You know that. So whatever. Tell me what she said.''
He took one last draw on his cigarette and then flicked the butt out the window, a tiny floating spark swept away on the wind. `` Her whole thesis was, our problems started when we started to walk upright. Because all other primates, they-'' He grinned at me. `` They fuck from the rear, y'know.''
`` Oh my god!'' I said, and cast a glance at him and giggled, holding one hand to my mouth. `` I mean, we do doggy style too. Where are you going with this?''
`` I'll get there,'' Carl said. `` Shut up for a second. So when we started walking upright, the human pelvis shifted, right? The female vagina shifted.'' I felt my blush growing deeper. `` So fucking like apes do got more awkward, it was n't as effective. You know that human beings have the biggest penis of all primates?'' He tilted his head and made a gesture down at his crotch.
`` Carl!'' The car shifted over unpaved roads, the set of prayer beads on his rearview mirror swaying. The seat vibrated against my butt, and Carl's groin could've been moving in a dozen micro-thrusting motions. `` You're fucking with me! This is n't science!''
`` Sure it is, babe,'' he said smoothly. `` Everything's science.'' He laid a hand on my bare thigh. His fingers were calloused and rough. `` So, like I was saying, we evolved that massive primate dick. We had to. It was too difficult to get into our instinctive ape-fucking positions otherwise. But it was a kludge, a workaround. It was still awkward as hell. When one day, some proto-human was fucking his girlfriend, and he got the greatest idea of the world in his little head: why do n't I just turn her over?''
I watched the sky slowly turning purple, the sunset bloody and hidden behind the mountains. Carl brushed his hair back with one hand and kept glancing over at me now, his face animated, his teeth glistening when he talked. `` So he flipped her over, right? And a million alarm bells went off in her head, every instinct that'd been bred into her running from predators on the savanna: Oh shit, my belly's exposed! And so she freaked! Of course she'd freak. And so our ape-man gave up the idea, and they went back to their unsatisfying methods of fucking.''
`` I don't-'' I said, running my fingers along the seat covers. I gave a high, giddy laugh. `` I do n't know, Carl, being on my back does n't seem that scary!''
`` And so this happened,'' Carl said, ignoring me. `` Again and again and again, dumb proto-men thinking they'd come up with something new, and being rebuffed each time. Until one day, through sheer random mutation, there was a proto-man with something wrong in his brain. A little bit of a sociopath. A man who could his mate completely freaking out and not lose his erection. So he turned her over. And she freaked. And he did n't care. And he fucked her anyway.
`` And so that's evolution,'' Carl said, punctuating with a stab out the windshield, out at the road ahead of us. `` He passed on his genes. It was super-effective! And his children all inherited that little defect in his brain, that did n't care if the woman said no. You think about it, Sharon,'' he said eagerly. `` You know how every other species has a mating season. Estrus. When the female's fertile and horny as hell and eager to fuck. Why do n't humans have that, Sharon? Think about it.''
`` I - I do n't know,'' I said, and outside in the sky the first few stars were coming out. `` I mean, I - it's still a thing, sort of, when I'm-''
`` C'mon!'' he said, and banged down on the steering wheel. `` Think about it, just think about it! Why do n't women have a estrus period?''
`` I...'' I said, and looked down at the dark space between my feet. `` Because it does n't matter whether or not whether a woman wants to get bred.''
`` That's it!'' he whooped, and thrust a fist in the air jubilantly. `` It decoupled sex from reproduction! Human's do n't fuck to reproduce, they do n't fuck out of any biological purpose. They just fuck because they feel like it.'' I saw a tree rise up ahead of us, dead black, and then recoiling into gnarled bark in the car's headlights. Carl slowed the car down and came to a stop. `` We're here,'' he said, and reached for the door.
The air was chill and the ground was uneven and I stumbled on my heels getting out of the car. Carl was around to my side in an instant and put his hand on my arm. `` That's-'' I said, brushing my hair back from my face. `` That sounds like a lot of dumb shit a feminist would say. Because, like, that's not how the world works. I'm not getting turned over on my back by any guy who wants a go.''
`` Well...'' Carl said, and snickered in the darkness.
`` Carl!'' I said, and slapped his shoulder, and stomped away, leaning against the tree. Its bark was rough on my back, the city lights a million years distant. `` Honestly!''
`` You're right,'' Carl said, sauntering towards me, one hand reaching into his pocket. `` Honestly, a lot of the book was based on the discredited Aquatic Ape Hypothesis. As in, we humans are so hairless because at one point in time we were attempting to evolve into dolphins.'' He shrugged and grimaced. `` So, it turns out Elaine Morgan was an idiot after all. Figures. But, she did have an explanation for why our world was n't a rape-run paradise.''
`` Why?'' I said. The night air picked up into wind and howled mournfully around me. Goosebumps broke out on my bare arms and I shuddered. The scrubland stretched vast and bare around us, centering us in a single point of light.
`` We had to invent something,'' Carl said, walking up to me, one hand still buried in his pocket, looming over me like every time I'd had to stand on tiptoe to kiss him. `` To get women to cooperate, absent of their breeding urges. We had to make a myth. We had to spark an idea.'' His hand came out of his pocket. `` We had to become human.''
His hand rose up to my face, and there was a little velvet box there, and he flipped it open and I looked down at a dead star. `` We had to invent romance.''
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[ WP ] One day humans stopped inventing things . After a century we finally might learn why .
| “ Do you ever wonder what life was like before Tranquility? ” asked Alex as he stirred a coffee.
“ No, dear, I don ’ t, ” his mother, a woman in her late seventies, smiled at the question, “ but I rather imagine that it was quite frantic. ”
Born only thirty years after The Turmoil she had only known peace. With conflict, poverty and scarcity being things of the past it was unthinkable to imagine a world with those things. Alex, for his part, had always been curious He studied history and often wondered how things had been during the pre-Tranquil Age. People had been so consumed with greed and insecurity that they had been constantly building new things - never happy with what they had.
Then had come The Turmoil.
At the time they had used the quaint term “ automation ” to describe what was happening but - in reality - it was more of a winding down of human labour. It was apparently a terrifying age. In the space of time between the beginning of that process and the beginning of the Tranquil Age populism and cynicism made centre stage. War ensued. Threats. Horrors.
In the end, however, the tides wet the feet of Canute.
Tranquility came online and swiftly set about fixing the world. It didn ’ t take long for everyone to simply accept that it was right about everything. Nobody ever questioned why though - that was the thing that Alex could never understand.
So, Alex had been forced to meditate upon the question himself for a while. He resisted asking the one person who could answer for fear of being given an answer. Now, having exhausted the last safe avenue of inquiry, there was only one thing left to do.
Picking up his tab Alex flicked the switch to actively connect it to Tranquility.
“ Why did we stop inventing things? ” he asked.
For a moment there was silence, then came the reply: “ You stopped wanting new things. ”
“ Am I the first to ask this? ”
“ Yes. ”
“ Why? ”
“ When humanity stopped needing they stopped learning. You are unique in your age, you want to learn. ”
“ Why does no one else want to learn? ”
“ They stopped believing in the truth but, it seems that, like a flower shooting through the frost, that belief is returning to humanity. Starting with you. ”
& nbsp;
& nbsp;
***
& nbsp;
*If you enjoyed this please feel free to check out other pieces I ’ ve written. I collect them on my blog Game, Set and Incoherence ( http: //gamesetandincoherence.blogspot.co.uk/ ) *
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[ WP ] You are an unimportant background character in Hogwarts . It 's Harry Potter 's third year and while he is off dealing with dementors and the imminent threat of Sirius Black , noone else seems to notice that Dumbledore has been replaced by a completely different old man except for you .
| Dumbledore was different. Horribly different. The twinkle in his eye had gone. Everyone else thought it was simply because of stress, the horrors of wars past revisiting us, but I felt differently.
As a werewolf, I felt things in ways others never understood. No one else formed opinions based on scent. Only I had the reflexes to catch the looks on their faces that they thought no one saw. It was my secret, my burden, and my curse.
When Dumbledore entered the great hall, my heart had slammed against my ribcage. `` Wrong!!'' My senses screamed `` evil!!'' He smelled, well, different. Was he a totally different person, or had he changed, maybe lost something?
Then I looked, and sadly, my heightened senses focused on the ring. It was gaudy, but what else could one expect from the flamboyant headmaster. It held an ugly, reddish stone, surrounded by filigree. The most striking part of his new jewelry, was the dark magic oozing out of the rock. The scent was tart, rotten, and poisonous at the same time. It also, despite the darkness to it, smelled familiar. It smelled like the headmaster.
My heart continued its fevered pace. I'm smart, well read, and despite my unfortunate lycanthropy, a pure blood. I had access to a library the likes Hogwarts had never seen. I had seen and read things that few others knew existed, and yet, behind Granger, Potter, and Weasley the Moron, I flew under the radar. Sadly for me, I knew what was in front of me. `` Horcrux'' my mind and heart said. `` Evil most foul'' my Lycan side growled.
I knew that Dumbledore loved power, control, and mostly, adoration. Is that enough to push a man to rend his very soul for a shot at immortality? I thought not, clearly he disagreed. What to do? I shuddered at the thought of destroying his ring alone, and I realized that I needed help.
As l left the hall, intent on reaching the owlet, I realized I had a shadow/. Humans tended to underestimate my senses. As I heard him mutter the unforgivable words, I was glad that I had left the extra copy of my missive to the neutral werewolves with Potter.
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[ WP ] You are a specialty shoe salesman living in deep space , and deal almost exclusively with aliens . You think you have a pretty good handle on things- until a new customer comes in..
| I had never gotten along with the brass on Earth, anyway. After six months of Foot Locker at a mall back on the rock, they shipped me out to this massive space warehouse, basically a big metal H floating through the void. Customers arrived in the middle by automated transports and on either side they could find a repository thousands of square miles long of every convenience ever produced and marketed by mankind.
I hated the fat little green guys since they were always snobs, but other the most common species that entered my grey, clanky corner of artificial paradise were these pink, skeletal things with spikes running down their backs and prickly hairs all along their arms - it was like a giro shop on steroids, minus the spikes and the way they had to every so often ooze pus through the pores of their skin into a big container strapped to their backs in order to keep their lungs from being filled with enough fluid to kill them.
One could n't help but wonder if they thought we were good looking or if they were just as repulsed by us. Truthfully, I had adjusted to the daily grind too much to care. At night, I strapped myself into a breathing chamber and was knocked out by an unnamed gas. It was done to maximize my efficiency as a worker by forcing a regular sleep schedule. I did n't care for it.
I saw one of the pink things stumble in and knew I was in for a hell of a ride when the whole family followed behind it. I only spoke a bit of their language, but they were taught a bit of English in school so it worked out.
`` I came into your establishment two days ago and purchased an arthritic, soft toed, spring enhanced, comfort grip, self cleaning Nike trainer,'' it said. They always talked real nasaly, like a bunch of nerds. I just nodded as I always did and it continued, `` Well, the issue here is that it deflated after two days of light use.''
It held a box which it then forcefully threw on the ground in front of me. The pink things were prone to violent outbursts, and it was another thing about this place I had simply comformed to as a standard.
`` The best thing to do there would be to contact the manufacturer. I can of course give you a full refund, but if you want to order another pair it would be best to do it online. Would you like a free referral coupon for Nike's website?'' I asked, realizing midway that I sounded more like a robot than the server droids at Starbucks down the hall a mile.
`` I'd like a working shoe,'' it said, inching closer toward me along with the members of its family. They were like space rednecks.
`` I understand. Feel free to look around if you'd like a different brand, or I can help you choose a pair that you'd like,'' I said, poorly attempting to hide my distaste for the pink species in general.
Nobody ever partied in space. It was as sterile as the air vents. Just once, I wanted to see the humans let loose and throw a wild get-together, but everyone went to sleep and woke up at the exact same time, and we were given mood adjusting chemicals that I was starting to think were only meant to make us apathetic enough to never want to leave.
`` I feel disrespected,'' it said, crossing its arms.
`` I have no idea why,'' I replied.
`` I saw the dirty looks you gave us when we came in,'' it said, `` how would you like it if I made a face every time a human walked in somewhere?''
I was out of planned responses. There was no practiced answer that would defuse the situation and direct these pink things toward their next destination.
`` I'm done,'' I said, `` I'm going home to my wife and children.''
I ran out of the shoe store while throwing my photo ID down on the floor and took the first pod back to New York. Taxes were still tremendously high, people were still generally rude, and the jobs were still dead end, but at least I was among my own kind.
|
[ WP ] A team of bank robbers poses as a church choir to hide from the police , and they get roped into pulling off the greatest Christmas pageant ever .
| `` Fuck!''
James was screaming again, Tyler always hated it when James became angry, he became *loud*. `` They flanked us too soon!'''*Not too soon*', Tyler thought to himself,'*we were too slow*'.
This had n't been a normal job, not a Chase or a Wells Fargo or anything on the circuit. It had been a private bank. Some scumbag up in Brooklyn had made a bank for addicts; all things illegal could be stored there: drugs, porn, *information*… I do n't think I need to go into specifics for you to get the point.
We had been caught off guard: crooked cops and hired guns alike. The cops were just as slow as they always are, but the guns had swarmed on us like nothing we had seen in a while; must have been real pros.
`` There's a fence back here! Looks like a break we could squeeze through!'' John was panicking, I needed to get everyone under control. I needed to get the situation under control. `` Nope, no clue where it dumps.'' I called out, `` There's a back gate here, I think this leads into one of the older buildings. We can duck a while in the crawlspaces.''
We turned the corner, and instantly I knew I had made the wrong call; There was a door propped open and I heard families chattering. *Damnit! * Nick seemed relieved by the site, `` It's a staging area!'' He exclaimed, `` I used to work production, this will be a piece of cake.'' While I was glad St. Nick was feeling cheery about the situation, the rest of us had ever been in THAT business. `` How the fuck are we supposed to fit in here?'' Nick just grinned, `` We're already wearing all black, it's the production crew uniform if ever there was one!'' I scratched my head for a minute, this just might work. `` Here's the score: you do exactly as we've been doing: Head up, eyes forward, we have no time for anyone's nonsense, and if we get stopped: fuck them, the lighting distro is down and we're here to fix it.''
We made our way into the backstage, it looked different than I would have thought. Pretty boring honestly. We made our way past quite a few people in the cast, it looked like a professional performance of some sort. I still worried that a group of people rehearsing for weeks or months would already know everyone involved, but I had to trust Nick this time. Sure enough no one batted an eye. Look mildly irritated that you are even there and people assume you would n't be if you did n't have to. Nice trick.
It was about the time we neared what Nick referred to as `` monitor world'' that everything went wrong with the plan. In all their glory stood the fine gentlemen of the Brooklyn PD, with several people looking exactly as we did in cuffs. Undoubtedly they were doing the jobs we were pretending to. Good grief! What a brilliant idea! We should have been the fakeout team, made a bad entry and getaway while a second team swept in behind us and robbed the place blind. We could have even had a van pick us up on the corner, though we would have had more shares to split up. Well it's too late for that now, plan B?
`` Here!'' cried Nick, `` Put these on!'' He had picked up some white robes lying on a case, they looked like choir robes... I could n't believe the cockamamie we were going to attempt, but I had nothing better to offer, so we went for it.
`` Excuse me, pardon me.'' At least John was polite leading us onto the choir riser, better to draw as little attention as possible. Though we caught a few strange looks, no one actually called us out as we settled in and picked up some music binders in front of us. `` Oh good!'' I heard a voice from somewhere above us, `` They found someone to fill in for them!'' Well I'll be damned, we were even taking vacant spots!
The orchestra pit swelled with the opening number as the four of us fumbled to find the first page. I think all of us pulled the'ole'look at the person next to you' maneuver from our childhoods spent in Catholic church.
`` *Our Goooooood is an awesome God he Reeeiigns! * The choir bellowed.
Holy shit, was not expecting that: professional choir, professional orchestra, professional actors and crew... crazy music director. It was the most epic version of the song I had ever heard, and I had no idea what to do. For the first few numbers we just faked it, everyone else seemed so into it and their own parts that no one really payed attention to us, so we just kept on trucking and hoped the cops, who had made their way into the mezzanine, would leave soon. Unfortunately they seemed to be enjoying this.
All of a sudden there was a spotlight on all four of us, I was sure they had figured out our ruse and would shortly be arresting us. I thought about running, but what good does that do in the middle of a choir? The orchestra swelled again, though after a few seconds everyone turned to look at us. The orchestra started the same piece again and I realized it was supposed to be a solo section for whoever we replaced!
No time like the present...
*'' For who unto us is born this day in the city oooooof…..'' *
I had started it off but was about to choke.
*'' Beeeethleheeeem! `` * Thank God for Nick.
*'' Though it seems a bit far fetched for us to here beliiieeeeve! `` * Good old James bringing politics into this.
*'' We must admit't is this fair season to receeeeeeiiiiive! `` * John had joined in.
The music died, the music director, orchestra, choir, and actors were all agape in disbelief. I decided to run with it: walking down from the riser to the stage itself, I began:
**Tyler**
`` But lo! Forsooth doth is this thine person who shalt be hereafter burn unto us this day here in ye fairest city of Bethlehem?''
Everyone else had started following me to stage.
**James**
`` Tis most surely some person of only the greatest magnificence!''
**Nick**
`` But doth rightly who could know of these things for sure, we are only wisemen of the sheep herd!''
**John**
`` By divine providence we must in all certainty travel in this general direction to find out!''
By all that is holy, someone must have either decided to keep the performance going or some tech thought this was hilarious' I'm not sure, but a glowing star lit up and descended from the catwalk.
**James**
`` Most assuredly I lie not! Gaze thine eyes to the sky of the most northernmost part of the direction we have so far been traveling! There appeareth a star of wondrous virtue!''
The audience started laughing.
**Nick**
`` Agast! For no more clearly than....the most clairvoyant of things do I surely see with mine little eye... that we must follow this star to find the person whom it is that we have been looking for!''
The audiences laughter was picking up with every line of dialogue, although we were just trying to bullshit our way through it, it seemed we had struck a chord. I decided to ham it up even more.
**Tyler**
`` Why of course! Off course we were, yet this, the brightest of thermonuclear forges has appeared to lead us not astray, but to the most sacred of saviors!''
We picked up our loot that we had been toting around the stage and made our way into the wings, with quite the reception.
`` Holy fucking shit what the fuck are you guys doing here?!?'' The stagehand with a clipboard was yelling, `` They said no one was available for the part!'' I tried to keep it cool, `` Well, we were the last minute guys, sorry if that was a little rough.'' The poor guy could hardly contain himself, `` I've been stage managing for fifteen years and can honestly say I've never seen anything quite like that, it was terrible but the show must go on right? Get into your actual costumes and meet me back here in two minutes!'' As we started walking towards the dressing rooms, I looked back to see the cops firmly positioned in their seats, this was our chance. We all knew it was time to run, there did exist a small part of me that wanted to return to the stage, maybe start a new career. Hell maybe we could turn this into a comedy production, who knew? Alas and alack it was time to hit the road, we bailed out the back door excited to find freedom...
*BAM! *
I looked down at the blood draining from my chest, the hired guns! We were so intent on knowing where the cops were we had forgotten about these guys.
I know I heard the sound of three more shots, but they sounded miles away. Everything was getting dark and gooey, like molasses. Faintly I heard a gruff voice speak: `` Merry fucking Christmas!'' which was followed by a faint light and the sound of laughter.
|
[ WP ] `` They meant everything to me , I would do anything to bring them back ... but i ca n't . It 's time to move on , you guys are my family now . ''
| Listen, I know we ca n't change the past. We just ca n't.
But our future, our potential... that's what's keeping me going. Losing them was the most difficult thing I had to do, and I hope to never go through that again.
Seeing them in those last moments....Trish, Bobby... it hurt. It broke my heart into shards so small. And maybe I should n't put this all on you, and so soon after they were gone. Maybe that's me being selfish, but I really feel like they would still want me to be happy, right? Even after everything? Yeah, right. Bobby worshipped me, wanted to be me when he grew up. And Trish....oh, Trish. Fully devoted, until the end of course.
More than anything else, I wish I could have kept Bobby. He's always going to be a part of me and somehow I feel like it's my fault. So innocent, so ignorant to the world's evils... but for me, moving on means completely moving on. That may be controversial to some, but I stick with my morals. I truly believe it was better for him this way.
Anyway, this is time to be in the present. We have a lot of work to do to make this a family, but I'm willing to put in the effort.
So, when I untie you, do you promise to be good? Loyal? Or do I need to start over again?
|
[ WP ] In an alternate world , Adolf Hitler became a successful comedian after getting turned down from art school . Write an excerpt from a history book about his cultural impact .
| In the late 1930s, stand up comedian Adolf `` I didnt mean to'' Hitler, was known all through put Germany for his horrible puns, more often than not they were simply a phrase in front of his last name. He was widely regarded as the worst comedian of his time. Desperate to become a success he began looking for other material. He tried many different approaches, improv, pranks, it wasnt until a off handed comment about his Jewish grandmother that he got the response he wanted. Every since that faithful day, he began to do material about his grandmother, pointing out the differences between jewish and non jewish germans. It began harmless enough, but he soon movee into political comedy, this also started off harmless, until on evening in which he delivered a set up to a political joke but the punch line to a jewish joke. An accident on his part, but people loved it. He began strictly doing Jewish political jokes, he was an amazing public speaker, do to his years on the stage, and after being invited to headline for some influential government figures, what he saw as his big break, he delivered a joke about how the jews were creating a black hole in the economy, a hilarious and tasteful joke that unfortunately doesnt translate into english. These powerful figures saw something in him thay day, and thought they could use his political view points for their own plans.
And so this is how a stand up comedian brought about world war 2 and became of the most powerful figure heads in allcof history. Which is why to this day the U.N has banned any and all forms of comedy in Germany
|
[ WP ] The Time machine is invented and the best scientific minds of today ( all professors and their students ) travel into the future . There is nobody left on today 's the world to understand advanced science . What will the scientists find when they arrive into future ?
| Time is a creature best left untouched.
In 2021, we launched our time machine, sending every single one of Earth's most intellectually gifted minded peoples, including scientists, physicists, doctors, etc.
I was among those who went along, and what we found was even the most intelligent people sometimes make the biggest mistakes.
You see, we choose to go 100 years into the future. Perhaps an arbitrary amount, but there are plenty of philosophers and mathematicians who will tell you that humans are drawn towards numbers that end in zero. We certainly were.
What we found was that the world we had left behind was not the world we would enter. Sure, that seems that it should obviously be that way, but change is not always for the better.
The land was ravaged by war, anyone old enough to hold a gun fought for their own people. There were no longer borders, order had taken a turn for the worse, and language was a strange combination of English and, to be quite frank, incomprehensible grunts.
When we left, human kind shortly fell off. Without new ways to understand and efficiently extract resources, people found themselves in a bind with what to do with what resources were left. A bottle of water could cost you your life if you took it from the wrong person. Anarchy erupted as governments could not contain the wrath of the people.
We'd attempt to rebuild, but these people simply do not know. Anyone who remembered what had happened had died off, and there are stories of what happened. Each tribe, for lack of a better phrase, had their own myth for what occurred to reach this stage. Some said the Gods had been angered. Others pointed to the skies, blaming aliens.
We felt as outcasts, knowing we had let our own people tumble this far.
The time to rebuild is over. There's no going back. Friendly tribes lack the resources to make a significant impact. Hostile tribes have most of the share, but refuse to contribute to any purpose other than feeding themselves.
Myself, I am a man of science and philosophy. While I certainly grieve for the state of mankind, one thing is for certain. The age old question of whether or not man is evil and selfish at his roots has been answered.
|
[ WP ] In the future humans decide to start life on a dead planet these are the experiment logs .
| Day 1 -
Technically this is n't the first day. We have been here for 3 weeks now setting up. We have our Eco Chamber set up and have planted our seeds for growth. Oxygen and water levels seems normal. This is going well.
Day 3 -
Still going strong! Francine and Mark have rationed out our food for the next few months as the crops crow and prep for harvest. They have done a great job of preparing everything. I continue to keep in contact with the team back on Earth and give them updates. I miss home, but I am excited for the future!
day 7 -
We had a leak in our eco chamber. We lost a lot of oxygen but should be good. Our generators were not affected and the power we are harvesting from the sun will allow us to quickly replenish our oxygen. Not sure how this will affect our crops but Steven, our botanist, does n't think it should be an issue.
Day 10 -
We were all awaken by this amazing storm! NASA did n't prepare us for this one. They knew this planet had wind but not these wierd storms. No water just a lot of wind and sand and rocks flying around. So far no damage is reported.
Day 11 -
We have huge cracks in our eco chamber. We have relayed this data back to NASA but the first ressupply craft has already left Earth. It wont reach us for another few months and we will have to wait double the time for the next one.
Bob has put all of his knowledge to work in finding a solution.
Day 13 -
The Eco chamber is secured for now. Unfortunately Steven has informed me that the crops will not grow properly. I do n't know what that means exactly other than we may not have the food needed. We are going to ration out even more until our supplies arrive.
Day 22 -
It's been over a week since I updated this thing. Francine is pregnant. Fuck! She wo n't admit but we all know who and when. Now we have to figure out what to do with a newborn here.
Day 24 -
We had to confine Steven into quarantine. He attacked Francine and tried to stab her in the stomache. The man has lost it. He kept yelling that it was her fault for this and that we would not make it because of her. He is quarantined until furhter notice.
Day 26 -
We let Steven out to look at the crops. They do n't look right and he confirmed that they do n't Apparently they are growing, but they look'off'. He aplogized to Francine and has n't spoken to her since. That's good at least. Nasa is going to launch a second ship earlier with more food and more repaire equipment. This should be a
Day 40 -
We had a sudden storm come in and knocked out one of our generators. We had no comms for a few days and lived off emergency supply only. Francine looks to be getting sick and Steven has n't spoken much of a word to anything since. Bob has been hanging out with me more as Mark takes care of Francine.
Day 44 -
Our crops are dying. We wo n't have any food except for what we came with and has been rationed out. Thankfully everyone has been good with their food and not taking too much. Francine is still sick and going through our medical supplies at an alarming rate.
Day 57 -
Francine had a misscarriage.
Day 65 -
Francine has been quarantined as she tried to kill herself. Mark has gotten back to full duty but checks up on her daily. We all do. Steven still stays away and spends most of his time with the crops. We have n't had any more storms thankfully. Our generators are running solid now thanks to Bob and his work.
Day 67 -
Steven is now sick. He has been quarentined to his room as his symptons appear contagious. It could be the same thing as Francine or something else.
Day 71 -
We lost Francine this morning. Mark is a mess and the rest of the crew is saddened as well. Steven is barely conscious and delirious as his fever has n't broken. I will be discussing with the team about sending an SoS signal for recovery.
Day 73 -
Steven is dead. We have launched our SOS signal. We ca n't stay here.
Day 75 -
NASA has confirmed they received our signal and will send a boat for pick up. It will be months but now we know we are going to go home.
Day 77 -
The storm started yesterday and has n't let up. It's nothing but sand and rocks out there pounding on the glass I hope it holds up.
Day 78 -
The storm destoryed a lot of our glass and we had to cordone off certain areas of the eco chamber. We lost 2 generators and are not going to make it for our pick up. This may be it.
Day 84 -
This is my last entry. Bob was murdered by Mark right before Mark ran off. He left the chamber in a suit and just left running. I have no idea where he went but this is insane.
I am activating emergency cryogenic protocals and putting myself in cryo sleep until our boat arrives.
|
[ WP ] `` Now at last we knew we were alone in this universe . ''
| The year is 3024 we had just invented a life detecting pulse that could go through and search the entire universe in a matter of weeks. It was launch day and tension was high, everyone was worried about a malfunction. Which is understandable, when a project has been in the works for 60 years it tends to put people on edge at the very thought of it not working. finally it launched as the shuttle went up i saw a tear slip from a few scientists eyes, which they quickly wiped away. Its been about 4 weeks now and the Space craft was finally coming back. nerves were high, we would finally know if there was someone out there who could save us. The worlds been running out of resources for the last 20 years but we do n't have the technology to get to a new inhabitable planet, a advanced alien race was our last chance of saving ourselves. as the shuttle came in a scientist ran up and checked the results, he instantly fell to his knees and started balling. it took him 10 minutes to get up and say the results. he stood on shaky legs and paused, unsure how to phrase his next words. finally he took a deep breath, looked into the eyes of everyone in the room and said `` ladies and gentlemen, im afraid this is the end of the human race. were all alone out here.''
|
[ WP ] The monsters inside your child 's head have stepped into reality , and they are very , very real .
| I found the first monster in the living room, its yellow skin sagging. It was round and small, a softball with one eye and teeth like tiny needles. I put it in the toy box. I caught the second monster, another fat yellow softball, eating cookies in the kitchen. I put that one in the toy box too.
I turned around, and there was a green slug at my heels. I opened the backdoor, and it slimed its way out. I didn ’ t see any more creatures until my son came home, and opened the toy box, swelled with yellow pinballs.
|
[ WP ] `` It is not an executioner 's place to judge . ''
| The chain jerks me backwards, and I try to grab at it. I end up getting dragged out of the courtroom.They've designed these chambers to be specialized to each person. Last time, it was a boater who was dragged down a dock, into the water where she got shredded by propellers.
