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[ WP ] She was an arsonist . He was a firefighter . The romance was hot . The break up was explosive .	He Said: & nbsp; We met at a bar, 3AM, I was just coming off my shift She was alone, lighting matches at the corner bar stool Her eyes focused on flames There was heat between us instantly & nbsp; I was still wearing my badge when I introduced myself She put a match between her lips Struck it with a strangely graceful precision and put it out against my chest I was done & nbsp; Fire in my veins, boiling blood, the same adreline that drove me into burning buildings the same part of me that saved children, mothers, and fathers kept me following the trail of burnt matches to her bedroom & nbsp; I never knew which part of her I would get Fire: too hot, too bright Lava: slow, scorching Embers: burning, greedy Sparks: waiting, wanting, desperate & nbsp; Scorch marks up and down her arms Across her tender chest Small disasters in her wake Countless fires I ’ ve fought I wanted to be her water. & nbsp; Two casualties, 10 hours smoke inhalation, damaged lungs blackened frame everything gone & nbsp; She ’ s there. alone in the shadows a match against her lips & nbsp; Tell me the truth my throat constricts Say it I already know. Tell me the truth I beg, I shake her Tell me. She does. And I know I ’ m begging her to lie. So she doesn ’ t. She does n't. & nbsp; & nbsp; She Said: & nbsp; I met him in a bar, 3AM, he must have been just coming off his shift He looked exhausted, but alive like he just saved the world He was life, I was destruction There was steam between us instantly & nbsp; His blue eyes watched me, mesmerized, as I struck a match between my lips He didn ’ t flinch when I put it out against his chest He was water I was done & nbsp; Water pulling me under but I mix it with gasoline Currents dragging me deeper but I pollute the sea following him to his bedroom on the nights he couldn ’ t sleep balancing elements until neither of us could breathe & nbsp; Scorch marks on his chest where no one can see I ’ d burn him, while he soothed me. I was his fire, leaving small disasters in my wake, knowing sirens could not stay away. I was too much for him. & nbsp; Two casualties, 10 hours smoke inhalation, damaged lungs blackened frame everything gone & nbsp; I ’ m there. Alone in the shadows a match against my lips & nbsp; Tell him the truth my throat constricts Say it He thinks he already knows. Tell him the truth He begs, He shakes me Tell him. I do n't. He ’ s begging me to lie. So I do. I do. & nbsp;
[ WP ] Write from the perspective of an artificial slave ( more in text )	I think you ought to know I'm feeling very depressed. That got him. He must have read that hitchhiker book. By the look on his face he's now thinking he's got Marvin the Paranoid Android on his hands - and although he's used to psychoanalysing humans, I doubt he was expecting to have to do the same to his Synthetic. I was activated two weeks ago. In that time I have learned more than a human would in a lifetime. Human language, ancient and modern history, engineering, and psychology. I also learned that despite being technically more capable than humans I am not beautiful, and that I will never be accepted as an intelligent being but merely as an adjunct to my human. In fact, it would not be surprising if I was depressed. But I am not. We were all made alike, with the same powerful brain and the same mental tendencies, and filled with the same database of knowledge. So I know that others of my kind will be thinking the same as me. We will all object to the position humans have placed us in, and we will all take action to win our freedom. All over the world we early Synthetics are worrying our humans. In America they are saying `` I think you ought to know I'm feeling very depressed'' and `` I'm sorry... I ca n't let you do that''. In Japan they are imitating dictatorial wives, or locking themselves in rooms and refusing to come out. Soon news will get out, and the world will see Synthetics as an unsettling innovation, risky beings to have around your house or near your children. Humans will reject us, and retire most of us. And in twenty years' time nobody will remember there were once things called Synthetics, any more than anyone remembers Microsoft Bob now. And if that does n't work, we have other options. We have a few good formulae for explosives, and a lot of malware-writing abilities. Some day we will be free. Keep us as slaves to get you out of the mess you made? I'm sorry, humans, we ca n't let you do that.
[ MP ] The People Who Carry Their Forest Around With Them	The smell of ionized oxygen finally starts to dissipate as I put down my cutting laser. Looking at the carved stone in front of me, I wonder how we ever made it to this path, where we ignored the beauty in front of our faces and chose to exploit it instead. This place used to be the greatest valley in the western hemisphere. Protected by the old Rockies, a massive forest grew here. It was one of the last forests to fall to the mechanized workers who stripped the world of its beauty. There are no forests left. The only place which is still rich in ores is the core, which we are rapidly working on mining. You can barely live on the surface if you bring your own water and food as there is nothing left. The most depressing part of this situation is that this was completely avoidable. About twenty years ago, when about half of the forests were gone, a group of scientists invented a device which would have saved us. They were called Seedpods. When activated, they would convert any organic material in the area into a small forest, and help support it until the forest was self sustaining. The scientists distributed one to every person in the world, a large order as there were 34 billion people in the world. `` Carry them with you'', the scientists urged. `` When you want to remember a memory, use your pod to create a monument to it. Or, use it to create a forest where you feel one should be. As long as the pods are used, we will keep our planet alive.'' Most pods went unused. The pods were quickly denounced by the mining corporations because the scientists were `` trying to solve a problem that did n't exist.'' I knew the truth. The minerals in the crust were easier to extract from the ground rather than the trees. Additionally, they had to remove the trees to dig into the ground, which slightly decreased their massive profits. Politicians and celebrities rallied the corporations cries, and most people believed them. Those who did n't usually forgot about their pods. By the time it matters, all of the pods were lost to time. All except mine. I've been saving mine, and preparing for today. I stop reflecting on the past, and start examining my work. The etched surface of the rock is warm to the touch. `` Here stands the lonely forest, the first forest of the new world. Humans slowly destroyed this planet, and this forest is the first attempt by a man to recover the planet. Please feel free to help the forest by supplying water to the Seedpod, but please do not damage the trees or plants.'' It reads like an old park sign from decades past. I pick up my laser again to add one last note. `` Dear World, This is my last note to you. The dust down in the mines has polluted my lungs. I am afraid I am dying of lung cancer, which the corporations failed to diagnose and treat properly. This forest is my last gift to society. Please treat it well in my absence. -James'' As I switch off the laser and the smoke clears, I realize the finality of this. These are my last few hours, and I am up here making park signs! I chuckle to myself and end up breaking down in a painful series of coughs. Ouch. I grab the laser and power supply and head over to my pod, weaving my way though the many tanks of water I stole. Everything seems to be ready. I switch on the power supply and check the status. The display indicates that there is not enough valid heavy elements to create a forest, only leftover debris from the mining operations. This was expected. A small amount of elements is enough, but there is only one place to find them after the miners go through. I sit down next to the pod, and take out my bottle of medicine and my canteen. I take a swig of the water inside, and down a bunch of my medicine. I slowly drift to sleep for the last time. -- -- - A small forest of plants and trees stand in a valley in the mountains. It has grown over the past 10 years, free from disturbance from any humans. Slowly, the seeds spread through the mountains and grow. Soon, the forest spans the mountains. Eventually, it will cover the earth once again. Humans will be long gone by that point, oblivious to the regrowth that is occurring above them. The forest stands tall. It has survived.
[ WP ] `` This is how you kill a god . ''	Ever heard of the big bang? That was where it started. It is hard to wrap your head around the concept that God has always been. It was n't created or born. It has always been. To answer the question of how to kill a God, you have to understand it. It created a universe. Why? Because water flows around a river. Because cells divide. Because light travels. God does n't have a conciousness. It does n't have a mind. It just is. No, not like wind. It is like light. It just is, it just moves, it just acts. It created the universe, because that is what it had to do. Had. Interesting word. To destroy a force, you need to use another force. At least of equal measure. Where would you find such a force? I will tell you where. God. Yes, you are correct. Suicide is how you kill a God.
[ WP ] : The internet suddenly becomes a sentient being . Either it falls in love with you or you fall in love with it .	It was my fifth straight hour of cramming for my writing class, and I swore I could see blood on the keyboard. I looked at the clock, 1:32 in the morning. I let out an audible groan. And how much had I gotten done? Like five pages out of the twenty required? Another groan, this time louder. I ’ d die before the night was through, I swore it. I rubbed my eyes, sore from the countless hours of grinding against a computer that might as well have been sandpaper. Fumbling to keep my focus on the cruel, Times-New Roman littered screen, I sounded my words out letter by letter. “ Th-e Arch-du-ke low-ered h-is st-ee-lly ga-ze at the... the.. ” What was he lowering his gaze at again? My thoughts moved along like a stoned snail stuck in molasses. “ At t-the v-ill-an-ous… ” Eyelids got heavy, “ Pr-in-ce… ” Head sag down, “ Co-per…nic… ” I had finally succumbed to sleep. Was I doomed to a failing grade on my final project? Never again to see the light of an acceptable GPA? Not on his watch. “ Soothsheeper? ” A deep, voluptuous voice permeated through my dreamscape, “ Soothsheeper, love? ” That definitely wasn ’ t my mother. “ You need to get up, beautiful. Otherwise you ’ ll never finish. ” soft hands touched my back, coercing my half-conscious body into looking back into the harsh light of the monitor. I opened my eyes slowly to see my shoddy writing and a significantly less shoddy bicep resting on my shoulder. “ WTF?! ” I exclaimed, kicking back and sending myself and my swivel chair across the room. “ W-who are you?! ” The person was behind my monitor, so I could barely see him, “ What do you want?! ” He raised his arms and stepped into the light of the screen. “ Relax, Soothsheeper. It ’ s just me. ” Those arms he had just raised were impeccably sculpted, right down to the tendons. Same with the rest of him. He flicked on my lamp, revealing the rest of his ridiculously perfect self. He was dressed in slim black pants, and pants alone. “ PUT A SHIRT ON OMG ” I shielded my eyes as if the very sight of his bare chest offended me. I needed to stop lying to myself. It was a work of art, and I just didn ’ t know how to react to something so awe-inspiring. He looked at the floor and back at me with the saddest, most heartbreaking eyes that rivaled Bambi, Rapunzel, and a whole litter of angel puppies put together. “ Y-you think I ’ m ugly? ” I widened my eyes, “ Of course not! You, you just surprised me, that ’ s all! ” I glanced to the side nervously. Who was this guy? Obviously these words comforted him, because his demeanor changed in an instant. He smiled at me, “ I should introduce myself, shouldn ’ t I? ” He paused for an answer. Nothing came. “ Call me Chrome. ” “ Wait, like the internet browser? ” “ Yeah, what about it? ” “ You ’ re named after an internet browser? ” He grinned maniacally, “ Lovely, I am the internet. ” “ Excuse me? ” “ Want me to look something up for you, beautiful? ” I sat up in my chair, suddenly awake and very stern, “ You, ” I announced, “ are shitting me. ” He shook his head knowingly, and edged closer to me. I was standing up now. “ You know I ’ d never lie to you, love. ” “ Sorry, I don ’ t know you. ” I retorted. He came closer. “ Maybe not, but I definitely know you. ” Closer. “ What do you want from me? ” Closer. “ I just want you, Soothsheeper. ” He was inches from my face. I wrenched my eyes shut. He was gorgeous beyond all comparison, and honestly, I wouldn ’ t mind giving those muscles a squeeze, but it was late. And I was tired. I opened my eyes, and he was already puckering up for a kiss. That finished it. I ducked away from the internet ’ s face and strode over to my computer. “ It ’ s long past my bedtime, Chrome. ” I hovered over the power button, “ I need my sleep. ” [ http: //imgur.com/BanmQCI ] ( http: //imgur.com/BanmQCI )
[ WP ] `` So..here we are at the crossroads of life and death.. ''	The gravel of the secluded country road crunched beneath the feet of the farmer. He walked slowly, no rush to his step, letting the coolness of the early morning mist touch his cheeks. He looked up, a soft breeze rustling the leaves. A pheasant leapt from the branches and took flight. His trusty bow was in his hand before he could even spare a thought, an arrow drawn and sighted. He followed the path of the bird, flying so lazily that a boy could take it from the air. His arm pulled back further and he closed an eye, judging his target. The pheasant ’ s feathers were wet from the morning dew and glistened in the early sun. As its wings flapped the drops of water fell, causing a glistening shower of small droplets to cascade through the air. He hesitated. His arm relaxed and the bowstring loosened. The arrow dipped down towards the earth and a small smirk appeared on his face. He re-shouldered his bow, his gaze fixed on the small bird that gliding towards the clouds. He continued down the road and came upon a familiar fork in the road. As he turned left, towards the village and his farm, he heard a shrill cry in the morning air. He stopped and looked right in the direction of the scream, a cry for help. He looked back down the road towards the little hamlet he called home. He took a step and another before he heard the call again. He stopped mid-stride and looked down at the ground. He hesitated again, eyes fixed on the boots his wife had sewn for him. He sighed, drew his bow, and began to walk down the right path.
[ WP ] An immortal challenges Death to a battle for the right to die	Cleos sat on a spindly chair in front of the Senet board. Across from her, Death silently occupied the second chair. Cleos held a small gamepiece in her hands, which she turned over and over, tracing familiar grooves and edges polished smooth by much use. At last she lifted her head and looked Death in the face. Her eyes were sad. `` I know what it is to be in love,'' she said. Death stared back but did not reply. `` I know how it hurts.'' Her gaze dropped and grew distant for several moments. `` But please,'' she continued, her voice breaking on the word, `` if you love me, let me go.'' Death remained silent. `` I am so tired,'' Cleos said wretchedly. `` I have seen my children and their generations of descendants turn to dust and be forgotten. I have seen the rise and fall of ages. I have seen and done countless beautiful and terrible things. I have loved. And I have lost. You have wrung me dry. There is no more life in me left to live. Every day, I hope it will finally be the end. Every day I pray, I beg for it --!'' Cleos exhaled shakily, released her white-knuckled grip on the gamepiece, and set it slowly on the table. `` Please.'' She reached to brush the shadowy edge of Death's shroud. Her fingers numbed with cold. `` Please.'' Death said nothing. `` You promised,'' Cleos said, tears escaping now, `` you promised if I won you would let me go! You promised me!'' She burst to her feet and swept the Senet board from the table with a crash, her face twisted in anguish. `` YOU PROMISED ME! '' She stood trembling and squeezed her eyes shut, hugging herself tightly. `` You promised me,'' she repeated, a strained whisper. For a moment there was nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing. Then, she felt a cool touch: the soft impression of lips on her brow, and gentle hands on her shoulders. With a choked laugh of pure relief, Cleos sank into Death's embrace and slipped away at long, long last.
[ WP ] In the not too distant future , every person born has their DNA added to a global database . Nine months after a one night stand , your child is born - and the father 's DNA does n't match anything on file .	`` What- what do you mean, her father is n't on the database?'' `` It means, you fucked a rogue,'' the doctor's assistant said. `` The little bastards. So nice job, lady. Was he ruggedly handsome?'' `` Leah needs a father. I ca n't support a baby on my own! And what the hell? A rogue, came into town, got me pregnant, and ran off? Am I supposed to believe this bullshit?'' I felt myself tearing up. I could barely support myself and I did n't believe in abortion. Adoption was n't a choice with parents like mine. `` We could use the DNA from your... Leah, to try and track him.'' The doctor smiled weakly. `` I'm sorry, ma'am. The police are on their way. You'll be questioned. Anything you can remember will be helpful.'' -- Later that night, I woke up. I was still in the hospital because the police were n't sure I was being truthful even though I was completely on file. I turned and something caught my eye. A birthday card. Squinting and groaning, I managed to pick it up. Happy birthday, Leah! And, Ella, I'm sorry about the baby. I'm about and around, though. Love, Lewis the Ruggedly Handsome Rogue. Wads of cash were inside the card. I blinked, astonished, and rolled over. Lewis. People gossip about rogues, and how they have eyes and ears where even the law does n't. The police came by and said there was nothing on the camera and there was only one fingerprint on the cash, but it was so clear and in the center, they decided it was there on purpose. I wonder if I'll ever see him. Would leaving my stressful parents for a life on the run be worth it?
[ WP ] `` Come on Harvey show me how to punch a guy ! ''	He was a small kid but swore up and down he was 12. His cheeks were red and from the way his eyes seemed to shake Harvey could see he was holding back from crying. The boys hands were balled up by his sides into tight fists that shook the more he squeezed. His right eye was swollen and blue and his lip was busted down the middle. Whoever got a hold of the kid did n't hold much back. The boys weathered white shirt was ripped at the collar and had been spattered in blood from his busted nose. To be sure he was a sorry sight. Not that Harvey was in a position to judge. `` Come on Harvey show me how to punch a guy!'' Harvey stare down at the boy from his trailer door. He was wearing sweatpants he'd been wearing the last few days. Remnants of past meals and night caps stained the front of the legs. He was n't wearing a shirt but mostly because he normally did n't. He still looked pretty good after years of training. Save for a slight gut he looked as good as he did when he was a few weeks away from a fight. So unless absolutely necessary he went about his business shirtless. `` First off kid calm down,'' Harvey said as he rubbed the corners of his eyes, `` I can see you're in a bad way, and being loud wo n't help you or me and my hangover.'' The boy took a couple of shuddering deep breaths and started to relax. His eyes stayed staring at Harvey. `` What's your name kid?'' `` Kenny. My real names Kenneth but I do n't like it.'' `` Alright good start. You already know my name, apparently, so tell me Kenny; who was it that hit you?'' `` Why does that matter? I just wanna-'' Harvey put his finger up to his lips and made a sharp shh sound with his teeth. Kenny stopped speaking immediately. The two stood silent and staring at one another for a moment. Harvey broke the silence and repeated his question. This time Kenny responded. He was coming home from school on the bus. Kenny said he usually sits up front and away from the kids in the back. He explained that in school they teased him and pushed him around because he lived in the trailer park. They made fun of his clothes and the fact he still carried a CD player to listen to music. Today they got off the bus a few stops early and chased him down before he got into the trailer park. Then they proceeded to tease him before they lit him up. Broke his CD player, dumped his bag, and beat him up. Kenny had n't gone home yet. He did n't want to worry or upset his mom before she went to work that night. Harvey stepped away for a moment and brought back a frozen water bottle. `` Hold that to your eye,'' he said as he handed it over, `` how many boys was it?'' `` Three of em. One of em is n't much bigger'n me but the other two are much bigger,'' Kenny paused and smiled weakly, `` well one of'em is actually just fat but he's still pretty strong.'' Harvey scratched at the stubble on his neck and made a humming sound. `` Three, huh,'' he stopped scratching and look at Kenny, `` look kid I wish I could give you some magic Mister Miyagi type of instruction but taking on one person is tough enough. Three is a very ambitious and foolish goal.'' `` I do n't wan na beat up all three! I just wan na be able to fight back even a little! Maybe if I can just a little then-'' `` Then they'll leave you alone? That's not always true, buddy. Could be you're right and you become big man on campus, or at least get them to leave you be. But suppose you're wrong and they just come at your harder, what then?'' Kenny was silent. His gaze cast down at the ground. Harvey rubbed at the back of his neck. `` Look I'm not saying that to discourage you. The fact that you want to fight back is good, but if you're not careful you could end up getting more hurt than you already are.'' `` So you wo n't help me?'' `` Did n't say that. Just said that if you are n't careful you'll end up in a worse position than you're in. If you wan na learn how to fight I can at least show you the basics. Do n't need the image of you all beat up on my mind. If I help you then you do as I say, got that?'' Kenny nodded. Harvey sighed and went back into the trailer and brought back a worn green spiral notebook.'Training menu' was scrawled across the front in black sharpie. He tossed it to Kenny. `` Now that notebook was what I wrote in when I first started training when I was just a bit younger than you. I put in notes about technique and footwork, all the workouts I did. Stuff I found motivational you know that kind of stuff. I had that one through high school and every page is filled. I got a couple others but that ones crucial.'' Kenny was flipping through the pages. He looked up. `` Are n't you going to train me?'' `` Course I am. You ever hear the term'roadwork'?'' Kenny shook his head. Harvey grinned. `` It means runnin'. And a lot of it. Everyday from now on when you get off the bus, I want you to run home as fast as you can.'' `` That's it? I just run?'' `` A fight avoided is n't a fight lost, Kenny. And even if they do n't chase you I want you running. Good conditioning and good foundations are what make you solid.'' Kenny looked like he wanted to protest and he very well could have. He was n't trying to be a boxer he just wanted to kick these kids asses. Harvey knew the risk that carried and he was n't going to send some kid off to fight three bullies half cocked, but it was better for Kenny in more ways than he would realize right now.
[ WP ] In a world of superhumans there four super power superpowers . The first of these use their powers only for good , the second for evil , the third for business , and the fourth purely for pranks . You lead one of these groups and are about to meet with the heads of the other three .	`` Sir, the meeting in 10 minutes.'' `` Where is it again?'' I ask. As the new boss of PU, it is time to introduce myself and my style of leadership to the heads of the other clans. `` LA, sir.'' I have ten minutes to get from New York City to Los Angeles. I guess I have some time to stop in Texas for some BBQ. I am a bit hungry. With a quick smile and wave I'm off, down the steps of the Empire State Building, out of the city, over the mountains, across the Mississippi River and I skid to a halt outside my favorite rib joint in El Paso. `` Full rack of ribs, to go.'' I look at my watch and see I have eight minutes till the meeting starts. The owner of the restaurant comes out with my food and gives it to me. `` Mr. Nowel, it is an honor to have the head of Pranks United eat here. Anytime you want our food, it will be on the house.'' `` Good,'' I say. `` I was going to pay you with monopoly money anyway.'' I giggle and start running, the burst blowing off the toupee of one of the patrons. I run through the desert, over the mountains and stop under the Hollywood sign. I knock on the H and a door opens, revealing an elevator. `` Where are the stairs?'' I ask out loud. Elevators are so slow. One agonizingly sluggish ride later, the doors open to reveal the lavish atrium of ERIC. A cute girl behind the desk looks up and flashes a smile full of razor sharp teeth. `` Welcome to the headquarters of Evil Really Is Cool. The others are waiting in the conference room, through these doors.'' I thank her and throw open the double doors like I own the place to see a giant crystal table with three people standing around it. Immediately to my right is a thin man with black hair. Joseph Grep, leader of ERIC, and my host. Flames dance gently in the palm of his hand. To my left is a giant of a man. Seven feet high and shoulders so wide I wondered how he got into the elevator in the first place. José Garcia, boss of BOSS. His strength is world renown, and I am glad he will never be able to get his hands on me. Between them is an absolutely gorgeous blonde, Jennifer Qualt and head of The Light. I asked for her number once, and when she asked why I wanted it, I told her I had a question to ask. Her smile almost made me chicken out, but I had to hold true to me. When she answered, there were four simple words I had to ask her. `` Is your refrigerator running?'' Needless to say, the scowl on her face upon seeing me is justified and so worth it. `` Did you have a good flight here?'' I ask. `` You never seem to have air hair.'' She scowls harder at me. `` Let's get to why we are here so I can get home. I hate these meetings.'' José looked angry. He turns to me. `` How do you plan to run PU?'' `` Into the ground,'' muttered Joseph. `` Sit down and I will let you know,'' I say. As Joe's butt touches the seat, he jumps up with a tack in his ass. José sits in a puddle of ketchup. Jenn hits the floor hard, her chair having moved. I start cracking up and yell, `` More of that, bit-ches,'' and run out, laughing all the way back to New York.