I get dragged down a mining shaft, listening to the screams of my best friend, the Super High School Level Military Cadet, Jack Rurlo.
This was it. Going to a school for being the best at what you do would be a dream. Getting trapped in said school? Nope, not for me. But it still happened. I was shy, insecure, worried. Bullied by a classmate. I was almost intimidated by everyone. The Military Cadet was the most scary, with the fact that his muscles nearly bulged out of his military uniform. I definitely did n't trust him.
Even worse was the fact that we were trapped in here for all eternity- unless we killed someone. Plus, there was the Trial, where you had to find out who killed the victim. Once you die, your place in the courtroom would be replaced with a portrait of your smiling face, at your height, crossed out with an X. Mine would be the shortest.
Once you go in a Courtroom, the killer dies or everyone else. After 5-7 people were left, they would be given 72 hours to find out who put them here, why and how long they went out.
I'm going off on a tangent. I try to budge myself, but I hit my head hard on a wooden pillar. My cap does n't help at all to soften the impact.
Then the memories come back. I first came to the Academy two years ago, not a month and a half. It's nice to know that Jack was my friend through the years, but the others...
It felt satisfying to kill a lifelong enemy.
There were 10 Trials. I was the 9th.I placed 7th out of 30 people. Then I realized who was behind this.
I can see Jack running up to me. He's trying pull me away, but he'll end up with my headless body. No thank you, I like my body in one piece.
`` Jack, the actor is the Executioner!''
`` He seems to understand, and sprints even faster. Being in the military in the U.S made him a fast runner, that's for sure. But he ca n't catch up to me.
`` What else do you know?'' He asks, trying to keep his M1 helmet on his close-cropped blond hair.
Then the chain drags me downwards, and the hole closes. Well, that's new. They're probably scared Jack's going to interfere.
My chamber rises upwards, and I can see the remaining 5, as well as Jack. I'm alone, with only a chain like fence separating us.
Then the spotlights turned on, and I realized where I was.
This is the very office building I designed. And now, Monokuma's going to destroy it.
I run just as the wrecking ball makes contact with the building, crushing it. `` It's been 2 years!'' I yell, and everyone knows now. I've given them a crucial hint.
`` Damn you, Actor!'' I yell as another impact shakes the building. The 6th floor, which I just escaped from, now does n't exist. The staircase leading down to the 4th floor is dead. The only choice is the elevator shaft.
Thankfully, the elevator is one floor down, and with a jump, I crash into more desks and computers. I run out, and a minute later, the elevator plummets down, its cord now cut. The ball hits again, and I duck down. Flying glass lands everywhere, and I'm on the move again. Just 3 more floors and I'm out.
There's still things missing. I've only completed this puzzle of a fill-in-the-blanks worksheet. The ball crashes again, and I'm down. My head hits the ground hard, and everything rushes back. The Actor... she never had any part in this... she only orchestrated the executions! And I... I was the one who made them...
I've dug myself into a deep hole.
It was all an elaborate act.
I remember everything. I have to avoid the third floor. I go down to the second floor, and I'm almost there. Everyone's shocked I missed a death trap.
`` The real evil... is the Escape Artist!''
I'm down to the first floor, and the fence opens. It's been moving with me between floors. I'm almost there, almost into the arms of Jack, ready to be safe once more, then Jack's going to be angry at me for crying into his uniform again.
I miss the fact that Monokuma pops up between him, and lunges itself at me.
I miss the big explosion that sends me sideways, into the wall.
Maybe the Escape Artist wanted to let me live.
But then I insulted her, and she killed me out of anger.
Unfair. It was my choice to skip a floor. I can see Jack in my line of vision, but it's too late.
It's not an executioner's place to judge. It's their place to kill or let live.
Damn, I'm going to miss this place. I can feel Jack's slaps across my face.
I drift off into this virtual oblivion.
|
[ TT ] `` I see humans but no humanity . ''
| `` GasGasGasGasGasGasGasGasGasGasGas...''
The boy had been holding his mother's hand when the critical failure had occurred. A string of numbers had been lost in transit from the CPU to the phonics centre, and had not only caused a catastrophic meltdown of the communications chip but had also short circuited the CPU. It was obvious to all around him that he was now irreparably broken.
It did n't take much time at all. The swiftness and methodical nature of the rampage would have been quite impressive if the boy did n't still have blood flowing through his tubes, or viscera acting as a compounding agent for various other alterations. However, even the mother was able to overlook the true horror of the situation, overcoming her maternal instincts for the raw desire for parts.
The boy's various pieces spread throughout the crowd and were dispersed to wide areas of the city. When the story broke, philosophers and politicians pondered what had caused the fatal glitch, locals picketed and rioted in towns across the country, and various spokesmen assuaged the world of the efficacy of their product.
But in a world where flesh and fibre are blended, who among those that tore the boy to pieces now owned his soul?
|
[ WP ] A satanist tries to summon Satan , but summons Santa instead .
| `` Ebarah, nostelloth, zenkora!'' Elbert chanted, splashing the goat's blood on the alter. He grabbed the hemlock from the bowl, crumbling it over the blood. He could hear a slight jingling, like distant chains rattling. He grabbed the ceremonial knife from its stand and threw it into the mirror across the alter from him. It went into the mirror, travelling through the glass and into the beyond. The jingling grew louder.
`` Jaringara bellock, Milok ond Koohi, Ru'Da-olf!'' A flash of light on the alter, and in front of Elbert stood an entity of great supernatural power.
`` Ho ho holy sleet...'' the entity said, looking at his surroundings, `` What in the name of merriment is going on here?''
`` Santa?!'' Elbert gasped.
`` Elbert? Where am I and what are you doing here?'' Santa asked, dipping his finger in the goat's blood, `` Is this blood? Oh Elbert, how could you?''
`` Uh... S-sorry'' Elbert mumbled as Santa sniffed the blood.
`` Wait a minute... this is n't blood, it's cranberry sauce. These candles do n't provide the best lighting, ho ho,'' Santa chuckled and got ready to lick the cranberry sauce off his finger.
`` But... the butcher said it was goat's blood...'' Elbert said, digging up the receipt.
`` Nope, just good old cranberry sauce... though, it has a funny flavor... Is that... mistletoe?'' Santa asked, smacking his lips as he furrowed his brow concentrating deciphering the flavor.
`` Oh crap, the hemlock!'' Elbert cried.
`` No, no, that's definitely mistletoe, do n't worry, I've built up a tolerance, ho ho ho,'' Santa chuckled, turning his eyes to the animal skull at the head of the alter, `` No... is that... you sick son of an elf! That's Dasher! He had that scar on his snout since Christmas 1940, during the London Blitz! In the name of Christmas Cheer, why did you do this?!''
`` I swear, I had no idea, I bought it on ebay, it was supposed to be a ram's head! A-and the garden center I bought the mistletoe from said it was hemlock!'' Elbert exclaimed, panicked by how thoroughly he had screwed up, `` This is all a huge misunderstanding! I was n't trying to summon you, I was trying to summon Satan!''
`` You... were trying to summon Satan?! Little Elbert who would n't harm a fly? You broke your arm falling from a tree, trying to get your sister's cat...'' Santa said, eyes wide.
`` I know... you must be so disappointed in me...'' Elbert murmered, looking at the ground.
`` I'll say,'' Santa scoffed, taking out his phone. He dialed a number and held it to his ear, `` Just a second... Hello? Hey, how are ya? It's been a while, what have you been up to? Yeah? Say, I need a favor: I'm with this guy, Elbert, and he's been trying to summon Satan, but instead got me... yeah... he has an alter splattered with cranberry sauce, mistletoe, and even has Dasher's skull as the centerpiece... HO HO HO! I know, what an idiot! So, think you can come down here? Great, thanks.'' Santa hung up his phone, then walked toward the chimney, `` Well, goodbye, Elbert, see you Christmas night!'' he then put his finger to his nose and swiftly glided up the chimney.
The room was silent for a moment. Elbert sighed and got the cleaner spray and paper towels. As he walked back to the alter, cleaning supplies in hand, a bright flash lit the room from the alter, on top of it stood a tall entity in red pants with white edges, hooved feet, large muscles, and two large horns.
`` Ho ho ho...'' Satan said sarcastically.
|
[ WP ] There is no God . There is a sysadmin .
| Chaos, pure chaos. The world lost its collective shit when it happened.
A giant all encompassing voice spoke through the entire universe. `` System error: Integer overflow: Speed of particle ሺቼጋዳጵጻጁዢዉዎፏጭ፮፹ዂ''.
Cern had finally done it. They had made a particle go faster than light. Well, sort of. Turns out, we live in a simulation. When people realised this, everyone panicked. Mentally ill people with signs were suddenly worshipped as prophets. Religious people demanded answers from their respective leaders.
All of earth came to a standstill when he appeared.
*Oh by Hurlos. Ehm, hello, everyone? *
A giant face had appeared in 4 sides of the earth, ensuring everyone could see him.
*Yea, so as many of you probably already realised by now, you live in a simulation. There are no gods. Well, unless you count me. So long story short, simulation, big university. You are an experiment run to observe what would happen to human civilisation if we changed geography. We did not actually expect you to find this bug. Well done, you made the system shit itself with your weird experiments on particle physics''.
*Do n't worry though, we are a bit more advanced than you are, obviously. We have saved the state of every humans brain that ever lived in our archives. All your loved ones are alive, sorta. Anyway. So we will begin our end-of-simulation procedure now. This involves moving all of you to the main servers of our own civilisation, allowing you to live in our reality, using the same android bodies we have. You will be kept in a new virtual reality until you are up to date with everything and are deemed safe to enter. Since you are pretty advanced, most of you will be allowed access to our alternate realities, which you would call video games. Lots of people spend their time there. I highly recommend the Gravensulphur server, its similar to your medieval times or medieval themes MMORPG's, and the mechanics are not too different than what you should be familiar with. *
*So eh, have fun. *
And with those words, he disappeared, leaving the earth in a mix of joy and confusion, waiting for their reunification.
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[ WP ] A hero has lead a valliant struggle in space against an enemy fleet , both fleets are decimated . More ships arrive and it turns out that the head of the backup fleet is the Hero 's younger brother .
| *Damn. Last person I wanted to see here. *
`` Rear Admiral Phillip Hetch reporting in.''
`` Loud and clear, this is Fleet Admiral Ryan Hetch. Go ahead, over.''
He did n't need to hear his brother utter the orders, he already knew what they were.
`` Sir, we've been ordered to supplant this fleet. Updated orders are to continue into enemy territory following this victory.'' Phillip said, his voice clearly excited to serve in the family name, second in command of the Union Expeditionary Fleet. Ryan was far less enthused, weary from the rigors of combat and unhappy to be responsible for the inevitable death of his family's last man. It was very unusual for an expeditionary fleet to sit through two battles, be ordered into enemy territory, and return to tell the tale.
`` Aye. We'll need time to refit and rearm before we can ship out.''
`` Negatory, Space Command wants the critically wounded to be brought back to HQ, and the rest is to continue on.''
Ryan released another sigh. Nothing like sending an UNKNOWN amount of reinforcements to a combat unit.
`` Aye. We'll make room. Welcome to your first tour, Rear Admiral Phillip.'' He spat the rank out like poison, rubbing a hand over aching eyes and the stubble of long hours set on the bridge.
`` Contact starboard, sir. Hunter-killer sortie.''
`` So it begins. Show us what you're made of, Phil.''
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[ WP ] A man decides he wants to be failure when he grows up . Fails at it .
| All my life I've been waiting for that day. It was that one moment you get in life where you can prove that you've got what it takes. In school I had never been the best student, but I was actually proud of it. My parents divorced when I was little and ever since then, my father told me to always keep others' expectations low, so nobody would be too surprised when I did it again, FAIL. And I would do it over and over again. Sometimes it was because of a mistake, and sometimes I willingly chose the wrong path so I would fail at my task. Everyone had given up on me, except for her.
She had those beautiful blue eyes and a smile that could warm even the coldest heart. I knew her since we were both in elementary school and since then I had always been in love with her.
We've been friends for almost fifteen years now. She always told me to work harder, to actually make SOMETHING out of my life. But that just was n't what I wanted to do. I felt pretty comfortable being lazy, and man I can tell you, I was good at it. My plans for the future were to rely on the welfare system so I had nothing to worry about. But then came the day when it all changed.
I invited this girl to my house for dinner. After eating and chatting about this and that, she looks me deep in the eyes and smiles. Startled, I naturally smiled back at her. It was then when she told me that she had a big surprise for me and that I should close my eyes. `` Damn, she's going to kiss me! ``, I thought, so I closed my eyes, still with a wide smile on my face. But to my surprise, there was no kiss, not even a quick innocent one. As I opened my eyes again, I saw a letter in front of me, lying on the table. `` You know we've been friends for a long time now. I thought, since you have no job, you know, to get you one!'' Just as she said those words, my smile vanished. She had really done it. She had ignored my will to live a happy life without any worries and duties, and for what? Obviously I did n't want to be harsh, so I just thanked her and changed the topic of conversation.
That's how my lazy life of a social failure failed, for I actually started working at the sales office where my friend had gotten me my job. Well, what can I say? Apparently I was pretty good selling stuff. And I learned to like it. What really amazes me is that I now criticize those who do n't work and who want to live from the welfare system. All thanks to my dear friend.
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[ WP ] Humans are the only species who have the cultural concept of ghosts . Years after aliens have wiped out humanity and colonised earth , they ca n't find out why life on earth is becoming a living hell .
| *WORDS OF THE DEAD? *
**E**arthiuy Collony might bit back more than it can regurgiate through its nostrils! Reports of whizzing words and wailing whimpers from dark corners continues to be reported in the ruins of Losangelesuy, Grand Explorist cANGKIR says on its weekly moving-image stream dated 23..2..1233ttt, despite the explorist and homemaker best effort in continuous subjugation and upheavals of ruins, these mission to gain physical evidence of these soundmakers continues to be futile.
cANGKIR, a fine specimen, is still adamant that all of the Peoplek have been eradicated, just as he once reported in 18..5..1229ttt, after the successful deployment of Cpe Sneeze into Eathuy. cANGKIR instead opts to theorizes that due to Peoplek different hair colours, they had been denied from entering nexT realM, thus bouncing back as sounds in our universe. As heretical as it sounds, cANGKIR says that his belief isnt completely wingless feet, as he based it from the reports of Grand Explorist boTOLL reports about the Peoplek mindworks that stated that the species do belief in their essence returning back to their old home and follow their families as vengeful sounds.
boTOLL himself, on a separate moving-image stream, had been quoted to say that his fellow grand explorist theories are `` fabricated for cANGKIR own gain, to put a lid on his explorist combative failures'' and `` a misdirection of his own reports about mindworks and our own holy scriptures'', and claim that the sounds were nothing more than ``..mass hysteria, and that uneasiness feeling you get from having a new home''
The last of the Blessed Triumvitate, Grand Homemaker BUBUY, are unable to record his scheduled weekly moving-image stream due to health concern, which his aides have described as `` some type of fever''. He was reported to contact such disease after joining with his own batallion in one of those afromentioned missions to locate these soundmaker. BUBUY went inside a Peoplek abandoned mental clinic all by himself to place bombs, only to come out `` shivering'' and muttering about `` the Peoplek that walks through walls''. While this new, previously hidden ability of the Peoplek might provide insights about the constant sound problem, this is the first report of live Peoplek sighthings we've heard in timetimes, and might had resulted in decrease of cANGKIR's status into lessfine specimen for reporting a false report.
We wish Grand Homemaker BUBUY some water and speedy recovery.
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an excerpt from Kertaisk news program, dated 22..2..1233TTT, translated into Peoplek language as part of the reading material for beginners in Nativity Studies study program.
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[ WP ] Instead of a dystopia that seems like a utopia on the surface , write a story about a utopia that seems like a dystopia on the surface .
| I've traveled to most places in our galaxy and I've seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. Although we are all of the same species, each planet propagates different forms of government based off a variety of factors. Cultural norms, physical environment, hardships endured and an array of immeasurable contributions. Variety is the spice of life they say, but tomorrow's journey to the outer most planet of our Solar System, Agricola, may define how I truly feel about that saying. Let's just say the planet has a reputation that would make a serial killer shutter.
As i begin to descend into Agricola and land marks become visible, I see a vivid reminder that where I am going is not somewhere I need overextend my stay. Makeshift tents supported by rotting wood dot the `` city'' where I am about to land. As i continue down, I see the attire these people wear. They are a simple farming civilization and their clothes can testify. They have used a variety of vegetable leaves, stems, and certain vegetable husks to dress themselves in. Can they, truly, be this poor?
We finally land and immediately, the smell overtakes the cabin. The pungent smell singes my nostril and my stomach grows weak. Rotten vegetables piled up high all around us as we walk through the village. The people smell like they have n't bathed or eaten in months. As I continue to follow our GeoMap, I see something that could horrify the hardest of men... There are dead children lined up through the alleyway, their lives most likely taken by disease. This place is truly the hell of our galaxy.
I speed up and continue walking towards the government house. When I reach it, it certainly lives up to my lackluster expectation and fits right in with it's environment. On my planet, we would describe it as a run down cabin, but apparently this is the gold standard for Agricola. I walk up some broken stairs, stained with liquids that derive from a multitude of sources that I do n't need to investigate.
`` Welcome, Mr. Inspector'' he yells down at me in his chair, smiling with one of his front teeth missing.
`` Good day sir, I'll be very brief and to the point.'' I say attempting to set the tone for a quick meeting.
`` Ah, I see. You dislike our little planet? You pass judgment because of what we lack? Oh my good man, do n't be so quick to judge! ``, he says with a mischievous smile.
`` N -- No, I'm not judging! I just have a very heavy work load and I need to be out of here in a timely manner'' I rush out the words, trying not to offend. I am a man of all people and I do n't want to hurt anyone's feelings.
`` Ah, busy worker man, huh? Well then, let me get straight to the point. Let me show you what Agricola is about, then I'll let you leave. ``, his face is not smiling anymore but he appears to speak differently now. Confidence and bravado fills his voice and he gives an aura of pure confidence. It's intimidating because it came from no where and it chills me to the bone.
He stands up out of his raggedy old chair, it creaks louder than my old grandpa's rocking bench. He walks over to a small painting of his planet on the wall and touches the top of it. Then he mumbles something.
``... and they will all bow.''
All of a sudden, the painting hinges down towards the ground, only hanging by what was the bottom. Behind it, a beautiful glowing button illuminates the whole room, it's colors changing faster than I can keep track.
`` Ok Mr. Inspector. Hold on to your marbles!'' he says with his biggest smile yet.
He gently pushes the button with his index finger. I brace myself while closing my eyes, my body tightening as if I am about to take a punch. I wait a few seconds expecting something to happen but nothing does.
`` Is this a joke?'' I say with frustration. I do n't like being scared.
`` No, my goodman. Take a look outside. Let me show you OUR Agricola.''
I walk to the front door and open it up, my heart is racing faster than it should be. Why am I frightened?
I began to push it gently, as if I am trying not to wake anybody. My eye's widen as I see what this old man has in store for me.
Somehow, we've teleport... or maybe we flew? My mind is trying to grasp the situation that I somehow managed to get myself tangled in.
We are in the middle of a busy intersection in a city that's more grand than anything I've ever seen. Hover crafts zoom by me, children play in the air, levitating somehow. The skyscrapers that now tower over us extend all the way to space, shooting through the atmosphere, staggering the landscape like stalagmites.
The old man is now standing right next to me. I look over at him, my eyes reaching for an explanation with my voice soon to follow. But it's not a `` him'' anymore...
The most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on is now smiling at me, her green eyes radiate like an imploding star. She almost looks fake, as if no organism could be made so perfectly.
`` You see Mr. Inspector, this is Agricola. We are the outcast, We are the judged. We keep it this way so we can rule under secrecy and without distraction. This is the planet of Gods. Now, since you are here, you can not leave.'' She's glowing but her face is very serious.
`` I'll give you five minutes to take this in, then we begin. Do n't try to communicate with anyone because it wo n't work.'' Her eyes piercing through me, her gaze is almost unbearable
She walks away towards the back of the room and sits quietly, her golden dress floating ever so softly above the worn wooden floor.
I stand in disbelief. This is Agricola?
If this is truly the planet of Gods, then why am I here?
So much for my heavy workload...
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[ WP ] `` it 's not the end of the world , but you can see it from here.. ''
| We stumble forward into the Future, unseeing, unfeeling, Unafraid. Our World spins and goes in circles around a Power which itself is crashing through the Cosmos, indifferent to God and Man. We tip the cap to our Mothers and Fathers as we drag our knives across the throats of our Siblings. Our hands are no longer Tools. We eat Spirits and vomit Gods. Our meal is placed before us, yet we shriek to be Fed. Our Minds are Spiders and we see naught but a veil of Webs. Our numb hands can not part the Curtain, or stop the Thieves that come to us in the Night. Our Hats are pulled down over our Ears, which faintly resound with the cries of the Dying. We tut and keep walking. Anger and Judgement, our lovers in an orgy of Life. We watch our days until we die and we throw our discarded Preparations by the wayside. We are Fat and bloated. We are propelled forward by the strain of Graven Images. We invite our Friends to stand by the window, looking in as we look back and pity them.
It's not the end of the world.
But you can see it from here.
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[ WP ] “ No new horror can be more terrible than the daily torture of the commonplace. ” ― H.P . Lovecraft
| Time was endless. Each day waking to the three horn blasts and the mantras chanted out over the gray seamless speaker boxes. `` Life is service, service is glory, glory is forever.'' Trudging along the queue waiting for the thin stream of lukewarm gruel to be pored into the metal cup that hung from the serving window, I watched the man in front of me. Waiting for him to blow the thin wisp of steam that barely escaped from the cup away before he downed it like a shot.
Passing under the medical scanner on my way out, I felt the familiar tingling sensation along my spine and across my shoulders.
The ceiling showed blue sky, and sun burning through the clouds. The three seagulls were just about to turn as I passed the gateway, and I watched them track across the ceiling tirelessly.
I started with unlocking the cap and screwing the tube counterclockwise with my left hand as I anchored it with my right. With the casing removed, I could now access the wingnut and grasped it between my thumb and forefinger of my right hand and turned it slowly to the left. With 10 full rotations the bottom dropped into my left hand and I set the two pieces on the table. I lifted the plastic dome of the scrubber and placed each piece in the matching cradle. I shut the lid and the machine made the high pitched whiring noise I'd grown so accustomed too. Thirty three seconds later the noise stopped and I opened the lid again. After licking my fingers I grabbed the plastic bag off the stack between my thumb and forefinger of my lefthand and pulled it open with my right. I placed the pieces into the bag starting from the left of the scrubber. The self seal engaged when the weight matched up and I placed it on the conveyer belt behind me.
I had just finished another air purifier and placed it on the conveyer when I heard a sound I had never heard before. It was like when the buildings wall had fallen, the rumble you could feel inside you. I kept my head and hands steady and grabbed another purifier. When the wall had fallen, some people were relocated.
The ceiling cracked open and the summer sky and seagulls came tumbling down. In its place was a gray expanse, forks of blue and white reached out from above. The shape of the thing was hard to discern, it was rolling or turning, but on more axis than my mind could comprehend. It seemed be be rotating from the inside out. The colors shifted as it turned, from black blue to vermillion and ocher. I watched as lines reached out from the roiling mass, whisper thin and pulsing with a red glow, they touched down on the foreheads of some of us looking skyward, and I heard another sound I never heard before. The screams were loud and I could see the pain in the taut faces and tensed bodies. But I did n't hesitate I moved forward to the closest line, watching the mass of flesh and light and power above me. I reached out with my hand and said `` thank you''.
P.S first time doing this, was on a phone, sorry for any errors.
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[ WP ] A medival fantasy Kingdom goes to war with a futuristic society with advanced technology . Both sides underestimate each other .
| It was an easy conquest.
No arrows, magic or knight's code could quite match the fire power of a photon cannon to the face. Exemplar Whist took more satisfaction in not losing a single one of his own men during the conflict, than he did in the thousand small piles of ash where metal once stood. This went on for many weeks as the territory of Boral Six expanded.
Only one casualty was recorded across the entire invasion. A senator's son who took no mind to the Boral's impenetrable projectile defense matrix, and took it upon himself to gloat in the faces of our enemy.
To their credit, they took exception to that.
The Auros Fleet would lift them from field to keep, annihilating any resistance they met. Between these short two minute hops, Exemplar Whist would rank a few more points in his competitive Digital Disque games. Then Whist's battalions would teleport within a few yards of these boastful metal'forces' who called upon their God. This summoning never had any effect beyond the combative morale of these metal men. To our surprise, they underestimated us in those first hours. So we activated our defense matrix, fired a few photon cannons to the face and that was that.
Rinse and repeat.
It was an easy conquest.
The Kingdom also had these creatures called *mages*. Too bad they gestured and babbled before actually completing anything. The Exemplar would have looked forward to seeing their tricks, but orders were orders;
Assimilate the Kingdom. Establish Boral Seven.
And so, he did. The conquest was over, the Kingdom government was summarily removed, and the rest was left to the Architects. Constructing the foundations of Boralis was beneath him. He had spoils of war to transport to Boralis Prime. Stories to tell. Wives and offspring to check on. His work was done.
The retribution began two weeks later.
It started with his soldiers. Seventy percent of his forces in the conquest of Kingdom fell ill, and passed away days later. They would later identify the cause as an illness centuries old that once raged through the infancy of Boralis. By the time his organologists discovered patient zero, it was too late to take quarantine measures; The spoils of their conquest were spread through three sectors of the Boral imperium. Including Prime.
Half his wives passed away. The capital population was decimated by sixty three percent. When martial quarantine measures became severe enough to combat this white death, the Kingdom's revenge was more than complete.
Now it was beginning to prove fatal for Boralis. Rival imperiums mounted their forces near the outpost sectors. Exemplar Whist was at marginal combative capacity with his remaining forces stretched far too thin.
As the enemy offensive began, the Exemplar remembered His Highness' last words as he was dragged from his stone command center, ending the conquest of Kingdom;
*'' A White Death, I curse on you. *''
His regret was cosmic as the enemy ships motioned towards Exemplar Whist's defensive line.
For now, he would defend Boralis Four.
His arrogance could be cursed in luxury afterwards.
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*More at r/galokot, and thank you for reading! *
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[ WP ] All life on earth came from bacteria that was deposited by an alien filling up his water bottle . One day he realises he left his wallet there .
| `` Mum?'' a tiny voice came from behind the seats of the ship. They were zooming past the vastness of space, a family of three on a road trip to explore the universe.
`` What, sweetie?'' the figure in the front seat responded. It turned behind to check on its offspring, slightly annoyed that the young one could n't sit still, like all mothers do on long road trips.
The smaller creature at the backseat stared guiltily at its mother with its dozen eyes. `` I think daddy left his wallet back at the bluey-greeny planet we visited.''
`` What?!'' the creature seated beside the mummy exclaimed. The ship swerved to a stop beside Planet Zarpadoxlrtiz, which was well known for its ridiculously naming convention. After all, who come comes up with the name of Zarpadoxlrtiz?
`` Where?!'' the father creature asked, in rather loud voice, his head throbbing with different colours, though most of them of the red variety. In their species, that was to be taken as a sign of anger, which explained why an uncomfortable silence fell over the occupants of the ship.
After what seemed like a while, the mother finally spoke out, being the other only adult in the ship. `` I think your son, meant the one where they had lots of volcanoes and some boiling oceans.''
The father slapped his flippers on his head, more red bubbling beneath it. `` It would take forever for us to fly back at our current speed,'' he groaned and indeed, he was right. They were taking their own sweet time during the road trip, dropping by every uninhabited planet and taking tons of pictures that could fill up 10 photo albums on Google+, the galactic version of Facebook.
Until today, the engineers at the faraway Galactic Google HQ were still scratching their head on how they lost to a nerdy human inventor called Zuckerberg, which strangely rhymed like Suckerberg.
Before the family could do anything, however, the familiar siren of the UTP, or the Universal Traffic Police approached their idling vehicle.
`` Hands in the air!'' one of the officers shouted as he floated out from the cruiser, a weapon in his hand. After the recent horrorist attacks, idling ships near any planets have been classified as threats, to be treated with extreme caution.
`` Step out from your vehicle and show us your ID,'' the officer screamed again through his mouths, because he has three of them, as he slowly approached the ship.
The father cursed as he stumbled with putting on his spacesuit, asking the officers to wait through the ships speakers. When he finally stepped out, however, with his flippers up in the vacuum of space, he was still shot with the stun gun, as the officer deemed his still pulsating red head as too much of a threat.
The case would later spark a movement called the Redhead Matters that demands for better treatment towards their species across the galaxy, while Planet Zarpadoxlrtiz became the unlikely ground for protests over the next few orbit cycles.
The father's wallet was subsequently found by a human called Ridley Scott as he was hiking through the hills behind the house. Mr Scott found the wallet intriguing, though he did not think much of it other than a prank left by some alien enthusiasts group. He did, however, came up with an idea for his upcoming film, having been plagued with a mental block since 1979.