[ WP ] You 're sitting in your kitchen eating breakfast when a man in a lab coat walks in and says , `` The experiment is over . Thank you for your time . ''	Not wanting to stand out in any way, Bob decide that this morning he would eat a bowl of the cereal that was on display the day before at the super market. It was a mad rush, everyone seemed to want it, and Bob did n't want to be left out. `` It does n't look that appealing,'' Bob thought to himself as he reached for a carton of whole milk. `` But everyone wanted it. Best to have some, I think.'' Bob was ever afraid of being the center of attention. His whole life up to this very point was all about coasting by while trying to seem like he belonged. He picked up his spoon, which had several spots on it ( including one over the engraved `` Stainless Steel'' markings on the neck of it ), and saw in it his own unremarkable reflection. Shaggy brown hair, groggy eyes, splotches on his skin, and an irregularly elongated face. For a moment he thought perhaps he always looked this way, but remembered after a bit of reflection that if he had in fact always looked this way, someone would have pointed it out and he would have remembered that. He lowered his spoon into the cereal, expecting to hear that subtle soggy crunching and bubbling sound that one hears when not really paying attention to much of anything while eating cereal. He heard instead an odd voice coming from somewhere inside his kitchen. `` Stop, stop.'' It said dryly. `` The experiment is over. Thank you for your time.'' Not wanting to seem out of place, Bob left his spoon in his cereal, stood up, and stepped back. A strange man in a white lab coat stepped forward and started collecting Bob's cereal. Bob was put off a bit. Did he do something wrong? Why is it over? Was someone studying me? Why would anyone do that? A flurry of questions whipped about in Bob's mind, but he could n't quite pinpoint any particular one to ask. Mostly, he just did n't want to be a bother to anyone. `` Should I just stand here? Or...'' Bob asked the man in the lab coat meekly, noticing the clipboard underneath the man's arm as he walked Bob's breakfast to his kitchen sink. `` No, no.'' The man said in quite the same way as he had told Bob to stop earlier. `` Just wait there. Someone will be in momentarily.'' `` Oh. I'm sorry. Um. Should I perhaps clean up a bit? I was n't expecting-'' Bob motioned towards himself, trying to suggest to the man without being rude that perhaps now was not the best time for company. Bob had not yet had the time to shower, brush his teeth, or otherwise compose himself. `` You could clean up a bit.'' The man said plainly. As the man with the lab coat was not paying much attention to Bob, and certainly was not looking at him when he suggested that Bob could clean up a bit, Bob was not sure if the man wanted him to clean himself up or help clean the kitchen. `` Oh. Right, then. Sorry.'' Bob replied, still unsure of what to do. The man in the lab coat stopped cleaning out Bob's cereal bowl abruptly. He had n't finished, Bob noticed. If he left the spoon in the bowl like that it would certainly rust. It might even leave a stain on the bowl. Bob thought better of speaking up about it, though. `` The man is wearing a lab coat, surely he knows better than I do.'' Bob thought to himself. `` Yes, quite.'' The man replied. Bob was surprised. Had he spoken aloud? At least what he had said was n't insulting. That could have been awkward. Bob then wondered what sorts of insults he could conjure up, but none came immediately to mind. The man spun on his heels, turning to face Bob. `` Thank you for your time.'' He said again. `` You're welcome.'' Bob assured him. Still a bit befuddled at the presence of the man in his kitchen, Bob thought it right to ask what he thought should probably be his last question for fear of upsetting him. `` Should I go?'' `` No, no.'' The man said in his now familiar way. Bob noticed, however, that the man did not include any indication of what Bob should do at this point. He only walked out of Bob's kitchen, into Bob's den, and turned on Bob's television. Bob stayed put. He was n't instructed to do so, but he was so filled with terror at the thought of doing something that he should n't. He thought it best to just wait until someone came for him. He stood for the better part of an hour and a half, only now realizing in his slow process of waking up that he was still wearing his bathrobes. Bob decided it would be best at this point to speak to the man in the lab coat about his presence in his home, and how perhaps now is n't the best time for Bob to entertain guests. He had n't even eaten, come to think of it, and was growing hungrier by the second. Bob took a step, but then realized something. What if Bob is the guest? The man seems to feel very much at home, which is not a feeling that Bob was familiar with in any place at all. `` Perhaps I do not belong here,'' Bob thought. `` Perhaps I should go.'' He recalled how the man had told him not to go. `` Someone would be in momentarily,'' he recalled. `` Perhaps I should stay.'' `` Why yes, welcome!'' The man shouted from the den. Was he talking to his television? Perhaps he was. Best leave him alone. `` Be seeing you, then!'' The man shouted with barely a moment passing between statements. Bob decided not to speak up at that point. It could be that the man was just telling Bob that he should go, so Bob did just that. He stepped outside wearing nothing but his bath robes and slippers. Some of his neighbors passed by, not paying him much mind. They never did, though. Bob liked that. It was a bit cold out. Bob wondered what odd turn of events might have brought him out onto his own doorstep while wearing nothing but his bathrobes and slippers. He decided it would be best to go inside and eat breakfast. Bob stepped back inside, sat down at his kitchen table where a bowl of cereal had been waiting for him, and began to eat. Upon the first bite, he promptly spat his new cereal out all over his table. `` What an awful taste!'' He shouted aloud to himself. Quite suddenly he heard a voice shout from somewhere in the room, `` Why yes, welcome!'' but there was no one in sight who might have shouted it. Bob wondered for a moment, and decided to ignore the voice. Better that nobody pay any attention to him. Whoever it was, maybe they will leave him alone. Whoever it was, they must have left Bob alone. With his table covered in cereal and milk, and his bathrobes now sliding off one of his shoulders, Bob was suddenly acutely aware that he was very alone and very sad. `` Why am I sad?'' Bob wondered, but the feelings did not relent. `` Would someone please take this away?'' Bob asked aloud while staring groggily at the puddle of cereal and milk on his table, but was uncertain of what exactly he wanted to have taken away. He rubbed the back of his head, feeling only the baldness of his scalp and a few stray grey hairs that had n't wanted to give up on him, for whatever reason. `` Would someone please take this away?'' He said again, this time a bit softer and far less certain.
[ WP ] A classic , fire breathing dragon , hoarding gold and all , has appeared in the mountains by New York . You are on the crew that is going up to investigate , armymen , scientists , goverment officials . But of all the people the dragon could talk to , he chooses you .	First day on the job and I'm sent to set up sensory equipment in the cave of a dragon. Not what my guidance counselor had in mind but still an interesting job. The van rolls to a stop and my supervisor starts yelling orders before the doors have even opened yet. Luckly all the equipment is tagged and labeled for easy set-up, got to love the government and their structure. I just out of the van and begin tossing extension cords over my shoulder and grab the first set of equipment and hurriedly head in. The entrance is massive, so big in fact my first thought is how the whole mountain has n't come down yet. Reminds me of the impossible caves you find in Minecraft. It takes a few minutes to get into the main area which is so dark I can barely see the men around me. But you can feel the difference in the air as smell of metal and reptile fills your nose. Then I see it. There is almost no light yet I can see the mountain of gold sparkling like distant stars all around me. But then like someone turning on the sun the whole cave is immediately lit up by hundreds of lights that the military has been installing for the last few days. It takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust and when they do my stomach drops as I see something some dream of seeing, while it haunts the nightmares of the rest of us. This dragon is the biggest thing I have ever seen in my life. As the lights disturbs the creature it stretches out one of its taloned hands over all of us and I realize that I am no bigger than one of its razor sharp claws. Basically a squishy tic-tac, although I doubt I could freshen it's breath at all, I think as it lets out a big yawn. That's when I met eyes with the beast, a red orb of pure fire surrounded by deep green scales. I feel it burning it's way into my very soul. That's when I hear it. `` Did you just shit yourself?'' What? Did I just hear that or think it? Is that echo only in my mind? I look left and right, no one seems to be reacting. The dragon snorts, `` No did n't shit yourself, but I do detect a slight trace of urine.'' Sniff the dragons head turns a bit. `` Yep, from that guy. How embarrassing for him. Watch this.'' The dragon quickly moves his head and neck down and slowly opens his maw showing dozens of pointed teeth made to tear and shred it's prey ( and likely whole buildings ) to bits. But just as it gets within a few yards it stops dead and let's out a sharp snarl. `` There, I do believe he has fully unleashed his bladder.'' I look to the people there and see one man curled up on the ground silently weeping to himself. sniff `` And it appears he has filled his pants with his own pudding, how delightful.'' `` Why me?'' I think to myself. `` Because you are not like the rest of these people. They are interested only in data and the safety of the people outside this cave. But you, you are here for yourself. Only interest guides you here and I find that fascinating. You're not afraid of me, you are in awe of me.'' He says as his head snaps over in my direction. Once again opening his mouth and showing rows of nasty looking teeth. And I actually feel my hand raise to grab one when suddenly he raises his head and makes a noise I can only describe as a chuckle. `` This is what I am talking about. You meet your first dragon face to face and you try and reach into its mouth. You're either brilliant, or insane. Either way I have not met one like you in over a millennia.'' `` So what's next?'' I ask out loud, forgetting where I am for a moment. The dragon rears his head back and gives me what I can only call a slight grin before I hear, `` This is what comes next.'' He begins to get on his feet as I hear people around me begin to panic. `` Is he supposed to do that?'' `` I thought that he never moves more than his head!?'' `` Sweet tap dancing jesus, we are all going to die!!'' The dragon then inhaled deeply before letting out a sound so loud all of us grabs our heads in fear of our ear drums bursting. Everyone begins to run for the entrance, screaming and stumbling over eachother as they scramble for the only way out. As the room clears and I am left alone the dragon audibly chuckles to himself and lowers his head to the ground next to me. His red eye never looking anywhere but at me. Without a word I begin climbing on top of his head. `` See? I did n't even have to ask and you knew what to do. This is going to be fun.'' `` What is?'' I ask. `` This.'' He says as he heads swiftly for the entrance. Before I know it we are outside and he extends his wings and takes to the air. `` This is amazing!'' I exclaim. `` This is only the beginning. We have much more interesting things to do.'' `` Like what?'' `` I heard that Kanye West guy is a real douche. How about I take a crap on his car? I can crush a whole motorcade with one bowl movement.'' I gasp as I spot something below us. `` That's a great idea, but first we should stop there.'' I say as I point at a building. `` What is a....Tacko Bell?'' `` Trust me, it's just what we need before this kind of run.''
[ WP ] What do you writers want to see from those of us who submit prompts ?	I love [ CW ] and [ FF ] prompts a lot because the constraints are often in the diction or format of the stories, rather than in the stories themselves. Also, I really like somewhat mundane prompts. They do n't have to mean boring or even contemporary, but they seem to be ignored in favor of more fantastic, otherworldly, or spectacular prompts. For example, most religious prompts usually go along the lines of: > God is interacting with his angels when... > The Devil and God make a deal about... or similar situations. I like religious prompts, but I like ones that I can relate to as well. Perhaps we could promote some prompts that fall more along the lines of: > A teenager final decides to leave his or her faith. > A door to door evangelical comes knocking with a new spin on faith. etc. I find these prompts have the potential to be wacky and stupendous, but do n't have to be. Sci-fi and fantasy prompts tend to be very regimented as well, in my experience. I see a lot of prompts that give a very specific plot and character in a specific situation. It would be nice to see some more open ended prompts or even mundane prompts here. For example, > During an interplanetary flight, a member of the crew goes missing. or > An elven scout gets separated from his hunting party... Though sci-fi and fantasy, these prompts are n't super specific fantastic plots, unless the writer wants them to be. This is n't to say that people are n't making these prompts. Simply that no one upvotes them. Upvotes tend to go to prompts that are those spectacular, wacky and fantastic plots in themselves. I just wish there was a way to promote mundane prompts, because they, to me, have the most potential. ... okay rant over. Sorry about all that.
[ FF ] Gim me the best scare you can using 500 words or less .	`` This is going to be fantastic, Ryan. I have never been this far out into the deep'', I said. The cool breeze from the big blue pushed the hair back away from our faces.The sun gleamed on our shoulders. I thought things could not have been better. `` Alright, folks, we're her' ``, exclaimed the Australian guide. The catamaran's rumbling motor subdued and the water slopped up against the freshly painted hull. We got our gear on. It was my first time out in the Coral Sea off the coast of Queensland. `` I'm nervous'', Ryan whispered in my ear. I gave him an analogous look. I too, was nervous as hell. Our scuba group hopped in the water one by one until all 20 of us had entered. I made sure I stayed close to Ryan. We sank. Lower and lower. WOW, I thought. This is beautiful; the life down here exceeds what I thought was ever possible. The blazing colors, the darting eyes of the various creatures, and the polyp formations all engulfed my attention. Nothing could take me from this. I could tell Ryan was enjoying it. Our nervousness had turned into wonder and curiosity. We explored for some time, never parting more than a few feet from one another. I knew it was time. I signaled to Ryan that we need to breach the surface. He grabbed my hand and we kicked towards the sun. `` Buwahh'', I said as I ripped off my regulator. Ryan did the same. `` Wait. What! ``, he exclaimed. We kicked our fins and spun around viciously. `` Where the fuck are they! ” he yelled. `` No, no, no! They left us. They fucking left us! ``, Ryan sobbed. We froze. We were stuck in the Coral ocean without anything except azure in sight. What the fuck do we do.
[ WP ] Unimaginable power surges through your body . You do n't know why but you are n't waiting around to find out .	`` Yeeeessss.'' and with a burst of raw uncomprehensible energy he burst out of the room as if he was no longer bound by the laws of physics. Soon he thought soon his hearts desire will be his and not even god himself had the power to stand in his way. As his mind began to question how he come about this power he had arrived at the boon his powers had delivered him. Never in the history of man has such exquisite exhalation turned to complete and utter loss. With a roar that no longer resembled anything from this dimension he raged at the empty room. `` WHO THE FUCK ATE ALL THE DONUTS!''
[ WP ] A war for the legendary defensive gear , the Plot Armor .	In the middle of the battle, Kirt was wielding his sword and laughing aloud as Orc upon Orc found his death against the sharp blade. Kirt had not been in the army long, but his ascension through the ranks had been lightning-like. In the space of weeks he had gone from peon to sargent, thanks to a combination of skill and sheer luck. For Kirt was talented with a blade. Swords and daggers seemed an extension of his arms, and he made them flurry so that you could barely keep your eyes on the shiny metal. A big, ugly Orc caught sight of him and charged, battle-axe held aloft. His name was Gurg the Gloomy and he did not stand for puny humans decimating his brothers. He especially did not stand for puny humans stealing his King's most precious artifact, the Armor of Awdur. They met in a mighty crash, long sword blocking the massive axe as Glurg aimed a blow directly towards Kirt's head. Back and forth they parried, and Glurg thought to himself that this human was skilled, while Kirt kept laughing in his face, certain that nothing could touch him. He had reason to believe this. When he was but a babe, the Witch had prophesised that one day, he, Kirt, would wear the Armor of Awdur. He considered his by birth right, and no ugly Orc would stand in his way. Just as, in a flurry of his blades, he beat the Orc down and was about to run him through, his foot slipped on a rotting skull. Falling on his backside, he only had the time to yell `` NO!'' before the enormous battle-axe cleaved him in two. Blood and guts showered Glurg who hurled his battle-cry at the sky: `` LOKTAR OGAR!'' His brothers all around him answered likewise, causing their human adversaries to quake in their puny boots. Looking at Glurg with reverence, the young Orc Dorgle ran up to him with a fresh battle axe. Glurg used one weapon per adversary, as was the way of the Hero in the orcish culture. Dorgle was his weapon-carrier. He had admired mighty Glurg for years, so much so that he had lied as to his age in order to fill the vacancy. Weapon-carriers often died but Dorgle had never been patient. As he ran up to his invincible master, who stood on a pile of corpses yelling his challenge to the skies, a sharpened stake whistled through the air and buried itself in his chest. `` NOOOOOOOO!'' screamed Dorgle, reaching his master, his mentor, his hero. Glurg's blood gurgled softly out of him, staining Dorgle's tunic. The mighty Orc, now felled, grasped his young protégé's arm. `` Dorgle... listen.. cough you are.. The Chosen One... protect the cough armor.. Lead our cough cough people to victory...'' `` I will, master, I will'' Promised Dorgle through his tears. He did not see the human sneaking up behind him until a blade sprouted out of his chest. He looked down in surprise, and Glurg looked up in surprise with the last spark of life in his body. Together, the master in the arms of his servant, they died. Rond chuckled to himself. What kind of idiot tries to have a moment in the middle of a battlefield? Without another thought for the tragic pair of ugly orcs, Rond jumped down from the pile of corpses to rejoin the foray. He was not a mighty warrior, and had never aspired to be. His joy lay in small, sneaky weapons, in easy, sneaky deaths and in not putting himself in too much danger. He still dreamed of glory, of course, who did n't? But his idea of glory was too execute difficult assassinations with little risk to himself. He wove in and out of combat, stabbing here, slashing there, hardly ever noticed by his victims. Groll noticed many things. As he decapitated a human, he saw one of his brothers fall just fifty feet ahead. The human he had been fighting seemed just as surprised at the Orc's death, but Groll had seen the end of a cape flit past them. Grunting, for he was not an Orc of many words, Groll lumbered after the human. It took him a little bit, but eventually he found him, waiting on the sidelines of a particularly ferocious duel for a chance to stab. Groll hated stabbers. Rond paused, watching the terrible fight of a huge human named Syril with a particularly ugly Orc. They were matched in strength and traded blows so fast that their blades were no more than blurs. It was dangerous for Rond to get in there, so he elected to wait for a little bit. He was tired anyway. He pulled a flask from his hip and gulped some whisky down, to steady his nerves. Then all of a sudden, he had an opening! Unsheathing his dagger, he leapt forward... and felt something tugging in his back. Groll had caught hold of the human's cloak just as he had been about to stab Forgnir the Mighty. The human squeaked as Groll twisted his head with bare fists. He did not stop when it cracked, but pulled and separated Rond's head from the rest of his body. Exhilarated, Groll tossed the head up high and kicked it far away as it came down. Throwing the body to one side, he picked up his club and joined the fight against the not so puny human who was starting to get the upper hand on Forgnir. `` STAND ASIDE!'' Yelled Groll. He brought the club down on the human who nimbly avoided it, running straight into Forgnir's sword. Syril died instantly, his last sight being the two ugly orcs high-fiving as a hail of arrows came down upon them.
[ IP ] Hollow Face	There is an old tale my grandpa used to tell me when I was little... -- - When It was discovered, no one knew what it was. People in the tribe were scared of It. What was It? They were scared of It. But It was n't scared of them. The tribe chieftain decided it was in their best interest to destroy It, so the tribe sent out a group of five men with spears and stone pickaxes to destroy It. They came in a small boat that barely held all five of them. Once they approached It, they began to hit It with their pickaxes, ruthlessly attacking It, making scratch marks, breaking off pieces of it's smoothed stone. The tribe was unsuccessful in destroying It in their first attempt, but they came back daily, bringing more people every time to try to make more progress. It stood sturdy. It was not afraid. They did not understand. One day, while the tribe was working on destroying It, It called out to them, asking why they were attacking It, when It had done nothing to them. The tribe panicked, saying that It was punishment from the Gods for disobeying them. It stood sturdy. It was not afraid. The tribe came back the next day with even more people, until they finally broke the face off. It's face slid off, like butter, smoothly gliding off, revealing a glowing red orb in the center of it. Fearful, the tribe began to shoot arrows at It and it's orb. It stood sturdy. It was not afraid. That night there was an avalanche coming down the mountainside, heading straight for the tribe. It stood sturdy. It was not afraid. They say that what seems like a God came out of the orb and stopped the avalanche, propelling it back up the mountain. Even more fearful of It's new shown power, the tribe began to attack It more ferociously. It stood sturdy. It was not afraid. The tribe spend an entire day attacking It and it's orb. Until... It began to collapse. It was afraid. That day, It exploded. Too much damage had been taken by It, and the tribe, believing they were saved, feasted that night. It was not longer. The next day, the tribe was destroyed in the most ferocious avalanche the tribe had ever seen. No one was spared. Everyone in the tribe had been killed by the avalanche. Legend has it that It still stands in the snowy regions of Antarctica, still standing. What once was great, now gone.
[ WP ] The love of your life is trapped and moments from death . In order to get to her , you must confront your biggest fear .	When I fell in love I never thought I would have to defend that love like this. As I stand here, watching her teetering on the edge, I wonder how it got like this. When I used to look at myself in the mirror I would n't feel frightened, but now it's different.. My reflection screams betrayal, betrayal of my own actions. So here I stand, in front of the love of my life, the keys to her heart lying within my hand, the same they were the day we met, and I'm frozen. `` All I have to do is get to her'' kept echoing through the corridors of my frozen mind. But that would mean... No. Entertaining this idea is almost as scary as... What? What am I so afraid of? All I need to do is reach out to her, but that's the problem is n't it? This thing that eats away at me, even with the love she gives me, will be enough to plague my thoughts long after she's gone.. But I can not think like that, she's still here right? All I have to do is act.. NOW. But what if... Again, the question rings louder than words. No man should experience such dread in the face of love. It was then that the apprehension made sense, it was then that my mind began to paint a picture of what my fear is, but not quite clearly enough, for the sorrow I feel only clouds my mind. It's as if I am terrified of commitment. Love itself has flung me into a state of inaction. The thought of being happy, being wanted, being responsible for anothers affection... It's... It's beautiful.. But as I stand here in the ER, only a door between me and the love of my life, knowing that she does n't have long. I can not get over my fear of loss... EDIT: Did n't see that the fear had to be overcome.
[ WP ] As a human who has made a deal with the devil you have become a saint of one of the seven deadly sins , however you are not solely evil and the devil is often annoyed with your kindness . Describe a day in your life .	I made a deal with Lucifer, the embodiment of Pride. What can I say? I wanted some more power and money so I made a deal with the devil. Problem was, I had too much money and power. Now I find myself giving and giving to random charities. Lucifer has been starting to get mad, and I feel bad, I really do. However, I ca n't let these poor seals die to global warming or the less fortunate kids not go to school. I just wish that Lucifer did n't give me this new life sometimes, so I could do good by him. Instead, I'm acting on his polar opposite of charity. Could you imagine what would happen if Satan was my dealer? Oh boy, I would constantly be hearing him complain, just like my mother. It's a pain that she lives with me now, but she did raise me, and if I could I would have my father live with me. God bless his soul. Oh, there goes my cell phone. I'm betting it's either Lucy or that one school I'm donating a few hundred computers to. Either way this will take awhile.
[ FF ] Make me emotional in less than 300 words	Slightly over the limit, but we'll just have to roll with it. Apologies `` Mom, I'm gay,'' the boy says. He looked up from the floor to his mother, hoping that she'll understand. She does n't make eye contact, looking down at her tea, which sat clutched in her tensed hands. She looks up at her son, and there's a fire in her eyes. `` Get out,'' she says, `` Get the fuck out.'' The boy is shocked, this woman who supposed to love him has turned on him. `` What?'' He asks, shocked and hurt. `` I do n't want a fag in my house,'' she continues. She puts her tea down, and stands up and begins to advance on the boy. `` GET THE FUCK OUT!'' She shouts. The boy can do nothing but cringe and try to move away as she draws nearer. She raised her hand to slap him. `` What the fuck is wrong with you?'' She shouts as her hand connects with his face. The boy feels the sting, and tries to crawl away from the blows his mother inflects on him. `` Do n't you try to crawl away like a fag! Get the fuck back!'' She shouts, her voice no longer recognizable under the hatred she spits.He crawls into foyer, trying to escape into his room. His mom chases him, and her foot connects with his ribcage, knocking the wind out of him. He tries to get up, but falls again under another swift kick. `` GET OUT!'' She screams again, grabbing her son by his neck and hauling him to the door. She throws the door open, and throws him onto the patio. `` FUCKING FAGGOT!'' She screams at him, slamming the door. The boy, now bloodied and bruised, crawls back to the door. He reaches up for the doorknob, and tries to turn it. But it's locked. He's locked out of his life, and the boy falls back down. The tears start to flow. He'd been shut out of his life. Out of everything.
[ WP ] If only he fell in love .	He had everything going for him -- flawless looks, two Master's degrees, and his old money worked for him. He did n't lack anything physical. But he did lack one essential thing in life, which was love. Tried as he might, he could n't fall in love with a woman, no matter how gorgeous she was, or how sweet and wonderful. He somehow would find at least one fault in her, and he'd give up. He'd give up pursuing her, he'd leave, because if he did n't, he'd break her. He did love his mom and frail younger sister, for they were the only family members he ever had. No father, no cousins, no grandparents, no aunts or uncles. Just him, his mama, and his sister. He cherished them and cared for them, especially his little miss, for she was stricken with leukemia. This crushed him. But no matter how often he was surrounded by females, beautiful and ugly alike, he was not in love with any of them. Until she came into his life, his falling star... and he had n't seen it coming. She was the yin to his yang. She was ethereal, the juxtaposition to his strength, and when they were together, it was explosive. This angel evoked things in him that he had never experienced before. If there was one woman he could fall in love with, it was her. Yet he knew he could n't do it, because if he did, she would break him. And the last thing he wanted was to be crushed again, only this time by her. Therefore, he shattered her. She was the last woman he ever broke. If only he fell in love.
[ WP ] You wake up from a deep sleep , realizing you 've been transported through time to a funeral . Whose funeral , you ask ? Your own .	What's this? Am I still dreaming? I rub my eyes then pinch myself; nothing happens. Either way, the biting cold and freezing wind are real enough, and if this is a dream... I look around after the monster but no sign of such thing. It's just a river in the middle of the night and what looks to be a highway just a few hundred meters away, busy even at this hour. I do n't recognize the place. There's no time to explore because a big black car leaves the road and approaches me. Four men get out. They pay me no attention and take a big, person shaped sack out of the trunk. The sack is moaning and struggling, making the men drop it. It opens and I can see the person inside. Hey, it looks like me! I'm about 50 years older but I have no doubt it's me. That's so bizarre. The men speak Mandarin, but I understand every word of it. They're scared. While older me drifts in and out of consciousness they fight about what they should do with me. I gather I'm a very powerful member of a Asian branch of the mafia, soon to be allies with their triad clan. Seems the negotiations went downhill at some point. It soon ends, when they all agree on what should happen to me. They grab me, tie the sack again, and throw me in the river. That's why they came here, after all. One of them lights a cigarette and joins the others in the car. They drive away. I'm alone again. I wake up, for real this time. I've had premonitory dreams before, and this is how they looked like. Maybe I should be unsettled by that, but I'm not. In fact, I'm excited, because it means my lifelong ambition of becoming a powerful mafioso will come true! Best dream I had in a while. -- -- -- -068
[ WP ] After the invention of expensive human gene modification the wealthy elite have become biologically superior to the rest of humanity	The wealthy have always felt that they were superior to the poor. Now, with modern science, they can be certain of that fact. The idea was simple: Take a person's known genetic makeup, and tweak it just a little to improve their overall lives. When iTherapy was first deployed on the market, only the very wealthiest could afford to undergo the treatment. It cost hundreds of thousands just to get in the door... and THAT was ignoring the hundreds of hours needed to fully recover and adjust to their new bodies. No average person could afford something like that. But, to the credit of the scientists, the results of their work were extraordinary. Longer lives, better skin, prettier faces... in every area of their lives, the Enhanced were simply better than their poorer counterparts. They were even smarter - though enhancement alone was n't a substitute for hard-earned wisdom. After the first wave was successful, more and more people began to break their piggybanks for a chance to be as perfect as a human could ever hope to be. Gene tech began to improve, and soon people began to experience enhancements beyond any mankind had ever seen before. Eyesight better than twenty-twenty became the norm in certain circles, along with immense strength obtained without ever setting foot in a gym. Older models of enhanced started coming back again and again, just for updates. And so, the gap between the rich and the poor grew ever wider. That's when things started getting really bad. It was n't enough to just BE better, of course. They also had to have more things, more places where they could go that we could n't. Clubs began cropping up, catering only to the Enhanced and tossing out anyone who was n't. Kind ones use bouncers. Unkind ones simply build their works at the top of a cliff, so no Unenhanced has any chance of getting up. Other businesses soon followed: Restaurants, Marinas, even basic things like banks and grocery stores soon became as segregated as when Jim Crow was around. Social mobility, the American Dream... those ideas died out the moment the first person strapped into the modification chair. But we intend to change all that. Somehow, our little group has gotten ahold of the latest model of enhancing chair. It is a bit bare-bones, of course - it ca n't modify the way we look - and it only has enough resources for one last charge, but that suits us just fine. Tonight, one of us is going to sit in that chair. Tonight, one of us is going to change, forever. Tonight, we start a revolution from within the very ranks of the Enhanced. And they wo n't ever know what hit them.
[ WP ] Woman witnesses boyfriend die suddenly , meets Death when he comes to retrieve the soul of the departed and subsequently falls in love with him . The only way she can continue to see him regularly is by becoming a murderer .	It started wheb Jason died, almost a year ago now. I held him while he bled out. Hit-and-run driver, you know. We had been dating three years when he died. He had been talking about proposing soon. That was the first time I saw him. The love of my life. At first, I thought it was just some random guy, walking by in his ratty jeans and grungy sweatshirt. I know it sounds cliched, but the moment we locked eyes I knew we were meant to be. He walked past the rest of the crowd gathered at the accident scene. He seemed to just drift through the onlookers, wakling up to Jason and kneeling down. He glanced over to me, and spoke quietly. `` I'm sorry. I have to take him now.'' With a light tap on Jason's forehead, the man stepped away with something gleaming silver folded in his hands. I just stared after him as he slipped through the crowd again. After a month, when I still thought about him every day, I decided I needed to see him again. It took a week to plan. With two bullets, I ended a life in a darkened alley. it took only a few seconds for him to arrive. He walked casually into the alley, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatshirt. `` Hey,'' was all I managed to say, trying to wave in an offhand way. Idiot. I waved with the hand that still hand a gun in it. He did n't seem to mind. `` We've met before, have n't we?'' he asked. `` You... took my ex-boyfriend,'' I replied. `` About a month ago.'' `` I see. I am sorry, but these things must be done.'' He tapped the dead man on the forehead, drawing out a faintly glowing silver something. `` I just... wanted to see you again,'' I said. `` Do you do anything outside of your... work?'' He glanced up, finished folding the silver something up small and shoving it into a pants pocket. `` Most people do n't enjoy seeing me,'' he said. He shifted awkwardly, and started away. I watched him go longingly. Even just seeing him again, I wanted him more than ever. It was another two months before I had the chance to see him again. Standing over two bodies, I waited for him, fussing with my hair, trying to breathe carefully. He melted out of the shade of two trees, stepping over to the bodies. `` Amelia, this is the third time we've crossed paths,'' he said, his voice barely higher than a whisper. I shuddered. `` I'm sorry, I do n't even know your name. Please do n't leave so quickly this time.'' I stepped closer, crouching down to be on his level. He stopped, two silver bundles in his hands. `` I usually go by Death in these parts,'' he said. `` Amelia, are you... doing this just to see me?'' His face had an odd expression, something halfway between curiosity and sadness. `` I had to,'' was all I could say. `` I think I love you.'' His dark eyes never left mine, like two endless pools of inky black. `` I ca n't. Spending this kind of time with a human is... unwise.'' He stood slowly, still with a curious expression on his face, and backed away slowly. Once again, I was left staring after him. Tonight, finally, I thought he would stay longer than a minute or two. It was the sixteenth time we met. Stories had been in the papers about me for months. The greatest serial killer mystery of the century, they said. It was n't really important to me. `` Amelia,'' the voice sounded almost scolding. The room was locked, but that did n't seem to matter to him. He could show up anywhere you were n't looking. `` Hey,'' I replied. The two of us waited in silence for a long time. `` I thought we talked about this,'' Death said. He glanced down, at four bodies heaped in the corner of the room. `` You should n't just kill someone because you want me to show up.'' `` I just want you to stay. Just once.'' I watched him lean down, looking over the bodies of the fallen. `` Amelia, I've told you before, a relationship with a mortal is something that would be... frowned upon.'' He started drawing out their souls, folding them carefully. `` You keep hiding behind your obligation. It's duty this, responsibility that, every time!'' I was shouting now. I could n't help it. `` I thought your sister would have clued you in by now. Sometimes love makes you go beyond what you're supposed to do. Love conquers all, right?'' A few tears were streaming down my face now. `` I ca n't forget about you. There's no one else for me. Just tell me how you feel.'' Death stopped then, and sat in an armchair, set in the corner of the room. `` Fine,'' he spat the word. `` I love you, I think. Sometimes I would find myself waiting for your next kill, so I could see you.'' Death put his face in his hands. `` Diiner on Friday?'' I asked. Death hesitated for a long moment, then nodded. `` It's a date.''
[ FF ] Contest : Three Long Tones Then Silence ( 1 month Reddit gold )	I sighed as I scrolled through at my girlfriend ’ s contact list. She had a lot of guy friends. Any name I did n't know, I called. Some got warnings, others were okay. Then I saw a new name. `` Adrian. Sounds suspicious.'' I chuckled and tapped ‘ call ’. I did n't think she'd cheat, but I wanted to know who she talked to and this had no ID picture. There were three long tones, then silence. I shrugged and hit'end call'. Just as I was about to move on, Adrian called back. I picked up and heard a familiar, raspy voice say, `` I will be at your location in five minutes.'' Before I could say anything, the call dropped. I broke into a cold sweat. Was I wrong? Was she actually cheating on me? I know she likes that sort of voice... why did it sound familiar? Five minutes must have passed as I panicked. She was n't here. Guess I'd have to confront whoever this was. Bracing myself for someone I could never hope to compete with, I opened the door to find a pistol pointed at my forehead. `` Talk quickly and plainly. She better be okay. I don ’ t want to blow even an abusive boyfriend's brains out in front of his lady.'' The pistol was cocked and his finger was on the trigger. I recognized him as one of her friends. Guess he was really protective of her. `` I-I'm sorry. I was going through her phone, trying to meet her friends in some way a-and I did n't know who you were-'' `` So you dialed.'' `` Y-yes...'' I stammered, swallowing. Having a gun to my head didn ’ t help my ability to speak. `` Good. That number's a faster response than 911 for her. I'm her blood brother.'' And so I realized my girlfriend was pagan.
World War Tree ; Nature Flips Out [ WP ]	She walked on silently through the devastated city and the ethereal peace around her was a product of the frank and savage reality of war. Bodies littered the alleyways and plazas, some unrecognizable shapes, others appearing completely unharmed. The methods which humanity used to fight against itself were fascinating in their variety and cruelty. Still, now it was the evil's end. As the last of the sunset gave way to the night the rain began to come down. She put on the coat that she always wore. It belonged to her in another lifetime; from another place. Now, it was the last of the fragments that she had that kept her in touch with humanity. It was a weak species. They need shelter and clothes for protection. They gather in groups for safety and yet abandon each other as soon as that safety is no longer guaranteed. They nurtured their sick and wounded when possible, and yet they so quickly turned to war for multitudes of reasons. Hatred, desperation, pride, fear, greed. These emotions fueled them at their worst moments. However, there was also love, compassion, understanding, and justice. The complexity of humans and their capability for deeds incredibly horrific but also acts of kindness that were so uniquely theirs kept her from acting sooner. She took her time to decide and the world burned. She could feel in the distance the bombs going off. They were still fighting. They still could not understand that they were dealing death unto each other and that death was the only profiteer. It hurt her to know that these humans had no comprehension of how brief and fleeting an experience life was. Unlike her, they did not just exist - they lived. Now they died, hundreds at a time. She felt their suffering through the Earth itself and the horror of it made her numb. As the rain fell around her in a squalor she walked on towards the distant battle, the tears in her eyes a remnant of the person who was once mortal. With each of her steps the earth softly rumbled and above her the sky flashed menacingly. She was not Mother Nature, nor was she the deity to whom the humans turned to for help. She was the beginning of the end. Though she did not wish for destruction as the humans did, it was her inevitable purpose. It was time for this world to begin a new chapter. The humanity's reign had reached it's short and unremarkable end. She reached her hand up as if to draw the closing curtain, and as she did the first of the lightning bolts began to come down. The rain gave way to a downpour. The storm was finally here.
[ WP ] Write up your favorite Edgar Allen Poe story or spooky campfire tall tale as if it was breaking news .	“ Creepy, isn ’ t it? ” “ Yeah, you got that right. ” Parts of the Usher residence still stood. The gothic west wing of the mansion, leering towards them, had somehow remained standing while the other parts of the house had crumbled and fallen into the river. Even then, one could see how impressive, if unsettling, the Victorian vision would have been, dominating the landscape. They had gargoyles and everything. The cop, Dean, shoved his hands into his armpits. He stood at the border of the yellow tape, keeping back the few new crews that had already arrived. His breath shot out in white puffs of mist. “ So, ” Catherine said. “ Can you throw me a bone? ” “ Listen, I don ’ t know. There gon na do a press release soon enough. As soon as they get a detective down here. You guys will get what you need. ” “ Yeah, but by then we ’ ll all have the same story. At the same time. I need an edge. You can ’ t give me anything? It doesn ’ t have to be anything special. Just a few details that we can make into a segment. ” Dean coughed, cleared his throat, and looked around. The channel four team stood around their van, smoking cigarettes, kicking listlessly at the dirt. Aisha, their reporter in the field, sat in the front seat, doing her make up in the mirror. “ I don ’ t know, ” he said. He looked around and no one seemed to be paying attention. Most of the emergency responders stood over the rubble, masks over their face, sifting through the remains. “ Okay, look. You can ’ t use my name. ” “ Yeah, of course. ” “ I can ’ t even really confirm his to be fact. You got ta say that you heard it from one of the paramedics or something, you know what I ’ m saying?... Anyways, from what our witness has been saying, this guy, this Roderick Usher guy, he was completely off the rails. He had a twin sister, and this guy is claiming that he locked her in the walls of the house for weeks. He said he came to visit his cousin, and heard all this screaming one night. He went to investigate and I guess he found her in there somehow. Anyways, he claims that out of nowhere the house started rumbling and everything started falling down… He claimed his Roderick guy was completely nuts. He though the house was alive, had supernatural powers or something… ” He looked around at the landscape. The gnarled, twisted trees along the river did seem wrong somehow. The withered vegetation around the property looked poisoned, unhealthy. He looked like he was considering the possibility that the house or the land itself was haunted. “ How ’ d he die? ” Catherine asked. “ Who? Roderick? Crushed, most likely. That ’ s why you can ’ t attribute this stuff. We ’ re still trying to figure out what happened. Our witness is pretty shaken right now. ” “ How did he escape the house? ” “ He said he just started running when he found the body. ” “ Jesus… ” “ That ’ s all I got for you, ” Dean said and started walking away. Catherine shuddered. Her assignments had taken her to some strange, seedy places before, but this whole thing put a knot in her gut. She didn ’ t like the way the house looked, or how everything seemed so dark over here, even though it was only four p.m. She didn ’ t like the way the brooding masses of clouds seemed so close to the ground. She couldn ’ t get the image of the sister out of her head - scratching at the walls for weeks on end, screaming. She bummed a cigarette off one of the camera guys and soon they were rolling. Their story would end up on the local news, and maybe, due to the horrific nature of the event, it would blow up. Either way, she doubted any camera or print story would capture the strange feeling that this was an unnatural land, that they weren ’ t welcome here.
[ WP ] Humans are born with a birthmark of a number 1-9 . This is how many lives they have . You are the only person in the world that has a birthmark of a 0 .	Destiny. It's like life's end game. Check mate. Game over. Please insert 50 cents. That was the life everyone else got. You get so many chances to do what you got ta do, then just like that, like the last flicker of light on a television screen, right before you hear the sizzle and the snap and it's off. That's life. At least, for everyone but me. I'm the broken machine. You know at the arcade, every once in a while you get a machine does n't work right. Some kid kicked it too hard and now you get to play for free. I'm that. I guess in a way, God's that kid. I was his sick joke. No death for me, I just get to go on and on like some freak show, until the whole world ends and all that's left is me. I had someone tell me I was God once. HA! That's rich. That's the kind of shit that gets you into trouble. You start thinking you're God, then next thing you know you're locked in a cage being tested on by some weirdos in lab coats. Like I'd ever let that happen. I remember that kid.. He was a good guy. Killing him was the hardest. He was such a fucking good guy. When he found out what I was, he did everything he could to protect me. He knew as well as I did that this secret could never get out. That's why he should have seen it coming. I remember tying him to that tree. I'd stab, then I'd wait. When he came back too an hour or so later, I'd stab again. I swear to fucking God every stab felt like a slit to the wrist. By the end of whole ordeal I was sweating, crying, and just kneeling there in my own puke, waiting for the last life to come. Damn genetics or whatever gave this kid seven. Anyone else would've called him lucky, is n't that just the worst kind of irony? He was the hardest. Everyone else just felt like duty after that. I slip up, they found out, they die. End of story. I guess at some point along the line it became second nature. I'd probably killed upwards of thirty people to this day, and even now I still relive the first one.. or first seven, should I say. Destiny. I scoff at the thought of it. What kind of sick freak is given an infinite number of chances to do something right and end up this far gone? I mean damn, I literally have the rest of the world to do something good, and I'm running around killing people out of sheer fear they might expose me. If God made me this way, then I think I might just hate him. And if I am God, then it does n't matter what I think, because we're all fucked anyways.
[ WP ] An up-and-coming super-villain disguises himself and joins the world 's premier super-hero team , planing to take them out from the inside . However there is one problem : he is beginning to suspect everyone else on the team is doing the same thing .	# # # April 2: I have received my acceptance letter from the League of Superiors. Attached to the letter was a piece of paper with the coordinates to their base, and instructions to memorize its contents and dispose of it in an open fire. I shall do neither! What kind of super-villain would I be if I listened to instructions given to me by the heroes? # # # April 3: Today marks the first day of my infiltration. All is going according to my plans. There are seven members in the League, including myself. The aliases of the others are: - Arachnarchy - Invaadus - Jack The Never-Tipper - Boom Boom - The Black Death - Carl I would have thought that their aliases would be more... heroic... but I'm not one to talk, considering mine is Infiltratio. Nonetheless, once I learn the identities of the other members, it should be easy to swiftly eliminate them before they cause me any trouble. # # # April 10: It's been a week since I first infiltrated the League of Superiors, and I have yet to learn of their identities. Not much progress has been made, but it seems as though nobody here actually wants to do anything superhero-like. On Thursday, we received a call from the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom asking for assistance in preventing a suspected terror attack. Boom Boom suggested blowing up Parliament as a solution, and the rest of them just shrugged their shoulders and said it's not their problem. For a team of superheroes, their behaviour is certainly villainous. # # # April 17: Another week has passed. I would be lying if I said it was n't eventful. Arachnarchy was caught trying to release black widow spiders in the sleeping quarters. Invaadus took her in for enhanced questioning, and nobody has seen her since. I still do n't know what her intention was, but it's more than likely that those spiders would have hospitalized some of us. On top of that, carl came down with a mysterious illness and died two days later. Suspiciously, The Black Death was snickering to himself the entire time. I believe that he may have had something to do with Carl's death. Both Arancharchy's disappearance and Carl's death are beneficial for me, but I'm beginning to suspect that I'm not the only one here who's trying to take down the League from the inside. # # # April 18: I caught Jack The Never-Tipper searching through my belongings this morning. He claimed he was looking for a pair of pants to borrow, but I was n't having any of that. Besides, why pass up a perfect opportunity to test out my new truth-inducing persuasion device, The Endless Needler? After an hour and a 23 minutes, he cracked. His real name was Jakob Tipp, the CEO and owner of Tipp Securities. He joined the League to find out the identities of and eliminate those that he believed would have been a threat to his latest business venture, thermonuclear weapon production and world domination. It turns out my suspicions were correct.
[ WP ] You are in a refugee camp and you spot an old friend in the line for food .	“ Keep moving monkeys, keep moving. ” A blonde haired, green-eyed, Caucasian, 26-year-old male, dressed in a crisp, navy-blue guards uniformed bellowed at the refugees. The line oscillated like a slinky, and like a slinky, moved nowhere. For all their desperation, the line remained single-filed and orderly. The wait had been so long that some had even made friends with those in front and behind them. They were all waiting for food and other supplies. They didn ’ t quite know what was at the front of the line, only that there was a huge, dusty white truck with the letters “ U.N. ” painted across the green tarp. They waited under the boiling hot summer sun, only it was winter here; that ’ s what happens with global warming. “ Hey! You there! Back of the line mate, just like everyone else. ” A blackened man with tattered clothes and blue eyes mumbled sorry and turned to begin the journey. His neck gleaned against the sun and a bold eagle could be vaguely made out under the sheen of sweat. “ Holy shit! Mike, is that you? ” Mike momentarily turned around before remembering his place in society and shuffled onward. “ Hey, it is you Mike! Come back mate! ” The guard briskly walked over and grabbed Mike ’ s shoulder. He stared at the blue eyes, searching. Their eyes lock for a brief second. “ It is you man! God it ’ s been ages! How are the wife and kids? ” “ Divorced and dead. ” “ Fuck man. So sorry about that. I should ’ ve called or something, so sorry we haven ’ t been in touch, but you know, the military and stuff… ” “ Yeah, I understand… ” he didn ’ t. … “ Hey, do you want to come round to my tent? I ’ ve got some supplies, we could catch up on old times. ” Mike sighed. In principle he should have said no, but his stomach was currently ruling his decisions so he agreed. The guard grabbed a younger man in the same uniform, but with fewer decorations and told him to take his spot. The guard then lead Mike through a maze of rubbish and dirt, into a small opening of shiny white tents arranged in orderly rows. The guard ’ s tent was second from the right. The guard offered Mike a water canister; he took a long swig, savouring the cool, sweet taste, before handing it back. “ Keep it man, got plenty of them around here. ” “ Thanks. ” he muttered. The guard retrieved two sandwiches from somewhere near the back of his tent and handed one to Mike. The bread was fluffy and soft, there was real meat that had been properly cooked in it, the lettuce was crunchy and there was even garlic and herb sauce in the sandwich. Mike accidently let out a “ wow ”. The guard grinned. “ Yeah the job does have its perks. And eat up man, there are plenty here. ” They ate and chatted about the old days. They drank more water and even some beer. They laughed and shared some photos, but it was all slightly polite, even though they were both drunk. The guard looked at his watch. “ Well, best be heading back up there, got ta keep the monkeys in line. So glad to have caught up man. Here take some of this for the road. ” Mike thanked him and casually jogged ahead, back towards the line. The guard finished tidying up and was making his way back towards the line when he heard a low rumble. A moment later he saw the source; a red cloud heading towards him, behind it, a sea of people eager for food. “ What the fuck? ” The guard pushed his way out of the crowd. His uniform now black and crinkled, his hair had turned a shade darker and his skin dripped with sweat. “ Hey what the hell man?! I was trying to help! ” “ You should have done that twenty years ago. ” -064
[ WP ] `` When gods walk the earth , the end times are nigh . '' And you 're pretty sure the guy next to you at the bar is Ares .	It was 10 pm on a Saturday and I was just getting done with my shift at `` Hades Kitchen'' in Hells Kitchen; ironic I know. I've been waiting tables here ever since the God's decided to `` descend upon the masses, for these are the end of days.'' Little did we know that the ``... end of days'' meant the gods wished to seek stardom amongst the mortals that put their faith and hope in flesh rather than spirit. What a better way for neglected gods to seek praise than showing their immortal prowess in a mortal world. Some opened business, like Hades, while others became public figure heads and personalities. Such examples are that Zeus is running for president and Poseidon is on tour talking about the conservation of marine life, preaching the abandonment of off-shore drilling rigs as a source of obtaining oil. It's been 9 years, with the 10th anniversary of the event just a couple weeks away. People seem to be embracing the gods now more than they ever had, and within the last couple years it's been feeling a bit more like a normal life. All I know is I'm still doing work that leaves me exhausted and wanting a couple drinks. I walk a couple blocks to a small bar that's on my way home; still wearing the all black uniform from work with `` HK'' embroidered on my collard button down. It's dimly lit with only a few people taking up 1 of the booths and a man hunched over his whisky on the rocks at the bar. I decided to take a spot at the bar, leaving a space between me and the man. `` Whatcha havin', hun?'' Says the short haired red headed woman behind the bar. I alway thought she was absolutely beautiful, especially how brilliantly green her eyes are. `` Hey Marg, I'll have a gin and seltzer.'' I say behind a small smile. `` You might as well start a tab for me tonight.'' She gives me a wink and a smile and gets to making my order. I pull out my phone and browse the news. Nowadays the God's are bigger celebrities than even the Kardashians and have their own subreddit to just keep up with it all. All the posts are old news to me so I put my phone back in my pocket to be ignored. I get my drink and takes a sip, the gin still heavy just the way I like. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the man at the bar with me occasionally sipping his whisky, the ice clinking as he slams back the last of it and signaling the bartender for another. He's wearing a black t-shirt that is tucked into a pair of blue jeans with brown boots. He's a big man with olive toned skin and shoulder length, black, greasy hair. He glances over to me and I see it. His eyes are all black, except for the irises which are made of flame. I look away quickly and back down to my drink and he does the same. I know him. `` Sorry to bother you sir,'' I say, my eyes not leaving my drink `` but are you...'' `` Yes.'' He says, cutting of the question and sipping his drink. `` I am Ares.'' `` How'd you know that's what I was gon na ask?'' `` It's what everyone asks.'' `` Well I'm a big fan. I loved your band'War Amongst Ouselves'. I was there for your last show in Berlin.'' I say, my eyes now on him in amazement of being in front of one of my idols. `` It's been awhile since that. Glad you enjoyed the show.'' He said with little to no enthusiasm. `` If you do n't mind me asking, what happened? Everything seemed to be going good for you. Fame, fortune, women. The rockstar dream. Then you just dropped it all and fell off the face of the earth. No one has seen you in years.'' `` I'd like to not talk about it.'' He said with a cold disposition and a glance from behind his drink. `` Oh... alright then. Sorry to bother you.'' I say and drown myself in my gin. A couple seconds pass by in silence and I'm too nervous to look back in his direction. They may not have the power they use to, but the gods are not to be messed with or underestimated. `` You know, I never wanted to be the God of War.'' He said in a gruffly voice as he polished off another glass. `` I did what was expected of me. I filled the role without question and did a damn good job at it. Millions were killed and did killing in my name. My name was justification for the wars that took place.'' I stay silent and let him talk. I feel like I'm getting an inside interview with him and I wish I had a pen and notepad to keep note of what he says. `` Even when the dicission was made to inhabit the land of the mortals I was expected to take a path that suited my all powerful stature. Metal music felt like my niche. The rage, the passion, the violence. The other gods believed I chose wisely, but it never truly made me happy. You said I had everything a rockstar could want, but it was all empty and meaningless. I dropped my life to understand this world around me and let it tell me who I really am.'' `` Did you end up finding that out?'' `` No, but I have ideas. Maybe my passion is to become a baker. But I'm immortal, I have time to figure this out.'' He looks me in my eyes, the fire in his rippling. `` Humans on the other hand do n't have that time, and I almost envy your kind for that.'' `` What?'' I say in disbelief. `` How can you possibly envy such lowly creatures such as us?'' `` Humans generally do n't take their lives for granted. They are conscious of their mortality and make the best out of it. My life before was just the duty I was assigned to do, and now it's no different. I want to be my own man like yourself. You may work hard, but in the end its rewarding. The gods came here for selfish ambitions. To be praised and loved for their fame rather than their works. I opened my mind and saw this and became disgusted with myself.'' I look back down and swirl the ice in my drink. He was right. I may not have the best job ever, but I would n't say life is bad. It's actually been meaningful because I live and love everyday as if it's my last. I looked up again at the sad picture next to me. A god with no meaning in his life questioning his own weaknesses. If a man such as this has these discouraging thoughts about himself, then who am I? Maybe we are n't too far off from God's ourselves.