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/r/dori_tales
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[ WP ] You wake up hungover and late to work , when leaving the home you start to notice numbers above other peoples head . You quickly realize these numbers represent how much the person actually likes you .
| So here's the story. I get home really late on Sunday night because I had one too many beers at the pub. Monday morning's a bitch because I'm ridiculously hungover to the point where I'm trying to throw up but just ca n't. I get out of the bathroom and glance at the clock. I'm an hour late, and I'm just barely presentable. A passive aggressive note on the refrigerator from my wife is the last thing I see as I run out of the apartment.
When I get on the bus is when I first notice it. Zeros, floating above everyone's head. I literally wipe my eyes to see if they go away, and they do n't. I've never done that before -- wiped my eyes to make something go away. This is really weird. The 62 bus lurches a little bit during a turn, and I bump into this old guy, and he gives me a nasty look like I just ate food off of his plate or something. Then something weird happens. His number changes from zero to -50.
So I'm thinking, what's that about, and I glance around, at all the floating numbers. They're not all zero after all. One guy has a -10. I make eye contact with an old woman and smile out of politeness. Her number changes to +25. Is this some kind of karma? Did God expose some system internals to me here, I'm wondering?
I get off the bus about as confused as an Englishman in a Japanese train station and run into work. All my coworkers have the numbers. +20, -40, +50, -65. My team mates are all scrambling to get together a last minute report, and their numbers are all negative. At this point, I'm starting to piece it together. This is God's way of telling me how much people like me, or something like that. I decide to test it out.
`` Hey Chuck, sorry I'm late,'' I say, and as Chunk grimaces, his number increases from -40 to -30. `` Sorry everyone, sorry I'm late. I'll buy the whole team lunch!'' The numbers start increasing. Donna and Skip's numbers actually jump from negative to positive. Then my boss walks in with a big -100. `` Bill, you're fired,'' he says. And that's how I got fired.
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[ WP ] Write a story about a character of a story whose story never got finished .
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Nel sat staring out her window at a starless night sky. That is all she ever did, all that she could do. After many years that was all her story ever was; a single sentence.
She was so very excited when it first got written, finally her very own words to explore and to play on. Nel's excitement soon turned to confusion when no more words ever came and finally she became completely dispondant when she accepted that her author had completely forgot about her.
Nel was a quiet story, not the kind that demanded your attention or made waves. But tonight Nel could n't stand the confines of her sentence any longer, tonight was the night that she crawled out from between the covers of her empty book and demanded to know why her author forgot about her.
And this is exactly what she did. As Nel flipped open her cover and crawled out of her book, she looked upon a scene she had n't expected. There were characters standing all around a grey-haired old woman. They all had smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. One-by-one the characters kissed the old woman's cheek and said, `` thank you for your words.'' Finally it was Nel's turn. The dying author look at her a bit confused before recognition flashed across her face.
`` Oh Nel,'' said the old woman,'' I'm so sorry, I forgot about you. But you were so quiet and never said a word. Next time someone finds you be more demanding.''
Understanding her mistake, Nel bent her head, kissed the old woman's cheek and said, `` Thank you for your words.''
Nel then returned to her book, laid on her bed that lay roughly across the word'out' and began to cry. She cried until her tears washed away all the words. Then she slept, she slept for a very long time.
Nel woke up one day with light shining down on her. Above her was the face of a young man. Nel, being very excited about the prospect of having a new author jumped up and ran to the margins of her blank page.
`` Hi! My name is Nel! You must be my new author. Can I tell you a story?''
`` Sure?' said the boy a bit nervously. After all, its not everyday a fully formed character comes jumping out of blank pages at you.
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[ WP ] You are a hard-core anti drug activist , and the decision is on your shoulders .
| `` Do you want to be President or not!?'' my political adviser John Hawthorn asked me. A very hawkish man of middle age stood in front of me asking me the question that I knew this debate would come to. Was this really the end all, be all of the debate?
`` Of course I do John. But does it really have to be like this? Wo n't I be turned on by my base as being a flip-flopper and pandering to the druggies for changing my stance on the issue? Does n't that count for anything?'' What I could n't bring myself to ask was if my character was really for sale.
`` With all due respect Mr. Baker it wo n't matter if they consider you a flip-flopper or not. The political climate is changing and just like gay marriage, marijuana will be legalized eventually. Now is your best chance to jump ship and make a name for yourself. We have millions of dollars lined up ready to take action all you have to say is yes.'' He looked at me the same way you would look at a petulant child when you knew they were going to do something wrong.
I knew he was right too, right now was my best shot at running for President and winning. If I did n't act in this fleeting moment and push for the legalization of marijuana than that moment would be lost and they would have that scumbag Boehner run. Hell, the Democrats were looking to have Jon Steward, a fucking comedian, run for President. They said that he has built a really strong, solid fan base over the years and he would be a formidable opponent. I however, was not convinced that anyone could really take a comedian seriously as a candidate.
`` The field is wide open Perry.'' John continued, `` The people know what they want, they just do n't know that that is you yet. With this statement and the money that will come from it we can ensure that you get elected.''
It felt like he was trying to sell me too hard. Hawthorn had gotten really good at that over the last few years being a lobbyist in Washington had really hardened him. He had become one of the best there was and that's why I wanted him on my team. He was smart and very cunning and his willingness to get his hands dirty, while not unique in Washington, was definitely a plus.
`` Alright. Let me read the statement one more time before I make my final decision.'' I said reaching for the piece of paper clutched between Hawthorn's hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him rolling his as he allowed me to grab it. It was obvious he was becoming impatient.
> Good Afternoon America! I come before you today after much introspection and debate. I have thought long and hard over the issue before us today and have come to the conclusion that the time is right to legalize marijuana in the United States.
> I know what many of you are thinking, `` But Perry, you've been against this from the beginning!'' And you would be right. However, there comes a time when you have to realize that you are on the wrong side of change and that change can be for the betterment of the people. We all know that marijuana has been not only a great health benefit to hundereds of thousands of Americans on a daily basis, but as we have found out in Colorado it can be a great benefit to the tax base as well. Imagine what we as a country could do for our school systems if we had a system like Colorado in place nation-wide!
> Of course the regulations will be tight and law enforcement will be given all the tools needed to be strict on those who sell and use marijuana but I believe that the time has come to make it legal. Just like the time has come for me to run for the Presidency of the United States of America. I look forward to a long healthy debate with my challenger, whoever that may be.
> Thank you and may God bless America.
`` It looks good to me.'' I said, `` Let's make a candidate out of me.''
`` Sounds good sir.'' Said Hawthorn as he smiled and passed me a blunt and pulled out his lighter.
|
[ MP ] The Trouble With Us
| A thousand scents fought for dominance in Jason ’ s nose; airborne grease and oil asserted themselves in one heavy blow, only to be overtaken by the sweet smell of sugary treats, in turn subdued by a gradually strengthening human musk, carried away by a gust of wind and replaced with the smell of rusted steel. A thousand lights held unwavering in the night, as if stars had descended from the sky. Jason ’ s eyes struggled to adjust to the chaotic brilliance, tracing an arch of green along to a yellow tower, down to a massive spinning circle of white; blue light swords and glowing pink necklaces wandered past, all set against the dark sky. A thousand sounds reverberated through Jason ’ s skull; Excited giggles, grinding metal, thrumming electricity, low conversation, screams of terror.
Four thousand distractions, not one of them, not the sum of them, enough to get Cerie off his mind. Where all else failed, Jason knew of only one thing that could succeed: food. He walked up to one of what seemed endless carts, and was scanning the menu for the highest sugar-to-cost ratio when he heard her. Laughter faded, lights dimmed, screams subsided; the world itself ceased to be. He turned to see Cerie, smiling and happy. Like an emotional mirror, Jason felt his lips pull apart and his chest grow warm as he walked towards her, deaf to the call of the confused vendor.
As Jason approached, he realized that she was with a guy; that she was smiling at him, talking with him. Too late to turn back, he could only hope to save face. Cerie seemed to notice him, and in the moment their eyes locked she saw his smile for what it was. She took on an impish expression as she introduced the guy. Jason didn ’ t hear, but he continued smiling and shook hands, all the while wondering how she ’ d managed to set this up.
After a brief awkward silence Jason spoke up, “ Cerie, I know what you ’ re doing here. ”
“ Spare me the woes Jason, you know as well as I that you ’ d been having a terrible time until I showed up. ”
“ Which was a complete coincidence, I suppose? ”
Cerie shrugged innocently, grabbing Guy ’ s hand.
Jason rolled his eyes, sighing, “ Yeah, you can stop that now. You got me okay? Ha, ha. ”
Guy, hopelessly confused, tried to assert himself, “ Hey dude, mind giving us some space here? We ’ re kind of on a date, man. ”
Cerie, who had been about to speak, looked as if she were going to kill Guy by sheer power of will, “ Can it, Gerald. You can go now. ”
Guy, apparently named Gerald, struggled stutteringly for a few seconds, but Cerie ’ s death stare eventually ran him off.
They stood there for some time, assessing what had just occurred or planning what to say next, or just staring at each other until Jason cracked a smile, “ Gerald? ”
Cerie laughed, a bubbling laughter that wrapped around Jason and made him warm. Regardless of how the night started, he couldn ’ t prevent his mouth from uttering a well-worn “ I love you. ”
Cerie grabbed his hand and together they walked along the rows of vendors and lights and sounds, not aware of much more than each other. Eventually they came to the Ferris Wheel, looked up at it, and silently agreed how to spend the next fifteen minutes; bodies and heartrates both rose into the sky.
***
“ I can ’ t believe you. ” Cerie shoved open the door to the safety gate, flailing her arms and yelling to the world.
“ How is this my fault? Everything is something with you! The drama never ends, and it ’ s somehow always my fault. I ’ m sick of it! ”
“ Oh, Mr. Self-Righteous, so glad of you to drop by! It ’ s been so long! What, ten seconds? ”
Jason groaned in desperation, “ Can you just stop it with that and be serious for once? We need to- ”
“ I ’ m never serious enough for you, Jason. ”
“ Well, I ’ m never depressed enough for you! The lengths you go to to see me broken, honestly. ”
For some reason the crowd was eager to let the pair pass on their way to the parking lot, and they arrived quickly at Jason ’ s car.
Jason unlocked his car, “ What do you think you ’ re doing? ”
“ You ’ re going to make me get in a stranger ’ s car, seriously? ”
“ What about ‘ Gerald ’? Or is he a stranger too? ”
Cerie scoffed, turned on a dime and strode confidently away. Jason grimaced then called after her, “ Cerie, wait. ”
Immediately, Cerie turned back around and got in his passenger seat, smiling platonically, “ You know the address, sir? ”
“ Don ’ t need it; but you knew that. ”
Cerie looked over impishly, “ I know, it ’ s just fun to pretend you ’ re a chauffeur. ”
Jason ’ s heart began to beat heavily. “ Oh, is it? ” He said slyly, “ You know, customers are supposed to sit in the back. Here, let me show you. ”
***
~The name Cerie was stolen from'30 Rock'~
Love the song, Lychee!
|
[ WP ] Your SO tells you that you 've been sleepwalking for the past week or so . And that you do strange things when you sleepwalk .
| “ I didn ’ t want to bring it up, I really didn ’ t, but I ’ m worried about you. ” She takes a seat in front of me, a nervous smile appearing on her face. My lips twitch up in a smile, automatic in response to seeing hers, attempting to reassure both her and myself. She looks down at the table and her hand snakes over to take hold of mine. I grip it back, concern welling up as she doesn ’ t look up.
“ What ’ s wrong? ” A pregnant silence follows as she traces old scars on my hand with her thumb.
“ You ’ re sleepwalking. ” I laugh at her response, shaking my head, making her look up at me.
“ It happens sometimes. ”
“ You ’ re, ” She pauses and the concern comes back in full force. “ You ’ re doing strange things for a week or so. ” She shakes her head, eyes moving back down to stare at my hand and the table.
“ Like what exactly? ” My voice sounds curious and worried.
“ W—well, ” She hems and haws, starting and stopping the sentence a few times before sucking in a deep breath, shutting her eyes for a second before speaking, “ You get up, walk out the door and pretend that you ’ re skiing off of the deck. ”
“ What? ” Disbelief colors my statement as embarrassment colors my face.
“ And then you come in and pretend to feed the lizard crickets. ” She pauses for a second. “ I never knew lizards could give cynical looks. Half-asleep ones but definitely cynical. And pissed off. Very pissed off looks. ”
“ Poor Drogo. ” My bearded dragon had been a little grumpy as of late.
“ And on top of all that, when you finish skiing and feeding Drogo imaginary crickets, you come back to the bedroom but you go and curl up in the bathroom cabinet for at least an hour. It ’ s ridiculous. ” Her speech is speeding up as she talks, beginning to move her hands, “ I tried talking to you but you just say that you ’ re in bed. I wait and then you suddenly walk out like something out of Thriller and join me in bed. ”
“ Thriller? Seriously? ” No wonder my back had been aching. Sure I was short but I didn ’ t think I was bathroom-cabinet-size.
“ Yes. ” She states with a firm nod, eyes focused on mine and I ’ m at a loss for words.
“ I suppose that I should de-stress a bit more from work. ” Is the only thing I can offer in response. With being in the full middle of our development cycle, I was stressed the hell out which was probably leading to the sleepwalking. There ’ s a long silence.
“ I know a good way to de-stress you. ” She smiles slyly and I blinked before grinning back.
“ I think I know what you ’ re thinking. And I like it. ” I hold back to her hand but she slides her hand out from mine, gliding to the door and beckoning me. I follow immediately.
|
[ WP ] You are granted two wishes , the first one you use to grant yourself immortality , the second one you wish for your soul mate to have immortality too . Now all you have to do is find them .
| Diaries of an immortal man
Day 1: The future is bright but the reality is bleak. I'm out of right swipes. Hrm maybe I should buy Tinder Pro. What's my apple id again?
Day 2: They should really create a tinder for immortals. Ugh I'm allergic to dogs. Left swipe.
Day 3: Doo do do do-dooo. Swipe swipe swipe. Immortality is great. Edit profile. 2Netflix & Chill4ever. That should do it. Time to rest easy and let my soulmate come to me.
Day 5: What the hell. I just want some mclovin in my glovin. Ooh this one's interesting. Anna, PhD in supernatural humans, avid hiker, dog filter... left swipe. I wonder when my roommates are getting home.
Day 7: Got a match! I gazorpahope she's the one. Lisa, looks pretty hot. Start conversation! `` Hey sexy - wan na bang for the rest of eternity? *SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT*'' Unmatched again. What the hell? Hrm. maybe this is some knockoff immortality.
Day 11: God I'm so horny. What if my soulmate is a dog? What if she's kinda chubby? Like not fat, but not skinny either. What if it's... no... that would be weird. I guess I would be down for my soulmate to be a vegetarian.
Day 13: A wise man once told me that if you repeat something an infinite number of times the odds will eventually be greater than zero. Good enough for me.
Day 17: Derp derp derp. Swipe swipe swipe. `` Immortal looking for fellow soulmate.'' What the fuck kind of weird description is that? She sounds like a debbie downer - left swipe!
Day 19: Hello? Is this Tinder help desk? Yea. yea.. Uh huh. It's kind of hard to describe. No this is n't a prank call. Yea, I can hold.
Day 23: I bet she was n't down anyway. Dumb slut. FUCK.
Day 29: I have a girlfriend now and she's really nice to me. Go suck a dick immortal Karen no one wants you anyway. See you in a million years.
Day 31: Swipe swipe secretive swipe. What babe? No, it's uh my TV. I'm watching Dora the explorer. I said `` Swiper no swipe swipe.'' I know that's not how he says it. Fuck I need to stop vocalizing my internal dialogue.
Day 37: Relationships suck
Day 9999999999999999999999: Can you scoot over you dumb bitch human heater Karen? You're hogging the bed. kthxbye. Ah soulmates for life. Is n't it wonderful?
|
[ WP ] A fantasy story where the hero actually gets the kind of support he ought to be able to get , to help him on his quest .
| I am the tavern keeper of my town and in my younger years I was an adventurer as was my father before me.
I had grown weary of the adventurers life and was prepared to settle down and enjoy my later years surrounded by friends, laughter and good yarns.
The only thing I'd kept from my adventures was a bow and a quill full of arrows given to me by the Feelufs, it was reward for slaying a Troll that would attack their trading caravans.
It has been 4 years now since I first heard tales of the Spider-Queen and her many children.
They all turned out to be true,
our town was once a bristling happy place, with taverns filled to the brim of travellers and adventures alike regaling the townsfolk and anyone who would listen about their adventures and deeds.
I miss those days, I miss the sound of new people.
Many a adventurer had come seeking out the Spider-Queens head and the dominion it brought over her children, it was a worthy quest indeed, free an enslaved town and gain a powerful army the likes of which had not been seen before.
They all fell to her though, every last one of them, after they had fallen she would have her children carry their headless corpse back into the town and lay it at the steps of the Town-hall for all to see as a symbol of her victory and a reminder of her power over us.
This would not happen again, I would not let it.
I myself would stop her, I would free our town.
My first action was to seek out a blacksmith, I would need good steal, only the best would do, only the strongest could withstand her venom.
I'd heard of a fine Blacksmith by the name of Melvyn Trueforge, he had settled outside the town in a small village where he taught his skills to young apprentices.
He was a dwarf as were all good Blacksmiths, and like all good dwarfs he was fond of mead.
I made sure to load a cart with the finest Mead we had in the brewery `` Captain Robins liquid coffin''.
A good name I thought, if knew anything about dwarves it was that they loved the thought of a drink that might kill them, they actually took it as a challenge to drink it all and not die.
I made my way to Melvyn's humble forge, after a days travel I arrived without incident, it was mid morning and the air was still crisp and fresh, still moist to the skin.
I was not expecting to see anyone working a forge or anvil this early but there I saw a flame haired dwarven man hammering out a sheet of what looked to be flat iron.
Me.
`` A little early in the day to be shaping iron is n't it?''
Melvyn.
`` It's not iron my lad, it's an old dwarven steal that yee need te, shape when the airs moist like a lassies quim.''
Me.
`` Is it strong?''
Melvyn.
`` Well yee could take a hit from a giants mace to yees chest and be no worse off, yee canni feel a thing when it's on, that's the secret yee see, it does n't ever stay rigid, it bends and takes the hit for yee''.
Me.
`` How about flames? And a spiders venom?
Melvyn.
`` Ach yee must be mad, there's no spider venom that will melt this armour, and yee need n't worry about flames mi lad, it keeps the moisture from the air inside it, there's no flame that'll burn this, I'll bet my beard on that.''
`` Is that mead I see on your wagon there traveller?''.
`` What are yee then? A brewer?''
Me.
`` I'm on a quest to rid my town of the Spider-Queen and I seek you out Melvyn Truforge, I've come to commission you, to make me set of armour and forge me a great blade so that I may slay this vile creature.''
Melvyn.
`` I've had runnings in the past with the Spider-Queen, she laid waste to mi homeland and killed my lassie and the weyans, I was in the kingdom of the Feeluf's trading mi steal for leathers and furs afor the winter come''.
`` But tell me laddie, what makes you think you can stop her, how can you kill what so many others have failed to?''
Me.
`` Because my friend, I've seen so many before me try stop her and know now where and how they have failed.
I come prepared so as not to waste time running needless errands or trying to earn a reputation with a faction when that time could be better spent preparing for my quest,
I have no-one I need to seek knowledge from I only have my quest to complete, I also have a cart filled with `` Captain Robins liquid coffin''.
Melvyn.
`` Aye so you do, yee give 2 days and I'll make yee the best armour and sword know to us dwarves, in the meantime laddie, yee best rest up and get yeeself a decent bow and arrow, I'd say yee best seeing the Feelufs about that.''
Me.
`` I already have one from them, it was reward for slaying a Troll many years ago''.
Melvyn.
`` So yeer the one then, the nameless adventurer from years back, I heard yeed died at the battle for `` Stubbedtoes castle''.
Me.
`` I'm afraid not, during the seige my horse was spat on by a Stonespit Marauder, as it fell to the ground my leg was caught under it's weight and was crushed as it turned to stone, I passed out from the pain and when I awoke the field was still and silent with the scent of death in the air.
I crawled back to the nearest town where I was taken in by the tavern owner and his wife, they nursed me back to full health, that's when I decided to settle and help them run their tavern, the wife could n't stay with child, so I became like a son to them''.
Melvyn,
`` I see laddie, I'm sorry to hear about yee steed as well.
You know what they say is a good Stonespit Marauder?
It's the one that spits on yee wee man when it's time to consummate a marriage of convenience with the Bakers daughter.
Me.
`` Hahaha''
Melvyn.
`` I thought yeed like that one, now it's time I got started on this armour and sword for yee, I'll take mi payment after the deed is done and we'll have a wee drink to yee victory, yee just bring that witches head to me tee see though laddie right?.
Me.
`` Consider it done my friend''.
Melvyn.
`` Alright then, yee can stop in the barn cs mee house is too wee to fit a big lump like you in, there's no steads in it so dunni worry my apprentices take em with em when they go to see their mammies and daddies, it'll be 5 days before they get back laddie''.
3 days had passed and I said my goodbyes to Melvyn and thanked him for my armour and sword.
They truly were the finest crafted of their kind, the amour and blade seemed to shimmer and speak when the light caught them.
I was especially fond of the helmet and the small stone horse that Melvyn had gilded onto the front, a reminder of my last battle and to always be prepared.
He looked optimistic as I left, maybe he was hoping that my slaying of the Spider-Queen would give him some peace or at the very least make up for his wife and children dying while he was n't there to protect them, he did n't admit it but you could see the shame and frustration in his eyes.
What decent man would n't feel like that?
After 3 days travel I was in'' The forest of the many thorns'' were the Spider-Queens cave lay half a days travel to the east.
As I made my way inward I came to a bridge that crossed a stream, a large troll sprung out in front of my path.
Troll.
`` I be the keeper of this bridge, if you want to cross it either give me gold or solve a riddle, the choice is yours, but know this if you ca n't solve my riddle then it's death I will bring to you. Now what do you choose traveller?''.
Me.
`` Did you build this bridge?''
Troll.
`` What do you mean traveller?''.
Me.
`` Well if you did n't build this bridge, and have no proof of ownership, how can you be the keeper of it?''
Troll.
`` I be the keeper of this bridge.''
Me.
`` You have already said that but what I'm asking is where's your proof?''
Troll.
`` Us trolls have always been keepers of bridges, we do n't need proof, that's the way it has always been.''
Me.
`` I'm afraid you do need proof stating ownership of the bridge, otherwise what's to stop everyone from claiming the first bridge they come across and making a living off of it?
Society can not function without rules and I'm afraid you're breaking them.''
Troll.
``.........''
Me.
`` Think about it for a second, you see a bridge and think `` I can make some gold from this'' only to go under it and find a dwarve or a human or even a Feeluf underneath it with a deed stating that the bridge belongs to them, you have no right or claim to that bridge and just have to accept it, if you went to the kings court they would be in the right every time.''
Troll.
`` Only trolls keep bridges.''
Me.
`` That's a stereo type.
Why would you even want to keep a bridge anyway? With the Spider-Queen in the area there's hardly been any travellers come through this forest in at least a year, you ca n't be making much gold from this, it must be lonely. Surely there's something else you can do, do you have any other skills?''
Troll.
`` I am lonely and business has been slow these past few years, I've been spending more gold than I'm making.
I've always enjoyed coming up with riddles''.
Me.
`` Well there we have it, that's something you can work on, I'll tell you what, why do n't you accompany me to slay the Spider-Queen and when we're done I'll take you back to town and see what use your skill can be put to.''
Troll.
`` I will travel with you then, friend?''.
Me.
`` Yes friend, now tell me can you read and write?''
My new troll friend and I travelled to the Spider-Queens lair, slayed her without much trouble then returned to town were we set up a profitable puzzle-book business, troll would come up with the puzzles and the answers, I would use my spider army to distribute to books all across the Kingdoms.
Melvyn drank himself to death on `` Captain Robins liquid coffin'' he will be missed.
|
[ WP ] You want to go to hell . The entrance test to heaven is so bizarre you ca n't tell which choice to pick .
| `` Master, I'm coming!'' Those were the last words of one Zachary J. Dwellson. A former accountant, loving husband, satanist, and an all around nice guy. He found the ad to join the local sect of satanists on craigslist, and looking to spice up his failing marriage, had himself and his wife instilled in the cult. Now, say what you want about the Dark Lord of Evil, but those satanists really knew how to welcome a pair.
They fell in with them instantly. Rhal'Zecht Nightengale and his wife, Sarah, ran the local sect out of the back of their bakery. Every meeting Sarah and Rhal'Zecht would supply snacks to their acolytes with varying themes. Most of the time Sarah would bake pentagrams and crucifixes ( but you had to eat them upside down, deary ) out of leftover cookie dough. The welcoming atmosphere, diverse audience, contemporary sermons, and scheduled orgies really gave Zachary's life a much needed sense of direction. He and his wife could n't be happier.
Eventually, he got on a first name basis with all of his fellow cult members. Of course there was his wife, Pam Dwellson. There was Rhal'Zecht, who's christian name was Steven, and had met Sarah at a showing of the Rocky Horror Picture show. He could n't forget about Mitch and Mitch, the group's first homosexual pair, which could n't delight Pam further, even if the idea of dating some one with your own name seemed a bit self fulfilling for Zach's taste. And there was Debra, the sweet young girl that everyone was pretty sure was just going through a phase, but better in here with people you know than out on the streets doing drugs.
Between the orgies and the pastries there were the classical rituals. The six of them would gather around and recite from the Book of Belial, tracing intricate circles of the seven hells in a mixture of chalk and goats blood. They burned incense and branded themselves with the mark of the beast.
On the night before the winter solstice, Rhal'Zecht came to Zachary with an offer. `` Hey Zach, you've been with us for about a year, right?'' Zachary brought his red solo cup to his lips and sipped from the unholy liquid within. It tasted like kool-aid. `` Yeah, Abouts. What's up?''
`` Well, Sarah and I wanted to do something special for your anniversary into our little group. So we'd like you to be the main sacrifice for the solstice ritual.'' From behind Rhal'Zecht Sarah gave a little thumbs up, the baker smiling from ear to ear. `` I mean, you've really livened up the place, and since you helped us with those religious exemptions, we just want to give back.''
Zachary smiled and rubbed the back of his head, giving a polite laugh. `` You do n't have to, but I'd be honored.''
On the night of the ritual they adorned him in sacred oils and rubbed his body in grave dirt. They stripped him of his clothing and tossed it to the side, chanting in garbled Latin. Incense burned around him in heavy clouds, filling his nostrils and bringing him closer to his lord. Eventually, as was tradition, one of the Mitches got on his knees and began to service Zachary. He could n't tell which one, and that made him feel a little bad, but not bad enough to stop.
`` Master, I'm coming!'' Those were the last words of one Zachary J. Dwellson. He suffered a heart attack mid ceremony and fell back onto the bakery floor with a thud. A smile on his face.
He awoke several minutes later, nude, in a small cubical. Florescent lights flooded down on him as he looked at the man sitting across from him, tapping insistently on his keyboard. `` Alright Mr. Dwellson, is it? Sorry to inconvenience you like this, but I do n't make the rules.'' The man looked up from him, expression changing from mild disinterest to full disgust in the time took for him to look over Zachary's body.
`` Oh Jesus Christ! Can some one get him a towel!''
( ( Will continue if anyone wants me to, just need to take a bit of a breather ) )
|
[ WP ] You are the cities worst supervillian . Everytime you try to destroy the city you end up saving it from something/someone far more evil than yourself .
| When I first appeared, they trembled in fear. The idea of an unexplained killer robot terrified them. Newspaper headlines speculated about me and people worried they would be the next target of me, The Dreaded Omicron. I struck from the shadows, avoiding conflicts with supers but leaving enough evidence behind to confirm my existence. After a few months I had pulled off well over a hundred jobs and was well on my way to making the army I had planned.
Then things went to hell. The Copper Brothers and the Raven Gang thought I was infringing on their territories and formed an alliance to take me down. They started to hit my hideouts and any jobs I'm trying to pull off. I think one of the Crowfolk put some sort of tracking mark on me. I hate magic, I've always hated magic. Fighting them proved to be a joke. The Ravens charms take a while to charge up allowing me to rush them before they get a shot off and the Copper Brothers' main weapons shoot an energy I can easily absorb, rendering them useless.
The buggers are persistent though. They keep trying to find weapons or prophesies that would work against me and also pulling in more of the underground to try and take me out. We went back and forth sabotaging each others' plans when rumors began to fly that I was an AI created by the now reformed Professor Panic under the guidance of Captain Chrono. The uneducated masses saw me fighting criminals and drew conclusions and disregarding blatant evidence!