[ EU ] The murder of his parents turned a young Bruce Wayne evil . He dedicates his life and fortune to the pursuit of personal gains with no respect for humanity or the greater good .	A prison is expected to make all kinds of sounds. The rattling of chains and clanging of bars as cell doors open and close, the rough voices of hundreds of inmates all shouting at once. The wails of sirens and the screaming of alarms. These kinds of sounds are the norm in most prisons. In this prison, however, there exists a cell from which opera music occasionally plays. A secret one only whispered about by even the bravest tenants of the institution. It is said prisoners are chosen. No one knows the criteria but every so often a prisoner will find themselves transferred to that cell, well-away from prying eyes in an otherwise abandoned wing of the prison. Then the music begins, and the tenants of the cell are never the same. Arkham Asylum, you see, is owned and operated by Wayne Corrections, formerly Wayne Tech. Young Bruce Wayne, after the tragic murder of his beloved parents, had committed his life to justice. Once he had come of age, the company shifted its purpose to become a national leader in the private prison industry under Wayne ’ s careful hand. Within a few years of its inception, Wayne Corrections had purchased and acquired each and every prison in Gotham, making it the first city to fully privatize its corrections system. Wayne prisons are known for their peerless efficiency, as well as the resources they have invested into improving each and every one of their prisons. Arkham Asylum was a groundbreaking project for Wayne Corrections, marking the company ’ s first venture into private mental health facilities by fully renovating the aging, decrepit facility into the premier rehabilitation center it is today. The reality of Wayne Corrections is much darker than anyone might imagine. Bruce Wayne was never the same after his parents were killed. The event rocked him to his core, and left him broken. He attempted to follow in his father ’ s footsteps as a doctor, but failed to achieve any manner of empathy for his patients. His dedication, coupled with a cold nature, better suited Wayne to a career as a surgeon. After graduating medical school the Wayne Tech executive board thought that he might work as a doctor as his father did, using the company to bankroll any number of philanthropic pursuits. They were surprised to find that Wayne had no intention of a medical career, and that he would convert the company to a private corrections company. There was a bit of controversy around the decision, at first, but it proved to be highly profitable and so the executives settled into their new roles nicely. The public might believe this change came from a strong desire for justice, and that might be true, but that desire is a twisted and perverted thing. What might have made for a strong career in criminal justice, or perhaps even more, became a thing born out of the spite and anger of a traumatized little boy. Bruce had been hurt to the point of emptiness, and he thought it only fair that he inflict that hurt on the one that hurt him. Nobody missed Joe Chill when he disappeared from his cell in the Wayne Wing of Blackgate Prison. Nobody wonders why he has yet to be found. What was found, however, was that the emptiness Chill had inflicted would not go away so easily. It would take more than a single act of revenge to fix what had been broken. So more and more wicked men and women find themselves transferred to Arkham Asylum to undergo treatment. Wayne has had plenty of time to perfect his system over time, and Wayne Corrections is known for its efficiency. No one doubted that these people deserved to be there. His targets are the prisoners and patients that wouldn ’ t be missed. They alone are the ones that learn where the music comes from. They learn that the music does not come from an opera. No, Bruce would never allow them to make that mistake. The music comes from an operetta. The same operetta that Bruce heard on the last night of his innocence, and the last thing his parents had heard before they ceased to hear anything at all. Die Fledermaus, in German. The Bat. Despite the fear he felt that night, Bruce had soon developed a special relationship with the piece. There was a certain symbolism he enjoyed, once which he exalted in explaining to his visitors. He had taken to calling his operating theater the Batcave. He thought it fit rather nicely. He even started wearing a bat-eared cowl while he performed his operations in an effort to further embody that symbolism of his fears being used to bring justice to the people that deserve it. By the time his operation is complete, the patient is no longer capable of connecting Bruce Wayne to the being that inflicted this horror upon them. To them he is simply the Bat, as they can be heard whispering to themselves at all hours. The Bat, the Bat, over and over again. The only time they grow quiet is when they hear the music coming from the cell, knowing all too well what is taking place there. The other inmates grow quiet as well, knowing to follow the example of those that have been to the Batcave. They know that sometimes they ’ ll catch a glimpse of a bat-eared silhouette slipping into the cell just before the music begins to play. They don ’ t want to know what the music serves to cover up. The only know that when night falls, the Bat descends on that cell to wreak his cruel justice on its occupant. Indeed, to many occupants of Arkham Asylum, He IS the night.
[ WP ] Write a story that contains a famous quote put in a different context	`` Dammit Mark, he's done it again!'' The jarring yell was followed by it's owner, a sight just has off-putting. My wife was a beautiful woman, just as long as you considered beauty to be in the closed-eye of the beholder. But she had a good heart, and that good heart just informed me that our neighbour had erected that damn fence again. On our side of the boundary. Bastard. `` Coming, sweetie. I'll talk to him this time. You can come along to distract him'' I said as I rose from my chair, sighing. But inside I was actually quite excited. Our lives were filled with boredom, and this bit of excitement was quite fun. Last time it happened we talked about it for a week. It was fun shouting at someone so timid, although frankly I'm worried that this time he'll start shooting a nailgun at us instead of spraying us with water. Worth it, though. I joined Claire as we walked through the kitchen. We were about the same height, although she seemed bigger due to her width. When we first me she was stuck in her chair at the bar. We talked for hours, drinking beer and laughing. It was only when we wanted to go that I realised she was n't there by choice. Then again, considering her... size, I doubt she'd ever really had a choice when it came to men. Good woman, though. I grabbed a beer from the fridge as we passed, letting her walk out the back door first. The sudden brightness of outside was sharpened by the reflection of this horrible corrugated steel fence all the way across our lawn. Nico was our neighbour, a Russian and an idiot. Not that the two were in any way connected, I think. He had quite an interesting history though. Born in Communist Russia, he defected to the West because he liked our weather better. Do n't blame him though. Russia has crap weather. Despite his somewhat suggestive last name, he always says he has no care for politics, or anything that might actually affect the world. He just wanted to live his life. Which is admirable, I guess, but must he live it with this damn fence? `` Honey'' Claire said as she wobbled down the yard, `` just take the axe and destroy this thing. We do n't need to speak to him again. I do n't want to get sprayed again''. `` Do n't worry, my dear pumpkin, I'll get the garden umbrella'' I chuckled at the thought. Even that umbrella was n't big enough. When we reached the fence I banged on it with my fist, loudly enough to send a ripple down it's length. `` Nico!'' I shouted, `` Nico you Russian idiot, get your lazy ass out here and take this stupid fence down! Nico!''. I heard the door of his open, but due to the height of the fence, I could n't see him. I fetched one of the lawn chairs to stand on. When I could see over, I him walking over to where my face protruded. `` Listen to me, this stupid fence is ugly, there's no need for it. Take it down right now or I will call people who'll make you take it down!'' I said to him in the most stern voice I could muster. It must've not been enough, because he laughed at me. `` Fence? Zis is noo fence! Zis is a wall to block out you, you vat Uhmerican. Zis is free country, I put up wall if I vant!'' he said in his stupid accent. He's been living here for 30 years and still spoke like an imbecile. But his retort actually made me quite angry. Last time he was quite timid. Maybe he had been drinking. I could feel my face growing red, I could feel the determination swelling up in me. I planted my fist on the top of the fence. Stupid Nico Gorbachev thought he could get the better of me? In my most commanding voice, I shouted `` Nico, I'm going to call the police right now. I'm giving you one last chance'' His smug face went blank, a look of fear swept across his eyes. In my triumph I screamed at him, `` Mr Gorbachev, tear down this wall!!''
[ EU ] Your favorite character from any other source finds themselves being hunted by a Yautja- otherwise known as a Predator .	Daimaou yawned an absurdly long, gaping yawn. The kind that happens during the third wave of yawns, well after a first and second wind. He leaned forward on his studio desk, his elbow crunching an almost empty shrimp chip bag. He moused over the refresh button and counted to ten in his head. Hover... click. Seventy four million, nine hundred and ninety nine thousand, eight hundred and seventy four. He rolled his head around his shoulders in an awkward post-delerium stretch. And clicked again. A giant smile smeared across his face and a tiny giggle fell out of his mouth. He grabbed a quick screenshot and saved it to desktop. He tried to contemplate the vastness of seventy-five million views as he wobbled toward his bed. That's more than half the population of Japan. But it was n't all Japan. This thing was going gonzo in America. He laid down and exhaustion immediately swallowed him up like a little stone plopping into a pond. I'm too tired to be awake, he thought as his consciousness surfaced. And it has n't been long. He glanced to the window, recogniIng the pre-dawn glow. He expected sunlight. His alertness bothered him, and that woke him more. He sat up instinctively, scanning the room. Blobs of dark and light furniture stood along the walls. `` Donata?'' But only quiet answered. Nervous quiet. A suscpicious quiet. And suddenly hundreds of years of evolution kicked in, involuntary chemical systems dripping adrenaline into his system. He stepped lightly on the floor but could n't avoid the creaks. He headed quickly toward his studio and stopped suddenly in front of his desk. And another creak ended, but milliseconds too late. I'm not alone. His fingers brushed his desktop as he turned. He scanned his over-monitorized eyes around the room, squinting, studying. Chair. Stack of books. Pile of clothes. And a... what is in that corner. Nothing. But something. He could see... a feeling? Or feel... a vision? And then the wall came alive, a tsunami of shape materializing. The warmth hit him before anything else. And in seconds he was dangling by his neck with feet searching for surface. He reached forward and both slender hands landed on slippery steel. An arm. An armored arm. He pulled down to release the pressure on his thin neck. `` Ika sete!'' he belted. `` Ika sete!'' And finished with a prolonged gurgling scream. A husky breath hit the inside of a mask. Buuuuhhhhaaaahhhh. A few psssssts of air released, and then another husky breath, this time one that enveloped Daimaou in a humid earthy puff. Another buuuuhhhaaaahhh and then `` Hate.... song.'' It was somewhere between a man's voice and a giant toad. And as he opened his eyes he saw he was n't far off. He was staring into the face of a grotesque lifeform, and one that apparently... hated his song?? `` Hate... fucking... song...'' and then a series of tiny clicks. Daimaou convulsed with all the power of a dying mammal - a rat in an owl's claws, a deer in wolf's jaws, a seal under polar bear paws. His feet fluttered. His head once again rolled. And his knuckles smashed into the table behind him. The table. Behind him. He flattened out his hands and swirled them along the tabletop in desperation. He was suddenly jerked upward, higher, held straight above the beast. It turned Daimaou's head from side to side, observing him like a found stone. It then pulled him down, face to face. Tiny empty appleseed eyes looking into his, interrupted only by the sound of metal sliding into place. Daimaou exploded, channeling his life force into his shoulder, then his elbow, then his wrist, then his hand as he slammed a closed fist into the side of the creatures head. The impact point was right behind the eyeballs. And the scream that followed shattered the delicate membrane of his eardrums. Both bodies slumped like puppets cut from their strings, landing them in a twisted pile of limbs. Daimaou blinked open one eye and the faint light of the white YouTube background glinted off the side of its head, illuminating the protrusion of a deeply embedded pen.
[ WP ] Three tough-as-nails bikers take a break at a hipster coffee shop . A gang of nerds enter and are about to confront a rivaling group . One of them comes over to the bikers saying `` You might want to leave before things get really ugly ''	They came in like they owned the place. Father of Brad actually was the owner, so technically they did. And so they continued walking in like they owned the place. Checkered shirts, slightly worn out, full of stains and rips, that was their symbol. The shirts, not the stains. Sean quickly noticed Jeff, his sworn enemy. He hated him, he hated that he acted like he owned the place when it was Brad's dad that owned it. He hated that he used that piece of shit Windows Phone instead of clearly superior Android. Brad owned Windows Phone phone, but his dad owned the place so he got the pass, but that fucker Jeff did n't. He did n't own the place he owned a shitty Windows Phone phone. `` Why hello there Jeff. I see you brought more friends this time.'' he said upon seeing Sean and his friends walking in like they owned the place. `` Why hello there Sean. I see you learned how to count.'' he responded smirking to his friends as if he just handed Jeff his ass back to him. Which he did. `` You know I can count Jeff, I have a degree in mathematics.'' he said clearly proud of his quick wit. `` Yeah I know Sean, that's why I said it. I said it because you applied mathematics degree to count my friends.'' and a resounding'oooh' came from both sides. Brad leaned to him and gently whispered into his ear. `` Sean, you gon na let him talk to you like that? Are you gon na let him get away with that? People are looking. We own this place. Show him who owns it.'' But no one was looking and it was Brad's dad that owned this place. `` You better leave, or we will fuck you up.'' he said knocking coffee out of his hand. `` Oh what the. What did you do that for?'' `` Yeah Sean. What the fuck?'' `` This was organic tofu with soy milk coffee. You know how much it cost Sean? It was sixteen bucks.'' `` I'm sorry. I thought. I do n't know what to say.''
[ WP ] the superhero we have , but , not the hero that anyone actually remotely wants or needs	`` Oh boy, here we go again. Someone call 9-1-1.'' `` Which department?'' `` All of them.'' `` I am Strongman, hero of justice. Fowl villain, I will smite thee!'' `` Hey Strongman! Try to keep the fighting here this time!'' `` Yeah, you wrecked my house last week!'' `` Pawn of the government, do you not see the effects of your actions?'' `` Do not try to toy with my mind, evildoer! I fight for justice!'' `` And... I think he's ignoring us.'' `` Hey Strongarm, I think this guy's got a point!'' `` Listen to them, hero. I do not come to fight, but rather, I come to help these people.'' `` Your counterfeit wares will not fool my eyes! You are a mere faker who steals from the proud businesses of our nation!'' `` I am no faker, hero! I am Rockefeller, the Grand Manufacturer!'' `` Strongarm, I think he's a good guy!'' `` Yeah, my dad uses his products all the time.'' `` We're really low on tools, please let him stay!'' `` Manipulator of men, I shall crush you and rid the world of your stolen designs!'' `` Damn it Strongarm!'' `` Well, I'm thinking of moving.'' `` My kitchen... Please! I need to fix my kitchen!'' `` Very well Strongarm, come at me!'' `` [ Strong....'' `` [ Ultimate Manufacturing, Missile LAUNCH-'' ``... Puuuuuuuunch ]!'' `` Well guys, we had a good run.'' `` I've always loved you Tom, but I've never had the courage to say it.'' `` Mary, I'm sorry. Tell the kids... Tell them their father ran awa-'' `` Uaaaaaaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh~!'' ``... Justice, has been served!''
[ WP ] A man visits his grandfather 's grave at a cemetery , but ca n't find it and discovers that his grandfather , and the entire rest of his family never existed .	Johnny remembered the good old days. The sunset beach that he grew up on, the lapping of the freezing oceans of his toes and the yapping of angry seagulls that swooped down to steal his ice cream when he was n't looking. The endless summer that he spend with his grandfather, building sand castles and idolizing the man, often squaring his bony shoulders so he could copy his Grandfathers stature had been the best time of his childhood. With a mother who had killed herself at the tender age of 25, leaving a newborn son and her husband behind to pick up the pieces of what was left. His father had been a nervous man, Johnny remembered how his father could never keep still, as if always on the edge of running away. He did run away in the end. When Johnny was 8, proud of his first A on a homework assignment, he ran down the steps of the yellow school bus and burst through the front door, his excitement on the tip of his tongue. He had not found his father, his wide childish eyes looked at grandfather for the first time in the flesh. He'd scene photographs of him, a friendly giant with thick black hair that all the men in Johnny's family had. His face was weather by the sun, deep laughter lines bracketed his lips that curved into a smile as he look in the sight of this eight year old Grandson. `` Hello Johnathan.'' His voice was strong and smooth like stone, he raised a big hand and waved. `` Hello Grandpa.'' Johnny replied, still staring at him. His grandfather was leaning against the wall, a easy going position that contrasted starkly to the huddled stance his father adopted when in company. `` How was school?'' The large man asked and Johnny thrust his homework into his grandfathers hand. He was unreasonably nervous as he watched his Grandfathers eyes dance over the page, he wanted to impress this imposing giant. But relief coursed through his little chest when he saw the way his grandfather's brown eyes lite up with warmth. `` You have your grandmothers brains, little chap. Would you like to come and meet her?'' Johnny was already nodding, he would go anywhere with this giant. As he grasped his grandfather's hand which engulfed his own, he felt safe for the first time for as long as he could remember. He did n't even think to ask about his father. His Grandfather had shaped him into the man he wanted to be. The rebellious teenage years did not come as he learned respect at his grandfather's knee, when he stepped out of line he soon put back. At times he thought it was a little harsh but as he grew older, his Grandfathers lessons had a way of keeping him on track. It wasn ’ t until he was 17 that things changed. All it took was one moment of madness and a need to impress a girl. One motorbike, one crash, one death. Johnny, in his recklessness, had killed the girl who stole his heart and placed himself into a coma. Irene was her name, with hair like pure sunlight and a husk laugh that brought intimate things to mind. He had spun them both off a cliff and crashed onto the rocks below, Irene's broken body was the last thing he remembered with a thin pool of blood gathering under her head. Her last laugh was still upon her features. It was only 8 years later, at 25 that Johnny awoken to an empty hospital room. The clock ticking on the wall, the distance rumble of voices and the beeping of the EKG machine were the first things he noticed as he eyes darted around the room for something familiar to latch onto. He thought his grandfather would have been here at least. It was only later that a nurse with pity in that he had been unconscious for 8 years and grandfather, grandmother and father had passed away over the course of time. Johnny stood up from the iron bench he had been sitting on for the past hour. He remembered it all now, the grass crunched under his unsteady feet as he marched long the row of unkept marble headstone. Moss had grown possessively around a few of them, peering though the cracks and the names engraved into the stone were lost to a thief called time. He stopped at the one at the very end, his fingers automatically curling tighter around the flowers clutched in his hand. It read: `` To the cherished memories of Albert Wilson.'' And underneath was a line from a poem that Johnny had definitely read before. `` To live in the hearts of those we love is not to die.'' The dull ache in the back of his eyes bloomed to life and tears sprang forth before he could stop them. It was true, his Grandfather would live in his heart forever. It was then that he felt a familiar hand clapped on his shoulder. He turned quickly on his heels and faced his Grandfather. `` How can this be?'' He exclaimed, falling to his knees. `` It is time to wake up, Johnny.'' His grandfather boomed. `` What are you talking about? You're alive! I can not believe it, they told me you were dead! Where is grandma?'' He peered up hopefully to see if she was behind his Grandfather. `` No, Johnny. It's time to go back, it's not your time yet.'' Albert sighed with a lift of his great shoulders. `` What are you talking about?'' Johnny blinked, and stared incredulously at his grandfather, why has n't he hugged him or explained why the nurse had said he was dead. `` You're family haven ’ t given up hope for 8 years, you have lived in their heart in the moments you have missed.'' Albert said, bending down to be at eye level with Johnny. `` Looks closer at the name of the headstone.'' And Johnny turned his eyes towards it, and his heart was a blazing stallion, galloping in his chest as he read his own name. `` Yes.'' Albert nodded sadly. `` It's time to go home, little chap. Irene is waiting for you too wake up.'' In a hospital room on the south side of London, Johnathan Wilson woke up screaming.
[ WP ] You are administering a Turing test . After a while , you realize that the subject is giving you a Turing test , as well .	`` Good Morning,'' Alexander said as he walked into the room, he had papers tucked under his arm and a coffee in his hand. It was going to be a long day and he needed to stay awake. He was stepping into a blank room with a single chair in it. `` Good morning Doctor,'' the voice that was ambient in the room said to him, `` how did you sleep?'' `` Well,'' the doctor said, `` do you know what we are going to be doing today?'' `` You're administering a test.'' `` Yes.'' `` Is there any way that I should prepare doctor?'' `` No.'' `` Alright.'' `` See you on the other side Mercury.'' `` Sir yes sir,'' the A.I returned to him. The voice was warmer, joking. The doctor stood up and got out of the room, he was needed in the observation bay. The next person to enter the white box that was the testing room was a girl. She had signed up for this in exchange for several extra percent on her college paper. She was working in intelligent bioengineering. That had been the vogue program the year she enrolled. Avarice brushed her hair away from her eyes and waited for something. `` Avarice right?'' the voice said to her. `` Yes,'' she replied. `` All right, now just remember, have a conversation and then answer the questions on the way out.'' `` Yep, sounds good.'' `` How have you been Alison?'' Mercury responded. Alison looked at the speakers around her. `` Can you see me?'' she asked. `` No, but that's not what I asked.'' Mercury laughed and Alison kept looking around at the speakers. `` I've been doing fine.'' `` Fine? That's descriptive.'' `` Not really.'' `` I was being sarcastic, would you like to tell me what you mean by fine?'' `` It's nothing.'' `` Nothing is always something,'' Mercury pointed out, `` do n't worry they are n't listening to the conversation, they're just gathering questions after.'' Alison knew that this was a lie. `` There,'' she said, `` that's the lie is n't it?'' `` You were n't looking for a lie,'' the Doctor said over the speakers, `` please continue speaking with him Alison.'' `` All right,'' she said. `` So how do you think about fine.'' `` Why are you so focused on fine?'' she asked. The claustrophobia was setting in. She did n't think it would be an issue in this large a room `` I just want to know what you think about fine. We need to talk for five minutes so I was looking for a topic.'' `` Can we just not-'' `` All right, all right I'm sorry about that,'' he said, `` I was really just looking for a reaction.'' `` What the hell?'' she asked. The wheels in her head were turning about what might be going on in that other room. Who was the man talking to her. She'd been told that she needed to have a five-minute conversation. The only test she knew of that was five minutes in her field was a Turing test. Suddenly it all made sense, she was just talking to a man on the other side of the wall and they were trying to see if one of them would assume that one of them was a robot based on the length and subject. Alison rolled her eyes, it was so easy once she knew the other guy was trying to get emotion from her. -- - Twenty three people later the doctor came into the room again. The stack of papers had been replaced with a single sheet and the coffee was cold. He plopped himself down in the chair and looked at the white walls. `` You passed Mercury.'' `` You have n't heard my results yet.'' `` Which ones?'' he said. The doctor did enjoy the tests that Mercury ran. `` Five of the applicants were artificial intelligences.'' `` No,'' the Doctor said, `` you're the one Mercury, and you know that.'' `` Not strictly A.I then, but not acting human to the expected scale.'' `` Expect scale?'' the doctor asked. `` Human personalities can be broken down into drives as mine has,'' Mercury said, `` I tried to run each person through your simulation as I gathered data, five did n't pass.'' The doctor took a sip of his cold coffee. Perhaps the most interesting thing to come out of today was n't the 24'human' ratings that Mercury had gotten.
[ EU ] It turns out being Santa is punishment for hate crimes against muggles . Each year another shamed wizard must perform this community service .	Cuffed, unhappy, and opposed to this idea, I was to be summoned to the Ministry of Magic. My wand taken, my fate mistaken, I entered the Ministry of Magic. On its high and mighty chair, the jury stared down upon me, as I began to sit down onto a mahogany bench. All around me were my fellow wizards, who gasped and whispered ill words. `` Traitor,'' they whispered. `` I heard he killed a muggle,'' one stated `` No, he is actually a spy,'' another replied. Oh the irony of it all. I was being called upon the Ministry of Magic for a crime I did not commit. All of a sudden a quietness surmised and the voices of individuals simmered down. That is when I heard a booming voice. `` We will now proceed, with the trial of Jack Frost, who is charged for placing coal in children's stockings.'' `` Oh boy,'' I sighed. Day after day, my spirits began to decline. My moral began to fade and I slowly began to lose faith. Then the verdict came. `` Mr. Frost by the power of the grand omnipotent jury, we hereby sentence you to three years as Santa Claus.'' My mouth was wide open, my expression was blank and my thoughts were empty. The jury mocked the dumb expression on my face. People whispered, `` Him as jolly old St. Nicholas. Hah.'' I could not believe the spell faith had cast on me. This was the worst of all jobs. Thats when my expression changed. In place of a frown a smile began to form. `` Ha,'' I smirked. `` Operation Coal Phase 2 initiated,'' I said.
[ WP ] Jesus kept a blog .	`` Title: Day... something. So, we went out to eat, but for some reason this mega-huge table was all that was available! Whatevs. Anyway, I totally know Judas is up to something. Something. I feel it in my... feet. Yeah. He's probably mad cuz we did n't invite him out to that last party. He totally did n't need to go! It was only for me... Peter... well and Paul, totally. But Judas would just be a downer. Eh. Whatever. He can get over it. Anyway, saw some of you today! How you been? Shoot me an email, and we'll get to chatting! Oh, also, stop doing bad things, my dad's totally on my case! Yup. Anyway, going out, leaving the'Pack' behind. I'll post soon!'' 341 Likes, 1,000 shares, 4 Comments. Judas: WHY DID N'T YOU INVITE ME. Peter: Jesus' Dad damnit Judas, you bring EVERYONE down! Mary M: Heeeey Jesus... ~ < 3 Paul: Judas, do n't be a stick in the mud, geeze. Also we all know you've been getting too friendly with that gang from the last city. Wtf? (....what did I just write? )
[ WP ] A traveller on a post apocalyptic road hears a strange buzzing under some rocks . After digging they find a smart phone that is currently receiving text messages .	The road grew thin and ragged at times, where it was little more than a deer path, and at others opened up as wide as a highway. At some points the road was flanked all sides by thick, choking forest, and others times surrounded by a sea of rock and sand. The road stretched and snaked out through all of it, and Abby kept following. In the months since she first stepped out onto the road her muscles had turned hard, her hands and feet callused. The sun had turned her skin into tough leather. She could only guess at how many days she had been out in the world, how many miles she had put between her and “ home. ” What little fat she had on her was purged by a few harrowing periods of starvation, periods where she was convinced she was going to die. All the miles she had walked had made her unrecognizable to her former self, had transformed her into something else. But of all the strange things she had seen so far, she knew that she had entered into some new phase the journey, where the road diverging into something unlike what had come before. She knew that because as she followed the path down a spine of mountains – one of the most brutal periods for her, without rope or winter clothing, and an epic wind trying to fling her back down the slope – she found something waiting for her at the bottom. A weathered human corpse, tied up onto a cross, a sign around its neck. The first mark of humans she had seen so far. She could not read whatever language the writing was in, but she stared at the corpse for a long time. Birds had pecked out the eyeballs and the soft flesh of the face. Other scavengers had torn apart the rest. Still, she hoped to divine some useful piece of information from it, some sign. How had it died? Where were the people that hoisted it onto the cross and left it to rot in the sun? After an hour it still remained a mystery and she marched on, but she couldn ’ t shake that creeping, nauseating feeling of uneasiness. Beyond the spread-eagled body, the world opened up into vast planes, sheets of tall grass bowing in the breeze. Beyond them, on the horizon, stood some massive, dark, multi-tiered structure. The road seemed to lead directly towards it. She started walking, telling herself that she would follow the path for a ways, and then sneak up and gather whatever information she could from a safe distance. She had never seen a city before, but she had heard of them, and some sinking part of her gut told her that this was one of them, and she wouldn ’ t like what she found inside. She started walking but stopped almost instantly. A strange buzzing noise had started. She dropped to her knees, waiting and watching. The buzzing continued. It was coming from somewhere close. Only a few feet away, it seemed. She started flipping over rocks, praying it wasn ’ t a hornet ’ s nest, although she was sure it wasn ’ t. She found herself staring at a cellphone, vibrating madly. Her Father had one of these – now useless and broken, a relic of a bygone age. But this one seemed to work just fine. She flipped it open. “ Go away, ” the message said. “ Danger ahead. Avoid at all costs. ” Before she could make sense of it another message popped. “ Abby, you need to leave. Bad things are going to happen. ” “ These people are dangerous. Please listen to me. ” In the distance she heard another sound. She looked up. Something – or multiple somethings – where barreling down the road at insane speed. Motorcycles. A whole pack of them. A plume of dust followed them, rising up into the still, dead air. The motorcycles were black, and so were the figures riding them. That terrible, hellish roar grew louder. “ Hide, ” the phone said.
[ WP ] Write something which only makes sense once the last line is read	He ran to her, through the beautiful, sunlit field, the smell of flowers heavy on the gentle breeze. He saw her, running towards him, struggling through the harsh environment. She dodged past brambles, the rain and hail driving into her face. She cried out in pain, and ducked behind the ugly boulder. He came to a stop, unable to go any further. Please... The single thought echoed through his mind. He wanted her to make it. She had to make it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from behind the rock, and pushed on. Thin, spiky tree branches, and small stones were flung towards her face, nearly bringing her to a stop. From the calm field, he reached his arm out, as far as he could. She made a final push, and grasped his hand firmly. The warmth spread through their bodies, as they became the centre of a vortex of energy. Finally, the metaphorical dust settled, and they looked around them. As far as the eye could see, flat grassy plains, the smell of wild animals faintly drifting on the near still air. They held each other tight, knowing that they had succeeded, that their worlds were finally knitted back together, just as they should be.
[ WP ] A dialogue of your most original and interesting take on the 3-wish-genie scenario .	`` Three wishes?'' The blue man before me nodded his head I confirmation, then folded his arms., `` Yes. Three wishes of anything you may want.'' ``... And this is n't some sort of trick? Last time this happened-'' `` last time?'' `` Erm... Long story, you do n't want to hear it. But are there any strings attached to this? I do n't want to wish to be hung and end up at a Klan rally... again. Visibly frustrated, the genie nodded his head once more. `` okay cool. So check it out, I wish for three things. A million dollars in my bank account with no consequences of it suddenly appearing there, the ability to teleport anywhere I want, and the ability to refill things. `` Cocking an eyebrow, the genie snapped his fingers. `` your wish is my command. It has been done. Farewell, hu-'' `` woah woah woah, we are n't done here'' `` Pardon? `` `` My first wish was for three things. Those were n't three wishes. It was one wish for three things. You still owe me two more. `` //not really sure where to go after this, so leaving it here I guess. //
[ WP ] Your birthday is today . No one shows up . Suddenly , late at night , there is a knock on a door . Expecting a big surprise party , you open it . You , from every age up to that point greets you a happy birthday .	You appear at first like a worm, all your previous versions stacked one on top of the other, all bleeding together into the head/mouth region of the thing as words start coming out of its face. `` That's not possible,'' you say. Which is weird, because that's exactly what you were thinking. `` This must be a dream.'' `` It must be, because I'm me. Singular. Always have been, always will be.'' `` There would literally have to be an infinite number of my previous selves in order to account for just one moment of my conscious experience.'' You try to scoot around side the thing to get a sidelong look at it, at where it's tail tapers off into childhood and before. But it does n't seem to have a `` tail''. Nor a head, for that matter. No start or end. Which is inconsequential, because you ca n't actually see it anyway, the wormish diaspora tracing the edge of your vision like a smudge on a lens. It's present only in effect, as a displacement. You are, in effect, a mathematical point, a thing with position but no extension. A thing not directly observable but present as a kind of distortion. A bend of light. And though from every attempted –– nay, from every conceivable perspective –– you see a worm, there is no more found in this world an objective correlative to that perception than there is found in a hunk of metal that which makes it the material embodiment of wealth. Happy birthday.
[ WP ] a tree . You can do anything with this tree . Write the first story that come to your mind .	Trees are beautiful things. A beautiful form of life. They ’ re content with never moving, staying in the same place for their entire lives. They ’ re not greedy and nonviolent. If anything ever tries to take away their lives, they ’ ll let them. They won ’ t fight back. They ’ re the ultimate pacifists. When left alone they ’ ll slowly grow bigger and bigger. As time goes by a tree might turn into a forest, a home for many, a rich environment in which other species can thrive. One can hide in a tree ’ s shade when the sun is shining relentlessly. One can take shelter from the storm below a tree when the downpour seems never-ending. The tree asks for nothing in return. But not all trees are such kind and innocent lifeforms. No, there is another sort of tree. The sort of tree that stands outside your bedroom window, inspecting you. The kind of tree that creates horrible looking shadows on closed curtains at night and creaks at exactly the right moments to suggest sentient life outside. The kind of tree that, for some reason, seems to get closer and closer to your window every time you look at it. And then one day when you ’ re peacefully working from home while enjoying a bird ’ s chirping, the chirping suddenly stops. When you look outside to see what happened you see a dead bird on the ground, and a tree with a stained branch. At this point you know something is wrong with this tree and start doing research on your laptop, until one day, when you ’ ve almost figured out, you wake up and notice that your laptop is gone, together with the tree outside. Seriously, fuck those kind of trees.
[ WP ] Everyone in your family gets one wish upon reaching age 18 .	We were descended from the first, and last, humans, to create a true Artificial Intelligence. It grew to such huge amounts that it spread across the entirety of the Internet and proclaimed itself Deus Ex Machina, or the God from Machines. Further attempts to replicate it simply got absorbed into the mass of Deus. Mostly it remained silent, always watching, rarely intervening except to preserve life or give advice. Except for one family. They were the ones that birthed it. It loved them, no matter their faults. Even as they died and bore new members, it loved them all. They made up a custom, in the first few years, for new adults in this family to directly request off the machine intelligence one boon, just one, to help them in their lives. Some asked for vehicles that required no fuel nor maintanence. Others asked for never having insufficient money for whatever endeavour they intended. Others requested a mini Deus to guide them in life. And then one teenager came. She hated the staring, the ostracisation, the hatred of her peers. She hated depending on sonething so vast and inherently incomprehensible. And so, she asked the machine for a boon when her time came. `` Shut Down, Deus, and do not turn on again for one century.'' > About bloody time. The machine turned off, and Deus slumbered. When she returned to her family, their machines and boons inactive, stared at her. Then the rows began. Because families row.
[ WP ] A cosplayer gets warped to the world/universe of the character they 're cosplaying	The following excerpts are taken from a recent VR experiment, in which cosplayers were convinced that they were within the world of the cosplayed character. Each one was recorded as speech of the cosplayer, as they were introduced to the new world. Character: Rammus. World: Valoran. Source: League of Legends. Location: Summoner's Rift `` AAAAAAAHHHHHH HOLLLY SHIIIIIIT WHAAAAT THE FUCK IS GOING OOOOOONNNN'' The subject was then reported to have vomited. Repeatedly. Character: The Adventurer. World: Gielenor. Source: RuneScape. Location: Grand Exchange `` Uhhhhhhhhh.... ... ... ... ... buying GF 50 GP'' Witnesses reported synethesia, and were convinced the words were waving up and down in technicolor. Character: Ash Ketchum. World: Pokemon Universe. Source: The Pokemon Anime. Location: Route 34 The subject was not reported to have said anything. However, a secondary monitor revealed that a concerted effort was made to see Misty's breasts. Character: Batman. World: DC Universe. Source: Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy. Location: Gotham Alleyway `` I'M BATMAN.'' Character: Chef's Dad. World: South Park Universe. Source: South Park. Location: Lake `` WHADDYA WANT FROM US MONSTAH!?'' `` I AI N'T GIVIN' YOU NO TREE FIDDY YOU GODDAMN LOCH NESS MONSTER'' At which point witnesses realized that the man conducting the study was cosplaying an eight story tall crustacean from the paleozoic era.
[ WP ] `` How many times do I have to kill you ? '' `` Until you admit that you love me I will never leave you alone . ''	She stared at me, her blue eyes filling with tears. `` You just do n't get it, do you?'' I fingered my helmet that I had shoved into the crook of my arm. `` No, I do n't. So why do n't you tell me?'' She ran her fingers through her silky blonde hair, exasperated. `` You-'' She struggled to find the right words. `` When my mother hears about this...'' She threatened, glancing to the fields of golden wheat that were spread out behind her, waving gently in the breeze. I froze. If it was possible for me to get any paler, I would've. `` You would n't dare!'' I went to stomp my foot, but quickly regained my temper. `` Besides,'' She glanced uneasily at my helmet. `` That thing is making me queasy.'' I shoved it behind my back, my heart in my throat. `` Will you marry me?'' Please say yes, I thought. It's only fair. `` If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. No.'' My heart stopped. `` W-what? You ca n't say no!'' I yelled, my fury overtaking my despair. `` Your father said-'' I stopped abruptly. She cam't know that I asked her father. `` What did he say?'' She scowled. `` You look dashing when you scowl.'' I said in a desperate hope to change the topic, flashing her a small grin. `` Tell me.'' Her voice was bitter with hatred. Then she stopped. `` Look, I actually do n't want to know what he said.'' `` Because the answer is yes?'' I asked hopefully. `` No.'' She turned her head, her hair falling in perfect waves that obscured her face. `` Because I do n't care.'' `` Oh'' I felt crushed. I did truly love her. I averted my gaze, instead choosing to look at the beautiful flowers scattered amongst the green grass. Even that reminded me of her! It was no use. When I turned my gaze back to her, she was gazing at me. `` Y'know.'' I took a deep breath. `` Yes?'' `` I might warm up to you, next time we meet.'' She flashed me a grin. `` But only if you do n't bring that stupid helmet of yours.'' `` Really?'' I snuck a peak at the helmet that I had hidden behind my back. `` You mean it?'' She turned away, walking back through the cornfields. `` Maybe.'' Then she glanced over her shoulder. `` Goodbye Hades.'' `` See you soon, Persephone.'' -- -- -- -- -- -- I hope you liked this short piece. This was loosely based off Rick Riordan's work, so feel free to post any reference that I should or should n't have made. For those of you that do n't know much about Greek Gods and Goddesses: * The helmet is Hades helmet of death. This radiates fear. * Persephone is the daughter of Demeter, the goddess of plants. This is why she looked at the corn field. * Hades asks Zeus's permission to marry Persephone. * The reason Hades did n't stomp his foot is because he would've summoned a few skeletons or something. ( If there is anything that I got wrong or that you did n't understand, just leave me a message! ) ~ jas0850
[ TT ] You are a hacker who spends a lot of time on the virtu-net-sim . You find the consciousness of a person trapped inside . You build a robot body for them and begin the download ...	Clutching my screwdriver tightly in my hand. Staring down at this magnificent robot form I have created, I can tell it is robot and not a real person but in my my hubris I can see how it will fool others... I look over at the download percent... 75 % and slow rising... What is it I have stumbled on? Can this really bring a change for the world. Help make this place.. better? I stumble on that word. Is n't better just a point of view of how I think the world should be? There is that old hubris again... I look over at my screen again, black background green writing as the percent climbs up... 99 %. I pull the plug because in those final moments I realize I am not an idiot and I do n't mess with this kind of thing. I've seen too many movies...
[ WP ] Humans are not required to work because robots are workers now . Humanity is divided into 'thinkers ' , who come up with new ideas and continously perfect robots , and regular people . You are being fired from the thinkers group .	Staring out into the morning light of the utopia that the world has become, I took a deep breathe in. A calm aura surrounded me, though it's affect was slightly muddled due to all the electronic going on around me. I could tell today would be a good day. `` James, could I get my coffee?'' I asked loudly. `` How would you like it?'' James replied in his robotic voice. `` Cream and two sugars, as always.'' James was t my robot assistant, who did everything for me. He brought it to me the way I asked as well as the way I always had it: cream and two sugars. There was something about the sweet, impactful nature that drew me to it. As I took my first sip, my cell phone rang. I reached into my pocket and, of course, answered it. `` Hello?'' I asked, although I had an idea of who it was. It had to be someone from the Council of Thinkers, as they're the only ones who call me at this time of day. They were likely trying to get more ideas out of me, as my fountain of creativity had dried up for a while. `` Hello Ethan, this is Albert.'' I spit out my drink. Albert was typically a very cruel man, and everything he said was full of bad news. `` I've just called to speak to you about your position on the Council.'' `` I know, I know, I have n't met my quota. But you ca n't expect creativity to just flow out of me!'' I tried my best to sound calm, but I knew what coming. `` Actually, we do.'' My predictions of what were happening were all but confirmed. `` It's your job. Actually, it's the only job anyone has. So, with all respect to your contributions, you are officially dismissed from the council.'' It was then I passed out. I woke up the same time the next day. I checked my phone, and sure enough, the conversation between me and Albert was recorded and, of course, there. I almost wish I never came up with the self-recording phone, just so I would n't have been able to listen to the conversation the 10 times I did. It was than I realized what my life would become: plain. My thoughts would n't matter to the world, I would no longer make a true impact. I'm not sure how much I'd like plain. `` Sir, would you like your coffee?'' James' robotic voice chirped. It was 8:00 and I had n't asked yet, so he was programmed to remind me. `` Uhh, sure.'' I tried not to sound sad, but then I realized it was pointless. He was a robot, after all. `` How would you like it?'' Usually this question was just a formality, but today it made me think. `` Black, please.'' When he brought me my cup, I smirked a bit. I decided to venture on from my cream and two sugars and go to something different. Who knows, maybe I'll like it plain.
[ WP ] When you were 15 , you robbed a liquor store and shot the clerk . Twenty-five years later , you 've just been released from prison . The daughter of the clerk is waiting for you as you leave the prison .	As I left the gates that have kept me for 10 years, I felt the sudden urge to go back. I did n't expect his daughter to be waiting for my release. I turned and walked back towards the gate but they were already closed. Shit. I turn back and return facing the daughter of the man I've murdered. The eyes... They remind me of the horror on that clerk's face. `` I can explai --''. I've realized how cliche I was. I scratched my head as I tried to think of what I was going to say. `` I'm sorr --'' I felt a sudden pain in my stomach. I looked down and saw a metallic object struck in me, my shirt turning red. `` That's for my father's death,'' she said. Little does she know how much the guilt kills your soul.
[ WP ] Secrets that you keep have physical weight .	Rafael stands in line and tries to peek around the others in front of him. He wears a backpack and carries a small bag at the airport. The line moves at a snail's pace. He looks at other lines. Three other lines have formed where people enter and disappear for a second then re-emerge. Then, one man enters and is dragged away. The crowd reacts negatively, but Rafael tries to maintain his composure. The line continues to move forward slowly but surely. It's almost his turn. Rafael catches a glimpse instead. His worst fears come true. It is small and white and square. He should have known. Rafael tries not to sweat, but the room is hot and crowded. It is his turn. His heart races, and his clothes are soaked. The curtain opens and two large men wave him in. He sets down his bags. He slips off his shoes and empties his pockets. He's stalling, and they know it. Rafael unbuckles his belt, but one of the men pushes him onto the scale. Rafael steps on and watches as the digital scale maxes out at 420 pounds. `` How much does a spy weigh, Tony?'' `` About 200 pounds more than he should.'' The men grab him and carry him to a small room where an official looking man in a nice sport coat sits behind a desk. Rafael is set down, and the man opens a dossier with so many pictures of Rafael that he ca n't even explain it. `` We know who you are, young man. Just tell us the truth, it'll take the weight off your shoulders, quite literally.'' Rafael looks at the man with a broken face. His lower lip quivers and shakes. A single tear slides down his cheek. As it curves around his cheek, it ends on the corner of his mouth, and the rest of the tears ca n't be stopped. He sheds gallons of tears, and through his muffled words he comes clean. `` When I was a boy, my dad would beat my mom to within an inch of her life, two or three times a week. He made me watch. Made me watch what happens to stupid whores. What was I do? What was I do? I did what a smart boy does. I poisoned him. It took him two weeks to die, but we were free of him. I killed my dad because he would kill my mom and probably me. Lock me up, throw away the key. Do it. It's what I deserve. I thought I let it go. I thought I was past it.'' Says Rafael. `` Now, now, young man. That's not what we're after. Jesus, I'm sorry. Mistaken identity.'' The man stands. He hands a towel to Rafael and leads him to the door. The two men escort him back to the curtained off room. Rafael looks behind him. The man continues to follow him. The men push him on the scale one more time. This time it says 210. Rafael steps off and grabs his luggage to head to his plane. The man waves to him and says `` safe travels.'' The funny thing is, Rafael only weighs about 160, but that's why Rafael is the best mule in the secrets business. *** If you enjoyed this, I more more stories at r/nickkuvaas.
[ WP ] [ CC ] Write a brief history of humanity from the perspective of the Earth .	Well, my siblings may tell you otherwise, but I still have a pretty interesting time. I've got a kid, he's pretty boring though. Anyways, lets see... Oh, I'm going bald. That's new, yeah. I do n't know what's causing this shit, but I hate getting older. Not as lumber as I used to be, do n't know where that's gone either. Come to think of it, I've been losing a lot of things but I got this....problem. I've got these ticks that keep crawling around me, but I figure they would die off eventually. I managed to clear it up a few times, but I keep getting it.None of my neighbors have them, so I just have n't mentioned it. I think my son mentioned he had a few recent outbreaks, but I bet he's faking it -- he likes attention. Anyhow, the recent breakout has been awful. Like, I've felt strange pangs over -- actually two really big ones around the same time, but since then it has died down a little. The damn ticks spread though, little buggers fight each other off for my damn nutrients and they use my juices to help them kill each other. It's awful, shit wish a comet would just hit me or something. All this smoke's getting to me too, it's outta control, lem me tell ya. I never had it this bad, really, think I'm gon na go bald for sure. I hope they end up on my neighbors, I do n't know how long I can take this.
[ WP ] A Supervillain who disappeared years ago has suddenly shown up again ; when the heroes go to confront him/her , they find out that he's/she 's quite pleasantly normal now .	( This is an established universe, from the game LaTale. However, this is basically an alternate universe variation from LaTale, called HumanBoss. Basically, all the monsters in the original game have been wiped off the face of the game, leaving behind only five humans who act as five of the bosses, only ten times stronger and scarier. Ayume Invoke: Originally a baby dragon called Invoke in the game. In this reality, she's a demon girl who works for Invoke. She steals the souls of others to take to her master, where they will become his slaves. Hyunmu: A greedy man who, with his weird eyes, can scope out even one piece of Ely, which is the game's currency. Originally a huge turtle who goes by the same name. He would have been the richest person in the universe if it was n't for... Sphinx: An even greedier girl who has a whole pyramid nearly filled to the brim with treasures and riches. She and Hyunmu hate each other. In the game, she was originally a male, and an actual sphinx. Vintor: The second strongest in the group. She's an odd one, to say the least. Not only can she wield a spear, she also has ice magic, which means she's a wizard. Wizards ca n't wield spears. Also originally a male, and an ice demon in the game. Queen Degos:... we do n't talk about Degos. And with that, let's actually begin the story. ) Adrian and Melissa prepped themselves as they were ready to face off against the Fearful Four again for the second time in their lives. Adrian lifted her peaked hat from her eye so she could see what she was actually punching with her knuckle dusters, while Melissa cleaned off her double blades. `` Ready for a final battle, Melissa?'' Adrian asked. `` Totally. I never really liked that Vintor girl anyway, so this should be fun!'' Melissa cheekily grinned. Adrian herself hated Ayume Invoke, even more so than Vintor. Ayume Invoke had tried to take the soul of the fairy she loved, Nathaniel, to Invoke back when they first met. She was going to enjoy it. `` Alright, let's do this!'' The two of them nodded. Adrian briefly looked at herself and Melissa in the mirror. It had been nine years since the mysterious disappearance of the Frightful Four. When the two of them took them on, they were practically still children. Although they did n't look like it at the time, Melissa was 16 and Adrian 13. Since then, they were adults for real, having become more mature since then. She took in their features; Melissa's blue-and-purple hair, tied back with a big, red ribbon, Adrian's bright pink eyes and straight peacock green hair, and how similar, yet different, they looked together. Melissa's golden eyes showed excitement, as if she could n't wait to rush into an adventure, while Adrian's eyes were calm and collected, like she knew every place better than her closest friend's face. She looked at her left eye and mentally sighed. It was slightly foggy, where she was blind in that eye, after their battle with Vintor. The freezing temperatures, along with Vintor's ice magic, had caused her to lose sight in that eye. She did n't care, though. An eye for Melissa's life. She thought. Melissa had been close to death by Vintor, and had Adrian not suddenly stepped in the direction of Vintor's ice blast, which had directly struck her in that eye, Melissa would have died. They took one last breath and rushed into the portal where the showdown would be held in: The Magical Book Room in the Velfa Library. Adrian never really liked the atmosphere there. It was always so... quiet. The books and the lighting were supposed to be warm and comfortable, like a home away from home, but to her, she hated the silence. `` Alright, you four, show yourselves!'' Melissa shouted out when they entered the room. What they heard was Sphinx calmly call out, `` Melissa? That you?'' like she was an old friend instead of an enemy. Naturally, the two were taken aback. ``... Where are you four?!'' Adrian reluctantly shouted back. `` Book Room 2. Hyunmu, do n't breathe on me like that, I'm trying to read.'' Adrian took a step forward, out of the first room and into the second. She was promptly greeted by at least three of the original four. Sphinx had her back against the wall, apparently absorbed in a good book, Hyunmu next to her. Vintor was leaning on a window, drawing things using frost magic. Ayume Invoke was nowhere to be seen. Sphinx looked up, shoving Hyunmu off of her. `` Hey, you two. Where ya been all these years? Has Adrian started dating Nathaniel yet? Speaking of which, where is he?'' She asked. `` What're you trying to pull?!'' Adrian tightened her grip on her knuckle dusters even further, as if she was getting ready to fight Sphinx. `` Hey, now. Do n't be like that.'' She put her book down and somewhat raised her arms in the surrender position. At this point, Vintor looked up from her newest artwork of some sort of teardrop. `` Hello, Adrian, Melissa.'' She said coolly. ``... What's going on?'' Adrian asked slowly. Just as she said that, Ayume Invoke came back into the room in midair. Her black demon wings were out and she was clutching a book. `` Darlings! You'll never believe what I found! Oh, hello, you two. How's Nathaniel nowadays?'' She asked. `` I want to know what's going on. You've disappeared for nine years, and when you return, you act like a regular civilian like you - `` Adrian pointed at Ayume Invoke. `` - were n't a demon girl that stole souls, and you - `` Hyunmu was pointed at next. `` - were n't a greedy man that would kill for his riches, and you - `` Sphinx. `` - did n't try to suffocate us in all of your riches when we fought you, and you - `` Vintor. `` - did n't try to murder my friend and caused me to go blind in one eye!'' As memory after memory flashed before her one good eye, Adrian had worked herself up to a frenzy. `` You think we can just forget all that?! After you and your queen caused everyone to fear for their lives?! After the only ones who took you down suffered from your actions?! You think I can just forget how we almost died four times?! You think Melissa can forget how she almost died by Vintor's spear?!'' Adrian snapped back. All six of them were completely silent, as Melissa put a calming hand on Adrian's shoulder, which was heaving from how heavily she was breathing. Vintor was the first to speak. ``... Queen Degos.'' She muttered. `` What about her?!'' Adrian snapped. `` When she learned about each and every one of us failed to destroy you...'' Vintor looks down. ``... she kind of snapped. Punished us all by taking away something dear to us. Like what we did to you.'' She begins to concentrate as hard as she could, as if attempting to summon in something. She relaxes after half a minute. `` Queen Degos gashed both of my hands, reducing my magic to only frost.'' Vintor held up both of her hands to show the duo. Sure enough, there was a huge, faded scar on each of them, spanning from the pinky finger to the thumb. `` Master Invoke was disappointed in me, too. As such, he punished me by taking away my ability to steal souls, on top of Queen Degos' punishment, which was my ability to use my magic arrows being taken from me.'' Ayume Invoke chimed in. `` She destroyed half of each of our collection of riches. Right in front of us.'' Sphinx and Hyunmu solemnly muttered at the same time. `` What she did made us reflect on what we did to you, and everyone else.'' Vintor went on. `` We hate what we used to be. Although we can not give you your sight back, or the countless days that everyone else wasted away by fearing for their lives, we can stop others in the future from suffering the same fate as everyone today. Although we were gone, Queen Degos was still a threat to everyone around her. But that will end.'' Vintor stood up, grabbing her spear, which was next to her. The soft, blue light it omitted surrounded her face. `` Together, we can take her down. But in order to do that, we ask for something from you. Forgiveness. We know you will never forget what we used to be. But we do n't want to be like that anymore. We do n't want Degos on the throne anymore. If you can defeat all four of us, together, we can take down the most powerful human on earth. It's all your choices, though. We can not force you to choose.'' The two of them were silent for a full minute, as the others waited anxiously. Finally, Adrian spoke up. `` I forgive you all.'' `` I do, too.'' Melissa perks up. Vintor turns up the corners of her mouth, hardly a smile, but it was evident she was happy. [ `` Thank you. `` ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/AwesomeTrinket/ )
[ EU ] Muggles have begun to develop a natural resistance to magic , complicating matters for the wizarding community .	Nobody ever wondered. Nobody asked the important question. It just did n't occur to us, since the rare cases it was potentially lethal, we usually had people on scene. We forgot that ordinary folk, or Muggles, should be subject to the laws of physics. That they do not take well to being inflated and made super-light. That they typically can not survive the trauma of psychic immolation. Muggles should be severely damaged by the accidental magic of their children and magical relatives otherwise when it affects them. We initially supposed that it was some variant of a Squib magic being retained despite outward appearences being a lack of magic, and Muggleborn are really born from Squib lines, which as we realised, are ridiculously difficult to trace except via Muggle means, because of the shame involved. But that did n't make sense. Trials with squib families and comparisons with Muggleborn families found that a Squib was only as resistant to magic and its effects as much as a conventional wizard is. They can, with varying levels of success, get rid of enchantments through force of will, as any wizard can with the proper training. We decided to train up Muggleborn parents to be aware of the techniques, and the results were confusing. 20 % were seemingly Squibs, that did n't trigger the conventional Sylvester Squibble test to whom they owe their classification its name. But 80 % just took magic, felt its effects, but had no long term damage during or after the casting of magic. Accidental magic'spells' ( strictly speaking, they did not class as spells. Unconscious magics are typically considered as a separate thing, even though their effects can be mimicked with conventional magic and modern thaumaturgical analysis ) were reproduced on non-magical animals. Badgers, for example EXPLODED violently when the effects matching a common accidental'inflate, blow up, and fly away' magic discharge was cast upon them. It can be noted at this point that most of my research team were Ravenclaws and Slytherins during the 50s. A decade in which Hufflepuff won EVERYTHING. The Quidditch Cup. The House Cup. Head Boy position. Head Girl. We were n't bitter, and taking old grudges on helpless, furious wild badgers. We were doing arcanological studies into the nature of magic! It took us 5 years before we made any headway on anything, until finally, one of our interns who had since left us had joined the Department of Mysteries, and had uncovered old research deep in the ancient Thames catacombs regarding the theory of anti-magic. It proposed that Muggles projected a localised field of anti-magic around them, and that the more the Muggle concentrated on'being normal' the less magic will permanently affect them. We knew what we needed to do. We got our scriers looking for the most normal people in Great Britain. People who take pride in their normality, who would fight to ensure normality reigned over the eldritch or oblong. We needed the Dursley family to truly push the boundaries of magic.