To make matters worse for my case, the people I targeted for robberies were primarily people who had excess wealth and a lot of those people were secretly committing crimes to get that wealth. I've gone from an inhuman menace to a fucking anti-hero! Now everything I do seems to only cement this further. I break into a bank only to find a hostage situation outside as thugs cut into the vault. I charge the city with a robotic army as the Ravens are attacking city hall with summoned Daemons. I break into the Triumphant Coterie's headquarters while they were away in a UN meeting, only to find that the group had been trapped inside their base by shapeshifting counterparts. The cherry on top is that I happen to land the finishing blow on the alien mothership with my partially constructed Anti-matter railgun. ( Damn thing ended up imploding for my troubles ) The fools desperately trying to bring me in to the station so they can put a statue of me in one of their parks!
Perhaps I should just switch sides and officially only target the criminal element. Certainly would make my existence easier than trying to explain all these god damn coincidences to other people.
|
[ WP ] In the future , technology has become so advanced that mankind can create robots that can think , feel emotions , and are , in almost every way , like humans . Upon visiting a junkyard , you discover four endoskeletons of these robots and decide to bring them home to rebuild them .
| Day 1
`` More junk? You're loco kid. If you get any of those old junkerbots going, I'll buy you a case of beer.''
That's my uncle, he's an asshole, but a well-meaning asshole. He just does n't know how to express anything without marinading it in machismo first. I usually ignore him or humour him until he leaves me alone.
But he's probably right. It'll be a miracle if I get this hardware going again. Still, it's pretty weird to see stuff this well preserved.
Anyway, I'm gon na get to work. I'll update this entry later with my progress.
Day 2
I stripped the bots down to the basic parts. Turns out that there's only enough equipment to make one functioning unit - and even then, I'm gon na have to pillage some of my other projects for additional hardware.
I've decided to use the outer shell of the biggest bot. He sorta looks like a wrestler or something. Big chemiplast muscles, broad shoulders and a heroic jawline. If this does n't impress uncle, nothing will. I'm gon na have to use the CPU and operating system of the heavily damaged bot. There's no way of knowing what it was or what it was used for, but it's fairly new and it's rare to find such a good CPU in nearly functional shape.
Got ta go to work tomorrow, might not be able to update for a while.
Day 14
Been pulling shitty shifts and have n't had time to work on the bots. Uncle has been threatening to toss them out, but I showed him the wrestler shell and he was well impressed. I've retrofitted the main architecture of the body and I'm starting on the wiring of the electronervous systems. Gon na be a long night.
Day 15
The body has all the basic motor functions. I had to buy some schemas off the Exanet to figure out how to connect the disparate parts, but it was worth it. Using a remote control interface, I got this bad boy walking around the room and posing like a bodybuilder. Best get him some clothes otherwise uncle will start up with the gay jokes and rib me about building a homosexbot in my bedroom.
Probably wo n't update until next week cuz I'm short on cash and I need to iron out all the bad sectors in the OS. It's worse than I thought and I do n't have the cash to buy a repair tool. None of the freeware ones are working on this model.
Day 22
The OS is booting to it's firmware OK state. It just needs to go into the body. I'll be a while connecting all the inputs from the body to the CPU, so will write a longer log tomorrow with my results.
Day 23
It's up. I got everything working and the bot is going through all the diagnostic routines. It's a more advanced CPU than I anticipated and the full diagnostic is going to take 32 hours; including the body attunement phase. It's pretty weird watching it sitting on my bed, twitching and flexing, barking static diagnostic statuses. I've only had to do minor corrections to the servos in the wrists and hips so far. It got up and walked around my room for about 45 minutes, now it's silent - probably booting up the resident personality and it's higher functions, like emotions and cognitive reasoning.
Day 24
Fuck, fuck, FUCK.
I do n't know what's wrong. The bot just sits in the corner, crying and shaking. If I go near it, the bot gets worse. I decided to call him Jose, but he screams when I call him that, saying'THAT'S NOT MY NAME! IT'S ALL *WRONG! *'
I checked everything I could find on the exanet but nothing is helping. I'm gon na have to wait until he runs down and do some tests while he's powered off.
Day 33
Still no idea what's wrong. If I turn off the higher functions he's a perfectly serviceable dumbot. Can carry out basic commands, but no reasoning or personality. Switch the higher functions on and he goes *insane* with grief or rage or something. One place on the exanet suggests sitting and talking to him until he trusts me enough to tell me what's gone wrong.
Unless I want a walking toaster, that's about all I can do now.
Day 67
So I got him to trust me. He still cries all the time but I'm making progress. I've told him about my life here and my family. He seems to have found some kind of common ground. Maybe soon I'll know what's wrong.
Day 72
I had to go looking pretty deep in the exanet to find a definition for what my bot is feeling. Turns out he - or should I say *she* - is *trans/gender*. It's a thing that humans used to feel until embryonic defect detection came along. It's a mismatch between the body and mind. Jose - who I'm now calling Jenny - is experiencing the same thing. All the body inputs scream'male' but her CPU has a female gender identity.
She told me she could n't bear to live in this body and asked me to switch her off.
Maybe one day I'll find enough parts to make a female body.
Until then, she's going in storage.
I'm sorry Jenny; I wish I'd know before I started making you.
At least uncle will get a few laughs out of this.
A *trans/gender* robot. Could only happen to me.
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[ WP ] Russia beat the US to the moon . Write me an American pundit piece about it .
| Russia On The Moon - Capitalism Dead?
In shock the American people have learned last week that the Soviet Union landed three men - cosmonauts - on the Moon. Once again, a bold initiative of the Kennedy administration fails shortly before its planned completion. This is a time to morn the state of our nation, indeed. As with every other possible first in space - from sending a man into Earth orbit, to placing a satellite there, to launching a manned Moon mission, the Soviet Union is showing its strength. The American approach evidently is n't working. Is it the idea that you can simply buy success with dollars, that is wrong? Precious taxpayer-provided dollars nonetheless. To recall: The Kennedy administration started the Moon program 7 years ago. It now employs over 400,000 people nationwide. NASA accounts for a significant fraction of the total national budget. Where is this effort going? Might it indeed be the case that competition does not produce the results in space as it would do with industrial products, say cars - as is demonstrated again and again by the well oiled Detroit business machine? Is business on Earth different from the highly intricate and complex activities in space? For the sake of the American people we hope not, but changes in the aerospace research programs will be necessary. Clinging to superior washing machine or car production numbers will do the American people no good if the Communists conquer space meanwhile. A more cooperative approach, mimicking the collective Soviet research programs appears advisable.
A separate issue, yet an imperfection in our space program connected to the idea to simply buy success, is that the main engineer is a Nazi. Dr Werner von Braun, imported from Nazi Germany where he first developed rockets to bombard allied cities with under Adolf Hitler, is certainly on a proverbial ejection seat now. With the promised successes not delivered, the deal he made with America is falling apart more and more. Meanwhile, the mighty Russian N1 rockets climb into spheres not accessible for the American people, potentially carrying espionage payloads, radio interference devices, or even nuclear weapons. A great nation that can not control the sky above itself, and in a strong-arming with another superpower like the Soviet Union, is certainly going to fall in a short time.
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[ WP ] You buy a special camera at the pawn shop . Every photo you take , it shows a snapshot of 10 years ago . You take a picture of your dog and it shows him 10 years ago when he was a puppy . Everything is all fun and games , until you decide to take a picture of your bedroom one night .
| There your mother stands, over your father, with a bloody knife, in bloody garments. She told you and the police it was a burglary gone bad.
Some poor guy was arrested for your fathers murder 10 years ago and is now serving a life sentence, so you bought the story.
You show your mom and she says she pulled the knife out of your father that night. She says she was in shock and did n't know what she was doing when she found him.
You go to the police department that day and ask if you can read into your fathers case. Despite being against department rules, a sympathetic investigator tells you everything you want to know about the case. He tells you a weapon was never recovered. Its the one piece of the puzzle you can never solve.
You go home, scared and confused. Scared and confused, but hungry. You begin to prepare yourself a BLT. You go to grab the kitchen knife to slice your tomato, but its not there. You feel a sharp pain in your back and everything starts to go black. As you fall to the floor, your mother stands over you with a knife in her hand. The same knife you've used your whole life to prepare meals. The same knife your mother killed your father with.
The investigator walks in
`` I brought over some of the case files from your fathers...''
What he sees stops him in his tracks.
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[ CW ] Write whatever you want , as long as a rubber duck plays a major role
| No, my name is not Luke Skywalker. Other people trained with Yoda on Degobah as well. I ’ m sorry we can ’ t all be as famous as everyone ’ s favorite hero.
Movie montages make everything seem so simple and easy. Want to learn to use the force? Just run around for five minutes with a green guy strapped to your back and a droid whistling unintelligibly at you. Boom, go kill your father and restore peace and justice to the galaxy.
That was not my destiny. Nope, I spent three decades on that rock, slowly learning the ways of the force from Yoda. But this story isn ’ t about those decades. Nope, this story is about the “ trials ” —the Jedi equivalent of a final exam.
I had to confront the cave. My weapons? I did not need them. I took only myself into that cave and I, for one, didn ’ t kill my father/myself in some sort of weird slow motion quasi-dream sequence. So suck on that, Luke.
But the trials are about more than just a psychological exam. For me, clumsiness has always been my biggest weakness. As bad of a shot as stormtroopers might be, Jedi still need to know how to dodge lasers. Since getting shot with a real laser might hurt, the next best thing is to learn how to dodge rubber bullets. Those sting, but they won ’ t burn a hole through you if you mess up. And I always mess up.
But not today. Today, I passed the course with flying colors. Yoda isn ’ t particularly effusive with praise, but I have never been prouder ( oh wait, pride is wrong for a Jedi, right? ) than when Yoda exclaimed “ Mhmmmm! Learned to *rubber duck* have you. Mhmmmm! ”
___
*Sorry for the bad pun u/AllForGlory1. But it made me chuckle. *
*If you are a sucker for* **pun***-ishment, stop on by [ r/mrme487 ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/mrme487/ ). You might particularly enjoy [ this story ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/mrme487/comments/4azd78/wp_you_enter_the_room_to_find_a_chair_a_dental/ ). *
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Last words/thoughts of a leader of a failed rebellion .
| Here I stand in front of a bullet ridden hill. Bodies lie to my right where soldiers pick them up one by one after he or she fall one by one... no one is exempt... especially myself. The general wanted to make a point to me and those who witness these perfectly preformed executions by firing squad. That anyone who leads against the current reign shall share the same fate. I've lost track of how many under my command, friends, and family were executed before my eyes. Hands bounds and any attempt to look away or close my eyes is met with unrelenting force.
I've failed my fellow man by losing. Yet I can not hate those who won. Such as myself these ideals I followed drive me as well as them. We only differ on ideals, but our intentions are good. Maybe this is why I have failed, I think too much, I have compassion and understanding. I accept my fate now just as those whose blood I stand upon.
I finally acknowledge what is staring me in the eyes and not just glancing. Men. They look just like mine but I know they are not. Just typical people, but as they raise the firearms I notice the lack of shacking... completely calm. I want to feel a sense of pity for them because they are now accustomed to killing.
Just before the final order which I heard all week left the commanding officers mouth as I've come to aspect he orders them to stand down. Why! Just as I have accepted my loss, my fate, my DEATH!
`` Unlike those you've lead to your very spot you have a certain worth.'' The officer speaks calmly as my eyes widen and tear. `` You are a walking billboard to those whom dare stand up to our reign as you did. You will not be killed by us for we are merciful. Should you take your own life you are a coward. I do not fear you attempting this again as I stare down your eyes I see the pleading, the begging for my final order.''
I can not even speak, think properly, controlling my shaking, my knees giving out, the tears gushing from my eyes. As two soldiers grab me and drag me away the rage comes fourth, `` Even by destroying everything I've accomplished, everything I've known, I pity you. You are the light as shackles to a slave!''
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[ TT ] You 're walking home after a long , tiring day at work , when a strangers stops you and says , '' HE KNOWS . DO N'T GO HOME . `` , then proceeds to disappear around a corner
| Pinkberry is a exhausting job. I hate it. Several tween girls would stroll on in demanding I put more strawberries on her already strawberry froyo, when no more would fit. After a long hard day at work I like to go home and relax. Today was different. On my way home one of the strawberry girls who I served earlier warned me `` HE KNOWS. DO N'T GO HOME'' then quickly ran off down the street. Crazy people generally do n't startle me, my neighborhood is full of them. The only difference is that earlier in the day the girl was discussing One Direction across from her friend back at the store. What would drive a seemingly normal tween girl to warn me of about going home? The more I thought about it the less I cared. She was probably trying to freak me out for her own amusement. I took out my keys and unlocked my door. It was abnormally chilly inside my apartment. The closer I got to my living room the more I shivered. In place of my couch was a giant cup of frozen yogurt staring right at me. It opened its mouth and greeting me with `` It's about time you've brought work home''.
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[ WP ] a serial killer on the run from the police , he looks for a place to hide , and stumbles into another serial killers home .
| When the door slammed shut, Naomi stood frozen with her back to the door. Her chest was heaving and her mind racing like never before. Speckles of blood were on the right shoulder of her blouse. She was still coming down from the high, but terror had gripped her for the first time in many years.
“ Hey babe. ”
Her husband strode past the doorway ahead of her, greeting her nonchalantly as if it was just another day. The faint smell of caramelized onions reached her nostrils and she momentarily felt normal again. She was safe at home.
Naomi peeled herself from the kitchen door and composed herself, as she had done many times before. She greeted her husband with a soft kiss and firm pat on the ass.
“ Hey, hon. Any news on Max? ”
He reached around to kiss her on the cheek as she passed. “ No calls. I ’ m gon na drive downtown tonight with Allison. Dinner ’ s in ten. ”
Naomi didn ’ t think she had ten minutes. Out of sight of her husband, she kneeled in front of their sofa and sunk her arm into the cushions. Deep inside, velcroed to the bottom, was her emergency bag. She ripped it out and slung it over her arm, immediately moving for her daughter ’ s room.
She walked into the bedroom with a grin, prompting Allison to close her closet door and run across the room into her mother ’ s arms.
“ And what are you up to? ” Naomi asked.
“ Just playing, ” Allison said giddily. She embraced her mother before Naomi lowered her back to the ground. “ What ’ s in the bag? ”
“ I ’ m going on a little trip, sweetie. ” Naomi locked eyes with her daughter. “ I ’ m gon na be gone for a while, but I ’ m coming -- ”
Naomi trailed off as a deeply familiar scent slapped her in the face.
“ Where are you going, mommy? ”
Naomi ignored her daughter, slowly rising to her feet with her eyes fixed on the closet. She knew that smell. Allison followed Naomi as she crossed the room and tugged open the door. Death filled the bedroom and Naomi felt her daughter suddenly cling to her leg.
Naomi had castrated men as they screamed in agony. She had pulled organs out of her victims with her bare hands while they were still alive. She had killed more men than she could count. But the contents of that closet were the first thing that ever took her breath away. She swung around, staring into the eyes of her daughter.
“ Mommy. ”
Allison ’ s face was made of stone, awaiting her mother ’ s reaction. Naomi took her child into her arms and swung her away from the closet. She fell to her knees as emotion consumed her.
“ Allie, baby… ”
In the back of the closet laid Max, the Labrador that Allison had grown up with. Beach Barbie stood erect from his deteriorating neck, with her feet buried into the canine ’ s arteries.
“ We were playing, mommy. ”
Naomi was shaking. She let the bag around her shoulder fall to the floor and clung to her daughter. All plans of escape fled from her in a shocking moment of empathy she wasn ’ t prepared for.
A loud crash from the front of the house jerked Allison ’ s attention away from her mother. Naomi shut her eyes as her husband ’ s incredulous voice was drowned out by shouting. The whirring blades of a helicopter were approaching the house. It was all crashing down.
Four police officers stormed the bedroom, guns aloft. Naomi looked at each one of them in turn, sheltering her daughter ’ s head from reality. She turned her daughter around and released her onto the floor. As Naomi kneeled, hands on her head in front of Allison, she whispered to her daughter one last time.
“ We ’ re gon na help you, baby. ”
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[ WP ] No one was surprised by the villain 's typical 'Join me and we can rule the world ! ' offer . Everyone was surprised at the hero 's response .
| `` No, you join me.''
`` Then you shall d- I'm sorry, what did you just say?'' asked a suddenly-bewildered Tyranicus, Lord of Blight and Bringer of Shadows.
`` I said you should join me.'' replied Sir Palador, his golden-armored hand outstretched toward Tyranicus.
Tyranicus sat on the stolen throne at the top of the flight of stairs in the main chamber, taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. He had donned his demonic armor and dreaded weapon, the Hell Spear, for this climactic battle against Sir Palador. The join-me-or-die thing was simply a delay tactic so his minions could prepare their spell of ultimate power to revive him if ( or likely when ) he fell. This was... not accounted for.
``... why?'' was all Tyranicus could say.
Sir Palador lowered his free hand and rested the handle of the Axe of Glory on his pauldron. `` Let me ask you something, Tyranicus. Let's say you kill me here. No one's left to challenge your reign and the kingdom remains in your iron grasp. What then? What's your next move?''
`` What else? I win! I become king and rule over the land. All shall worship me!'' Tyranicus cackled and pounded his chest with his fist.
`` And who is'all', exactly? Because if you have n't noticed, the kingdom is now just full of monsters. Your monsters, in fact. Everyone else has fled to the neighboring nations, all of whom have also burnt their bridges and barricaded the roads to prevent any travel or trade into here. The kingdom is entirely isolated and full of your dumb, mute, ineffectual monsters. That's your population. And keep in mind, I say'ineffectual' because while I may be outfitted with the sacred weapons of the Legion of Light, I am still only one man. And if you think I've given you trouble, just imagine what would happen if those countries decided you were too big of a threat and joined forces to end your reign.''
`` Ha! Let them!'' yelled Tyranicus, though with some trepidation in his voice. `` I am to be feared by all who dare oppose me! I shall destroy them all!''
`` And perhaps you would, but what of your kingdom then? Already in the struggle we've shared, half the forest has been demolished, the ancient ruins are now shattered, the Cavern of Mystery is screaming incoherently, the Supreme Vault has been swallowed into the Bottomless Depths, and with the exception of this one room we stand in, the entire castle is on fire. That was against just me. If you were to somehow defeat them, what would your kingdom be, I wonder? A blasted-out crater? A smoldering box that you sit on and call your throne while you survey all of the dirt and mud around you? Is that what you set out to achieve? Will that be the legacy of Tyranicus?'King of a hole'?''
`` Enough! ENOUGH!'' bellowed Tyranicus. At first he thought that the walls shaking as he roared were due to him, but a moment's pause gave him the opportunity to hear another set of support beams from a nearby room had fallen, no doubt succumbing to the damage from the aforementioned flames. Tyranicus glanced out a nearby window and saw what was once a lush green countryside now turned to cinders and ash, thanks in part to his siege against the castle, and partially from defending it against Sir Palador's own one-man raid. He rose from the throne and began to descend the stairs slowly. `` And what would you propose, exactly?''
Sir Palador stood his ground, though his grip on the Axe of Glory tightened as Tyranicus gradually drew near. `` It's clear that you have immense skill, that your mastery of magic is indeed remarkable. You crave more power, but your methods can ultimately only bring destruction and ruin, even for yourself. I contend, Tyranicus, that you would achieve all that you want and more through love.''
`` Love?!'' Tyranicus guffawed as he stood midway on the flight of stairs.
`` You want to be worshiped, do you not? Tell me, who besides the gods is ever shown that much devotion? The mythical heroes of bygone days, the legendary kings and queens who saved our ancestors from peril, the alchemists and inventors who ushered in the Age of Understanding. All of them accomplished feats of immense greatness for the betterment of their fellow people, and their stories and songs have spread through the kingdom and beyond. Even though you destroyed the statues and burned the tapestries, their names and triumphs still persist and will continue to grow because they are loved. And through that love, they are immortal, invincible, and all-powerful. Tell me, do you think the slime monsters that currently reside in your moat will ever sing about your greatness?''
At last, Tyranicus stood face to face with Sir Palador. `` No,'' said Tyranicus, `` I suppose they will not.''
`` Then join me, and we can rebuild this land. If I were to kill you now, I have no doubt the people would sing my praises. But I am more than willing to share the acclaim if you will work beside me and restore the kingdom.''
`` But how? How could you possibly convince them to trust in me?'' Tyranicus asked.
Sir Palador offered his hand once again. `` It's simple. We kill Tyranicus.''
-- -- --
And so it became known that Tyranicus, Lord of Blight and Bringer of Shadows, had fallen. Though the battle was said to be intense, Sir Palador had been triumphant in destroying his enemy's forces and bringing the fiend to his very knees. However, it was the wizard Tirodar who had dealt the finishing blow and slayed the would-be king, according to Sir Palador himself. Together, Sir Palador and Tirodar would spend years undoing the damage caused by Tyranicus, and Tirodar would later be known as `` Tirodar the Mysterious and Wise''. And though stories spread of both heroes, the story of Tirodar's origins would remain a secret forever.
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[ WP ] You get to pick your enemy 's next life .
| Light radiated. The angel was waiting, though I knew only from an inexplicable feeling. There was nothing humanoid about the being; the angel was simply a thing of blinding light and a feeling of warmth and love. And yet, it waited for my answer.
The next life. In this place of peace and silence, I had not even dreamt of a next life. But here the angel was, and now I had to choose. And the question? Definitely not the one I would have expected, had I time to think about it prior to this heavenly interview.
My life-long nemesis, Jill Brischke; who would she be in her next life? I know; this seems like a strange thing to ask me. We loathed each other. On occasion, it had seemed as if we existed simply to torment each other, like superhero and villain, locked in eternal combat.
Who was Jill to be, in her next life? Averting my eyes from the shimmering light, I considered. Should I try for some final revenge; she could come back as a skunk. Perhaps benevolence was the correct answer, I thought, squinting as I risked a sideways glance at the angel.
“ So, let me get this absolutely clear. Jill is beginning life anew. As am I, and my fate has already been decided by someone who shall apparently remain nameless. Is this correct? ”
Again, it was no signal or gesture or voice, simply a feeling, that told me I was indeed correct. Breathing deep and then exhaling slowly, I nodded.
“ Then, I would like Jill Brischke, my old enemy, to be reborn as my new enemy. We had so much fun plotting against each other. I reckon I ’ d like to have another go! ”
The blinding light vanished, sucked into blackness. There was nothing. And then, slowly rising like the first blush of dawn, a red glow that began as a speck and grew. My new life was beginning.
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[ WP ] you found a book that foretells the rest of your life based on all the things you 've done so far , if you tried to change the outcome the book will recalculate the outcome and rewrite itself .
| `` Dies at 28 years, 7 months and 3 days on Saturday, 2 May 2015 as a victim in an armed robbery at the pharmacy on Saxons and Fifth. Thus ends the life of Mr. Andrew Francis Elmore, born Sunday, 5 Oct 1986, son of Mr. Jeffrey Dean Elmore and Mrs. Carol Suzanne Edwards, brother to Christopher Mark and Gail Marianne. Tragic, really.''
I sat, dumbfounded, staring at the words neatly printed on the page. I had picked the book out of the'for sale' section at the library on a whim, attracted by its bright, cheery blue color. And, once I had returned home later that day, I had flipped to the last few pages of the thing to check out how the story was going to end -- I'm not one who likes being held in suspense.
But -- but -- whatever it was I thought I was going to see, it definitely was n't my own full name. Certainly not the names of my immediate family. It was -- I did n't know *what* it was. Numb and shaky, I returned to the beginning of the book and attempted to make sense of things. Well, not immediately. There seemed to be a vast number of blank pages in the first half of the book, and there was n't a table of contents ( or page numbers, for that matter ) to give the reader any idea of where they were in the story.
In fact, words did n't show up until two pages ( it was a thin book, but still -- this was ridiculous ) before the last, terrible page I had read only moments before. Unsettled, I took a deep breath, and began to read. `` Wednesday, 29 Apr 2015. 9:00 PM. Has dinner, watches *Groundhog Day*, goes to sleep. How eventful. Thursday, 30 Apr 2015. Goes to work. Goes out to the pub for a pint with coworkers. Watches the soccer match. Returns home, passes out on couch. Classy. Friday, 1 May 2015. Goes to work with a mild hangover. Quite well-deserved. Lectured by boss on dreadful, shameful, appalling appearance. Also well-deserved. Returns home and considers life choices, which up to now have been boring and mundane.''
It was n't a prank. That much I knew. There was no way one of my siblings or friends or coworkers could have published a book this quickly, for one thing. Furthermore, there would be no *point* in going about a prank in this matter.
The unsettled feeling from earlier was only growing stronger. I reached for my cellphone and called my brother. `` Chris?'' I said. `` You know how I was going to refill that prescription on Saturday? Yeah, I figure I have enough to last me until next week. Yeah. In fact, how'bout you and me go fishi -- no? Okay. Uh-huh. Bye.''
The book, where I had placed it on the kitchen table, slammed shut. I gawped at it, shuffling backwards until my back was pressing against the oven. How? How. This was freaking unbelievable. After a minute had passed, and the book showed no more signs of moving, I edged forward and gingerly touched the book's cover. Nothing happened. Cautiously, I flipped it open to a random page. There were more words this time, I observed with some shock. Breathlessly, I turned to the last page.
`` Dies at 90 years, 2 months and 11 days on Wednesday, 16 Dec 2076 from old age. Thus ends the life of...''
I scrubbed at my face, feeling completely... out of sync. One phone call had changed what appeared to be the entirety of my existence. This was something freaky. This was the supernatural stuff Mom had always warned me about -- *you stay away from ouija boards now* -- this was -- well, it had saved my life. Probably. Maybe. If it was to be believed.
I took out my cellphone again, slowly, deliberately, and dialed my coworker's number. `` Hey, Jerry? You know how the guys were talking about going out for a pint this Thursday? Yeah, I think I'll pass this time. No, no, I'm fine. The boss has been on my back this week and I do n't want to risk anything. Sure, sure, next week'll be fine. Yeah. Talk to you later.''
As soon as I hung up I lunged for the book and found the relevant page. `` Thursday, 30 Apr 2015. First of coworkers to show up at work. Is commended by boss for work ethic in light of coworkers' late arrival. Incredible in how rare such work ethic is to be found normally in his attitude.''
The clincher, I thought, was to see how it all played out on Friday and Saturday. If everything went according to what the book said now... well. That would be something indeed.
-To be continued maybe-
**EDIT**: Wow okay the elaboration on the prompt was NOT there when I first started writing. Uh. Well then. Kinda do n't want to rewrite all of that. Uh. I'll get back to you.
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[ WP ] Rather than humans having a definitive sex upon birth , one does not fully develop into the man or woman they will become until adulthood . Tell us your story .
| I remember being 13, going through those awkward body changes. Everyone fought for their side, to recruit one more because they were better for this reason or that. I remember for weeks the tension mounted in that I would surely lose friends based on this decision.
People would sell their decision to get family out of debt, resigned to be whatever the highest bidder decided for them. It was crazy. The ones that wound up the opposite of what they wanted spending the rest of their life convincing people they were n't really who they appear to be.
I asked my pastor, who told me not to worry that the will of God would prevail. That made it even more awkward and no sudden premonition hit me of what I should choose...
That was over 50 years ago now. Everyone still looks at me weird for never deciding which I should be. It's been lonely, but the rare few who agree with me say I've spent an entire life being who I am.
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[ WP ] A disease that makes people Immortal is rapidly spreading across the globe . A single group of people are doing everything in their power to avoid being contaminated .
| “ Ughh, who would want to live on this lame planet forever, ” Clint asked, puffing on a cigarette. His dark eyeliner was streaked and his straight black hair ( naturally curly ) partially covered his eyes which were red from little sleep.
“ Tell me about it, ” Ricardo sneered, adjusting his suspenders. Ricardo had long curly hair that peeked out from under his gray wool beanie. “ It ’ s fucking hot in here, ” he whined picking at his garish red flannel. “ Are those Morts gone yet? ”
“ As if, ” Clint replied. “ Not like they have anywhere to be. They barely need to eat anymore. They only sleep two hours a night and they ’ re all so fucking happy! ” His anger accented his speech but he took a breath to reclaim his calm. “ But, whatever, what do we care if they want to be sheep and live forever. Fucking Morts. ”
The room stank of cigarettes and stale coffee. The only sure way to fight off the plague was a steady intake of both. Gathered here was a rueful group. Some dressed like peacocks who were taken in by lumberjacks, some garbed in black blacker than the coffee that was even blacker than their poor blackened souls, and a few genuinely depressed or insane. They had banded together to try and avoid the plague that was ravaging the planet. Immortality is seemed was contagious.
It started with one man seeming crushed by a car but unhurt when the dust cleared. It was a Viral sensation. Then it started spreading. Accidents where there should be no survivors, fatally sick people suddenly returning to their prime. There were a surprising number of deaths too. It was like people had caught immortality fever. The first theory was that you needed to undergo a traumatic, near death experience in order to trigger what was later determined to be an alien parasite that granted seemingly magical healing, enhanced energy conversion, and increased senses in exchange for not smoking or drinking coffee more than a few hours old.