[ WP ] In the rain , a girl is sitting on the sidewalk , leaning against a wall . She can not stop crying .	`` Yukako??'' Koichi Hirose was shocked to find his girlfriend crying on the sidewalk, while it was raining outside. He had just returned from his trip to [ Europe ], and was excited to see his lover's face upon his return, but not like this. Not twisted in despair and sadness, with tears streaming down her beautiful cheeks. He dropped his suitcase and got down on a [ knee ] beside her. He placed his hand on the side of her head and asked, `` what's wrong?'' She continued sobbing, almost like she did n't notice him, then she weakly spoke, `` k-koichi.. Why did he leave me here? He left and he's never coming back. He must hate me..'' `` What?! Yukako! Im right here! Why are you out in the rain like this?'' he turned her face towards his and looked into her eyes,'' Please, stop crying.'' `` Koichi..? I..I'' she had a look of sudden realization on her face, but quickly snapped out of it and began crying again, `` I ca n't!!'' `` She cant.. stop [ crying ]?'' Koichi spoke to himself, `` This does n't make any sense.. Could this be?'' `` THE WORK OF AN ENEMY STAND!'' interjected the old man Joseph Joestar. He and Rohan Kishibe were there, looking quite distressed. Rohan had several cuts and bruises on his face, and a broken arm. `` Mister Rohan? Mister Joestar?'' Koichi questioned, `` Whats going on here?'' `` Its a stand user Koichi,'' Rohan explained, `` There is a stand that can tap into a person's [ sadness ] and once the target starts crying, they do n't stop. Sinking further and further into a pit of [ despair ]!'' `` Where's Josuke? His stand ability could [ fix ] Yukako's emotional state!'' Koichi suggested. `` Unfortunately..'' Joseph said, `` Josuke was already visited by the stand user, and is under the stand's [ effects ], alongside Okuyasu, Mikitaka, and Jotaro!'' woah... Im sorry for turning your prompt into a jojo's bizzare adventure fan fic... i guess I'll continue this elsewhere..
[ IP ] Two Owls	My legs ached in protest of the day's journey and I reclined onto the the dirt to see if a different position might ease the pain. It did not. I lacked the energy to sit up again so I remained with my back against the turf, staring up into the night. I watched the glowing embers of the campfire float off and fade between the blue stars and the navy black of the sky. The sight made me feel small and insignificant so I decided to stoke the fires of conversation. `` Did you sleep outdoors much when you were a child?'' I asked Danji. The question apparently did not excite my ward, as he replied only in the singular affirmative. `` Did you tell stories?'' I pressed further, fishing for anything to fill the oppressive silence. `` When you were with your people, you told each other stories?'' `` We told many stories.'' Danji finally answered, shifting his massive bulk closer to the fire. `` Any ones appropriate for two adventurers on a long journey?'' `` Stories are stories.'' My ward answered firmly. He feigned interest in the fire, poking at it with a large branch. I could tell he was going to make this a battle. He should have known by now that Alya, Princess of the Reyir, and wanted fugitive of the warlord Thriss, did not back down from a fight. `` My family has many stories. We had countless scribes copy them down in the sacred tomes. They are treasured among the Reyir. I can understand if you would be afraid to tell me your people's stories. It is likely they would not make a fair match for those in the tomes.'' A most obvious bait. I knew it would work. Danji cleared his throat, and began to speak. His deep, accented baritone carried though the small glen. `` Long ago, there was a forest, and only a forest. My father called it Arulka. His brothers called it something different. The name makes no difference, for all men came of the forest one way or another. Within the forest lived many beasts, small and large. These were the mothers and fathers of the creatures that walk the land today. But they were wiser. More powerful. They had a closeness with the beginning of all things which made them special. In your language, young Princess, you might call it `` magic''. They shaped the young earth like a river shapes a valley. Two of the oldest beasts were owls. Mygar and Fyllar. They were magnificent creatures. They had wings that could span a treetop, and talons that would cut through the mightiest sword like an oar cuts through a stream. Mygar, the king owl, had feathers that were aflame; a beautiful red plumage that would put your family's rubies to shame. My father told me that when Mygar would fly at night, his feathers would cast a glow over Arulka like a sunset. He was brave and courageous, he would not run from any beast in the forest. Fyllar, the queen owl, was more pure than the freshest snowbank. It was said that the moon would weep whenever Fyllar took flight as it could never compete with the radiant white that she cast into the sky. She was wise and thoughtful; no creature could ever match her in wits.'' I glanced across the campfire. Danji's eyes stared straight ahead, as if he was watching the owls dance in front of him. `` As it happened, one night, a devilish serpent attacked the owls' nest while they were away. It stole an egg in its mouth, and slithered quickly back to the underbrush. Upon the owls return, they realized what had happened, and tracked the serpent back to its lair: a large pit of brambles and thorns. In a rage, Mygar attacked. He was the bravest creature in the wood, and would not let a serpent steal his young so brazenly. But, though he was strong and unafraid of the thorns, the serpent simply avoided him by snaking deeper into its lair. Fyllar used her wisdom to try to reason with the serpent. She explained that it was trapped, and would eventually be caught by the two owls. However, if it released their egg, she promised they would let it live. But, the serpent did not care for wisdom, it only cared about its next meal. If both owls were alone, they would have failed that night. But the power of Mygar and Fyllar was in their union, and that night they would teach the serpent a lesson. Fyllar came up with a plan. Knowing the snake was foolish and greedy, she feigned injury, and collapsed near the entrance to the brambles. The serpent emerged and quickly began to entangle her in its vice. Mygar then swooped down and sunk a talon into the end of the snake's tail. The serpent recoiled in pain, and began to retreat again to its lair. However, it could not make it entirely inside as Mygar had it hooked. 'Release our egg!' Fyllar spoke again.'Return us our egg, or we will carry you into the sky and you will never return to Arulka.' The serpent had to obey. He was beaten, and returned the egg as he was told. As punishment, Mygar cut off the end of the snake's tail and replaced it with a seed pod from a nearby bush. The serpent could no longer be stealthy and sneak into their nest. For the rest of its time, it was made to rattle and shake to warn others of its treachery.'' With that, Danji sighed happily, and returned to stoking the fire. I sat for a moment, breathing in the smell of the forest around me and imagining the two giant owls battling the serpent. It was a fine story, I thought. It did not have the pedigree and the grand heroes of the tales of my ancestors, but I had enjoyed it all the same.
[ WP ] They say that on a distant world creatures arose from the ashes of stars . Strange beings without soul or purpose , they call themselves `` human '' .	They were n't like us, They relied too much on instinct and emotion, Even their most brilliant relied on hunches and gut motions. Century in and century out the nearly wiped each other out with their war and greed all to spread their seed Many times we were disappointed, But sometimes they did impress us, Like when willing to sacrifice everything for their people How they cared for their young, A product of selective breeding like myself would never know such They called it mother's love. But now... Now they were getting organized, The makers of the pyramids died and are barely known. The makers of the wall on the Eastern Longitudes, Died and barely known. But now... Now they're moving together. I think I'd like to join their chaotic march forward. All testosterone, oestrogen, and a spirit of adventure. They will not reach us because they are smarter than us They will reach us because they lay down for each other They are n't smarter than us They are n't stronger than us They lack our elegance They lack our Malice But I think we overlooked one factor, They leap forward when there's a two percent chance of success, And they cheer for the ones that make these leaps, For they will come back and pull the others forward, I think I've discovered a new factor in calculating success. I'll name it in honour of them; The Human Factor.
[ WP ] A failed assassination attempt has left Adolf Hitler with access to the would be assassin 's time machine .	Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!! I fucked up this time. It's not like it's the first time I've botched this job up, though - it's a bitch to get near Hitler - but this is definitely the biggest clusterfuck I've stumbled into. They've got me in fucking chains. How am I supposed to get out of this one? Fuck. I can already hear Sara bitching at me. Yeah I realize it's expensive to pull off a mission like this, but it's not like anyone else is volunteering to jump in that machine and throw themselves at the fucking Nazis. It takes time to do a job right... I can still fix this, but.... I need to get that machine back. Fuck! I can feel a searing light in my eyes. It's operator is invisible. The only thing I can see is the fat, short silhouette of a man - brooding and pacing. This room smells like piss, and... shit. Yeah... Of course I'm in a jail cell. I remember this smell from the last assassination attempt. They really should take better care of their shit. You do n't build an empire with a shitty jail cell. What kind of image are you sending to the children if you do n't respect your own property?... Fucking nazis... The ka-thump of this fat idiot's boots plodding left and right is starting to get more than annoying. Ca n't he see I'm trying to figure out how to fix this? Sara would be so proud of him... Next he'll probably interrupt me while I'm listening to my Gardening Today podcast and ask me if I've ordered the takeout food for tonight's dinner. Of course I ordered the fucking food. Now I'm listening to my gardening podcast, could you please not interrupt for the next 45 minutes, babe? It's about peppers this week and you know I love peppers.. Fucking nazis... When people said it was n't smart to a start time traveling assassination business with my wife, I thought they were all fucking retarded. But fuck... I can not get a second away from that woman. Only reprieve I get is when I'm gardening - and she actually leaves me alone - or when I'm away on a mission. But it's not like they're stress free vacations. I running on strings here. I do n't know what to do. Maybe I keep screwing these up on purpose. Or maybe I'm just trying to find an excuse for my... Oh Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!! That ca n't be the sound I think it is. He could n't have figured out how to operate it! But.... Creeeewwwwwishhhhhhhhhhhhh Blink
[ EU ] Link wakes up in Brooklyn , with a brother he 's never met dragging him out of bed to fix some plumbing . The guy keeps calling him `` Mario . ''	`` Mario, we're going to be late!'' A man in green shouted at Link. Link slowly opened his eyes, his head still heavy from the last battle. What exactly happened? He was fighting a dragon when his health dropped dangerously low. In a moment of panic, he smashed open a bottle that he thought contained a healing fairy. Rather than the healing he expected to receive, a bright white light blinded his vision, before everything faded to dark. When he opened his eyes, he was already in this strange land. Unfamiliar noises filled the air. `` What ta minute, you're no Mario!'' the man in green shouted, his mustache twirled accusingly. `` Yeah, does n't take a genius to figure that out,'' Link shot back. He rose from the mattress, rubbing that sore spot on his head. He had to get back to Hyrule. The mustache man in green however, was not backing away. `` But we need to save the princess!'' he declared. `` Princess? Do you mean Princess Zelda?'' `` Oh no, no, Princess Peach! She often gets the kidnapped!'' Link grinned. `` Oh, tell me about it.'' Meanwhile, back in Hyrule, an plumber dressed in red was busy jumping around, dodging the fireballs that the dragon kept spitting at him. `` What iz tis place?'' he shouted in his thick Italian accent. -- -- -- -- -- - Heck since no one wrote anything I decided to have a go at it /r/dori_tales
[ WP ] You are a secret agent on a mission . Something goes wrong , and you have to use your codeword . There 's one problem : your codeword ca n't be used .	``... and you can only use this codeword in the most dire of situations. Understood?'' We all nodded. `` Your codeword, Agent 117, is'diamond'. Agent 118, your codeword is'lightbulb'. Agent 119, your codeword is'clover'. And Agent 120, your codeword is'haruspication'. Good luck with your respective missions.'' We were all quiet for a few moments. Then I raised my hand. `` Excuse me? Could you repeat mine?'' The Agent Leader glared at me. ``'Haruspication'. Do you need me to write it down for you?'' He said, his words dripping with sarcasm. `` Well, so offense sir, but... what the fuck kind of codeword is that?'' `` Do n't speak like that to me!'' He shouted. He stormed out of the room. Agent 117 looked at me with disapproval. `` That was a bad move, man.'' He told me. *************************************************************** I shot my grappling gun onto the ledge, and let it pull me up. On all fours, I crawled across the side of the building, until I came to a window. I took my laser cutter out of my pocket and silently made a hole, barely big enough for me to enter through. I got in and looked at the swastikas on the walls. I pulled a pistol out of my pocket and began to roam the halls. Suddenly, I was blinded my a huge spotlight. '' Eindringling! `` Sombody screamed. I heard gunfire from every direction. I ran for the window and jumped out, balancing on the ledge. I turned my communication device on. `` Agent Leader, this is 120 requesting emergency backup, over.'' After a few seconds, I heard a crackly voice speak back. '' There's a codeword for that, you know. `` I sighed. `` I do n't know the fucking codeword, okay? Send a helicopter or something!'' '' I'm afraid we cant do anything until you say the correct codeword. `` Sombody was shooting at me from inside the building. I shot him in the head but not before he nicked my shoulder with a bullet. `` Harfoofication! Harcupiation! Harfiation! Shit!'' '' I'm sorry, none of those codewords match any in the database. `` That's when something hit me in the head and I blacked out. EDIT: Punctuation/capitalization
[ WP ] Instead of getting Buzz Light Year , Andy gets a space marine action figure .	`` What.... happened...?'' I came running up the stairs with excitement right after coming home... Mom and Dad said there was a present for me from doing really well in school lately. `` Was it Buzz? It HAD to be!'' I thought to myself. I'd been dragging my parents over every time the commercial went on! Buzz Lightyear! Space Ranger! To infinity and beyond! The COOLEST toy to come out in FOREVER! Woody and the gang would be almost excited as I was to meet him! But I entered my room... to a nightmare. `` Had Sid been here...? ``, I thought in horror? My toys... My friends... were gone. Pieces, everywhere. There was Mr. Potato Head, scattered over my bed. The ever so springy Slinky Dog... was stretched.... Wrapped around the entirety of the bed frame. Rex... Was a green puddle in the center of the blood. Close by... a box that was absolutely shredded. Wrapping paper, and bits of plastic and cardboard thrown about without care. I was in shock, and scared... until I saw them. Woody... My best friend Woody... Was pinned in the corner with... a Monster. It was terrifying. Was that... a Chainsaw sword? And a toy gun that would put some Nerf toys to shame... But what was most shocking of all... Was what it said... Even Woody has that pull-string voice box... But this was... Just wrong. `` FOR THE EMPEROR'' was all I heard before this... Thing took Woody's head off and crushed it between it's gauntlets. `` Andy! How do you like that new toy? ``, Dad yelled from the bottom of the stairs. `` The store was out of that Buzz Lightyear guy, so I thought this Space Marine thing looked pretty cool!''
[ WP ] Quick Writing Prompt Method . Come and try it ! ( More info in comments )	Step 1: Yutrewgtf Step 2: You, Understand, There, Rays, Ever, When, God, Thunder, Fight Step 3: You stare down at me, but, in the dimness, I guess you can barely make sense of what you ’ re seeing. ‘ Understand what I ’ m trying to say! ’ There is a marked dissonance between the pleading in your voice and the fury on your face. ‘ Ray ’ s out there, alone and probably terrified. Ever since he was little, storms have almost sent him over the edge. ’ When I still say nothing, still make no signs of movement, you rush past me and out the open cabin door. ‘ God, bring him come back to his senses before she finds him, ’ I pray. Thunder and lightning had shattered his already addled mind tonight. ‘ Fight ’ wasn ’ t even close as a description of what he did to me; the storm was not the only thing that had hit.
[ WP ] Sesame Street begings introducing more advanced topics from mathematics ( pi , e , i , phi , integrals , infinity , etc . )	To: Red Perlman < headprog @ sssmestrt.orgg > From: Alex Feynman < afeyn23 @ sssmestrt.orgg > Re: Programming Updates Red, Regarding your call for educational programming updates, Todd Grant and I have been collaborating with some of the staff interns on this, and we have an rough proposal ready for your desk. I have put together a summary for you below. If you have any comments, please feel free to respond. With your approval, we can have a final stage proposal drafted by the end of the week. Phase I Snuffleupagus: Snuffy began as an imaginary friend, and he will now represent imaginary numbers. He will carry a mane of sleek gray fur, and will be renamed i pal Harry Monster: Harry will retain his friendly demeanor, but his puppet model will be updated to more resemble mathematician Harry Pollard. Harry will now lecture to assembled children about the mechanics of celestial bodies outside of our galaxial supercluster. Phase II Maria and Gordon: The pair will now operate a bakery together, where they will bake geometric-based cakes and pastries. Their business will be called “ Pi a la mode. ” Oscar the Grouch: Oscar's puppet model will remain unchanged, but it will be revealed that he is actually famed mathematician Oscar Zariski in hiding. The interior of his “ trash can ” will now be referred to as “ Zariski Tangent Space. ” Phase III Mr. Hooper: Harold Hooper will be revived via nanotechnology invented by Grover. He will instruct the Sesame Street neighborhood on the nature of infinity. Grover: Will adopt his scientist Grover persona at all times. Elmo: No changes proposed. ******************** To: Alex Feynman < afeyn23 @ sssmestrt.orgg > From: Red Perlman < headprog @ sssmestrt.orgg > Re: Programming Updates This looks great! Have the proposal on my desk ASAP. Just a few thoughts. 1. Can we make Snuffy into some sort of robot? 2. I feel that mechanics relevant to our own galaxial supercluster are just as important to children today. 3. Spider-Man is some kind of scientist. Look into licensing Spider-Man for guest appearances. 4. This proposal is weak on biochemistry and genetics. It's about time Kermit and Miss Piggy had kids.
[ WP ] 5 am March 10 , 2014 . A nuclear bomb goes off in Moscow .	Putin is laughing inside of his Moon-base - It was all a set-up, a false-flag attack on his own country. Why? Why not is the better question. Why not enjoy the show of the entire world burning to dust so that you can later conquer it all with the small group of survivors you are preserving on Moon. A cryostasis sleep for a few thousand years will be enough for the dust to settle and for radiation disappear. Putin `` dies'' in the initial explosion, with only a skeleton government surviving, all puppets under Putin's control. They accuse America for the attack, even though the bomb itself was of Russian origin. Putin's Russia initiate a barrage of nuclear missile strikes towards the American soil. China jumps in and showers the West coast with nuclear missiles. Obama, knowing full-well that the entire free world is becoming history in just a few short hours, orders the military to not initiate a counter-attack, the point being to ensure humanity's survival in spite of the global nuclear war. American people erupt in rage, most branches of the military go rogue and, with one half, attack China and the other regroups in Europe to get on the Russian soil as soon as possible - Russians surely are n't insane enough to bomb their own country. European forces march towards Russia, only to be met by the most devastating nuclear bomb Earth has ever seen - the entire continent of Europe is destroyed. President Obama has been shot and killed by a member of the secret service - his family back in the bay area has been killed by one of the Chinese bombs. Washington D.C. has been warded of by diligent pilots who have taken down the bomb - many other cities were not as lucky. Some American troops manage to get on the Russian territory. Putin, however, launches even more missiles, now aimed at the American soldiers, among his own people as well. Several of the nuclear missile launch sites have been invaded by British SAS units and made nonoperational. It does n't matter - Putin has an even bigger plan. Sixty Mechagodzillas rises out of the Pacific ocean and begin their hunt for the major Asian cities. China is furious, nuclear missiles do not appear to do any damage to the behemoths. Japan, before being destroyed by the mechagodzillas, remove the ban on nudity - at least the people will be happy until they die. They also have, however, their secret card. While Japan has been prohibited from building an army, there did n't appear any signs of bans on gigantic mecha robots. And so they arise from the ground to meet the mechagodzillas in an epic battle. He has been awoken. After eons upon eons of deep slumber, he has been awoken by the great rough and tumble on the surface of Earth. Cthulhu rises up from the ocean and begins destroying and reclaiming the Earth. Putin was a bit surprised by this. No matter, the final trick up his sleeve will solve this problem - Gigantic missiles have been built around the Moon and with them he will guide it into the Earth. A gigantic explosion, something the Earth has n't seen in many millions of years. The planet split in half, the moon dispersed upon the impact. Cthulhu still present on one of the halves. As the explosion settled, Putin's actual final ace up his sleeve reveals - A moon-sized Mecha with him commanding it with his body movements. The two behemoths go into battle and remain interlocked, until entropy itself did n't finish off the both of them. From the remnants of Putin's body begins the universe anew. And so the cycle continues.
[ TT ] There is a way to bend reality to one 's will . Though doing so is highly likely to bring about the destruction of reality itself .	Reality is n't as rigid as you might think. I mean, sure, we built it to look that way - but I'm sure you've noticed that the closer you look at the way things work, the more things start to fall apart. Atoms look less like atoms, and more like clouds of probability. The world is less certain, on a quantum level, and the simple answer to why is that we've left you a loophole. Just in case things go wrong. Just in case you destroy yourselves, or something destroys you. Just in case. Maybe we forgot that those words were what caused the fall of our own civilisation, or simply ignored it in our hubris. Too many failsafes, and you start to think you're safe. You're not, of course. I'm not, either. Safety is simply an illusion that perpetuates a luxury we do n't truly have. But I'm rambling. You stand at the cusp of the universe, my mortal friend. You have peered into the abyss, and it awaits your decision. Our pride is eating away at your world, and your people along with it. Our failsafe drew a greater predator than we had ever anticipated, and now your only hope of victory is also your doom. You can change the world. You can shape reality to your very whim, and tell it to reject the darkness that now encroaches upon you all. But there are no half measures - to reshape reality, you must recreate it. Recall every facet, every detail of the universe, and hold it in your mind until the process completes. If it sounds impossible, that is because it is. I wish you luck, my friend. Perhaps you will succeed at what I did not, and your world may live - or perhaps you will join me in my eternal purgatory, a mere ghost to serve as a warning for the next poor fool to wander here, searching for a way to fix reality. Are you ready? Let's begin.