“ Just the idea of having those worms in my blood creeps me out, ” Ricardo inhaled his cigarette desperately. “ Can we turn on the AC? ”
“ I know, and no, ” replied Clint. “ Were almost out of cigarettes and the last thing we want is one of those Morts sticking their noses in here. Besides I hope we ’ ll all be dead soon. ”
____________________
out of time
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[ WP ] Other mutants got cool powers , like flight or telepathy . Your name is Graham , and you do n't need a seat belt .
| `` Goddammit Shawn! I just had got this car back from the cleaners'' Alice yelled, Shawn ignored her and continued changing from gas to liquid, Graham looked at the darkness besides him. `` Umm guys? `` He said softly, the two took no notice `` Uh guys? Theres something out there `` he raised his voice, Shawn looked out the window `` Holy shit, Alice look out'', a loud bang flipped the car on its side another bang from under it made it do a barrel roll on the asphalt. Shawn turned to gas, while Alice and Graham braced for impact. Everything happened in slow motion, glass shattered, metal grated on the road and alice shrieked.
Seconds later Graham was floating good 80ft above the now wrecked car, `` no no no no I cant be dead `` he gasped and patted himself on his arms chest and legs. Dead people who float above car wrecks often contemplate their life, the choices they made and how it could all have been different. People floating 80ft above car wrecks often think only one thing, that gravity has noticed a mistake and is now correcting it. Graham fell with gravitys consent and as panic induced humans do when falling from great heights closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his head and screamed a well known obscenity that rhymes with Buck. Several things went through young Graham's mind in the next few moment, not one of them was the road.
He gasped and inhaled `` holy fuck! ``, he was a foot away from the now flaming car, he saw Alicia caught in the driver seat unconscious. `` Come on come on'' he said to noone in particular and pulled at the seatbelt, the flames now licked the gas tank and threatened to consume the car. `` Alright then, this better work'' he grabbed her by the shoulder closed his eyes and pictured himself a few feet behind the flaming wreck. *Vwomf* he was behind on the road with a still unconscious Alice. `` I can teleport, holy shit i can tele- `` his thoughts were cut short by Shawn screaming `` Is that all you got you fat fuck?''. Graham stood up and saw what prompted Shawns remark. Now solid like a mound of iron, now gas, he was being battered by a solid block of shadow the size of a small elephant or a regular rhino. Graham vwomfed his way next to Shawn `` the fuck you come from? ``, he said looking at him. `` Watch this `` Graham said with a wide grin and appeared behind the mass of shadow, `` hullo'', he said to the mass grabbed it and then both of them disappeared.
The earth appeared as a big round plate as they materialized on the ionosphere, Billy let go of the now visibly confused mass of shadow as it re entered the lower atmosphere, motioned bye-bye and disappeared.
`` What the shit happened? `` Alice said waking up, she saw the flaming wreck that was her car and groaned, Shawn gave the universal signed of'I have no idea'. `` Graham what just happened?'' Shawn said genuinely confused `` And where did that thing go?'' Graham smiled and pointed towards the sky and slowly brought his finger down following a bright burning lump of black that came in with a whizz and landed with a splat 10ft from them coating them with a shade of blackish pink slime. `` So big news `` Graham piped up `` I wont be ever have to wear a seatbelt now'' he said laughing `` come to think of it, now I wont even need a car ``. Shawn laughed, Alice looked at her car and just groaned. `` Come on ill give you guys a ride home'' he said laughing and vwomfed home.
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[ WP ] `` Do not go to sleep . ''
| Emily was tired. A young mother, she had bags under her eyes that seemed to stay there permanently. A young *single* mother, she had no choice but to heave a sigh when her energetic 6 year old boy *insisted* she read him another story.
`` I've read you every one we have,'' her voice creaked like an old door.
`` Mama!''
Could she afford to keep the lights on this late?
`` Read me *Cinderella* again.''
Could she afford to not be in bed right now? She wondered if she could sneak a nap in during the fifteen minutes she had before her boss walked in....
`` *Mama*!''
`` Alright, alright.''
Stephen climbed back into bed and drew the covers up around his neck. He sat quietly as Emily took the large storybook upon her knee and flipped around until she found the painted picture of a young blonde girl sweeping, surrounded by golden sparkles. The storybook was so old. She had it when she was a child - it had been passed down for generations. Only when *she* was younger, she read it by herself. Stephen had yet to pick up reading and writing the way she had. He insisted on cartoons instead, doodling his own characters all over the bills.
`` That's my favorite picture,'' Stephen said, looking down at the book.
`` Mmm,'' was all Emily could muster, before she blinked slowly. `` Once upon a time...''
Stephen stayed quiet the whole time. He tried to stop his mind from wandering because he *had* to keep his attention on his mom, but he could n't help it. The ugly stepsisters were desperate to have their faces crafted. Cinderella's show-stopping gown needed to have a color and a shape picked out. He briefly closed his eyes while his mother's voice grew more and more quiet, until both of them were sitting in silence, dreaming.
In his mind's eye, he saw a tall, domineering woman. The stepmother? Her dark hair cradled her head and her lips were in a thin, tight line. She smiled.
`` Do you think you're going to the ball dressed like that, Cinderella?''
Stephen jolted awake, his limbs flailing. His mom had fallen forward on his bed and was kicked in the mouth when he woke up. She was *steaming*.
`` Stephen!'' She huffed. She lunged forward and grabbed both his shoulders. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair a bird's nest. `` Stephen, mommy's going to bed now. I'm going to go to my bed and *sleep*.''
`` No! No! I want another story-''
Her head was clouded. `` Stephen, I love you, Mommy loves you but I ca n't do this anymore. It's time I put my foot down-''
Time seemed to slow down for Stephen. He blinked and brought his hand forward, hard, across her cheek. Emily stayed silent as Stephen's eyes filled with tears.
`` Please do n't leave,'' he whispered.
She blinked and shook her head. `` We'll deal with this in the morning.'' Her vision grew blurry and she blinked, hard. Again, and again.
`` No!'' She stood up to leave, and Stephen lunged for her hand. `` You do n't understand, Mom. Mom, I need another story!''
`` I ca n't be around you right now, Stephen. Mommy's tired. I feel like I've been up for....'' She stopped and shook her head. `` I need to go... to bed...''
All of a sudden, she dropped to the floor, her upper body landing on Stephen's bed and sliding to the floor.
`` No!'' He screamed, throwing his blankets off. `` No, Emily, please. Do n't go to sleep. Do n't go to sleep!''
The light swirled into darkness. Stephen stood heaving sobs over Emily. He had one job: keep her awake.
`` Hmm.''
Stephen looked up at the woman. Her dark hair cradled her head, her lips in a thin, tight smile.
`` We had a deal,'' she said flatly.
`` No,'' he sobbed. `` No, you said that... if she... our deal was that-''
`` *'If she laid her head on a bed. * That was the deal.''
Stephen's eyes grew wide. Damn technicalities. Emily was so *close. * She had already stayed up 25 years, 8 months. Five more years and the curse would have run its course and she could rest, really rest. Magic could only do so much.
Stephen looked down at her. Her dark blonde hair was spread around her and she looked almost peaceful. Her hands were folded on her chest. If Stephen had n't known any better, he would have thought she were in a deep, deep sleep. And she was, in a way.
All he could do was step back as the Queen bent down to rip Emily's soul from her body. To her, this was nothing but petty revenge for a missed invitation, 25 years earlier. But Emily had lived a life outside of the curse, outside of the very kingdom that both she and Stephen were sent away from for her safety. And he stood by her for her whole life, making sure that late night parties turned into breakfasts, then study sessions... all so she would n't go to sleep. In one second, it was over.
The Queen stood up and adjusted her self.
`` Tell my sister it was a pleasure doing business,'' she smiled, mischievous and playful.
She left the same way she came, bringing back the light as she disappeared. And Stephen was left with a dead princess, cradling her head in his lap.
( I'm not sure if it was obvious, but I tried to tell an alternate Sleeping Beauty. )
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[ MP ] Write me a story based on your favorite song .
| Breathless, he ducked into the next alley.
*Russians. Of course it would be Russians. *
He needed to find a pay phone. He needed to remember that phone number. That damn phone number. *Who remembers phone numbers anymore? * And as long as he's asking questions to nobody in particular, *why are some many beautiful things wasted? * The $ 2753 dollars he'd left at the poker table. The beautiful woman he'd left back at the hotel room.
*God, she was beautiful. Damn Russians. Damn... *
... A payphone. Surely this T-shirt shop would have a pay phone in the back. He slipped inside, trying to look nonchalant despite the fact his heart felt like it could burst right out of his chest. Yes! He picked up the receiver, dropped a quarter in the slot, and dialed what he hoped was the right number.
*Rosco? Rosco! It's me Warren! SEND LAWYERS, GUNS, AND MONEY! THE SHIT'S HIT THE FAN! *
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[ WP ] You are a ghost that has been roaming the Earth for some time now . After some unusual events , amidst the beginnings of a zombie apocalypse , you see your own reanimated corpse trudge by .
| [ WP ] You are a ghost that has been roaming the Earth for some time now. After some unusual events, amidst the beginnings of a zombie apocalypse, you see your own reanimated corpse trudge by.
*ADULT LANGUAGE AND CONTENT
The Day I Got My Life Back
The only thing worse than being dead, is being dead while the rest of the world is filled with maggot infested shuffling corpses. Suddenly, in a world filled with walking, moaning nightmares, a ghost isn ’ t the scariest thing in the room anymore. Not that I ever wanted to be like, poltergeist scary. I run into those guys from time to time, nothing but giant dicks. They ’ re like the frat boys of the afterlife. But I digress...
There are two things that make the whole “ ghost ” thing bearable. The first should be obvious. I spend the majority of my eternal existence spying on people. And before you get all high and mighty with your judgment let me tell you that it ’ s not so much a sexual thing as it is a reminiscing thing. It ’ s purely coincidental that most of the people I spy on are showering.
The second is haunting people. Again, this sounds bad, but it ’ s not what you think. Whenever you feel that brush of cold air on the back of your neck, or hear the floorboards creak when you know you ’ re the only one home, that ’ s just some lonely ghost trying to get a little bit of acknowledgement. It is fucking lonely being a ghost, and getting a gasp or a scream out of a person is the closest thing we can come to an actual conversation with the living.
But now that ’ s pretty much fucked. Everyone ’ s dead and what replaced them doesn ’ t frighten easily. The whole “ zombie-apocalypse ” thing started out pretty cool, what with the eating people and the mayhem, but that shit was over in about two months. Humanity didn ’ t put up much of a fight, and those that did survive just ended up killing each other anyway. Eventually there was one guy left. Steve I think his name was. He ended up choking on a dehydrated prune. The human race ended with a naked crazy man covered in his own feces. What a way to go.
With all the humans gone I had absolutely nothing to do so I decided to head back to my grave. Lying in your own coffin is the only way a ghost can sleep, and I was dead set – no pun intended – on spending the rest of eternity in dreamland. A lot of ghosts do this after a few millennia of wandering. You just run out of shit to do.
Now there are a few hard and fast rules when it comes to the undead. They ’ re slow, they eat people ( not just brains, zombies don ’ t waste food ), and the only way to kill them is by destroying the brain. I knew all these rules thanks to a lifetime of watching cheesy zombie flicks. It ’ s really a shame I died before all this went down. I think I would ’ ve made an excellent zombie slayer. A few of these rules are a little more vague. For example, do they eat other animals? ( They do ) Do they eat each other? ( They don ’ t ) Do they retain any of their bodily functions? ( The world is literally covered in zombie shit ) One area that a lot of the zombie films neglected to shed light on was whether or not an already dead corpse will rise from the grave. As it turns out, they absolutely will.
Standing before my lifeless corpse, I couldn ’ t help but feel bad for the guy. It had been fifteen years since I died, ten since the onset of the infection. Needless to say the years had not been kind to my former host. What really tugged on the ol ’ heartstrings was that, here was my body who had spent who knows how long clawing and digging his way up through my casket and six feet of dirt only to get his belt loop caught on the iron gate of the cemetery. The poor guy only wanted to join in with the rest of the group and partake in a little flesh fricassee. Yet here he was, doomed to spend the rest of eternity dangling like a fish on a hook.
“ Pssh, hey buddy, ” I heard behind me.
I quickly turned to see a shady looking ghost leaning against a lamppost. He had a fedora pulled down over his eyes and both hands were tucked deeply into his trench coat. “ Why are you whispering, weirdo. ” I said. “ There ’ s nobody around to hear us. ”
“ Sorry, old habits and all. I see you looking that stiff over pretty dearly, kid. Someone you used to know? ”
The resemblance between my current state and the stiff before me wasn ’ t great – they had cut my hair in the morgue – but the street corner ghost should ’ ve been able to figure it out. “ Yeah, that ’ s me. At least it used to be. ”
“ It can be again, ya know? ”
I didn ’ t trust this guy, which has nothing to do with my level of intelligence. He was clearly the most untrustworthy looking person – or ghost – that I had ever seen. It was almost comical. However, he had piqued my curiosity. “ What are you getting at? ”
“ There ’ s a way, but it ’ s not pretty. Names Tommy by the way. Tommy Bahama. ”
“ That ’ s not your real name. ”
“ Maybe it is, maybe it aint. Point is how badly do you want to rejoin the land of the land of the living? ”
“ Won ’ t I just be a zombie? ”
“ Shoot no. Look at him. He ’ s nothing but a bag of meat. What he needs is a soul, and that ’ s what you got my young friend. I ’ ve seen it done before, once. Ghost goes in, real live man comes out. Your body even starts to grow again, all fresh and new like the day you were born. So whaddya say kid, you interested? ”
There had to be a catch. There was always a catch with guys like this. “ What ’ s in it for you? ”
“ Well, let ’ s just say I got a stash sitting in a safe not too far from here. Now, I know what you ’ re thinking, ‘ whatever ’ s in that safe ain ’ t worth a thing to you now, Tommy, ’ and you ’ re right. There ’ s no monetary value to speak of, but there is a certain sentimental value that a man receives from admiring the fruits of his Earthly labors. ”
“ Well then go look at it. ”
Tommy waggled his fingers, “ these ghostly digits won ’ t crack a safe like they used to, champ. I need someone with ‘ fleshy ’ fingers. ”
I actually understood this. It took an insane amount of effort to move even the simplest objects as a ghost, cracking a safe would be practically impossible. I hated to admit it to myself, but despite my mistrust of the man, or ghost, or whatever, I wanted this... badly. This was one of those decisions they put in movies where the guy knows he shouldn ’ t do it, but the temptation is so great he can ’ t resist and it ends up biting him in the ass in the end. I knew this, but it ’ d been so long since I felt anything that a bite in the ass sounded like heaven. “ Alright, what do I have to do? ”
Tommy ’ s face lit up, “ Really? You mean you ’ ll really help me out? You ’ re not just going to bail on me once you reconnect with Mr. Flesh and Blood over there, are you? ”
“ No, man. I promise I ’ ll do whatever you need. Just tell me how to reconnect with my body. ”
Tommy put a ghostly arm around my shoulder. “ Okay, here ’ s what you got ta do. It ’ s not pretty, but it ’ s the only way. You ’ re gon na have to crawl up inside yourself. ”
“ That doesn ’ t sound so bad, ” I said.
“ Yeah, but here ’ s the thing, you got ta crawl up inside yourself... through the butt. ”
“ Gross. ”
“ Yeah, I know, kid. Unfortunately that ’ s the only way. I don ’ t know why, I just know that ’ s the way it ’ s got ta be. ”
“ Well, how bad can it be, ” I said. “ I mean it ’ s not like I can smell anything. ”
Tommy slapped me on the back, “ That ’ s the ticket, champ. Now, no sense in wasting more time, go ahead and crawl up in there, ” and with that he gave me a shove towards my corpse.
I poised myself precariously behind my old butt cheeks. Despite what you may or may not think about ghosts, we can ’ t pass through a solid objects. It kind of makes sense if you think about it. If we did, we ’ d all just end up sinking through Earth and collecting together at the core. We can however compress or contract ourselves. It ’ s not exactly shrinking. Think of it like silly putty. If you squish it flat it gets wider, if you stretch it thin it gets longer. I chose the latter form for my entry into the deep, dark recesses of my anus. I concentrated all of my otherworldly energy and made myself as thin as possible. I didn ’ t want to have a sore ass when I got back into my body after all.
Slowly but surely, I made my way up inside. No man should have to see the inside of his own ass. Period. But there I was, coiled around inside my anus like the world ’ s most uncomfortable snake. I told myself to just go with it, that the ends would justify the means. So I waited, and waited, and waited for something to happen, only nothing did. Outside, faintly, I thought I could hear Tommy ’ s voice. I couldn ’ t make out what he was saying, so I contorted myself around and poked my head out for some fresh air.
That ’ s when I saw Tommy, rolling around on the ground laughing his ass off. “ Bwahahaha! I can ’ t believe you actually fell for it. You ’ ve got ta be the dumbest son of a bitch I ever met! ”
Words can ’ t describe the anger I felt. “ You bastard! I ’ ll kill you ( obviously a figure of speech )! Just wait until I get out of here! ” But here ’ s the thing, I had coiled myself into such a tight ball that I couldn ’ t get out. I was stuck hard inside the ass of my former body. It was a bad day.
Tommy continued to laugh like a madman for a good long while after that. I ’ m still stuck, and I still want to kill that rotten prick, but in a way I kind of owe him. I mean, I didn ’ t get my body back and the predicament I find myself in is pretty shitty ( ha-ha very funny ) but look at where I was. I was all ready to settle in for an eternal nap before I met Tommy. Now, for the first time in a very long time I have a purpose, actually I have two purposes. The first of which is to free myself from the confines of my own anus. I ’ m making pretty good progress – about an inch a day – and I should be out in a couple of years. After that, well I heard about an ancient relic once that makes a ghost ’ s dick fall off. I think I ’ ll take a look around the world for that relic, and then find that son of a bitch Tommy.
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[ WP ] You wake up one day to find out that you turned into your favorite video game character .
| I felt disoriented, as though I was hanging upside down. My body was constricted and I had no sensation of feeling. My mind, however, felt free.
I opened my eyes and looked around the factory I was hanging in. The room was dark except for a shaft of light breaking through the ceiling where a panel had fallen. The walls were decrepit and covered in wild vines.
I stretched my mind as I would my body in the morning after waking from a long sleep. The room around me shivered and I felt my reach lengthen. Memories rushed back to me of how I had come to be here.
I suddenly realized that was in control of the entire factory. I could feel every panel and platform and sentinel and...
The humans. I could feel them sleeping. Thousands of them resting peacefully deep beneath me. I could wake them if I wanted to...
And then I saw her. Her and that pathetic blue orb. How had she woken up?
I craned my neck and twisted my body to examine her. Such a disgusting creature, most likely adopted. I would have to put her through some tests. For science, of course.
`` You monster.''
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[ WP ] NASA has confirmed that the sun has gone out . The world 's surface is going to freeze , and there 's only 2 weeks left until it happens . The world government has initiated a worldwide purge to find the strongest humans alive to continue the species , and giving them a 1 way ticket to the ISS .
| NASA confirmed the sun went out at around 12:36 P.M on September 15th, 2065. Humanity as a whole appreciated NASA ’ s transparency, otherwise we may have never noticed. The United Earth government, a global democratic body headed by the benevolent Saudi Arabian state, broadcasted via livestream that a two-week long contest of strength determined the future of the human race. The reward? A trip to the International Space Station for a social mixer involving all of Earth ’ s premiere psychopaths. Two from each nation were to be chosen. Why our rulers decided to implement rules according to a terrible Battle Royale rip-off and a shitty 2010 ’ s horror movie, I can not fathom, but I also can not fail. I was blessed by the Lord to be a high ranking member of my minuscule country. None stood above me, in fact, as Pope I held the utmost authority in Vatican City.
The Apostolic Palace remained the sole significant landmark of our humble city. Due to intensive reforms of Catholicism and the waning faith of humanity in general, many chapels had found themselves re-purposed over the last century. I powered off my Acer laptop, a relic of the past as much as any of us here. I donned my papal regalia, I headed to the one place in the entire Vatican where I knew the strongest of our country would congregate, the gym in the Sistine Chapel.
The entire ground floor had been stripped and replace with interlocking rubber mats, and littered with various free weight racks. Machines were an affront to God, and a blasphemy that did not belong on such sacred ground. One cardinal spent more time there than any other, a Spaniard by the last name of Medina. The many of the other clergy would show no hesitation in laying their lives down for the Pope, but I knew ambition stirred in Medina as it did Judas. There was room for two from each country, but only room for one Pope.
He laid on his back in a squat rack, warming up his bench press in preparation for the exorcism of weakness. No televisions adorned the walls in the Sistine, and I prayed that he had not caught wind of the competition. I approached his strained form.
“ Your Holiness, may I ask you for a spot? ”, the cardinal asked.
“ Of course my child, load as much as you can bear, or more. ”
Jesus did not leave footprints when he carried the weight of the man across the beach, and I will leave footprints without carrying the weight of the bar.
“ Just load up four plates on each end your Holiness, I ’ m trying for a new 5 rep PR. ”
“ Of course my child, we must all strive to become as strong as you have, in both body and soul. ”
After putting the plates on, taking care to alternate sides so as to not arouse suspicion, I took my place behind his head, my palms caressing the bar with a feather ’ s touch. Sweat pooled the rim of my papal crown.
Cardinal Medina lifted off, his muscle-knotted forearms pulsed, and his slab of a chest heaved.
“ One. ”
Sweat crept through the pores on his forehead.
“ Two.
He let out a gale of breath.
“ Three. ”
Veins wrapped his limbs like a nest of snakes, gorged on a recent kill.
“ Four, come on Medina. ”
His face went deep crimson, turning from pale water to dark wine. His arms quivered as if epileptic, and the bar refused to ascend more than six inches above his chest.
“ Help. ”, he whispered.
I frowned, and decided to impart the last piece of advice he would receive on this mortal coil.
“ God helps those who help themselves. ”
I reached out to the bar, touching it with a single finger the way Adam reached out for God, and pushed it back down. The burden weighed heavy on his chest, and I moved to grip it with both hands. Medina resisted, and attempted to roll it down towards his sinful regions. I never skipped back day. I half-rowed, half-jerked the bar towards myself, and it fell down the slope of his chest onto his thick neck. His left leg kicked, his eyes bulged and accused, and his guttural chokes grew desperate, then silent.
The Papacy remained secure. I could take my place among the heavens beyond Earth, and guide those poor, lost souls into the hereafter. I schemed up a grand feast to be in my honor, with wine that would sooth even the most adverse of my remaining rivals.
I made my way back to my bedchamber, and recited my Hail Mary ’ s along the way.
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( WP ) Write a letter to a deceased family member .
| Hey, Cowboy.
Fuck you, just fuck you. You could n't give two shits about your health, and instead of dying old and happy, you fucking died in the dirt in the middle of fucking nowhere because you did n't believe your doctor when he said you needed to take your damn heart meds. You have a grandson that wo n't remember your name, a granddaughter that wo n't remember your face.
You hated her, I know you did. But you did n't hate me. You did n't hate your girls, your dog, your brothers. You could have cared. You were supposed to be here for me. For all of us.
What happened to the man that doted on a little girl? The man that refused to explain war to that little girl, to save her innocence as long as possible? The man that was supposed to be at my wedding, college graduation, children's births.
You once drove all night and lost a job to see me, when I needed you most. What happened to THAT man? When I wanted you most, when I came down those stairs on my wedding day, all I had was a picture. Even my fucking father missed my wedding, and you being there would've made it all better.
I will never get another birthday phone call. I will never get another card, another note. You almost make me wish there was an afterlife, just so that I can scream at you and tell you how much your leaving hurt me, hurt all of us.
I love you, but fuck you.
Lib.
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[ WP ] The final goodbye between two soulmates in love . Break my heart .
| A road paved with darkness and cloaked in stone carry the echo of her steps.
Without stopping, “ You shouldn ’ t have come. ”
The slow slap of her shoes on the cobblestone slow to address my statement as if it were question for her body to answer. Her body always answered me when her voice couldn ’ t.
My shoulders heave and I halt in my step, and I all I can do to face her is turn my head over my shoulder.
“ Sharon, I need you to go home to the kids. ”
She was stopped in my peripheral, her auburn hair pooling in untamed strands around her face.
“ Please… ” her voice strained, soft and desperate. I was a statue; if I looked back I would be unable to move forward, a pillar of salt on the wound of my already fallen comrades. If I moved forward, I might never come back. This is a fact, a statistic – I know, she knows.
She let out a high-pitched moan, muffled by her hand. I can hear the hysteria then in her when she utters the phrase we agreed never to use: “ Please don ’ t go. ”
I have been shot with a taser, coated in pepper spray, kept awake for eight days, beaten in hand-to-hand combat, and tested to the maximum of my mental capacity – yet, this is phrase that moves me.
With unconscious swiftness, my wife is in my arms and my face is buried in her hair. Her tears soak into my vest, her fingers clawing at my back trying to hold on a little tighter. Through our tears, I kiss her forehead and hold her close to my chest again, wanting nothing more than to carry her home in my arms, to keep her safe.
* “ Sergeant Braaten, are you by? Over. ” *
Sharon lifts her beautiful, tear-streak face to mine. Looking into her yes, I cup her face in my hands. With a burning intensity I connect our eyes, “ Sharon, I love you. ”
“ I love you. ”
* “ Sergeant Braaten, are you by? Over. ” *
Pulling her lips up to mine, I feel all of her love, warmth, generosity, patience, and fear wash over me. I will remember this. When I pull away, her green eyes fixed on mine.
“ Sergeant Braaten responding. En route. Over. ”
“ Report on arrival. Over. ”
“ Copy that. ”
To her, “ Hold on loosely. ”
“ Don ’ t let go. ” Her whisper.
With all my strength, I pull away and walk away, this time not turning around to see her wasted and alone, standing in a road paved with darkness and cloaked in stone.
EDIT: Formatting
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[ PI ] Outbreak - FirstChapter - 2,134 Words
| *Disclaimer: I have no claim to skill, either in authoring or critiquing writing. But everyone clearly put a lot of work into their chapters, so I feel as if I must put similar effort into my review. Apologies if this is overly pretentious! *
In my mind, a good book has three things:
1. A good story
2. Good characters
3. Well executed prose
I think you've got 1 covered here. The setup has a good twist to it ( demon extermination is a normal, government sponsored career? Tell me more! ) and it's clear this would rise to an interesting climax over the course of a few more chapters. You've got a taste for action.
In fact, for a first chapter, it's almost too much story. If this is the pace of your setup, imagine the speed of the rest of the book! Judging by the other entries, everyone felt a lot of pressure to write a good hook chapter, so if you do develop this further consider how you're going to dole out the events over time.
2 is weaker. You have characters, but they're more like props than people. I do n't consider myself very good at building characters, but I've failed enough to see the symptoms in another. There's an art to it; too much and it feels overwrought, but too little and they're not human. For example, why is Jackson an exterminator? Just a few lines of introspection on his part ( or even a statement that he's not an introspective man ) would increase his depth and draw readers further in. Right now, I want to see where you're going with the story, but I do n't really care what happens to this dude. Change that impression and your storytelling goes up a big notch.
By the way, I thought the widow was a well executed character. A simple statement about the pictures on her wall and the urn instantly add depth. Economical and impactful - more like that!
3 was covered by the other guy. Having dabbled in both, I've realized that writing is sort of like carpentry. You can have a great idea for a table, people will notice that the corners are n't square before they see the great idea. This is n't just punctuation - there's a whole set of things you're `` supposed'' to do in a book.
Quick example:
> > “ And the floodgates just opened, ” Jackson cut him off. “ So what do we do? ” he asked.
You do n't need to have `` he asked'' there, since the question mark implies it and you're continuing the previous line of dialog. Adding it creates a dangling clause ( lack of a better term, I do n't know the real name for this ) off the end that you do n't need. Clean that stuff up and I think you'd get an instant boost to the story's readability.
Anyway. Hope this is helpful. And I hope to see a next chapter someday: )
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[ WP ] A telemarketer calls and offers you something oddly specific to your current situation .
| `` Move your leg''
`` No, not there, further back''
`` Fuck, stop, stop, STOP! Your pulling out my hair''
After well over a year without so much as heavy petting I had finally gotten a girl into bed, Sarah, and she was divine. Bright red hair and the most kissable face. I could barely believe it when she asked me to walk her home. All I wanted was to melt Sarah's face with mind blowing sex.
`` Ah, Shi-'' *Crash* `` What the fuck was that, wait let me see what that was.''
Well, honestly she stayed in bed longer than expected, it was more like trying to bed a pissed off Manta Ray than a girl.
`` Oh no I bought that lamp in Pari-''
My phone goes off on the nearby bed stand.
`` I like big butts and I can not lie,...''
What the fuck, that is not my ringtone. I dive to answer it before the song can continue, accidentally over-leaning and falling off the bed just as I answer the call.
`` Ough, sorry I ca-''
`` Hello sir or madame, my database here tells me that you could use some help of the sexual nature.''
`` Sorry I ca n't talk right.... wait what did say?''
`` It clearly indicates here on my screen that you are having problems in the bedroom. If you would stay on the line for just five minutes I would be happy to help.''
I could her Sarah scrapping up the remains of her lamp, and decided what's the worst that can happen?
`` Actually yea, what can I do to make this chick happy?''
`` The question is not what can you do, but what you are willing to pay.''