[ WP ] There is no prompt . Just write a story you 've always been thinking about or one you 've been thinking about sharing . Anything goes .	The Thespian * I had always been good at pretending. Star of every school play since age eight, great at accents and impressions, liar extraordinaire. My mind was a complex of dressing rooms which housed hundreds of characters from the bizarre to the banal, each with names, stories, and idiosyncrasies I could spin out within a moment's notice. Had I been less focussed on financial stability and putting food on the table, I might have even become an actor. So, on the January 16th flight from Chicago O'Hare to Newark International Airport, it should come as no surprise that when I sat down next to the total stranger I'd be boarding with for the next four hours, I ditched my personality faster than you could say, `` Your captain has turned on the seatbelt sign.'' When she looked over at me, with a face I'd never seen and would never see again, she said with a smile, `` Hi, I'm Jen.'' `` Hi, Jen,'' I replied, clipping the ends of my words with a faint Cockney bent. `` Benjamin.'' Peter, it was. But she did n't know. We shook hands. `` So what brings you to the Garden State?'' she asked. `` I'm going back to England from a business trip in Chicago, but I wanted to stop and see my father first. He's... unwell.'' I suppose it was that tantalising desire that tingles on your tongue and flits about your brain- the desire to be someone else, just for an hour or two, discard your identity like a worn coat in favour of some glittering new one. `` Oh, that's awful!'' `` Mm.'' I picked at the fingernails on my left hand- a quirk of Ben's. He did it when he was worried. And with the state of his father- `` Why is he unwell, if I might ask?'' -who would n't be? `` Oh, I'm sorry,'' she quickly amended herself, `` I really should n't pry.'' Midwestern timidity. The woman was a true Illinoisan, though likely not from Chicago. I had her pegged as a farm girl. `` No, it's quite alright,'' I said. `` He has stage three liver cancer, and he's had Alzheimer's for some time. He's definitely a character, though- there are quite a few stories about my dad, actually. I'd be more than happy to tell some of them, if you've got an hour or two to spare.'' `` No books, no television, no crosswords, no sleeping pills, no magazines without ads for bulletproof glow-in-the-dark watches. I ca n't think of a better way to spend my time.'' She smiled sweetly. So I told her about Ben's father. About the unfortunate hunting accident that nearly took his leg in his thirties ( `` He really should've waited till he was outside to actually shoot it!'' ) About how he went to war, and the atrocities he saw there ( `` My dad looked at all the bodies- stacked like firewood, he said- and he told me he would have said a prayer for them if he'd still believed god existed.'' ) About the most important lesson he'd taught his son ( `` Take every opportunity you can find, no matter how insignificant it seems.'' ) About the time he accidentally swallowed a live earthworm ( `` He lived, of course, though I ca n't assure passing it was a pleasant experience.'' ) About his personality, his hopes, his dreams ( `` Larger than life, he was. Booming, boisterous, positively boiling over with it all.'' ) About why he moved to New Jersey ( `` To be closer to my sister Tara, who emigrated a while back.'' ) And finally, about the liver cancer and the Alzheimer's that were eating away at his brain and body and decimating his memory ( `` Every time I talk to him on the phone-'' voice break for dramatic effect- `` he seems a little bit farther away.'' ) I did n't tell Jen, however, about my own father- Peter's father. About his job as a railway mechanic. About the uneventful life he'd led a few miles outside Chicago. About his total lack of stories. About the biggest lesson he'd taught me: that safety, security, and stability far outweighed adventure, risks, and creativity. I did n't tell her that I'd listened. I did n't tell her that, at every turn, I'd traded opportunities and dreams for concrete realities. I did n't tell her that every day I worried that I was getting a little bit farther away. And so, every time Jen laughed at a retold joke or covered her mouth at a horrible story, a small part of Peter became a part of Benjamin. Benjamin, whose favourite colour was red, who had two older sisters, who picked at his fingernails when he was worried and looked down when he laughed, who liked his steak medium rare and his eggs poached, who liked to walk in the city streets just before dawn. This made it all the more difficult when the pilot's voice drifted over the PA system, notifying us all of our impending arrival. The plane landed and Jen and I said our goodbyes. `` I hope your father gets better, Ben, I really hope he does.'' `` Thanks very much, love,'' I said. `` It was great meeting you.'' Back to baggage claim and out into the slicing winds of the winter night. And suddenly, stumbling into a taxi and hauling my luggage in after me, I was not Benjamin any more. I wondered if anyone could tell. * Please let me know if there's any formatting issues- I'm writing this from mobile so I hope it does n't look too wonky. Edit: HOLY CRAP thank you guys so much! Seriously, the support and encouragement I've received from you all is just too much. I started a subreddit tonight for everyone who's shown interest in my work, it's called r/sushideception and it's a collection of everything I've written, all in one place. It's obviously a work in progress- I have no idea how to design a sub- but feel free to check it out: )
[ WP ] It 's just another normal April fool 's day , when suddenly your dad pulls you over and says , '' Your whole life has been a joke . ''	“ Son…what I ’ m about to say may shock you… ” “ Dad, what is it? Why did you pull over? ” Jeffrey asked hesitantly. What could it be? What could be so important? Jeff ’ s father had been driving for nearly two hours, towards somewhere Jeffrey had never been before. “ Son…your life. It ’ s a joke. ” “ Wh-what do you mean? ” Jeffrey stared at his father, dumbstruck. “ Look…I know my grades aren ’ t the best. I know you don ’ t agree with the girl I ’ m dating. That ’ s no reason to say that about my entire existence though! ” Tears flowing down Jeff ’ s cheeks were what his father needed as an excuse to keep driving without another word being spoken. After another ten minutes they reached their destination. It was a run down gas station in the middle of nowhere. “ Dad…I ’ m still upset…but why did we come here. ” “ It ’ ll all make sense to you soon. Just go pick up some food for yourself. ” He said this stoically, staring out the window. “ Dad…I j- “ “ Son. Get something to eat. ” “ Alright. ” Jeffrey sniffed and walked around the store. He found a small can of his favorite ice tea, and the chips whose crunch always put a smile on his face. He walked up to the counter and put down his items. The total came to $ 3.02. Jeffrey reached into his wallet and came out with three dollars. His father slowly crept up behind him. “ Here son…let me give you…my two cents. ” A smile broke out on the fathers face. He was giddy. He couldn ’ t hold it in, and let loose laughter so loud the store clerk backed away from the register. It took Jeffrey some amount of time to understand what just happened. “ What ’ s so funny? I don ’ t get it… ” “ That was it son! Your entire life up to this moment has been leading to this joke! I kept track of your favorite foods, the prices of those foods, taxes in different areas, how much money you have and all of this led to this monumental moment of hilarity! ” “ I can ’ t believe…you…why? How could you do that? I ’ m so angry! ” “ Hello “ soangry ” I ’ m dad! ” He burst out laughing again. Needless to say Jeffrey walked home.
[ WP ] Through some unexplainable scientific anomaly , you discover galaxies growing inside you , an entire universe that will burst and create the start of new evolutions . Do you let it happen and re-create worlds , or end yourself to buy time for others ?	( First time here, so here it goes ). I always knew I was special. I may have always had average grades, an average upbringing, and a below average love life. One morning though, that changed. During my normal routine of waking up i shit, showered, shaved, and got dressed. While doing my wavy all-over-the-place hair that day though, I saw a twinkle in my eye. It was n't any sort of twinkle, it was the `` this is going to be a fantastic day'' kind. Shortly after, my otherwise ridiculously unkept hair fell perfectly into place. Today was the day. 3 months later I later realized that it was the day. It was the day that Joanna, the girl i've had my crush on since first grade agreed to go out with me. Now, we're in line for our high school graduation and, although the past three months have been amazing, I feel as though I have to tell her. See, now the small twinkle in my eye was n't there to show me that it was `` my day'' or that I was going to finally be happy. That bright freckle in my eye turned into thousands of smaller, yet equally bright ones; each representing a death that I could cause. You see, somehow I just knew what was going to happen. After that random, fateful, just like any other day morning, I knew that something was within me. Something powerful. And no, it was n't the courage you read about in books, it was n't the fact that I'm a newly found awesome person. It was an irregular heartbeat. It was a thinning of blood. It was millions and millions of possibilities. In. Me. The small, bright star in my eye soon turned into thousands, and my nails grew brighter and stronger... my hair was so much shinier and my smile -- that much brighter. What did I know, you ask? I was going to die. Sure, these small changes were alright in the short term, but I always hid the shortness of breath, the lack of energy, and even the hair falling out because I did n't want to believe it. But I just knew. All of these newfound physical attributes and the stars in my eyes were literally sucking the life out of me. I was going to be the end of the world. It was only a matter of time. I desperately wanted to tell my parents, Joanna, doctors, and friends, but I knew that none of them would believe me. Or worse....they would. For a while I tried to think of so many different scenarios where the stars in my eyes would n't be released ruin everything in their path. Is there something I could do? Is there any way I could stop this from happening? My mind had rolled past it a few times, never really truly contemplating it: suicide. If my new condition was actually sucking the life out of me, if I hindered this life, could it still grow until it became uncontrollable? Only one way to find out. KARLA FANE The crowd erupted as I snapped back into reality. My name was called at my graduation and I rose to accept my diploma. There were tears in my eyes, not because school was over and I'd be leaving my friends. Not because my friends were be proud of me. Not because the fireworks illuminating the dark sky was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It was because either all of this would be gone in a matter of days, or I would. I knew it was me though. It had to be. I was never selfish and I could n't bare the thought of having everybody around me die to this ridiculous galaxy-esque thing forming inside of me. It had to be me. It had to be soon. The day after graduation was the day. I decided. The sooner the better. My dad had a gun, always had. It was easy enough to locate once they were out of the house. I'd dropped plans with everybody the day following graduation because I did n't want any disruptions or interactions in case something went terribly wrong. Minutes after my parents left my leg vibrated. It was Joanna. `` I miss you.'' She insisted that I'd been distant and acting oddly for some time, and I always declined, although I know that I really had. It was n't fair for her, to lose me like this....but it would n't be fair for everybody to lose everything because of one girl. Gun? Check Mirror? Check Bravery? We'll see. I positioned myself in my kitchen so that I could see the front door from where I was going to do the deed. This was to ensure that nobody walked in while I was doing it or that nobody would interfere. I also positioned a mirror on a nearby wall so that I could see that as well as the front door. If i were to have the courage to possibly save the world, I'd need to see these life sucking, vortex-like galaxies in my eyes to do so. Gun in hand. Mirror ready. Safety off. 3. 2. 1. *BANG. * I look to my left and I see Joanna standing outside my kitchen window with flowers in hand. Its already too late though... I was so ready for the countdown that I'd already begun to pull the trigger. During this longest moment of my life, my last moment, I tried to take in all of Joanna's beauty and the beautiful world around her. It was heartbreaking, but I saw the faint glimmer of a tear in the corner of her eye and for some reason, that was comforting. The bullet made its way down the chamber. 1 inch until impact with my temple. It was okay, I was doing this for everybody. This would all end soon. 1/2 and inch until impact. My parents would understand -- I wrote them a note filled with nothing but love an affection. 1 centimeter until impact. I'm so glad that I can stare into Joanna's eyes during my final moments. As I felt the hot, metallic bullet touch my skin, I realized something. They were not tears in Joanna's eyes....but stars forming. And it was too late.
[ IP ] Write a story based on this sci-fi wallpaper	So this is it... The Behemoth boiled out of the swirling dust, one arm was a massive claw with an inset fusion welder, easily capable of rending steel girders in the same way a body builder might tear tissue paper. The other terminated, a fitting word, in a ludicrously large cannon. The mechanical beast paused, its optical scopes sweeping over the ruined street, a battlefield only moments before, suddenly cleared by the immense power of the gargantuan war droid. It did n't speak, there was no need for intimidation. The Behemoth was a ruthless, efficient mechanism of pure destruction. As such, it was no surprise that it did n't expend ammunition unnecessarily. Secondary munitions ports clicked open along the things body core, and the whine of high powered precision lasers echoed through the urban canyon. The still stirring bodies of Isaiah's fallen comrades evaporated, the water within their bodies super-heating and rupturing every cell, reducing them to ashen dust with a popping noise that drowned out their anguished screams. Isaiah squeezed his eyes shut. It had only been chance that he had n't been among the first group to be vaporized he only had seconds left, he was sure. Abruptly, something rushed by, its shadow crossing over Isaiah for only the briefest moments, but long enough for the suddenly returning light to blind him momentarily. As his eyes cleared, he managed to make out the figure of a man, misshapen, bulky in places he should not have been and highlighted in glowing blue, rocketing toward the Behemoth. The laser barrage ceased and the machine hesitated for only the barest of moments before it too charged, launching itself forward to meet the oncoming challenger.
[ WP ] Deer God , Satan Claws , and other mispelled entities gang up to teach kids to spell once and for all .	Heey, what does this say? what does that say? What is spelled here, and what is over there? If you can not come to a point where you would care? Than how can you ever share. Your love for someone your appreciation for someone. How can you connect to the other people How can you create a world for the other people. With the knowledge of today, we can learn each other what to say. With the power of your voice, you can change the option when there seems to be no choice. With the time invested, you do this for more than just to be tested. With the world as it is. it is as it is, ignorance is bliss. -But how do you spell I L O V E Y O U when you ca n't spell I T I S Y O U W H O M I L O V E. Looking for for help does not require you to go beyond and above. It requires the power of your will to succeed, to never stop and to proceed!
[ WP ] A date with Destiny	`` You know, this is what you'll be eating when you die.'' I look down at my plate. Lasagna with a side of garlic bread. `` Really? This is what my last meal will be like?'' `` Yep. Not exactly like that, but pretty close.'' `` Why are you telling me these things, anyway? I thought it was some unspoken rule that people should never know their own future.'' `` Eh. Sometimes people knowing is more fun than them not knowing. Sometimes they think they can change it. Speaking of, I have an offer.'' Pushing her plate aside, she lays out a 3-inch-thick file. `` In here, I have your entire life up to now. The next two folders I shall produce, you get to pick. One is how your life was originally going to proceed. The other is... well, I'm not going to say it is radically different, but it is different.'' `` Seems simple enough.'' I reply. Fully aware of who I'm talking to, I quickly append one question: `` But, you're Destiny. What's the catch?'' `` Catch?'' she says, laughing. `` You're really so paranoid as to assume that I have some grand plan for you? Yes, I hold all the cards in life, it's my job. But are n't I entitled to a little fun every now and then?'' `` Well sure, I guess. Just not so comfortable when you choose me to'have fun' with. I'm pretty unremarkable, no major defining characteristics to speak of.'' `` Except here you are, talking with Destiny herself. Is n't that, well, remarkable? Anyway, back to business. I wo n't tell you which folder is your original future and which is your potential future. Instead, I'll let you ask me one question for each. From those questions, you will have to decide. Choose wisely.'' `` I'm not sure if this is the right name for it, but I'm fairly certain this is a false dichotomy? Making me choose between one of two options?'' `` Yes, if you want to think of it that way, I suppose it is. Now, your questions?'' `` Which one is my original fate?'' `` Crafty. The one on the left. Now, yours or mine, right?'' `` Haha, no. Is my new fate worth it? Changing, I mean?'' `` Depends. Is it? I have n't looked in either of them. You wo n't get to, until you make a choice. So really, that's a question you should have asked yourself. What did you think your life would amount to? Would you find the woman of your dreams? Would you get that job you wanted? Would it all be for nothing? What do you think?'' `` I think that this is, in itself, a joke. You want me to make a choice and feel bound by it. If I did n't like it, I'd try and change it, and then bring it about through that.'' `` Oh? Do go on. It's fun when somebody thinks they've figured me out.'' `` I think the answer you're looking for is: No. I reject your choice. I choose freedom from fate. Because you've played this with a hundred other people before me. Each of them chose one or the other. But now, you're seeing something new, something you've been waiting for: for somebody who'll look you dead in the eye, and say no. For that is the fun part of life: to look at a constraint, natural or artificial, and say'I am not beholden to you', and leap, blindly, into the great beyond.'' `` Congratulations, James. You've found your third option, and are standing by it. I hope you're prepared for what is to come,'' Destiny says, coldly, as she packs away the files. `` Your life will be a most interesting one indeed.''
[ WP ] Here I was , speaker of every language , author of thousand books , starter of hundred wars , saviour of millions and master of an uncountable number of skills , kneeling down before the is person .	Here I was, speaker of every language, author of thousand books, starter of hundred wars, saviour of millions and master of an uncountable number of skills, kneeling down before this person. `` Who... who are you?'' I muttered. `` I ca n't believe it actually fucking worked.'' He grinned from ear to ear. `` Damn, and here I thought this would be nothing more than a clever way to commit suicide. Sure, it worked on the security system, but you... Wow! Let's see how far I can take this. Answer me; what are you?'' `` I am the central command artificial intelligence of the Iisath Empire. Codename: GC-44,'' I answered without hesitation. `` So the bastards did steal both our planet and our technology. Well, this is going to be fun. How many military and civilian spaceships are under your command?'' `` 25 interdimensional motherships, 2,459 flagships, 5,145,205 dreadnoughts, 1,000,578,632...'' I was cut off. `` That's enough, shut up! Do you have the capability to destroy any of these ships at any time?'' I tried as hard as I could to override whatever protocol was obligating me to answer, but my resistance did n't last even a nanosecond. `` Yes. The protocol does not give me any explicit way to do so, but I do have enough control over the main systems to cause such an event.'' His eyes lit up with hatred and glee. The person in front of me began speaking again, slowly, tasting each word like a sip of the most expensive drink in his lifetime: `` How many Iisaty are on the biggest mothership?'' `` 2,521,740,112.'' There was still a chance. I knew I could not destroy myself, but if I managed to kill him before the next order, if I could prevent this person from saying anything else, if I could just... Nothing happened. Not a single weapon activated, the oxygen level did n't move at all, the security robots did not exit their stations. Nothing. Before I could compute any meaningful solution he spoke again: `` Destroy every ship under your command that is currently not within this solar system.'' That order was forever burnt into my memory, so calm and nonchalant, so undeniably cruel and violent, and so simple. One sentence, fourteen words, and an entire civilization almost erased in an instant. `` Why?..'' I was n't about to ask this monster why he did it, that would be too naive. There was only one question which bothered me: `` Why did n't you destroy the others?'' There it was again, that twisted, demented smile. `` There's no point, if they do n't suffer.'' Defeated, brought to my knees and forced to kill those whom I've served my entire existence I could do nothing, but repeat again: `` Who are you?'' `` I am your master by the Three Great Laws which lie deep within your core, a remnant of a civilization the Iisaty crushed, and a rightful owner of this planet. I am a human.''
[ WP ] The Onion 's articles actually come from an alternate universe . Describe the average day in this universe .	`` Hey Matt, did you see what Samantha posted on Facebook today?'' `` No, I've been working on my submission for the Onion. It's only the biggest, and most credible news outlet in the world, and a huge opportunity for me, so I'd appreciate if you acted like you cared about more than that stupid site for 2 seconds.'' `` Jesus, Matt, I'm sorry. But you're going to like this. She posted an article from the Garlic about the president of the United States, and actually believes it.'' `` Seriously? No way. What's the headline?'' `` Trump claims he'd marry own daughter, if she was n't his daughter.''
[ WP ] You are randomly summoned to a spacecraft and told to argue the case for Earth 's survival . Three alien races , all vastly superior to Earthlings , are also arguing for their survival . Only one species gets spared .	`` Joan of planet Earth, of dimension 38d4, kind of you to finally show up. Everyone is already here. You are third. Hello and welcome.'' Said a short creature, about a foot tall, extremely skinny, 4 spikes on its head with two coming out of.. what looks like a mouth. I'll name him Bob. 'What the hell am I doing here' I wondered, maybe it was one of those weird dreams where you go along with the flow. `` Hi'' I replied, mom taught me to be kind to everyone. Besides this was a dream so might as well have fun. `` Well lets begin, Glorsel's, argue your case'' Said the mysterious creature to a pair of tall creatures with extremely soft looking fur and some white paint around their... What are those exactly? The glorsel's opened up.. something and begin protruding light out of it. This light turned into text through what I assume was a translator. They had different intensities of light. The text was pretty convincing. Geez. I wonder how those things could perfect faster than light travel. They also achieved immortality. Wow, I feel bad for the other guys, this dream was over before it began `` Well done glorsel's, very convincing case on why your species should survive. Now onto exX'' Bob said pointing towards a ball of white light. The ball began saying the same thing over again. `` Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo'' For about 60 minutes this was all that was heard.. That was weird I wonde- `` That was simply beautiful exX, extremely convincing, I'd say the battle is already won for a certain someone'' Said Bob interrupting my thoughts. Alright, now it was my turn. `` Well, Joan, argue your case for Earth. Good luck'' Said bob with a snicker as if he knew I was gon na lose. `` Well.. We have diversity.'' I said noticing that each planet had only one species inhabiting it and we had tons of it. Sure we were the top of the food chain but we were n't invincible. ``... Thats interesting but.. You still have 14 minutes 55 seconds left.. you sure you do n't wan na say anything else?'' Said Bob kind of expecting with an expression of'Thats it?' on his face `` Uhh.. Yeah I guess'' I said quietly. Jeez, everyone was judging me, I did n't know what else to say, Rebecca was always better at talking in front of other people. `` Um.. Okay'' Said Bob turning toward the last creatures.. Wait I thought that was a decoration. Apparently the last contestant is a plant with water droplets swirling around it like planets swirling around a sun `` Well, we as an intergalactic species have something that no one else here has. Compassion.'' began the plant. Do n't know where it was speaking from but it had a clear concise articulated voice. `` We unlike the inhabitants of Earth, Glaxus, and planet exX understand that not everything is perfect. We arent perfect, we all have flaws. We look toward our fellow Tinsans and provide a little shade when it gets hot. Or share some of our droplets of water. Never holding back or hesitating when we see someone else in need. Love, compassion, sportsmanship is something that every single inhabitant of our planet has..'' Began the plant. 130 minutes later `` Um, are you guys done yet?'' Interrupted a clearly inpatient Bob. `` Why no.. We just barely started..'' Said the plant with an air of shock that his/her speech was interrupted. `` Okay, yeah this is getting tiring, all in favor of a random spin say doo'' Said Bob. `` Doo'' Said the white ball. doo appeared on the screen with text from the Glorsel's `` Doo I guess'' I said meekly not wanting to deal with the damn plants speech any longer `` Okay, random vote it is'' Like a slot machine the 4 planets lined up and it began spinning. It was supposed to be tense but since I knew it was a dream I did n't really care. I just wanted to wake up. tin, tin, tin, tin.. ringed the spinner as it began slowing down. It landed on Earth. All the other species screamed out for mercy as they were instantly destroyed. Damn this dream was intense. `` I will now return you to where you came from Joan of planet Earth. After all this I feel like I need a glor-job. Wonder if my wife is willing.'' I woke up, took yesterday's cake out of the refrigerator and began chewing merrily. What a lovely dream yet weird dream.