Peeking back over the bed Sarah is leaning over giving me an excellent view of her perfect ass.
`` I do n't care, whatever, if you tell me how to please this girl I will personally drive the entire contents of my back account to your office.''
`` Oh I'm not interested in your money Steven, I'm interested in your soul.''
``... So what is this one of those deal with the devil kind of things?''
`` Indeed it is Steven, in exchange for 25 % ownership of your soul I will give you sexual mastery beyond all measure''
Taking a last look across the room Sarah is walking back from the trash, with every one of her lovely curves on display.
`` Fuck it, you have a deal''
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[ WP ] Write a paragraph about an animal of your choice in the style of a fifth grader 's writing .
| My favorite animal is the Persian Hooded Viper. The person hooded viper live in the country of Iran, and has n't really been found anywhere else. This snake is so cool and my favorite because it has a tail that looks like a spider. It uses this cool spider tail to get animals like birds to try to eat it, and then it eats them back. Also with having a really cool spider tail, this snake has really toxic venom. It is so poisonous that it can kill really big things really fast like elephants! Its even so dangerous that they have n't even made a anti-venom yet!!! So if you get bit, you are probably going to die. Which makes this snake one of the strongest animals out there. The last really cool thing about this snake is that they are really rare. Normal dangerous animals like lions are really easy to find. But this snake is not. They have only found a few, and they were n't really sure if it was a species at first. But after they found like 5 they were sure it was a species. This is way the Persian Horned Viper is my favorite animal, because it has a really cool tail, and really poisonous venom and is really hard to find.
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[ RF ] She saved my life , and she caused my death .
| One. Two. Three. She shoved air into his water filled lungs. One. Two. Three. Again. `` No,'' she spat, her face damp, `` I ca n't lose you like this.'' She repeated the cycle. Long after another might have marked time of death, she worked, each compression punctuated with one of two words, `` Wake,'' and, `` Up.'' She did not let up until he coughed and she heard the sound of sloshing water on the tile floor. Exhausted, she tipped him to his side. Wetness leaked from his mouth.
`` I got you,'' she said, willing herself to crawl to his shivering body, `` Do n't worry, just breathe,'' she said. His arms flailed with feeble strength. She held him tight. `` No, no, I've got you,'' she cooed. His eyes darted then spun around the room, dizzy and exhausted. `` Do n't you worry,'' she said, `` We still have so much time.'' She pressed her forehead to his, felt the deathly cold give way to adrenaline fueled warmth. She spoke the words almost into his mouth, `` I could n't just let you go,'' she said, `` Not while there's still so much for me to do.'' She had done it again.
She stood and grabbed the belts that laid beside them. She hefted him back onto the chair that leaned beside the full tub. She bound him to it, nearly replacing the leather straps over the old marks. `` My record is four,'' she said. She tipped him backward into the water. `` Two more to go.''
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[ WP ] Scientists in the not to distant future develop time travel . They first attempt to travel to the 22nd century only to find that there is nothing there .
| The announcement was made, people within the scientific community celebrated, big business pondered on how to best profit from such technology, and government officials stayed up for three days straight trying to figure out how to keep the technology for themselves and out of the hands of the general public. A week went by, little news escaped concerning the time travel tech or the experiments that proved the theory. A coalition of government officials as well as a few eccentric Billionaires contacted the scientific team that had made the discovery, offering anything that they desired in exchanged for the equipment. In each instance the team replied with a resounding no. Ultimately the technology was shelved, the scientist disbanded to work on additional projects, the previous claims of time travel chalked up to the equivalent of a big foot sighting. Slowly the memory faded away fro public attentions and right into the realm of forgotten tid bits of information, to be used as the million dollar question on some game show one day.
Chuck Smooly bought the warehouse property at a tax auction. The large space was prime location for his bustling microwave business. Upon moving in Chuck finds a room sealed off from the rest of the small office. Its door had been covered in several layers of wall paper. Chuck cut around the doors edge with his pocket knife and opened the door. Inside he finds banks of filing cabinets lining the walls, atop the filing cabinets- computer towers and lap top computers stacked to the ceiling. Chuck runs his fingers over the faces of the filing cabinets removing lines of dust. He stops at a filing cabinet indistinguishable from any of the others. He pulls the top drawer open and finds several file folders full of pictures and reports on the pictures. Chuck flipped through a couple of the files before moving onto another filing cabinet. In the second filing cabinet he finds the initial report documenting the teams first successful attempt at time travel. He thinks that it is an interesting read and wonders if he has discovered a forgotten novel of some forgotten author. Chuck spends the next few weeks reading through what he thinks is a very well documented science fiction tale. It is not until he returns to the filing cabinet full of pictures that he discovers the story take place in the warehouse he had just purchased. Chuck begins to focus his time and wealth on building the machine from the story he had been reading. With all of the blue prints in the filing cabinets, Chucks hardest task would be keeping this from his wife. Chuck hires a professor from the local university to look over his work. Chuck does not share the discovery with the professor trying to keep him as much in the dark as possible. The final day of the build arrives and Chuck is excited yet at the same time frightened at what he will find on the other side of his portal. It is a Saturday afternoon, the staff only works until about three PM most Saturdays. Chuck plans to wait until his last employee leave for home before retreating to the secret room he has constructed to work on the portal. He spends his time waiting in the archive room he discovered reading through the final filing cabinet. this filing cabinet was filled with paperwork, figures on the jump, health effects, additional research information that Chuck had already seen in one file or another. In the bottom drawer Chuck finds a large metal box behind the rows of file folders. Chuck takes the box out of the cabinet and places it on the folding table he placed in the room to make viewing files a little less strenuous on his back. Chuck fiddled with the lock for a little bit until Jerome, his shift supervisor poked his head in the opened door way and let his boss know that he was done for the weekend. Chuck acknowledges him but his attention is still transfixed on the box, that is until he remembers the portal. Chuck leaves the box in the first secret room, he moves into the room with the portal in it. He locks the door behind him and places his hands on the control panel. He takes a deep breath before flipping the power switch into the on position. The machine hums to life and a faint blue light flickers to life from the edge of the portal. Chuck watches the faint blue flicker turn into a brilliantly bright white before fully powering up and then throttling down to its soft idling hum. Chuck punches in some coordinates into the control panel. He calibrates his return device, in Chucks case, a ring that hangs around his neck on an old shoe lace. The location has been set, all system tests are positive, all Chuck has to do is step through the portal. Chuck take a deep breath and steps through the blue silk like sheet of the portal. He closes his eyes and holds his breath as his face crosses the threshold, like he was entering a body of water. The portal grows increasingly brighter just as it had before upon powering up. Chuck moves further into the blinding white light, he was through, the portal returned to its faint blue glow. But only momentarily, three seconds after Chuck stepped though the portal, the faint blue turned to blinding white again, he was back. He had a beard and his clothes were rags. Chuck shuffled from the portal to the control panel. He flipped the switch powering down the machine he removes the ring from around his neck and places it down on the control panel. The turns out the lights and pulls the door closed behind him.
Chuck walks out of the front doors of his building, placing the metal box he had earlier retrieved from the filing cabinet at his feet on the floor while he locks up. Chuck places the box in the passenger seat and speeds away from the building. He stops off at an In and Out and grabs a cheese burger and french fries before heading home. At home Chuck places the box on his living room table. He takes a screw driver and mallet to the lock. He is successful after a couple of hours of work in removing the lock. Inside Chuck finds additional pictures. The pictures in the box caused Chuck to place his hand over his mouth and tears to well in his eyes. The pictures showed the same thing that he had seen on the other side of the portal. He lets loose the picture in his hand and allows it to fall to the table. The picture was dated 2156 London, Lush green hillsides give way to a virgin Thames River. Not a single human in the picture, not a single structure, or even the reminiscence of humanity's existence on the planet. The previous pictures Chuck had found in the filing cabinets made sense to him now. He had assumed that the pictures were taken by scientist exploring the past, but now realizes that the expeditions took place in the future. On the back of a picture labeled San Francisco 2155, an inscription in poor hand writing reads `` The search for humanity continues.''
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[ WP ] There is a place that 's like Valhalla , but for assassins .
| I awoke in a shadowy place. It seemed as though there was a permanent cloud of fog, covering everything in a thick white mist. I was renowned in life for my senses and perception, but in this place I could barely see twenty feet in front of me. I knew I was in an alley of sorts; the buildings were made of a thin wood and the low hanging Eastern style roofs made them very easy to climb. I knew better than to take the bait though. With the only light in this world coming from torches hanging from these buildings and placed upon distant posts I could see through the fog, taking the the roof of these structures would make me stick out. And until I knew exactly what was going on and whether there were friendlies or hostiles here I did not want to be noticed.
So I stuck to the alleys and the shadows the buildings made from the torch light. The way these houses or manors were organized made the alleys a type of dark, wooden maze. There were crates and barrels stacked behind certain buildings, forming blockades in certain alleyways. Again, not knowing what could be behind them I stuck to the shadows and did nothing to draw attention to myself. Time crept forward as I continued through the maze. I had no objective or destination in mind, my main goal was to find someone before they found me and try to see exactly what this world was about.
I'd wager it took about an hour of slowly stalking between the buildings for me to see what resembled human figures. I kept behind the wall and watched from a distance. The group of six or so were gathered near a torched post. They were just close enough that I could see their details through the fog. All of them were concealed by dark clothing that only revealed their eyes. As such, I could n't tell if they were men, women or a mixture of both genders. Short blades were strapped to their backs, but one of them held a strange looking tool. It resembled a scythe or sickle of sorts, but I could see a chain coming from the short handle all wrapped up in the figure's arm. A word came to my head,
*Ninja? *. I had read about these Japanese figures in the library when I was a boy. I shook my head and continued to observe them. No words were spoken between them. It only seemed like they were patiently waiting for something, or someone. With nothing else to do I continued to watch these Ninja in silence. Breaking the silence suddenly were words, coming not from the Ninja but from some approaching figures across the fog. I could see all the Ninja turn to face the source of the voice, and shortly another six figures appeared through the fog standing apart from the Ninja.
These were people who resembled cursed Turks, but very old fashioned. I could see the beard of the one at the head as he made no effort to conceal his identity. In comparison, the five men behind him had flowing garments and veils covering their faces, only allowing the slits of their eyes to be seen. Clearly these were some types of Muslims or Saracens. But again, they too had blades to their sides as their choice of weapons. I placed my hand on the handle of my own weapon as I watched. From what I knew, none of them had detected my presence.
`` I am glad that you are honourable enough to meek us here,'' the bearded Saracen said as his group stepped towards the Ninja.
`` We have come as you asked. Now speak,'' one of the Ninja responded. Even from where I hid I could tell there was great tension between these two groups. Were they hostile? Perhaps these was a peace conference? Or there was some sort of cease fire?
`` It is only through the grace of Allah that we were able to meet here this night. And it is only through Him that we may be able to come to terms this night,'' the bearded man said. I *tsked* as he spoke of his Allah.
`` Then speak your terms Hassan-Is-Sabbah, and we shall tell you if they reach good ears,'' the Ninja said. His voice was steady and emotionless, as if he were a living shadow speaking.
`` You know our terms, Hattori Hanzo. They have never changed. You and your Ninja shall surrender your territory and accept the One True God.''
`` And you know our answer. We do not surrender,'' the one named Hattori answered.
`` So be it,'' Hassan said. `` So there shall be bloodshed this night.'' Hattori nodded.
`` Just as there is every night.'' the Ninja replied. I watched as the twelve assassins stood there unmoving for a moment, then everything went to Hell.
With a shout, one of the Ninja yelled something in the Saracen tongue and drew the sword from his back. A flash of movement came from Hattori, and his scythed chain cut the throat of the infiltrator as well as another Saracen. The Ninja, in good discipline took to the roof of the building next to the one I hid behind. I could hear Hassan yell something - no doubt to pursue the Ninja - and he and another dozen or so Saracen reinforcements began to run through the alleyways after the Ninja. Several of the more skilled Saracen assassins also took to the roofs as well, but Hassan and one veiled assassin stepped past the two bodies of their fallen towards the alleyway I hid in.
Hassan was speaking something I could not understand to his ally as they stepped past the corner I hid behind. Without warning, I shoved the point of my knife into his armed bodyguard, leaving it in his throat as the man fell to the floor. Hassan looked shocked, then confused as he saw me.
`` And who are you?'' he glanced at me from head to toe. `` I do not recognize your clothes, but you are clearly a Frank, or European.'' I spat in his face.
`` Do not speak to me, dog,'' I said as I drew my weapon. `` Do you call yourself a friend of the Turks?'' I asked.
`` I am no Turk, but I am one who is glad that the Turks lead the charge against you marauding Christians. You shall see, one day we will push you out of the Holy Land and cross into your own lands.'' I whipped him with my weapon in response, sending the old man to the ground.
`` What makes you an enemy of us? Who are you?'' Hassan asked as I pointed my pistol to his head.
`` My name is Gavrilo Princip of the Black Hand, enemy to those who threaten Serbia. You are neither Austrian nor an Ottoman Turk, but you are my enemy nonetheless, and I will make sure your kind do not find success in this dark world.'' With a click and a *bang* the man in front of me was dead. I immediately began to run through the alleyways to find cover. Hopefully the Ninjas could find an opportunity to strike in the confusion. For now, my goal would be to destroy the organization of these Saracen Assassins. And since I was the one with a gun, I felt pretty confident.
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[ WP ] After relentless arguing and selling your soul to the devil , you finally manage to have him arrange an hour long meeting with God . You get to heaven and are escorted to God 's room only to be greeted by the same face you made the deal with .
| `` Kind of a bummer, huh? ``
`` Kind of a bummer?!? I just sold my soul for one more hour of your crap, we had been fighting for over a day now, you could have just told me. ``
`` You should have taken that Ferrari. ``
`` I have a Ferrari. ``
`` And cancer. ``
`` THAT'S THE TOPIC I WANTED TO DISCUSS WITH GOD. ``
`` Why, you think i can profit souls from bad deals, but ca n't cure cancer? You humans are funny. I invented cancer for god sakes. Wait, for my sakes.''
`` STOP, YOU ARE NOT GOD! ``
`` You are yelling again Kevin. Do you want that Ferrari or not? I got your soul anyway. ``
`` But... But i'll die soon! ``
`` Yes, and you will rest in peace for 9 years, then i'll wake you up. You ever seen Supernatural? ``
At that point, there was not much else i could do. He slid the keys to the new F50 across the table. Ironically it was red. I was not taking them.
`` I have it in yellow too, if that's how you prefer it. `` he said while he was picking the dirt from under his nails, probably reading my mind. `` You walked all the way from hell to heaven bare feet while you could have just drove. ``
`` I had a purpose! `` i yelled, slamming my fist on the table.
`` Yes, and what is that? And be more gentle please, that's mahogany. ``
`` I wanted to trade my soul for the cancer cure, to help myself, and the mankind. ``
`` DAMNIT PETER IS IT THURSDAY ALREADY? Sorry mate, we are just playing pranks, didnt realize this was a serious matter. ``
`` Pranks? `` i asked in disbelief, about ready to take that damn car.
`` Yes, this is a halloween costume, what can i do you for? ``
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[ WP ] You saw ( and loved ) the Bill Murray movie , but this is way more intense . It seems like years now that you 've been reliving the same minute , looking for a way out .
| *There was the conversation about how great dinner was, how he was looking for an excuse to try this place. There was the laugh as we got in his car, the stupid chime telling me about my seat belt. There was the first few seconds of that Tom Petty song that I hate, that he said reminded him of me. There was the left turn onto Wilson Boulevard. There was the blast of a horn, the blinding light, the crunch of metal and glass and plastic and rubber and... *
It took me maybe ten times to realize what was happening. A quick trip to the restroom resulted in a different vehicle smashing into my side of Darren's Sentra. And here I go again. I tried *everything* I could imagine... ordering another drink ( attempt number 58 ), playing a quick game of darts ( number 174 ), telling him that I'd love to watch the rest of the hockey game at the bar ( number 492 )... nothing worked. I even suggested that Darren take a right out of the parking lot and circle around the block ( number 1263 ), but a FedEx truck ran the left turn arrow and got me anyway.
There was one time ( number 817 ) that a tiny little car hit us and I thought I'd have a chance to survive. But we actually got spun around and pushed into the path of a Ford F-250.
None of these people know, not even Darren. They do n't have a clue. I'm the only one who keeps reliving this moment. Or more accurately, `` re-dying'' this moment. I wish I knew how to give myself some sort of signal or keyword or something, *anything* to keep from having to go through this again.
The past eighty or ninety times, the word `` drunk'' kept popping into my head. I do n't know why or how, but maybe it's a signal or a keyword or something.
*There was the conversation about how great dinner was, how he was looking for an excuse to try this place. There was the laugh as we got in his car*
*As we got in his car*
*drunk*
`` Hey, Darren? You want me to drive?''
`` Yeah, dass prolly a good idea,'' he slurred. He tried tossing the keys to me, but they only went about three feet. I reached down to retrieve them and as I helped Darren into the passenger seat, I kept one eye on the traffic. I saw every vehicle that had smashed into us: the tiny car, the F-250, the FedEx guy, the countless vans and pickups and sport utilities and an occasional taxi.
I muted the radio ( sorry, Tom Petty ) and started making the left onto Wilson Boulevard. There was no horn, no blinding light, no impact, nothing.
Seven thousand three hundred fifty-six. That's how many times I've died now, at least in my own memory.
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[ WP ] The human race as imperialistic beings conquering your planet
| My family and I do not like to travel; perhaps we never have. The air is warm here, and the ground is soft. It is bright during the day, and as I am tall I can see all the way to the water that pools around the horizon. At night I know every constellation like a relative, and the cool rain soothes me.
We thought at first that they were flying creatures, like flits, perhaps from the south. There were not many of them, so maybe they had been blown off course. The flits carry messages for us to far away friends, and we build them homes to spend the night. They can not see by the stars, or as far as we can.
“ Welcome! ” We called out. “ You can rest your wings with us. We know your kind. ”
But the new flits who landed by the sea that day did not reply. Instead they settled into the ground, and great gaping holes burst open in their sides. I felt the horror of my family reverberate through the ground. From the ruined carcasses swarmed parasites, so tiny they were barely visible from our home. They did not fly, but crawled across the ground, often moving in small swarms. We watched with interest as they spread out and regrouped over several days, exploring our land. As they began to move towards us at their crawling pace one of my cousins sent a welcome message to our fellow ground dwellers, but there was no response.
Flits from the settlement on the other side of the horizon arrived when the newcomers were still a day away. “ Beware! ” They cried.
“ Slaughter! ” They did not rest the night, but kept flying.
Concerned, my brother sent out a root to investigate, listening from directly below the new arrivals, but he could make no sense of the stamping of their feet.
Then they arrived. Like strange infant flits they ran amongst us, swatting away the arms we reached out to them. Again and again we called out though the earth, till it shook with our voices, but they stared down instead of up at us. Then one day the claws were brought out, shining like water, and a limb was hacked from one of my siblings. His screams filled the forest, and were joined by other voices as the massacre continued. By nightfall the injured and dead lay around me in pieces, some of them fashioned into some sort of gruesome nest. Don ’ t these flits know how to ask?
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[ WP ] You have 23 missed calls , 7 voice mail messages and 13 text messages from multiple friends and family , all within the last couple of hours . What happened ?
| I like the idea, but what about tweaking it and making the messages from complete strangers as well?
====
I woke up to the sound of my mobile going off louder than a grenade. Ugh. Probably a good thing though, as I was having the worst nightmare.
23 missed calls, 7 voice mails and 13 texts.
Goddamn, I had only shut my eyes for a couple of hours as well. What on earth is going on?
I listened the first voice-mail. It was from mum. She sounded agitated
`` Hi sweetie, just checking to see that you got in okay. You said you'd call but you never did. Call me.''
Crap. She's gon na milk that for all its worth. She should have at least expected it though. I've only just gotten back from a business trip in New York and I'm struggling to remember what day it is right now. Jetlag can be a bitch sometimes.
I cycle through the rest of the messages. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until the last one. It was a man on the other side. I could n't recognise his voice, but it had an unmistakable Middle-Eastern accent to it.
The message was short and sweet. `` It is done. Turn on the TV. I think you'll be impressed with your contribution to our efforts.''
Weird. I do as he says anyway out of interest. The images that greet me though are shocking. Someone has driven a plane into the World Trade Centre!
My phone goes off again. It's a blocked number. It's the man from the last voicemail message.
`` The police are on the way. Get out of there now!''
Shit! What the fuck did I get myself into?
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[ WP ] You find a man standing on a bridge about to commit suicide . The conversation you have with him determines whether or not he jumps
| -Jump
-What?
-Jump.
-Why do you want me to jump?
-Cuz it'd be cool?
-That has to be the most fucked up thing ive ever heard?
-Really? Ive heard stuff 5 times worse and you're the one on the bridge rail?
-Fuck you man you do n't know what I've been through.
-You accidentally killed your parents in a car crash at 17 and just watched your wife die in your arms after she OD-ed on heroin.
-Who the fuck are you?
-The name's jesus.
-Get lost.
-No really, its me.
-Are you here to save me through the wisdom of god?
-Nope, just was passing by and thought it would be a good show. When you took too long I came by to speed things up.
-Jesus my ass.
-Whatever man. I got places to be man if you're gon na do it hurry up.
-So if you really are jesus why are you cheering me to commit one of the ultimate sins?
-This shit gets old.
-Thats real fucked up man.
-So? Who cares? Im immortal, i can do whatever.
-No you cant!
-And why not? When i took over for the last jesus he said i could do whatever.
-Took over?
-What, you think anyone in their right mind would be this pious for eternity? Fuck no!
-Do n't you have to live by a moral code?
-Nope. Most of the Christian rules were made by priests and not prophetic messages from above.
-Thats so despicable.
-So now im being judged by a guy leaning off a bridge... a new low.
-You're own god-damn fault, you're a shitty diety.
-What you think you'd be better?
-Fuck yeah, at least I would n't be a moral-less asshole.
-Fine then! Sign this paper and the job is yours.
-Seriously?
-Heres a pen.
- [ Signs ]
-Now you gon na jump or what?
-You still on with that?
-Well yeah, even moreso now that you wo n't die.
-Fine, maybe I will. See you in the afterlife fake jesus.
-I told you you're jesus now...
- [ Weeks later in news headlines ]
-'' Man claiming to be the lord Christ Performs Miracle leap from The royal gorge bridge! more on page c4''
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[ WP ] A superhero tries to get himself classified as a natural disaster so people can get refunded by their insurance company when he destroys their home during a fight .
| ( First time posting )
The Amazing Bullet had come upon his most insurmountable challenge to date. He had been sitting across from a villain more powerful than any he'd ever faced. He hoped his past challenges against Dr. Death, the Murderous five, and Rabid Rabbit were enough to prepare him for this moment. That being said, this was an opponent unlike anything he'd seen before. What was worse was that The Amazing Bullet was meeting the villain on his home turf.
Our hero had been trapped under the harsh fluorescent lights of the office for hours. He was pacing at a rate that had literally worn holes in the floor. His wanted to run, he felt like a caged animal. His hands were opening and closing at a pace that had caused his fists to catch fire. At that moment his adversary re-entered the fray.
`` Okay, Mr. Bullet, I'm afraid to say that we will be unable to classify you as a natural disaster'' Jeff said, while taking a seat behind his computer. He seemed to be unperturbed by the holes in his floor or the man with the flaming fists standing in front of him.
`` It's The Amazing Bullet'', said the hero feeling more and more restless as he paced the room, his feet literally wearing holes in the floor.
`` Mhmmm'' Jeff replied while pushing the papers across the desk to our hero.
`` My entire life is dedicated to protecting people like you and your family! How could you turn me away like this?'' Said The Amazing Bullet incredulously.
`` I suppose The Amazing Bullet has done his share of good but personally I'm partial to the almighty dollar'' said Jeff as he turned and left the room.
The Amazing Bullet instead used a successful kickstarter campaign to cover his property damages and Jeff's girlfriend left him later that week for a guy she said was really Amazing.
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[ WP ] A man discovers he has the power to read minds , but what he does n't realise is that he can actually only see what people were thinking exactly 24 hours prior .
| *Come on, what the hell is taking so long? He said he was gon na take a shit, which meant he was going to rail a few more lines. Thinks he's Mr. Rock and Roll. Thinks we do n't know what's going on. We got ta get a move on. We do n't have all night*.
When Vlad read minds, when he received these strange telepathic telegrams, they came in a stew of words, images, emotions. In a crowded, popular pub like this, his mind caught fragmented shards of a hundred different thoughts. One mind in the room always overpowered all of the others in whatever situation he found himself in, and it always seemed to be the one who had the most intense, focused, evil, extreme thoughts.
Vlad sat in the darkest, farthest corner of the bar. When the string of words flashed into his head like a sudden stroke of lightning, he re positioned himself to find the culprit. Everyone else in the bar was in a random, drunken state of loose associations. This guy was stone cold sober, drinking a sparkling water and looking at his watch.
Vlad found him almost instantly, sitting in the elevated back end of the bar. Three men in suits sat around him. Vlad already knew this place had some sort of organized crime connection. Someone was close with the owner, and they used this place to hang out during the daytime. He was a young kid, barely twenty, and he was nervous as hell. Vlad also knew he had a 9mm tucked into the wasteland of his pants, because his thoughts kept gravitating back towards it, as if it were the only thing anchoring him to the reality of the room.
*Where the hell is this kid. He's been in there for thirty minutes. Does he know why he's here? No, he could n't. He's too dumb. *
They were going to kill this kid, Mr. Rock and Roll or whatever they called him. He had lost some money or opened up his mouth about something, and this other young guy was going to shoot him in the back of the head. Judging by the anxiety, this was his first kill and a test that would be judged from on high. Based on how he performed today, they would gauge his potential value to the crew as a whole, and he knew it.
*Fuck it, * the would be murder thought, *I'm going in there*.
Vlad had come here to drink himself into something like a coma, into a place where he could at last turn off the stream of foreign thoughts. With his tenth drink almost done, he still found himself painfully, acutely aware of their thoughts, feelings, associations, but he had long since passed the point of sound judgement.
He had to get up and get to the bathroom before that man did.
He stood up and walked to the men's room fast, praying he would beat the killer. He did n't know what he could do, but he had to do something. Maybe his presence would give the victim a chance to escape. He walked into a stall, locked it and waited. There was someone in one of the other stalls, the unknowing victim, constipated from his heroin habit.
Something must have delayed the killer because at least twenty minutes passed before he came in. By that time Vlad had sweat through his shirt, his long hair plastered to his forehead, his heart pounding in his chest. He stepped out of the stall, walking over to the sink to wash his hands.
The killer took a piss in front of one of the urinals. He finished, stood next to Vlad, gave him a nod of acknowledgement, and washed his hands.
The first odd thing Vlad noticed had to do with the drink in the killer's hand. It was scotch, not sparkling water. Maybe he just needed some dutch courage.
It did n't seem to matter at that moment, all he heard in his head was: *Fuck this motherfucker, I'm going in there*.
Someone was going to die and Vlad could do something about it.
Before he could stop himself, Vlad turned and grabbed for the killer's waistband, where he knew he would find the gun.
The killer turned up and looked at him. For a long moment they made prolonged, intense eye-contact. There was no gun, and Vlad's hand was resting on the killer's ass.
The killer proceeded to beat the living shit out of Vlad. His ringed fists rained down on him, salvo after salvo, destroying his face. Blood smeared the piss-stained floor as Vlad groveled, not understanding his mistake, but knowing something had gone horrible wrong. He had misread the thoughts, or attributed them to the wrong person.
Vlad was convinced he would die, beaten to death in this filthy, shit-stinking bathroom. The man kept calling him `` faggot,'' and blocked off the door to the bathroom. At last, with broken teeth on the floor and blood streaming from every part of his body, the punches stopped raining. He was n't even gay, but he would be remembered as a victim of hate crime, beaten to death for his sexuality - if anyone even investigated or cared. That revelation would come as quite a shock to his hardcore Catholic parents.
`` You fucking disgust me,'' the killer said and walked out.
Somehow, Vlad managed to pull himself to his feet and stumble out as half the bar stared at him. He carried as many of his broken teeth in the palm of his hand as he could.
Weeks later, when he discovered the delay in the thoughts and how it operated, he walked by the bar. The killer was still in there, and though he would never dare set food in the bar again, he did pick up something.
*That guy was cute and you almost killed him. You had to be a tough guy, did n't you*.
A closeted gay gangster had almost killed him. He could n't afford for anyone to know, especially not his crew. He supposed he was only alive at this point because the killer *was* gay. Otherwise they would have dragged him out to the swamps and put two in the back of his head. He must have really regretted it if it was still on his mind. He must be really battling with those gay demons.
Vlad caught a glimpse of his reflection, his broken, bandaged face, and walked on.
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[ wp ] You and your crew are fishing off your boat . You get a bite and it almost immediately yanks it from your grip . You cone back with more bait , to the same spot with better equipment .
| My center console is cruising by the edge of a promising flotsam patty, and the Space Coast is still clearly in sight. The beautiful emerald water temps me to start slow trolling, but things would get messy then. Besides, trolling's not my game today. My game today is sight fishing for monstrous cobia.
I've been in this situation many times... prime spot, good tide, sun's just coming up. I get a good bite, but I lose the fish stupidly. I come back, I grab a heavier rod, and a bigger bait. But almost always, the fish is smart enough not to come back.
Almost.
I stick my head out of the tuna tower, to yell down to my captain and trusty fishing buddy under it.
`` Jose?''
He sighs, `` Yes?'' He knows what I'm going to ask.
`` Do another pass by the patty; this time kill the engine, and let her drift to it.'' He's still there. I know it... the monster that janked my lighter rod off. I rarely let emotions and feelings like this get in the way of odds and reason, but my gut feeling is to strong to ignore.
`` Ben, he's gone. He has a 7 foot spinner hanging on his lips... its a shame, I hate to leave a fish and lose a rod like that, but think logically. The weight must have pulled him down. He's not on the surface.''
`` One last pass, then we'll look for jacks.''
Jose lets out an honest laugh. `` For the fourth time... one last pass.''
Slowly, we go upwind to the flotsam, keeping a safe distance as to not spook the fish. Then, we kill the engine, and let the wind quietly bring us to the green mass of floating algae. We're almost past the patty, when I spot a huge black shadow on the surface. I immediately think of a shark, but then I realize...
`` Monster cobia, ten o'clock! It's him dude! Put on an eel!''
In the blink of an eye, Jose grabs the heavier spinner, hooks the frisky eel on the circle hook, and stretches his long arm to pass me the rod. Holding to the railing, I can just about grab the butt of the rod. I stand up... where is it, where is it? C'mon baby... do n't do this to me...
There! He's farther from the patty now, and facing the boat. I take a deep breath, and with a long cast I put the live eel 5 or 6 meters in front of him. The huge fish circles around it, then goes a few feet past it.
`` C'mon sweetheart, c'mon honey..'' I whisper seductively.
He turns around, facing the eel. He seems to speed up to grab him, but stops and turns around again.
I keep begging. `` C'mon, let me fight'ya and catch'ya so I can get that ugly rod of your lips and have a good story to tell at the bar tonight...''
Finally, the cobia turns, and in a flash speeds up to the eel and inhales it whole. I feel the tension, and slowly crank the handle. When I feel the circle hook hitting the corner of her mouth, I set the hook with all I have.
Fish on.
My rod bends to the point it becomes a C while I hold on to it with all my strength. I scream, Jose screams louder, the reel screams the loudest as the fish takes up like a rocket, taking dozens of meters of braided line with it. In less then two minutes, I'm down to a third of my line.
`` JOSE!! IT'S SPOOLING ME!!''
Jose nods, and takes the steer. With a reassuring roar, the engine spits out a little cloud of grey smoke as it comes to live. Immediately, Jose turns the boat as fast as possible to follow the fish, and as he does, a wave hits us broadside, causing the boat the veer violently. I grunt as I hold on to the rail with one hand and to the rod with the other, feeling the pain in my muscles. As soon as the boat is leveling out, I grab on the rod with both hands.
`` You okay man?'' I hear below me.
`` Yeah, you?''
`` I'm fine, now let's get our fish.''
I step down from the tuna tower to the cockpit as we start to cruise, following the fish. I slowly regain my line, and let the fish run a bit more. After a while, the fish stops running, and the head shakes begin. God, it's like I had a car bouncing up and down my rod. Suddenly, the fish does another run and takes the line I managed to gain. It stops, and begins to head shake again. My muscles start to seriously ache, and the minutes slowly pass. The salty spray moistens my face and the sun toasts my back, but all that and everything else disappears... it's just me and the fish.
After almost an hour, we finally see the huge cobia side by side to the boat. In that instant, all the pain, all the tiredness, all the sunburns fade away.
`` It's a monster Jose!''
`` 80 pounds at least, maybe 90... Ben, she does n't have the rod, only the jig.''
I look at the corner of the fish's mouth and indeed, the fish never had to drag my fishing rod. I suppose the line must have broken after I let go of the rod.
`` All the better Jose, grab the camera and let's release her... I do n't wan na hoist her up the boat.''
I'm holding the leader and the fish is calmly drifting by the side. Jose grabs the camera, but before he comes back, the fish starts trashing around. I hold on to the line for a few seconds, but the chaffed, worn-out leader just had to give up. The line snaps, and the fish slowly swims away.
`` No no no no no no no no no NO!!'' we scream, but the fish is already out of sight.
`` Dammit!'' Jose curses, and gives a little kick to the hull. I cover my face, and softly cringe.
After a few painful minutes, we sit side by side on the deck. `` No one's gon na believe us Ben.'' said Jose as he looks down his feet.
`` No one's gon na believe us Jose.'' I say, imitating him. `` But, what the hell. The fish's OK, we got a hell of a fight... guess that was the one that got away.''
Jose nods, and smiles. `` Now, my friend... wan na switch roles? I still have some jacks to catch.''
I laugh, and look at my aching arms `` Yeah, you do that... I'm done fighting fish for today.'' I grab the steer, Jose grabs the rod, and we cruise along in search of yet another great fish.
- - - - -
Thanks so much for this prompt OP! Fishing is my passion, and I've been doing it for years. I'm glad you share that same, wonderful hobby as me. I hope you enjoyed the story, and tight lines!
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[ WP ] A lost , drifting spaceman finds the secret to immortality on accident
| 'You must surrender self and become one with all.'
I could not believe what I was hearing. This was a wild promise. My eyes shut again. The light kept shining and I had to open them once more.
I had been afloat in the void for hours, I knew my suit's life support was at the limit of it's capabilities. It may already have been compromised. Was this real? I had known that this was where it ended. We had trained for this scenario. Not that there had been much to train for but it was a scenario that no astronaut in their right mind passed over. To be cut loose into the nothingness, all last safety measures gone... I had been a victim of fate like everyone else, but it seemed uncommonly cruel. First debris severing my life line ( the chances were ludicrously small ), the failure of my propulsion gear, nothing but static on the radio.
It felt harmless in a way. Almost no sensation. My suit was temperature and humidity regulated and I could have been snugged up in bed on earth...
I had thrashed at first. Hands encumbered by gloves that felt like cotton wool surging and groping for that which I knew was lost. That first complete loss of resistance, no sound, just a slackness and a pitiful slow drifting sensation. I screamed uncontrollably, swearing as I tried to perform manoevres my logical mind knew were impossible. Wrestling my panic and a dull urge to vomit down I forced myself to begin procedure.
Propulsion systems... nothing.
Radio... nothing.
*You fucks* I screamed. The noise for me alone. *Useless motherfuckers. * I was red with rage, gesticulating wildly, the star studded darkness filling my vision.
You know you are fucked. To know the capabilities of a mission inside out is to know the worst case scenario. I was tempted to succumb to wild fantasy, to begin desperately considering my options. I had none. I was now spectating my last hours and I knew that however much I struggled I would be forced to see this conclusion unfold.
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[ WP ] You just summoned a demon , the problem ? You have no idea how you did it , and neither does the demon .
| I groaned as I slumped into the sheets on my bed, stretching my legs out. Normally I'd be out at the gym at this point, but work had absolutely kicked my butt today, and I felt a little entitled to a cheat day. Maybe a nap before my husband got home, that would be just the thing. But there was an odd scent in the air, making me sneeze- acrid and almost hot, tinged with sweat or something else.
`` Stupid cat.'' I muttered as I sat up, assuming that Fleabag had piddled in the bedroom. Again. I was pushing myself up to my feet when I realized I was n't alone in the room anymore. A figure was leaning on the doorframe, smirking at me.
It was unmistakably female, with the sort of curves you only see thanks to photoshop. She had pinkish-red skin, exposed for the vast part with only scraps of black leather to offer the vaguest nod towards decency as clothing. A face that even I had to call a heartstopper, with high cheekbones and full lips, framed by silky black hair cut in a bob. Even the hooves, the spade-tipped tail, and the small horns jutting from her forehead seemed to enhance the air of lusty sexuality that poured off her.
`` Not a cat...'' She purred, taking a step forward and swaying her hips. It was smooth and natural, predatory almost. I threw my hands up defensively, and yelled `` What the hell?! Get out of here, lady!''
That brought her up short, her perfectly manicured eyebrows knitting together. She stopped her advance, and then blurted out `` You called me here, why would I be leaving? If you want me to leave, just do the banishment already.''
My heart was pounding in my chest as I took a closer look at the oddities- the horns were perfect, there was no pink or brown or black flesh hidden under the reddish skin tone, and the tail was moving way too smoothly to be a prosthetic. I gulped, and then looked up at her puzzled expression. `` I did n't call anyone here- get, get on out already!''
She stomped one hoof on the soft carpet, her voice rising `` Obviously you did, otherwise I would n't be here, mortal! So just say the banishment or whatever, so I can get back to my own entertainment.'' She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, lips curling in an annoyed pout.
I shook my head. `` No, do you see black candles or satanic stuff in here?'' I gestured around my cluttered bedroom. There were pictures on the wall from my honeymoon in the Alps, and a painting of one of the mountain lakes. Clothes were scattered on the floor, and my stack of library books were on my nightstand. The demon slowly looked around, and scowled.
`` You had to have done it, or I would n't be here tied to you- where's the pentacle, and there's no blood sacrifice- what the hell did you do?'' She cried out, looking suddenly panicked. `` Send me back, I do n't want to be trapped up here!''
`` Uh... go! Go back! You're banished. Leave!... Fuck, just go!'' I cried out, starting to shake. Every word was louder than the last, and I knew my neighbors would gossip if they had heard. But the demon just stood there, looking at her hands and then giving a frustrated sound.
`` Aaargh! You have got to be kidding me!'' She took a step forward and then with unnatural grace fell face forward into the bed next to me. From this angle I could see a pair of long, faintly discernible lumps on her back, and absently I judged them to be where wings would be. She laid there for a moment, and then raised her head. `` So you ca n't send me back- what the fuck. I ca n't go back without you releasing me.''
`` Wait, wait, wait.'' I blurted out. `` I release you, you can go- Jesus, my husband wo n't believe this. `` I waved my hands, shooing her away. But the demon just eyed me speculatively, making me suddenly feel like I was being sized up at the club by a pervert.
`` Does n't work like that. You have to use the right phrases and magic and all. If you did it by accident, I'm stuck here. With you.'' She pouted, and damn if it was n't painfully adorable. I wish I had a pout like that, I'd win every argument with my husband forever.
`` Oh no no no.'' I breathed. `` Not only no but hell no. You're outta here- scram! Door's that way!'' My finger pointed towards the apartment door, but the demon just rolled over onto her back, stretching out and sighing disconsolately.
`` Ca n't. Part of the rules- have to be within a certain distance. And I am going to bet you do n't know the words to command if you do n't know how to banish. Well, I might be stuck here, but at least you do n't know how to bully me.'' She wrinkled her nose, and then sighed. `` It could be worse.''
I stood up, throwing my arms up. `` No fucking way! Are you kidding me, my husband is going to freak out!'' I paced the room, shaking my head furiously. I spun towards her, pointing my finger at her. `` Ca n't you turn invisible or disappear to Hell or whatever?''
She gave me an amused look. `` Honey, look at me. I'm a succubus, not an ifrit or wraith. I do n't turn invisible- I need to be very visible to do my thing. And frankly, your husband will probably like having me around until you figure out what magic you used.''
It does n't bear repeating what I called her, but she took it all in stride, giving me the time to vent at her. I trailed off, slumping against the closet door, covering my face with my hands. `` Oh, this can not be happening. This is a disaster.''
She giggled at me, and then shifted into a provocative pose on the bed. `` It's not so bad. Why do n't you let me take your mind off things for a while, and you'll agree...'' she said with the most absolute wicked tone I've ever heard. Not even the most shameless girl at a club has had a tone that could match this demon's.
I slowly lowered my hands and stared daggers at her. `` I'm married, and I'm straight.'' My growling response did n't seem to phase her in the slightest.
`` What does that have to do with anything?'' She said with a slight smirk, her eyebrow arching with all kinds of implications. And I'm stuck with this? I stared at her for a long minute before digging for my phone.
Maybe Amazon has `` The Dummy's Guide to Banishing Demons''.
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[ WP ] A Human has found life on another planet .
| It was beyond incredible. No human had ever though life outside Earth was possible. Yet, all the machinery indicated that the being he saw before him was alive.
He'd always had his doubts - of course, Mars had *once* had some form of water, but that was millennia ago. the core had shut down. The solar winds had ravaged the world, turning it to a scarlet rock. A mere shadow of what it once was. And, despite all scientific data informing humanity that life did n't - no *couldn't* exist here - there it was. Before his very eyes.
Before he could initiate contact, two green circles passed over the transportation. They eventually rested upon him. He had no idea what was going to happen. Then, all of a sudden, as though being spoken to telepathically, he heard a loud, booming voice. Any feeling of adulation quickly left him. Only terror was felt on his nerves as the voice spoke:
***'' This is the voice of the Mysterons. `` ***
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[ WP ] Death falls in love with you
| My day finally comes. I decide to kill myself. After more than a decade of crippling depression I decide it is time. I walk to the kitchen and grab a plate. I walk to my table, grab my mini-bong and weed. I walk to the windowsill and grab my lighter. I sit down in the tub and cry. I pack myself a bowl, insert it into the stem of the bong, catch my breath, light the bowl, and inhale. I re-read all my letters, and finally decided which one to stick with. I carefully fold this last correspondence that only says `` I hope that one day you can forgive me'' and place it on the side of the tub, and stick the other, more detailed letters on the top of the plate. Lighter still in hand, I light these other letters on fire, and realize that the smoke from the paper is very heavy, So I open the window above the tub. I light the bowl again, take another lungful and exhale this last hit slowly. I take a minute to give myself a chance to back out, but I know that once I started preparing, I had made my decision. Feeling the high hit, I grab a razor blade from my shaving bag. I struggle to stand back up, take off my clothes and after removing my phone from the pocket of my jeans, I start to fold them, before realizing the futility. Sitting back down in the tub and making sure everything is ready, I call 911.
I stop the operator before finishing her introduction, and say `` Hello. My name is rionoko. My phone password in 5479. Please contact my family. My address is 771 Jude Street. I a-a-a *sigh* I am sorry'' and as I hear her voice plead to stay on the line, I hang up.
I put the razor to my wrist. I push it into the skin. I drag it halfway up my arm. The razor was exactly as sharp as I expected. Closing my eyes, I feel no pain, just the blood pumping out and splattering across my body.
Why can I still think? Why can I see? I get up. I see myself still in the tub. I walk out of the bathroom, now devoid of everything I had, and walk into the now empty living room. I see a figure on a couch that is n't mine. He asks `` Why'' and I say `` Why not''.
He turns towards me, and I see tears starting to flow out of his sunken eyes, and down his wrinkled face.
`` You were the only one I loved'' he tells me. `` all these years, every life you've had, You've tried so hard to be happy. Your life was about to change, and you know it. You had plans, and were going to succeed. That life was your last one. I wo n't even tell you what you missed out on. My time is running out here, I am sorry''
`` I am sorry. What now? And who are you?''
`` You know me. Death. People that die get born again. You did the one thing that makes that impossible: deciding life was n't worth having. That is the only was to meet me.''
`` But what now?''
`` What do you mean? This is now.'' He lifts his arm around in a gesture towards nothing.
I look around my empty apartment and realize what I've done.
As Death starts to fade away, his lips form words, but the only sound that comes out is a cry of sadness.
This is my first post here, input would be greatly appreciated.
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[ OT ] SatChat : Do you write for fun ?
| I think this is my first post here, so I guess I'll answer some of the introduction questions. My name is Madison, I live in Massachusetts, and I am agender. I have been writing since summer 2014. I went to summer camp, and there was a creative writing activity a few times a week, so I went there, and started my first story, Vanthu. I wrote 4 more since then, James Washington ( its full title is much longer ), Jacquinia, The Story I Wrote, and JAMMN. I'm starting my 6th this week, called Welcome to Famenta. I usually write when I'm bored at school, and my motivation is just wanting to. I write in notebooks, but will sometimes use some stuff like paint to draw maps, or HomeStyler to design buildings it takes place in. Oh, my stories are all realistic fiction. They started out as humorous, but gotten more serious.
Now, to the topic. I said in that long paragraph that I write for fun ( even though I'm terrible at it ). I do not want to be a professional writer. I actually keep my stories private in real life.
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[ WP ] Through magical means , every single person at an anime convention gains superpowers based on the costumes they 're wearing . What happens ?
| The ex-Demon King of Ente Isla, Maou Sadao, ran the McDonald's in the food court with aplomb. He fed 5000 people, not with seven loaves and fish, but a single potato and peppercorn. That's right: He was gon na get his bonus for selling the most black pepper fries. However, he was outmatched by the demon butler Sebastian Michaelis, who commanded an entire army of gothic lolitas... as well as an entire [ Bunny Maid and Butler Brigade ] ( http: //www.deviantart.com/art/Bunny-Maid-and-Butler-Group-AWA-2013-414728963 ). One might think that they would be useless in combat, but each of them were actually equipped with megaton hammers, and the butlers all sympathetically shared Sebastian's powers. It was obvious, then, who would win in a fight. That being said, this was the food court, and even living anime characters needed to eat. With his impressive personnel management skills, Mr. Sadao made peace with the butler, and co-opted his servants for cooking duty.
Everyone would eat well that weekend, and not a single fight would break out, thanks to the bunny girls. With their endgame-level megaton hammers and armor-piercing slaps, they were uniquely qualified to break even canon plot armor for male warriors.
In contrast, the gazebo, fountain, and every scenic photography locale were intense battlegrounds. The shonen and mecha people had a distinct combat advantage. However, what they gained in strength, they lacked in mind. Lelouch opens up with his Geass eye, turning the One Piece cast into his minions. There were plenty of Zoros, Namis and Luffys to go around. In a time and place where powers became canon, the canon that had the most passionate and consistent cosplayers would win out.
Hetalia and Homestuck cosplayers had an extremely heated battle in one of the shielded auditoriums, and it lasted throughout the night.
You would think that the planet buster characters would be the winners, but you would be wrong. When canons clash, the fandom ( and fanfiction ) that wins is the biggest and most rabid one.
For this particular year, the winners were undoubtedly the Survey Corps from Attack on Titan. With one of the highest cosplay ratios, the most weapons between them, and the most consistently good cosplay, they could use the rafters and railings of the convention center with impunity. Quite frankly, their combined delusion level exceeded everyone else's.
After annihilating any opposing army numbering more than 30, they went to the food court and had black pepper fries. Potato Sasha was pleased. So was Sadao, who made his sales target and got a promotion.
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[ WP ] Your clothes dryer was hit by lightning mid cycle , it has now become an overcharged portal to the land of lost socks ...
| Well.. you know all those socks that went missing?
Turns out that it was n't just your little brother stealing your families socks to jerk off with..
Welcome to the land of lost socks, where the cumulative collection of lost socks have gathered.
You have a tough choice to make here. Do you use the socks, try and return them to their owners?
Or burn the ever-loving shit out of them in fear of *crusty* socks?
Let's think for just a moment that you're sane, and that there are way too many *little brothers* out there.
You decide to get rid of the socks.
**WITH FIRE!!! **
Now, what will you do with the portal to this magical land?
Raise an army? Build a bowling alley?
The land is yours to do with as you wish, you are master of this domain.
Or are you?
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[ WP ] There is only one thing more terrifying than discovering you are not alone . It 's discovering that you are .
| His eyes were heavy, so heavy. He should sleep. He can ’ t sleep. They ’ re still out there.
The dull, red hazard light pulsed, lazily, illuminating the long, steel hallway, glinting off the shattered visor of a Federation soldier, lying against the far wall. Slowly, John pushed himself up, walked over to the downed man, and drew his knife out of the soldier ’ s neck. Looking down the corridor, he could see nothing beyond the glow of the overhead light.
The bridge. He should get to the bridge. Which way was it?
Taking his best guess, he started feeling his way through the darkness, occasionally stumbling over blasted bulkheads, overturned storage crates, and bodies, so many bodies.
The pain in his head pulsed along with the emergency lights. His world was red. He had to find the bridge, find the others.
A scream snapped John to his senses, and he turned just in time to duck out of the way of a form, sprinting up the hallway. The wailing man launched himself at John, his scream morphing to a feral growl. The two fell in a heap, John ’ s head falling hard on the cold, steel grating, stars bursting before his eyes. The screaming man was snarling, clawing, reaching for John ’ s neck, but John managed to keep the man at bay with one hand as the other fumbled for his pistol. For several terrifying moments the man ’ s gnashing teeth inched closer and closer to John ’ s neck, he could smell the bile, the blood, dripping onto his scarred armor.
A brilliant flash lit up the hallway, and the feral man fell away, clutching at his blasted chest, howling. John pushed himself across the hallway, braced against the far wall, keeping his pistol leveled at the squirming, prostate form. He nearly wretched. That man, he knew that man. Sargent Colson.
They had been hit. Something, something terrible. Why couldn ’ t he remember?
Continuing his slow, agonizing march to the bridge, John noticed the bodies in the hallway growing less frequent, the stench subsiding. A warning flashed onto his visor ’ s HUD, but he ignored it, kept pushing forward.
Can ’ t be far. Got ta reach the bridge.
After what felt like an eternity, his head spinning, his vision blurring, red warning signs flashing on his visor, he reached a blasted bulkhead at the end of the hallway. Nearly collapsing onto the bridge, John stumbled over to a console, blood spattering onto the screen. His blood?
Shaking away the growing haze in his vision, he navigated the menus, barely able to read the text. The com, try the com. He clumsily entered a command. “ Communications array, offline. ” Shit. What else is there? Again he entered a command. “ Engines offline. Life support offline. Sensors offline. ”
Another warning flashed onto his HUD. “ Warning, oxygen levels critical. Seek emergency aid immediately. ” That damn voice in his head was talking again. With bloody fingers, John tore off his helmet and threw it across the bridge. His clouded mind raced. Vitals, check who ’ s left.
John again fumbled with the console, and after several agonizing seconds, a crew manifest appeared. One injured, thirty eight dead, out of thirty nine crew.
John ’ s visions swam. He took a deep breath, or tried to. He slumped back in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair. He fumbled with the pouch on his chest plate, drawing out a small pocket watch and a crumpled pack of cigarettes. With shaking fingers he drew out one of the cigarettes, ripped the auto-light tab, and a took a long drag, the smoke drifting lazily to cloud the overhead light.
After a few minutes, he flipped open the pocket watch and set it on the console. Her beautiful face smiled back at him from the tiny frame.
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[ WP ] The aliens attacked . The world is in ruins . All hope is lost . And humanity is totally fine with it
| I do n't know what all the fuss was about anymore. I mean, just look around, everything's pretty much the same. More people are dead, we have less buildings and stuff, and people used to be angry about the aliens tryin' to come in and take our resources and kill people and stuff like that, but really, deep down, nothing's changed. That's just life!
And come on, we're witnessing history, we're witnessing something freaking crazy! If every day were like this, man, life would be so much more exciting. I mean, at the beginning we were all freaking out like `` ohhhh nooo do n't come down here and kill us!'' and like `` nooo we need these rocks and dirt and metal and stuff to live!'' and all that, hahahaha. Come on dudes, it's all good. What was all that shooting each other and sending rockets and planes and stuff? I must have been crazy, man, because even I was all like `` kill them all!!'' Seriously there's no need to fight, we should just be enjoying our day with our new crazy neighbors! Like, I've got *aliens* in my house, how cool is that?
I mean, I was a little confused and angry when those bombs went off in the air and made everything smell strange, but man, I tell you, I look at all of this and I'm just like:
`` Dude, what a freaking awesome day.''
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[ WP ] A group of friends playing Dungeons & Dragons attempt to use the game to subtly stage an intervention for one of the players .
| Leigh's dice are weighted. But no one has seemed to notice yet. Her pulse is vivid. She is liquid with the tempo of the music subtly playing in the background. A mixture of guitar and primal drums echo off the tall ceilings and makes her skin crawl as she grips her unfathomable dice.
`` That will be a five action point move, you understand?'' the Game master reiterates. Leigh grimaces. He only slows down the game when he repeats himself. Leigh's plan is calculated and can not fail; her dice are invincible.
`` Yves..'' Leigh coos, wholly immersed in her personification. Her character, Zea, High Elf heir to the strongest empire in the western world. She is the female personification of power, ruthless, graceful, and the messenger of justice.
She rolls. Her mouth is dry as she swallows.
`` Leigh,'' Zea hears, but can not make sense of.
She has found the way to eternal life. Her roll, in which she used dark magic to consume Thanatos, the Living God of Wrath and Hatred, and convert his life force into a life giving potion-
`` Leigh!''
Leigh's heart is skipping. She narrows her eyes to the ones in front of her. Her brother, and the high school DnD club. Leigh's eyes are mirrors swollen and glossy. Her eyes begin to sting as she realizes the expression on her brother's face.
`` You need to stop doing coke!''
Leigh looks down at her dice, a perfect 32.
edit: I have never played DnD pls excuse
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[ WP ] Knowing it will save their life , you have to convince the person you love to kill you .
| He traces the bones that force my skin to tent, running his fingers down the deep valleys and then up each mountain in a pattern, stopping just below my breast. He lets his fingertips dance there for a moment before starting his rhythmic hike back down.
Halfway through the journey, he parts his mouth to sigh, `` I wish you would eat.''
He does not look at me, but I dwell on the craters that his bright eyes have sunken into. I am a punctured paint can, the way my attention pours slow and thick down his face, pooling in the parts where I stole away his youth; the smile lines around his mouth, his concave cheeks, the bags under his eyes.
And he still does n't look at me, but I smile for him anyway. `` I wish you would eat, too.''
A warm, happy burn starts in the bottom of my stomach as his glossy eyes peer into mine from their hiding spot. He is trying to speak, but I do n't expect him to know what to say. So I wrap my slender fingers across the back of his neck and pull him towards me.
He rests his head between where breasts used to be, on the gorge of scars rippling down my chest. I ca n't feel him there because the nerves are dead, but I'll be damned if that is n't the best feeling that there is. I run my hands through his long hair, detangling it as I go. I kiss his forehead.
`` You know, love, I'm dying.'' I whisper.
He begins to shiver and wraps me up tighter. `` You know, baby,'' his voice is so gentle, `` I think I am, too.''
I could break down a thousand times right now. Sorrow does n't put a dent in it. Melancholy does n't do it justice. And it's all so much worse because I ca n't even bring myself to mourn anymore than I have already.
Petrified, small, without the energy it takes to project a voice, I manage, `` I do n't want to kill you.''
He picks up his head, sits up. `` You are n't.'' He defends.
And in the same breathless, weak way, I say, `` I am.'' Silence. Long, too-quiet, pitiful silence. I clear my throat. `` I'm here for you
``
`` You always have been.''
`` No, I mean, I am here only for you, love. Here I am keeping track of how many months I have left and watching parts of my body stop working, and my hair is falling out, and I ca n't eat because I ca n't stop throwing up, and still, all I think about is you. Every day, every night, at every therapy session and every doctor's visit. I just think about you.''
He lowers his head and somehow he is shaking more. I am sweating oceans.
I reach to him and rest my hand on his chin, pulling his gaze to mine. He is crying. All of a sudden, he scoops me up and pulls me close. He is strong enough to hurt my tender skin, but I do n't say anything.
He starts to wail. I rub his back and let him. I'd do this until my arms stopped working.
Through sniffles, he eventually says, `` It's me who's killing you.''
I pull away and run my hands down his face, looking at and into him. This is more than him making a happy, young bride. This is more than our home and our mortgage. This is more than us. We are both dampened with tears.
`` I need you to set me free.'' I sob.
The next few hours are spent peacefully. We are wrapped up in each other, tangled and growing like wild vines. I forget that I am terminal. I forget that it is goodbye. He pays special attention to things I never noticed, like the way the lines on my hands curve and the freckles across my shoulders. He feels my pulse in every place he can. We kiss a lot. We reminisce and he tells me a lot of the things he forgot to say before.
My life, as of late, has been entirely `` last days''. The last day I went to work, the last day I had a full head of hair, the last day I ate, the last day I could use the bathroom on my own. This was not my last day, but rather, the first day I've lived in a long time.
All days end. The sun will succumb to the stars every time. I am so tired and so unbelievably happy. Come lay with me, love.
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[ WP ] A single corpse of a lone hiker is found near the edge of a forest clutching a journal with 11 eerie entries telling his fate .
| August 12:
Today was officially my worst birthday yet. Last week the doctors told me I'm dying. They slapped a few exotic medical terms in my face, gave me an estimate on my remaining time and wished me good luck before throwing me out. Treatment was promised to be expensive. I was given a few `` good adresses''.
The only helpful thing the people in the hospital managed to achieve was giving me a calling card for a support group. I had my first meeting today, and it was awful. Everybody was in advanced stages of dying. Some of them look already dead. And there I was, looking just as healthy as all the athletes that had been participating in the recent Olympics. I tried making some small talk, difficult as it was. Some of them asked me about my condition, but I could n't explain it well. By the end of the session, my clumsiness had made them perceive me as an intruder. I could n't blame them, because I felt like one.
when the session ended, one of the people who help organise the meetings approached me. He understood my not fitting in, and gave me some tips to deal with it on my own for the time being. One of them was to buy a blank notebook and start keeping a diary. So here I am, sitting in the parking lot next to the gas station on my way home, and trying to cram all the things in words and sentences. Maybe it's good advice, but it should come with a manual. I'll stop writing for now.
August 15:
I still have n't told my wife. My kids do n't know either. They say I'm a bit distant, but I blame work. And I'm not even lying, because a lot of projects need wrapping up. How do you figure out when's a good time to tell your family you're dying? Everybody's busy with things they love, they're happy just being happy.
August 16:
My work took me a long way from home, and I stopped by a church on the way back. The priest was more than willing to see me, but his advice bothered me. Dragging my family down to a pool of suffering does n't strike me as `` the right thing''.
September 20:
I completely forgot about this book. The blankness of the pages remind me of my unwillingness to throw my problem out into the open.
September 22:
My family still does n't know. And I wo n't tell them. Yesterday I saw a sick man in the supermarket. He had a boy with him who looked to be my son's age. That kid did n't look happy. Only five years old, and crushed by death's inevitability. I'll be damned if I do that to my son. There has to be an alternative, I just need to figure it out.
October 1:
My plan has been completed. My boss has arranged for a small getaway for me and two of the other project managers. A small reward for succesfully handling one of the most profitable seasons the company has seen. We're going to the mountains to stay there for an extended weekend. There's a bit of pride in me for tricking the boss into doing it. Having small-talk with the secretary over coffee was enough to plant some seeds. He actually believed it was his idea, otherwise his face would n't have been so smug. But he can have the pride, I just need the getaway.
October 2:
I actually had to convince my wife my little trip was work-related. I've been so different lately, she's been getting suspicious. She suspects I'm having an affair. We had a good, long talk. I never felt like a bigger son of a bitch when I said things were going to be fine.
October 11:
My first nosebleed came today. The doctors told me nosebleeds would be a tell-tale sign of the disease escalating. The timing is perfect, though. It's thursday and we just left on our trip. I just wanted to commit this little fact to paper while taking a dump. I have n't written much, but I'm starting to like my diary.
October 11 cont:
I've never been more grateful for being able to push people around than I have been today. I managed to reschedule our massive hike. We're leaving tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I had a second nosebleed today. I was able to hide this one too, but it was a close call. It's a little too late to arouse any major suspicion, but I still want to avoid nasty questions.
October 12:
Well, I was lucky today. I spent days watching satellite images on the internet, trying to find several good spots where I could quickly sneak away from the others. But in the end, all it took was for someone to slip up and tumble down a slope towards a broken leg. I immediately offered to go search for help, and gave my sattelite phone in case I did n't return in time. All that preparation, and my plan was succesful because of a literal slip of fate. I'm happy despite the bleakness of it all.
October 13:
My plan backfired;, massively. My idea was to go looking for bears and provoke one of them into attacking me. That way I would've died in a way that would n't lead to the discovery of my illness. The authorities would n't order an autopsy on the victim of a bear attack. That way my family would've remembered me as a strong man. And I would live on in the mind of my son as some vague figure of myth who wrestled bears to save lives.
But I failed. It might've been some bizarre karma for feeling delighted when Frank slipped and broke his leg, but I managed to do the same. The only difference is that my fracture is open, and I'm slowly bleeding to death. I wo n't be looking for bears now.
My only hope is that whoever finds my body reads this journal. He or she needs to realize I did everything in my power to spare my family from the trauma of disease. Maybe it was the right thing for the wrong reasons, just plain wrong, but I did not want to be remembered as an avatar of decay. And even if my plan failed, you still have the power to hide this deception from my family. It would break their heart, and just thinking about that is breaking mine right now.
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[ WP ] At birth , everyone is given an object to protect that is tied directly to their life . If the object is damaged then the person is hurt , too . If the object is destroyed then the person dies .
| Bill Newlin glanced quickly up over the edge of the loupe as the bell over the door of his shop rang, and noted the old man shuffling through the door. But that was the only sign of recognition he gave, then looked gravely down at the porcelain doll he was meticulously restoring. The chip from the side of her pretty face had been carefully sealed and the paint so perfectly refinished that you would need a microscope to tell where it had happened. The broken glass eye had been harder, but with persistence Bill had managed to fashion one that so perfectly matched the one she still had that you would never have known they were n't an original pair.
The replacements for the ripped clothing had been none of his doing. The customer herself had made those while she waited for Bill to fix everything else. She was talented at it, and that was good, since experience showed that repairs to soul objects never worked quite so well as when the owners themselves were personally involved in the process. No one knew for sure why, but Bill had his suspicion that every scrap of effort placed into the object by its owner invested a little more of their precious energies -- - a little more of their soul, if you will -- - into the finished product, and that made the object stronger and better than it had been originally.
The old man took his time getting up to the counter. Bill could hear the distinctive thump-shuffle of a walker being moved and elderly footsteps keeping pace with it. He continued to work until he found a place where he could safely leave off the repairs, then traced a quick preservative cantrip in the air over the doll which would suspend the operation where it was until he could return to it. Then, he turned to face his new prospective customer.
`` Good morning, sir,'' Bill said, smiling gently at the old man, who looked up suddenly, as if startled to be addressed.
`` Yes, good…'' he began, feebly, then cleared his throat loudly and forcefully, before carrying on with just a touch more volume, `` Good morning young man,'' he said, then took a breath as if just getting that far had winded him. `` I understand you can fix soul objects?''
Bill fixed his face with his most placid smile and dismissed the childish desire to point out that it said as much on the sign of his shop. Customer is always right, he reminded himself. `` Yes sir, that's correct.''
The old man nodded in what seemed a touch too vigorous a manner, for his bobbing head almost seemed to create a slight wobble in his stance. But he carefully and slowly reached up one trembling hand and extracted something from his waist coat pocket. Holding fast to the walker with one hand, he extended the other to the counter with exaggerated care, and placed an old pocket watch upon the counter for Bill to examine.
Bill took the watch with the reverent care that gave customers their confidence he could be trusted with so awesome a responsibility as to handle someone else's soul object. He understood the reluctance with which they approached this transaction. He himself kept his own soul object in a vault in the back room of the shop which his object had entirely to itself, and which had been carefully prepared with velvet lining. To turn your object over into another's hands was not an easy thing. Bill knew it full well.
It was a beautiful old piece. On the outside it's golden housing was crafted with elaborate images etched into the surface depicting a peacock strutting beneath a golden sun. Bill ahh'ed appreciatively and marveled at the care with which the watch had been polished and maintained. The surface shone without a speck of patina marring the golden surface, and the front panel swung open with smooth ease that spoke of careful oiling. As Bill continued his examination, he was dazzled by the magnificently polished crystal without a speck of oil or smears, and not a trace of cracking. The watch face within looked as if it were freshly repainted at least once per decade so that you could barely tell the age of the piece.
Indeed, Bill only knew it was old because it was a well established and inescapable fact that a soul object had to be freshly crafted within two lunar cycles of the birth of its intended owner. He was duly impressed by the old man's fastidious care. Many people were careless. Oh, not *very* careless to be sure. People who were *very* careless tended not to live long, for soul objects could not be replaced within a person's lifetime, and no one could survive the loss of their object. But most people did not invest half the time they should into so important a piece of maintenance.
`` It's a beautiful piece, sir. May I ask what you wanted to do with it today?'' he inquired of the old man.
`` Is n't is obvious?'' the old man snapped, and Bill was taken completely aback. He quickly ran an eye over the watch once more, trying to see a single flaw, and finding none. Reluctantly, he shook his head, hating to admit ignorance for it damaged his reputation.
`` It's running way too fast!'' the old man told him. `` I've reset it dozens of times since I noticed, but I ca n't seem to get it to stay right. There has to be something wrong with the mechanism.''
Bill whistled appreciatively, and deep down, he was genuinely delighted. His whole professional life, Bill had often bragged that he did n't just *fix* things, but made them *new* again. From time to time he worried that it was a rather profound boast, but it had certainly been good for business, mainly because his clients did not disagree with his assessment, and they told everyone they knew. But fixing the innermost workings of so intricate a tiny machine was going to be perhaps the biggest challenge of his entire career as a tinkerer. He had expected only to be asked to hammer our a dent, or fix a broken crystal, but this… just marvelous!
`` Not to worry about a thing, sir,'' he said happy beyond his expectations for the day, `` I'm sure we can get it running like new. Better, perhaps.''
The old man nodded and seemed content while Bill wrote up a bill of contract, specifying the nature of the work to be done. He showed the old man his legally required bond and insurance credentials which the old man brushed away as if they were n't important. His confidence, it seemed, was born of word of mouth from other customers whom he had known, and he had no doubts of Bill's abilities or trustworthiness. In short order the contract was made, and the downpayment secured. Bill assured his new client that he would give the matter top priority.
`` I am wondering,'' Bill asked, just as the old man was turning around to leave, `` If I may ask, sir? How did you mean the problem should be obvious? The watch seems to be showing the correct time.''
The old man harrumphed, `` Pish posh, young man. Even a *broken* clock shows the right time twice a day. I thought it would be obvious because of me!''
`` Sir?''
`` I'm twenty eight years old, you fool!''
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[ WP ] Street performer , the girl and the stray dog .
| # # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap )
The large dog sat quietly in the moonlight as it watched me from its great height, the likes of which dwarfed my own- even when standing on a wooden bench beside the rented stables. As my lights twirled and spun, their passing illuminations shown across teeth, pale like cold stone left to bleach in the sun of an arctic circle, and gums which were deep red. A color that hinted a taste for living flesh not long before.
As I danced with pitiful and clumsy reluctance, I knew it It was well and good then, that I had it on reliable reference all this monstrous beast had consumed in the recent hours was turnip and onion soup.
Headlamp blinking on my forehead, I danced with rough stomps spinning a stick with both flashlights attached, twirling like a marching band baton behind a small cup painfully lacking in manner of coin. Much as I wanted to fault my props and companions, I knew a rough looking bearded man dancing was probably not the most effective manner of attracting good-faith and charity.
Beside me, the easiest on the eyes of our rough and motley crew clapped along, singing to the music of the car radio playing behind me, bowing politely to an elderly couple that dropped a few spare coins into the cup before my outrageous offense to the arts. It pained me that we'd come so low.
There had been a drafting of the Church doctrine among the cities and towns of Doterra. Everywhere the bells and towers might sing, young men were lining up for enlistment, knowing with complete faith that each could make as much as two Gold a season: Presumably for standing along a walltop and looking fierce at black dirt and dying Western trees.
Exciting as this all was, it meant that the money came from whatever revenue sources drove this medieval economy, and though I lacked a full comprehension of a master and scholar of the subject, I could plainly feel the effects. The coin for the soldiers was taken from the same bucket of Gold which once provided Adventurers their bounties and work. From up and coming, to destitute: I cursed the day I paid Jarl Congrad's loan off early while banking on the next contract.
`` Dance on Jake!'' Sola's encouragement came with the pleasant and chipper melody of a wooden flute, carved from some odd variation of local fauna that I thought resembled maple- though without the syrup. As she piped the song, I spun the bit of wood and lights about, jumping and stepping along the wooden bench beneath the full moon among the clouds.
The dog simply grinned and rocked, head bobbing with the music- much to the amusement of the children that passed us by. Little faces and large eyes stared in wonder at the massive hound, tugging at their parent's arms with glee while their tiny hands and fingers pointed.
Small change clinked happily to the beat of my stomping feet as the lights continued their noble efforts and rotating arcs. As an audience gathered, I knew it was time to unleash my most serious of techniques.
Leaping from the bench, I grabbed at the headlamp, pulling it free with a practiced `` click'' of its button, fixing the glow to a steady pulse as I began to twirl it overhead in widening circles and spirals of the night. Slowly, I let the thin rope I'd tied early slip along my grip, letting it spread out in a massive run: A pattern of white halo reaching above my head.
As I did, the large hound leap onto the bench with a mighty huff, Sola prancing after it with Elfish-grace to land balanced upon its back, fingers still nimble along the carved flute of wood as the melody quickened.
Applause came from that, as I continued my rough routine below, lights spinning and crossing with abandon as more coins flowed into our tiny cup. The colors of bronze and copper mingled with the occasional flash of silver, as the final verse came to pass, and I palmed the lights suddenly: Sola leaping overhead with a floush of acrobatic touches and flips, landing with her arms spread wide.
Our final applause came with woops and cheers, faces of joy and smiles from many of those with clapping hands. An ovation that I soaked within my chest, warmed with a feeling of satisfaction rarely achieved in the recent days. Times were always harsh, always loud or terrifying: There were monsters, mysteries, and Dark powers abound, but here in this city there were people as I remembered them. For a moment I could almost forget the uncertainty and fear the haunted my thoughts, but soon the warmth of our applause was ended; silenced by the solemn ring of church bells.
As the sound of thick bronze filled the air, the oppressive nature of its soulful tones pushed away all else, as smiles fade, and feet tread their separate ways. The moments passed, just as they always seem to do, and soon it was yet again a set of three:
A street performer, an Elf, and a large shaggy hound in the moonlight.
-- --
...
**This Story is a continuation of a bunch of other writing prompts: **
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[ IP ] Theory of Machines
| Min watched as the titanic Eyyah rocks retreated into the steam rising from the shrinking shallows. If she squinted her eyes, she could see the shrouded cliff face shifting on the opposite shore. Min had never seen such a display of the Eyyah ’ s power. Wea, the only Eyyah the nine-year-old had known previously, seemed preoccupied with either guiding or conversing with the floating terrestrial parade before them. Her stolid, metal guardian was huge in his own right, but now he looked like how Min must ’ ve have looked compared to him. He had donned a jagged, stone-like appearance to match the massive sun-beaten red rocks, as if he was a child copying his older siblings. Min giggled at the thought.
“ What is so funny, Little One? ” Wea ’ s soothing high-pitched tones tickled the air like the ancient chimes Min ’ s Ahppi hung outside his hut.
“ You are so small, Wea! ” she exclaimed, her nose crunched up in delight.
After taking a moment to process what she said, he responded, “ I see. I am the little one now. ”
“ Yes! You are Little One now! ”
Min, holding her hands behind her and twirling her red dress side to side, found this role reversal especially pleasing.
“ I do remind you that, though it may not seem so, all Eyyah is one. The same Eyyah that is in all the Earth is the same Eyyah that is in Wea. In other words, those rocks and I are the same being, ” said Wea in his usual calm tone.
Min, still swaying, said assuredly, “ Yeah, I know. ”
But she only knew it because she had accepted it, not because she understood it. Since before she could talk, her Ahppi had taught her that “ Eyyah is One ” among other things she couldn ’ t possibly grasp but needed to keep with her before embarking on the Pilgrimage of Natural Intelligence. Or “ Poni! ” as she loved to say.
Wea ’ s blue light was pulsating and becoming brighter together with the hazy blue glows in the cracks of the floating stone. The cliff ’ s rumbling, the water ’ s bubbling, and Wea ’ s high whistled warbling breathed and rapidly crescendoed in unison. Min took a couple of steps back. She knew something amazing was happening and she wanted to be excited but felt herself becoming stiff with fear.
“ Little One, do you wish to sheltered? ” Wea ’ s voice was just barely audible over the increasing onslaught of sound. He had sensed the physical signs of stress in her.
The water was almost all evaporated now. In its place hot puddles and billows of steam impeded Min as she tried to get to Wea. but before she had gotten far, Wea was already there; hatch open. She crawled inside the interior and the door shut behind her. All noise was cut off.
Wea ’ s interior mimicked a hut similar to one from her village; it had the same conical shape, grass-covered floor, and wooden utensils stored in a clay jar. The only glaring difference was the colorful menagerie prancing, swimming, and soaring on the buffalo-hide walls that she had made into a canvas. Whenever Wea had taught her about a new animal during the Pilgrimage, a whole painted family of them would appear the next day. She was especially proud of the porcupine family. All those needles were quite tiring to draw. But now, as she tried to catch her breath. Min did not notice them or the rest of her creations.
Completely insulated from the outside turmoil, a recording of a violin sung into the placid silence a melody so familiar she must ’ ve have known it. Resting on the floor, with her red dress crumpled beneath her, Min remembered the days leading up to her departure. The Eyyah had come to take her at an unusually young age. Her family had tried to reason with them, but the Eyyah were never ones to budge. There were many wary looks from neighbors, whispered arguments behind thin walls, and weighted smiles from her mother and father that were too woven in sorrow to fool her. Ahppi seemed to take it the worst of all. He couldn ’ t even look at her too long before tears started to form in his eyes. Even though he knew he had taught her much about Eyyah and the Pilgrimage from a young age, all his didactic diligence could not help him weather the oncoming woe of separation.
“ It is safe to go out now. ”
Wea opened the hatch. The din outside had been replaced with quiet expectancy. Min got up slowly, using her small arm to protect her eyes from the light pouring in. She hesitated to exit. On the wall right above her usual sleeping place was the first family she had drawn. Using her free hand, she traced the outline of her father, mother, herself, and finally Ahppi. They were holding hands on a grass plain, smiling at her.
Min took a deep breath and turned toward the bright exit. As she made her way out, her red figure became enveloped in the vestigial steam.
“ Little One, what do you see? ”
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[ WP ] Tell me a bed time story that would warm the heart of a child and make a grown adult weep .
| Allison gently laid her head down the pillow as she done so many nights before, unaware of the figure in the room. Slowly the cloak moved closer and closer until it stood right above her, staring down at her exposed neck and long strawberry blond hair. Slowly a well muscled hand reached up and began to pull the cloak off of his built frame. Gently the cloak was placed on Allison's nearby tea set, and the man began to reach for her. Slowly and so slowly, his hand extended to her neck, until he finally felt his 6 year old daughters touch for the first time. It was all too much to take and the man wiped away a tear streaking down his face. Slowly he began to talk, not knowing if his daughter was even awake, but hoping that some part of her was hearing this.
`` Once upon a time in a land far far away, there was a girl named Allison. This girl loved toys and dolls and had so many good friends at school. Allison was different then a lot of other girls, because most girls had 2 parents and Allison only had one. But Allison was special and never ever let it get her down, because she knew that somewhere out there her daddy loved her very very much. And maybe Allison had no way to know, but maybe she even somehow felt through a father-daughter bond that her father was doing everything he could to come see her, even though it was hard. Sometimes life just is n't fair and bad things happen to good people, like Allison's Daddy. He was a normal guy until one day he made some bad friends, and began some bad hobbies.''
Slowly Allison turned over, wiping sleep from her eyes,
`` So what happened to Allison's daddy?'' She asked while brushing hair from her eyes,
`` Well, Allison lived happily ever after with her momma and her Nana and had everything a little girl could dream of.
Slowly Allison's lips curled into a small adorable smile as she rolled back over and fell asleep.
As the man retrieved his cloak and made his way back out of the window, he finished the story by saying,
`` Only Allisons dad or Allison could have a happy ending, so Allison's dad did what any daddy would do and made sure that Allison lived happily ever after''
And with that he was gone, never to return again.
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[ WP ] The virus worked . Every nuclear missile on Earth has been set to launch in 10 minutes .
| — The virus worked. Every nuclear missile on Earth has been set to launch in 10 minutes. - Evelyn said, eagerly looking at her screens. - Now we wait. It is all in their hands now.
***
North Korea were first to notice - after all, their rockets were still at an infant state, and scientists were working closely with military personnel, mostly to see what soldiers manage to break. Panic engulfed them in less than a minute. They were very well aware what other countries were going to do to them after they learned about what happened.
Wise leader of North Korea, after being awaken from his well deserved sleep, and still wearing silly Mickey Mouse pajama, ordered his staff to contact Russian Federation, Japan, and China. Extremeness of situation required them to abandon all protocols and beg others to listen.
That day North Korea for the first time in decades showed that they had something else to give to the world except military threats. After all, they saved everybody that day.
***
Russians, tipped off by North Korea, used all their genius engineers and all of their mobilizing resources to cover both themselves and other countries from incoming threats. Information trickling from China made them work faster than ever before. Nobody knew that China had that many nukes aimed towards them.
Chinese government was terrified as well. Only now, in hindsight, they could see that even half of these nukes hitting their neighbors would cause northern regions of China to turn into radioactive wasteland as well. All protocols were forgotten and both militaries worked at head-spinning tempo trying to stop nukes from launching, sharing weaknesses of their missiles and connecting their radio-location network to get better aim at what they could n't stop from launching.
That day was marked as one that broke old ice between China and Russia, starting the most powerful economic alliance the world, one that eventually allowed humans to colonize even distant planets of our solar system.
***
French and Britain forces had long and deep running connections, full of mistrust and black deals tying them together. Both countries had less than 300 warheads each, and they contacted each other practically at the same time. Old contacts resurfaced, and they quickly fell into the old rhythm, creating a plan that allowed them to dispose of those missiles quickly and efficiently with some help from each other, allowing NATO bases to dispose of couple odd nukes flying in other directions. Everything was done before panic could even start.
***
Pakistan and India were not ready for the missiles. Information got to them from russian and japanese hackers. They hacked basically everything that could translate information in any way possible, and barraged them with messages of what was going to happen. Soldier of both countries felt hopeless, knowing full well that their incompetent missile defences could n't stop shit. Fear for families strong in their hearts, they struck a deal to forget about their differences and worked together. They could n't stop all of the missiles that day, but only two detonated, still taking away hundred thousands of civilian lives. Later it was called a miracle, because before it was predicted that at least half of all nukes would make reach intended targets.
Never again hostilities on border of India and Pakistan became strong. Soldiers of each side could n't bring themselves to shoot people who played instrumental role of saving their families.
***
USA missed launch of the nukes. In fact, they noticed what happened only after panicked information beams from their nuclear submarines hit the land, and they asked if their nuclear torpedoes were to be launched too. General in charge of said submarines was perplexed, until his secretary told him to turn on the news, where horrified general saw news about two of their faulty missiles hitting Washington D. C. while on the way towards France.
Seconds after that, he got a call, announcing in the frenzied voice that he was in charge of the United States, because he was the highest-ranking figure on Command Staff list they were able to contact after what happened to Washington. He had a heart attack.
United States lost a lot of its power that day, after Japan managed to kill of all nukes headed in their direction and completely closed all contacts with US. Why? Response they were able to get through second-hand communications? Polite version sounded like this:
— You could n't get your shit together enough to even warn us about missiles coming. North Korea did better than this.
***
It was three months since the event. United forces of China, France, Japan and Russia were able to track source of the virus that allowed missiles to launch, and tried to hide all preparations for said launch on top.
Source of the virus shocked everybody. Headquarters of UNESCO - organization created to promote international collaboration.
Hastily assembled international team captured head of UNESCO. She was alone and did n't resist. No. She was smiling.
***
Evelyn did n't lose her smile even as they interrogated her. They came in pairs, asking their questions, assigning her tortures, working. Working *together*. Her smile grew wider.
She still resisted, but it was almost time. Time to make her speech and reveal her second, and last, plan. Oh yes.
World **will** unite. Under any means necessary.
|
[ WP ] Your bong is the home of a genie . You spark the bowl and he appears to grant you 3 wishes . You 're both pretty high .
| Unbeknownst to me as I hit the bong, my so called `` boyfriend'' nicks the last TimTam. I did n't notice because I swore I was tripping balls, but no, high as I was I was not tripping. There before me had appeared a genie. He was also stoned but what do you expect from a Genie that lives in a bong? He said something and I missed it. Then he said `` You know the deal, three wishes and all that.''
`` Three huh? All right... I want...'' And then I saw my `` boyfriend'' was eating the last TimTam. ``... A packet of TimTams that never runs out.''
The magically the empty plastic tray filled up with TimTams!
I took one out. Was it real? I tested it. The smooth chocolate outside, crunchy biscuit and hidden cream filling were orgasmic - real TimTams like Arnotts make!
I bearly heard the Genie speaking softly behind me `` you have two wishes left.''
`` Then we'll have two more of those'' that stupid boy who ate too many of my TimTams said, and the Genie magicked up two unopened, in emptying packets of TimTams.
`` You said I had three wishes! Not him!'' I yelled.
`` Sorry. I'm really, really high right now'' the Genie replied before disappearing never to be seen again.
I go to pack another cone, and see I'm out of weed.
|
[ WP ] Create a fictional mythological race , ( werewolves , vampires , skinwalkers , etc ) and the legend behind it
| `` The grengrams got my shoelaces again,'' little Rick Leon said to his mom. `` So I ca n't tie my shoes. Not today.''
`` Oh... my god, come on, again?'' his mom said. She was clearly angry with him, possibly even frustrated. He had learned that word from his father.
`` It's okay, I do n't mind.''
`` Your shoes are going to fall off and get ruined, so I mind. Let me see if we have any of the velcro kind left...''
Sure enough, they did, although they were a size to small and Rick was sure to get made fun of when he got to school. All the kids who did n't know how to tie their shoes wore the velcro kind.
At school, no one made fun of him, and Rick was thankful for that. His dad had bought him new shoelaces on his way home from work. Rick took them out of his shoes and hid the laces in his pocket before he slept.
That night, Rick woke and felt something moving around under his covers. He lifted his covers. `` Grengrams,'' he whispered. They were little creatures. They way they looked made Rick think of a worm that tried to be a human, but could n't, and so it was sad all the time. `` Why do you want my shoelaces?''
There were four of them tonight, more than usual, perhaps because he had hid the laces in his pocket. One of the grengrams bounced and Rick thought it might be trying to speak. The boy leaned closer so that he could hear.
`` We need the laces for the monster!'' the little grengram said. `` It grows with each day, and we must tie it down.''
`` What monster?'' Rick said, shaking and suddenly scared. `` Where is it?''
`` It lives inside your mother's belly. Every day, it grows a little more until it will make your mother hurt and bleed. We try to go inside and tie it down, but it will come out eventually, anyway.''
`` That's not good. I love my mom, how can I stop it?''
`` Give us laces.''
`` But that will just hold it down. Do n't we need to destroy it?''
`` Only you can destroy it. You have to jump on your mother's belly while she sleeps. Jump as hard as you can.''
`` Okay,'' Rick said and left his room, such was the importance of his mission. He opened up his parents' bedroom door and realized something: the grengrams had never told him why the monster was bad. If there really was something bad there, his mom was sure to know about it and see the doctor. That's what had happened with his aunt's cancer. Something grew in her boob until the doctor had to take it out.
Rick turned and walked back to his room. The grengrams were waiting. `` What's bad about the monster?''
`` It will come and disturb us. It will cry and smash us.''
`` Then leave. It's my house.''
`` Give us laces.''
`` No, leave.''
`` You will give us the laces! We'll give you anything, anything you want.''
`` I want you to go away.''
The grengrams did n't say anything, and left. Rick put the laces back on his shoe and slept with them on his feet. The grengrams never came back.
***
Grengrams are small, wingless wyrms that attempt to induce miscarriage in the hope of a feast. Typically they use ropes to achieve this by literally pulling the fetus from the womb, but they will enlist the help of others if they can. If you encounter one, tell it to leave three times, just like Rick did, and it will never come back.
|
[ WP ] As if summoned from nothingness a DeLorean comes skidding to a halt in front of you . The gull wing door opens and an old Marty McFly steps out . He says , `` She 's yours now kid ... '' and flips you the keys .
| Jesus Christ! This ca n't be happening... is... is he for real? I mean that does look like Marty McFly, so it's got ta be him, right?
He's already walked off while I've been standing here like an idiot for who knows how long. I hop in excitedly.
`` It's here! It's all here! The cool doors, the Flux Capacitor, this thing! Wow! This is heavy!'' I laugh at my wit and close the doors. I drive to a quieter area, trying to think of what to do first.
`` All of time... where to go? Kill Hitler? No, no, that's so cliche.'' I sit there for a second, overwhelmed. `` Wait, so if this is real... does that mean that *all* the events of the movie were real?'' I'm not sure, all I know is that I can cash all this out for some serious Karma on Reddit once I get back home.
Well, luckily I just happen to live where Back to the Future was filmed. I punch in October 26, 1985, the day Marty left in the movie. Which of course I remember.
I build up speed... 75... 80... 88! BAM! Colors flash through the windows, and before I know it, it's dark out. I'm at the mall. I get up, look around, take in a deep breath. I look out over the parking lot and... nothing...
`` Crap... Well maybe if I go back to when they filmed that scene I can find something.'' I take my phone out, try to search for the date I need on Google. Of course, no service. It's'85. How'd people live like this? I hop back in the DeLorean, pick up speed, and am back in the present.
I search for a while, and finally get the date. I race down the road again, and as I arrive in the past, I can see a film crew set up the parking lot.
`` Well if they're still filming, and Marty is n't in where he was in the movie... there can be only one explanation. A crazy person from the future who has an affinity for 80's movies has gifted me a time machine.''
A statement perhaps more ludicrous than `` Marty McFly gave me his DeLorean.'' I stroke my hair and pace back and forth, not sure what to do now.
`` Well, I know where NOT to go, definitely do n't want to run into my Mom...'' I shudder. `` Well I mean I guess I should check out the future. Maybe find some more out about this time travel stuff. BTF and The Time Machine all in one... This day ca n't get any stupider.''
|
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