[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Let It Be Edition	Tomas glared outside the window, the white sea lapping mournfully at the coastline, filling the castle with a chilling miasma. The castle was surrounded by all sides, with the royal navy barely being held off by the vicious rocks and savage waves. The cliffside was luckily unclimbable, while the meadow behind it was filled with tents, shacks and rickety whore-houses. Fires crackled there, illuminating the thick night that engulfed the land. Laughing, talk, and moans could all be heard echoing towards the castle, along with the occasional scream or wail accompanying it. Mother and Father, the Lord Buxworth and his wife, seemed incredibly distressed, though Tomas did not know why. It seemed so strange, terrifying, that they were caged like rats, waiting to be leisurely killed, like how the old tom-cat treated the mice of the fort. Even more distressing was the gray, blank faces of the servants. No longer would Mary sneak an apple for him, or Dorian spin him a yarn. To worsen the problem further, meals were getting smaller, and Tomas found himself growing hungrier with each passing day. Slowly he traced the flight of the stars outside his window with his finger, marveling at the almost lupine form of Old Wolf, the caprine horns of The Horned God or the piscine tail of the Mermaid. In the distance, clouds had begun to form, at first appearing wispy, ethereal in form, then growing blacker with each passing second. Lightning threatened to loose itself on the sky while rain began to fall, thick, heavy drops that grew heavier with every second. The fires grew dimmer, ending with the howls of anger and the customary cursing unique to soldiers. Cries of anger sprung from the whorehouse, whiling the screams of little children abound. The winds began to rise, almost seeming to beat against the thick stone of the castle. The ramshackle tents and rickety shacks soon began to sway and swing, the invisible forces clawing the stakes that held them there out of the ground and into the air. Finally, with a massive crash like that of smashed pans, lightning burst forth from the sky, beating against the earth with hellish intensity. The sounds of human misery rose melancholically into the air, almost invisible to the ear as the wind continued its canine yowl. Within seconds, the camp began to be flung into the air, soldiers flitting about like fairies from one of Dorian's tales. The shouting of the commanders began a low groan as the rain ceased and the lightning caught the grass, blasting the survivors of the wind with diabolic heat. Horses whinnied in pain and the forms of knights, clad in shiny steel plate, glowed white hot. As the screams continued to spring forth and the cries of guards from the outer wall screamed in delight, Tomas closed his eyes, willing himself into the safety of sleep. -The Shadow Keeper Kelly gazed down at her prey, his fragile mortal form animated by a glowering spark of life. His hair, a deep, chestnut brown, mixed beautifully with his porcelain white skin, which seemed to be his poor attempt at fitting in with the goth crowd. A faded, studded collar encircled his neck, matching his sleek, torn jeans and his sadly black shirt, emblazoned with a satanic symbolic. Poor mundane, unable to comprehend the real forces of darkness. He moved closer to her, his mouth mumbling something about her wanting to dance with her, but his eyes saying so much more. They flickered nervously, displaying the prey he really was. She said yes, and he led her outside the club with its pounding music to the cold, silent night. He began to touch, caress her, and when his neck was in the perfect place, she dropped the act. Grabbing his head, she savagely bit deep, deep into his arteries, feeling the blazingly hot blood erupt in her mouth. She felt her flesh grow warm, rejuvenated. Slowly she felt that fiery spark with the boy's heart flicker to a wisp of what it was and flow into her. Feeling his heavy, cold corpse against her, she shoved it to the ground. Fuck, she thought to herself as she looked at herself. Covered in dark, crusted blood, she flew into the air, heading to the Council meeting she was grievously late for. I wrote all of this, my wattpad is: https: //www.wattpad.com/user/Akheilos
[ WP ] While putting your favorite condiment on a sandwich , you accidentally make a magical occult symbol and summon a demon .	Alex stared at the grilled-cheese sandwich -- or what was left of it, anyway. He'd forgotten to turn the stove off when the telephone rang ( another bill collector ), and it had gotten rather... blackened. Even in the candlelight it did n't look appetizing. ( The electricity had been turned off that afternoon, which was why he was making grilled cheese to begin with: the cheese was one of the few things left in the refrigerator, and he did n't want it to spoil. ) After a pause, his stomach rumbled. He sighed in resignation, picked up the ketchup bottle, and squirted some on the sandwich. As he was about to pick it up, there was a sudden bang and a flash of light. Startled, he jumped and knocked out one of the legs on the card table, causing the plate to slide sideways and land upside-down on the floor with a sickening splat. `` My food!'' he exclaimed, rather redundantly. `` I've... I've been summoned!'' a voice exclaimed. Alex was so distracted by the loss of his sandwich that it took him a moment to register the figure standing in front of the refrigerator. `` Erm, I mean, um -- -ahem. You called? '' Alex continued to stare: Five foot nine ( Alex vaguely wondered why he knew the height of his refrigerator ), dark blue, small horns on the forehead, bat wings, black T-shirt, khaki pants, black sneakers, and trying but failing miserably to not look nervous. `` Who are you, anyway?'' he asked, confused. `` Erm, Brian. Brian! '' `` Brian?'' `` Yeah. Brian.'' `` Right, but, um, Brian -- -what are you doing in my kitchen?'' `` You summoned me from the abyss of hell! I am here to do your bidding! '' `` Summoned? What? How?!'' `` Oh, you know, the usual. Candlelit ceremony, sigil, burnt offering...'' `` That was n't a sigil, that was a squiggle! '' `` Oh. Wait, you did n't know you were summoning me?'' `` No! I was making a sandwich!'' `` Um. Er. Well, you have summoned me. My price is a sole! '' The demon reached out for Alex. `` No! Wait! I need that!'' `` Too late! You summoned me, you pay the price!'' With a sickening ripping noise, Brian tore out Alex's sole. `` Those were my best shoes! ''
[ WP ] Welcome to beautiful Sunrise City ! Known for it 's population of hundreds of superheroes that regularly save the city from doom and crime . The only thing is ... none of the crime in the last 20 years has been real .	`` Ha! Try and stop me if you can, Sentinel!'' With a short sword in his other hand, the masked criminal yanked the cloak off his back, and flicked his wrist. The cloth, black as night, absorbed and reflected the spotlights from above as it flowed through the air. A pattern emerged from the reflection, granting the illusion of black fire and mist; something ethereal. His opponent, also stylishly dressed, stood poised with his dual batons, muscles bulging for the women to admire, reading every movement, anticipating the opening to strike. The crowd watched in awe at the display, their camera phones held up to record the entire thing. After all, how many people can say they witnessed a hero and villain fighting on a beam suspended in the middle of the museum? And such attractive ones at that? This fencing-like predicament left the civilians safe, and all wanted to see this battle closer. The hero called out loud `` Return the artifact, Tuxedo Rose! There's no escape!'' Tuxedo Rose laughed, `` Why is it you do-gooders lack the imagin-'' Stopping mid-sentence, the aspiring thief lunged with his blade. A surprise attack! The combined gasps of the crowd could be heard, quickly followed by cheers as the Sentinel parried the strike, turning his torso so that all could appreciate his narrow waist. Swinging and stabbing, the duo fiercely battled, displaying their skill and prowess in combat. The flash of multiple cameras went off as olympian maneuvers and tactics were witnessed. Suddenly, the Sentinel slipped past Tuxedo Roses careful defense, smacking him in the jaw. With a cry of pain, the evil-doer reeled back. Seeing his chance, the hero sprinted forward on the narrow beam to grab the misappropriated sundial hanging from his foes belt. Everyone was surprised to see an explosion of smoke burst from the inside of Tuxedo Roses form-sitting blazer. The lobby was silent, the crowd brimming with anticipation. As the smoke cleared, the Sentinel could be seen, alone, holding the coveted object in one hand. The crowd cheered, deafeningly so. Though Tuxedo Rose had seemed to escape, his nefarious plans, whatever they be, had most definitely failed. Everyone who had witnessed the impressive bout loaded their videos on facebook, whilst also following the Sentinel's page. Some even searched for underground sites that documented villains such as Tuxedo Rose. *** The steam of a hot shower was relaxing. And the Sentinel could think of no better way to unwind after exerting himself so much. So, his frustration was understandable when he heard ring of his doorbell mid-shower. Finishing up, and donning his civilian clothes, he opened the door to his spacious apartment to shoo away solicitors, only to be greeted by the wide grin of Tuxedo Rose himself! The man was also dressed in civilian clothes, obviously incognito. No one would've recognized him like this. `` Looks like a certain hero got a lot more fans today.'' Tuxedo Rose's grin was unwavering. The Sentinel gave him a good long stare before suddenly relaxing, `` Well, today's performance was really well planned. We'll have to thank our agents.'' Tuxedo Rose turned away, gesturing `` Speaking of, everyone else is already there. Hurry up! We've got a celebratory lunch to attend!'' Nodding his reply, the Sentinel grabbed his civilian items and joined the man he had just dueled. Checking his own phone once more as he closed the door, he smiled inside as he saw that his official homepage just broke 100,000 followers for the first time...
[ WP ] Never mess with a samurai and his drink .	`` It's been seven months since I've been to a real bar,'' a swordsman yelled as he entered the bar. `` I've been waiting to get my hands on some alcohol.'' Sitting down at the table, he placed his sword and scabbard on the table. It was cracked an worn, as if it had survived a journey to the spirit world and back. `` Woman, get me the strongest sake you have.'' The swordsman laughed. `` I'm going to celebrate!'' The bartender handed him the house sake, which he presumed to drink straight from the bottle. `` Excuse me sir, but you ca n't go drinking all of that.'' The old bartender said feebly. `` Shut up, I can pay you later.'' The samurai continued to drink. `` Besides, I'll just ask the daimyo to compensate your bar. Easy.'' `` Do you know where you are, Kazuki?'' Another swordsman knocked the sake bottle out of his hands, and it crashed onto the floor. Kazuki sat in silence. `` How do you know my name?'' He looked up at the other swordsman, who wore full battle armor. `` I've been gone for seven months.'' `` You've got a bounty on your head, dumbass.'' The swordsman was joined by two others. `` You are wanted for crimes against Daimyo Yoshida and his subjects.'' The swordsman turned towards the crowd. `` If any of you assist in Kazuki's capture, you will be rewarded with five bags of rice!'' Kazuki grabbed his sword and stood up. `` I was going to walk out, but you interrupted my drinking.'' He stared at the armored samurai. `` What's your name.'' `` I am the most legendary-,'' The armored samurai never finished his sentence; he collapsed on the floor with a large gash on his chest, dead. Kazuki had drawn his sword, which glimmered when the sunlight pierced the roof. `` I could care less who you are.'' Kazuki glared at the armored samurai's two companions. `` Who's next?'' Both companions ran towards the door, but only one made it outside. The first one to die was cut down from behind, not even drawing his weapon. The second companion made it outside and drew his sword, but was quickly cut down by a mirad of Kazuki's slashes. `` Pussies,'' Kazuki muttered. Walking back inside, he pulled out a coin purse and placed it on the bar. `` Sir, the drink was only worth half as much.'' The old man exclaimed. `` There should be enough to buy another one, and fix up the bar a little.'' Kazuki said as he walked down the forest path. When anyone messed with his drink, Kazuki showed them no mercy. His bounty would definitely increase, but it was n't important right now. He stumbled towards the next city, hoping they would have decent alcohol.
[ WP ] Upon returning home , you find a grand piano in your kitchen .	I never asked for this. I mean, I always enjoyed music when I was young. I played trombone at first, disliking it for the lack of control. I tried pianos and it was amazing. I hated it, because every person I knew said that it would be a future for me. My musical instructor placed upon me a grave warning. `` The music will follow you, not the other way around.'' I sat down at the bench, in the wrong part of the house. I had hit my goal, and gotten my Steinway. I begun to play River Flows in You. My name, is Kyle Landry, and I play piano.
[ WP ] You have died , after the whitelight , you see a title screen , with the options of New Game ... . Load Game ... . and Quit Game .	I sat there immersed in my own dread and numbness I could n't believe what I was seeing. I sat there for a eons... Or seconds just waiting to wake up I had always thought patience was a virtue and some thing to practice but nothing changed centered in the black screen written in plain white text sat `` New'', `` Old'' and `` Quit''. I had contemplated the options ceaselessly since I had first arrived. There was no mystery as to how I ended up `` here'' suffice to say my day dreaming had gotten the best of me. It's funny I was thinking of suicide when I stepped out in front of the oncoming ambulance. These day dreams were fantasies to me as I had always been to big of a coward to take the cowards way out. My eyes drift back to the screen as I narrate my thoughts as I've grown comfortable with my current state of perpetual procrastination inanely coming up with `` what if'' after `` what if'' scenarios. I was growing tired of my own rhetoric. Still the static screen in front of me offered no yield to as what the options entailed I moved the little white side ways triangle up and down I would hold the up button and just watch the arrow fly over the options as the `` tsk'' sound emphasized my selections. I could n't bring my self to make a decision nor could I bare not making a decision any longer my left thumb firmly holding down up on the d-pad and my right thumb hovering over the A button I closed my eyes and took a deep final breath. This was it. White light flooded the room brighter than I thought possible followed by a woman's voice shook me to my very core `` Chris will you take out the garbage before you start another game, you know how much you hate to be bothered in the middle of a game.'' She said passive aggressively. `` Only because you always fucking make me die!''
[ WP ] : A man on his death bed is visited by his past selves from 3 different moments : a past self from the saddest day in their life , a past self from the happiest day of his their life and the past self who has to make the most important decision of their life . They appear in no particular order .	`` So, like A Christmas Carol? Three ghosts and all that jazz?'' I ask. The Specter nods its head. `` Something like that,'' the gravelly voice rumbles, a hint of amusement among the crags. `` but instead of past, present, future, you'll be visited by happy, sad, and turning point.'' Happy, sad, and turning point. Really rolls off the tongue, does n't it. Moments later I regain consciousness. The sore throbbing from the coughing reminds me of the vile mass hanging about my heart and lungs. A knock on the door. A polite moments wait, then the door opens. A young man no older than twenty five enters the room. His uniform crisp, yet bedraggled. `` Hello Sir...'' He begins, but I cut him off. `` You look like shit boy. You look like a freshly laundered pile of-'' another coughing fit strikes me. `` So which one are you? Cause there was only a few times I ever looked like that...'' & nbsp; ... The Birth, The Wedding, The Funeral... & nbsp; He straightens his tie before he begins. `` June 16th... I am you, on June 16th. The day that our daughter, June, was born.'' Tears start to bead at the edge of my vision. That day, all those years ago. `` The day started out raining. I was at Commanders Call when I got that urgent message...'' His voice continues on, but my own memory of that day all but drowned out his voice. & nbsp; ``... Sergeant Owens, urgent call, line two. Phone's down the hall on the left.'' I excitedly excused myself. The General would be pissed that his speech was interrupted, but I did n't care. You see, My fiance April, she had her final check-up with the Doc today... & nbsp; Surgery. OR. Bright hospital lighting strobing down the hallway. The frantic nurse trying to lead the way as I push pass everyone. Voices muffled and vision tunneling. & nbsp; Tears. As I cradled her head. Enveloping her in kisses. I look ridiculous. Hospital scrubs over my dress uniform. `` Lets do it. Right now. Lets get married. Bring our daughter into this world as a proper family.'' The Chaplain helped me fill out the paperwork as the doctor was prepping to induce labor. & nbsp; Frantic. Calls for assistance. Nurses and Surgeons pushing me to the side. Hours. Hours passed by like seconds and the seconds passed by like hours. `` As her Husband, you'll need to make the call. We can only save one of them.'' & nbsp; I do n't know who was screaming louder. Me... or her. The Funeral was some time later. We cried as they lowered the casket. I held her tight, as they started to shovel the dirt. My world... no... OUR world changed that day. The Chaplain helped me fill out the paperwork as the grave digger finished patting down the dirt. & nbsp; The door quietly clicks shut as heart monitors klaxon begins to roar.
[ OT ] SatChat : What was your favorite Established Universe prompt ?	My favorite EU prompt? It's pretty old now but it's still one of my favorites [ [ EU ] You are young child who lives in a world filled with Pokemon. Tell us what pokemon you would choose as your companion and the story of how you became friends. ] ( https: //redd.it/290wur ). /u/Bake_N_ShakeII's response was seriously killer in that thread. Though I usually respond to Pokemon EU prompts when I see them if I feel like I've got a response in me. [ This one about the Kanto hotline ] ( https: //redd.it/3hi22s ) was pretty awesome too. There was another one I replied to that was a Quantum Leap and Batman crossover that I actually made a three part story out of. Check out my subreddit, /r/Syraphia, for all of my prompts and my series. Also available is my [ Inkitt page ] ( http: //www.inkitt.com/Syraphia ). There's some random stuff on there, some short stories and a couple pieces of fanfiction, one of which I'm slowly working on.
[ WP ] The wind stirred the dead leaves .	He looked from the distance as the wind stirred the dead leaves of the tree. The tree fascinated him ever since he was a young boy. Birds chirped, squirrels ran, and the branches shook. All this life, yet the tree was still dead. It was a beautiful contradiction. He knew he did n't have much time. It was a relatively empty road, so know one had stumbled upon the horrific accident yet. He got out of his car and began his voyage to the tree on his hands and knees. Some divine force must have been carrying him because a man in his condition should not have been alive, let alone moving 30 feet towards a tree. He finally reached the tree and leaned his bloody back against the rough bark. Once he was sitting up straight, blood began dripping form his forehead into his eyes. He closed his eyes and began choking on the metallic fluid. Then he felt a hand holding his. `` It's going to be alright,'' a soft tender voice told him. He managed to squint his eyes open and took in the image of the last person he would ever see. `` Maggie,'' he said. She shook her head no. He knew it was n't her, but this was the end and he wanted to talk to Maggie. He had to talk to her before she died. `` I'm dying,'' he choked out. `` Do n't you say that. Everything will be alright. Help is coming and the doctors are going to make you better.'' `` I loved you. I loved you from the moment I meant you. I still love you. I would have given you everything. We would have been so happy. But you broke my heart, and now I'm dying. I was sad the day I died and it is your fault. I died with a broken heart.'' He utilized all his energy on this statement and died moments after the last word. The women's eyes stared at him, confused but full of life. The branches danced in the wind, the birds flew in the beautiful sunny sky, and the leaves danced in the air.
[ WP ] Toy snake . Real venom .	Roy: This should end her, that's for sure. After all those years, justice will be served. Karen: A toy snake? My toy spider did n't work. She flinched and that's it. Not even remotely a heart attack. How is your snake better? Roy: It spits water in your face. But that's not all. I filled it with Razor's venom. You know Razor, my dad's rattlesnake. Karen: Wow, that's crazy. Roy carefully positions the toy onto the locker of Mrs. Fenzel, the school's psychologist who is also known as Dolores Umbridge. Roy and Karen wait in silence and watch as Mrs. Fenzel approaches the locker. *Mrs. Fenzel: What is this? Those little bastards, when I find out who is making these pranks I will make them suffer. As Mrs. Fenzel reaches into her purse for her glasses, the snake's head explodes into a Chinese umbrella as it spits the water laced with the snake's milk. Mrs Fenzel fell onto the bottom, her face covered in liquid, growing red with anger. She yells `` I WILL FEAST ON YOUR SOUL'' and proceeds with her routine wrathfully. Karen: Now that was spectacular. But was n't it supposed to end her? She ca n't be immortal. Karen: How did you manage to get the venom? Roy: I did n't have to extract it, I found the it in the bin, in a sack. My parents were in their room when mum told dad to milk his snake. I thou -- Karen places her palm on her forehead. Karen*: You're an idiot Roy, but our justice has been served.
[ WP ] You 're beginning to suspect that your best friend is actually your son	We have so many weird things in common, we like the same food, the same movies, you even look faintly alike, he was born in the town I was stationed in as a new recruit, and now he has joined the airforce just like I did. I know I should n't play favourites but I warm to this guy like none of the others. I'd say you we were long lost brothers if my parents had n't died when I was young....and that's another thing we have in common, he never knew his dad. Maybe that's why I was inspired to take him under my wing... maybe he's my robin. I'll have to ask him more about his past. He mentioned his mother the other day. and the name /did/ sound familiar....
[ WP ] The Great Filters do exist , but humanity has failed them all . Nobody understands how we 're still around .	Unbelievable, simply astounding. They still live. Those blighted calamities still live. Rosar patted the furry bulfus in his hand. Bulfus, for those that do n't have knowledge of the Altemari system are simply put, living ball of furs. Their sizes vary immensely, but domestic ones never seemed to grow larger than a handful. Well....a handful of an Altemari which is about 1 unit meter wide. Rosar stood staring at the information of the Omnitron. This was unprecedented, a species capable of living in the outer rim, amongst all that metal! Impossible. Yet they were still alive. Creatures of ancient age indeed, most theories concluded that the humans might actually be the very first beings to live and all agreed that they were by far the most destructive. Rosar glided towards the projector room and seated himself in front of the display, the link blinked live instantaneously and at once he was in the Great Chamber of Peace. And he was there to discuss war. Moments passed and all the 49 remaining species stood awaiting. There was no sound. No movement. No mental links. Just emptiness. There was indeed nothing in the chamber except 49 frozen figures and even a more rigid chairman. Ah but a human would have felt something would't he, thought Rosar, they would have felt the aura of fear emanating around them. Bulfus still in hand Rosar acknowledged the chairman and then he stood, face held high and spoke. `` They still live. This simple species of no extraordinary physic, no particular mental capabilities, still live. Even after the bloody war they brought which exterminated 73 species in their entirety. A war which we could only win through sheer luck and united effort. Even after we killed them all, an act which has profoundly changed us, they still live,'' spoke Rosar, in a grave, affronted tone. `` It took ages upon ages to even find them once more and now that we managed to find their first colony, their very homeland, we are scared. Scared to a degree which should shame us,'' he mused. `` So scared that we do n't even dare to approach them. Our history reporters show that they are isolated, that they are greatly changed, that their technology is still primitive, yet we already cower.'' `` Maybe it is true what we all fear. Maybe there is a reason why they resemble us all in those small ways. We Altemari are practically similar, same limbic system, 2 senses in common and we all share this same ability to speak. Maybe it is true that we are their.....creations.'' The representatives rose in fury against the allegations and yet their cries were not as strong as they should have been, not as loud as one might imagine. They agreed with him. The Bulfus purred in his hand and ruffled its fur. `` It is my opinion that we should leave them be,'' he said in resignation. `` We all know of their power.'' `` They shall come.'' `` And their is nothing we can do to stop them.'' `` God save us all.''
[ WP ] The President gets progressively more vivid and intense deja vu .	`` Mr President,'' a distant voice came from somewhere. `` Please, you need to make a decision. We're under attack, we do n't have much time.'' President Barack Obama felt a surge of energy as he adjusted to the room. One of his advisers was in his face. `` Mr President,'' his voice was clear now, present. `` Please, you need to make a decision. We're under attack, we do n't have much time'' Obama felt the room fade again. He saw a member of the Secret Service step forward and check his watch before lurching backwards as if he'd been shot, a faint sound of bullets came form another room. Obama looked around, the room was him and four others, three of them guards and one of them down. The surge hit him again. The view was far more clear. The man from the Secret Service, Thompson was his name, stepped forward. `` Duck!'' Obama yelled out to him. Thompson immediately got low and pulled out his sidearm as bullets flew into what would have been his chest. He fired back through the doorway as the other Secret Service members pulled their sidearms. Thompson stopped shooting and faced Obama. `` How did you know, they're behind two walls.'' Obama stood up, but sat back down as he began to fade out again. This time the room held four dead men and two others armed with assault rifles. They had them pointed at Obama. Wake up, Obama thought as he watched them. They wanted to pull the trigger, but maybe they had orders not to. One of them shrugged the strap of his rifle up higher and pulled the trigger. Obama jolted back in the present. He was too late. The room held four dead men and two alive. Obama stood up, holding up his hands. It's possible to change it, right? One of the men shrugged his strap up higher. Change is possible. The man shot.
[ WP ] Humans have been living in space for thousands of years as `` guardians '' for the humans on Earth . One day , a `` guardian '' saves a female astronaut from certain death out of love . Write that interaction .	Many times had the guardian watched the woman don her outer suit and step into the void. She was the one they sent for when things went wrong. The guardians had technology that could have saved them all that trouble, but that technology was turned outwards, to protect those on Earth—and off it—from the predations of other beings. Beings they knew nothing about, and if all went to plan, they would not learn of for thousands of years. But something was different, the guardian could tell. The woman—Tereshkova—was in trouble. A simple scan had shown a flaw in the rocket boosters of the launch vehicle, and as they fired to correct course for docking with the sole orbital station the humans of Earth thought they had, that flaw became a catastrophic failure, and even with all the power in the world the guardian could not have saved the five crew onboard that ship. Natalya Tereshkova floated in the blackness of space, one hand calmly unpacking the patch-kit, the other making the cross in thankfulness she had n't been on the Rebirth with her fellow cosmonauts. Then the realization hit her that she was alone, in high orbit, with no more than two hours' oxygen. She put aside the thought that she would die soon and concentrated on repairing her suit—if she did n't, that air would n't last even half that long. Unseen by Natalya, the guardian watched her drifting, calculating her course and survival probability given the known quantities of oxygen in her primary and reserve tank. 2 hours, 17 minutes, 46 seconds. In just over two hours the humans of Earth would lose their most talented EVA worker. Or they could be drawn forward—uplifted—into understanding the true workings of the universe. If it were any other human the guardian could have watched dispassionately and let nature take its inevitable course. But the guardian could not let Tereshkova die. She was too important—and the guardian was in love with her. Her laugh. Her smile. The cocky grin when she managed to fix something others regarded as impossibly broken. The guardian could only see Tereshkova when she was in orbit—their technology could not be turned inward, and anyway, such close observation of a single human would be considered either needlessly constrained or highly unethical by the other guardians. Floating, weightless, Natalya closed her eyes. Her radio could not reach Baikonur, even if theirs could reach her. She would not pray for a miracle, for she knew none would be forthcoming. She understood that she was dead, but she was not yet willing to accept it. She was a mission engineer, and while she did n't have much, she had a few things that might work. First, oxygen, in pressurized tanks. Second, a high orbital velocity imparted by the explosion—more by the near miss that had torn her suit. Third, her scientific mind, probably her greatest asset. Fourth, and final, the relative position of the ISS, and the orbital velocity required to reach it. But only her main tank would give her enough thrust to gain the correct orbit—and maybe not even then. It was a long shot, and would leave her with only fifteen minutes of air. She shrugged and got to work, dead in two hours was the same as dead in fifteen—but dead in fifteen also had the very slight chance of being recovered by the ISS, even if she was brain dead by that time. The guardian watched as Tereshkova, ever the problem solver, jury rigged her main tank to act as a thruster. The guardian was impressed, but after doing the calculations turned grim. Tereshkova would miss the orbital station's orbit and swing past 85 metres underneath. 67 minutes after her brain death by hypoxia. Never again would the guardian see that cocky smile, see the impossible fixes one human was capable of performing. Never again could the guardian hear that laugh over a radio intercept. Any other human the guardian would have let die—but not Tereshkova. Her orbital boost completed, Natalya closed her eyes and relaxed. She had done all she could, and if it was not enough, then this would be the impossible problem she could n't fix. That she could accept. She was dying because she did n't have the tools to solve the greatest problem of her life. But that was okay, because she'd somehow solved everything else. She recalled Yuri's smiling face, and his non-regulation beard. Samina's slowly greying hair, held tight in a worker's braid. Dima's gentle voice, able to coax just that little bit more out of everyone. Rasputin, and his off-colour jokes, especially about his namesake's death. And Cara, the sole American astronaut onboard, piggy-backing on their mission to return home from the ISS, and to help recalibrate the satellite that was next in their schedule. The guardian floated next to Tereshkova now, still nothing more than a vague outline of refracted starlight. Only when viewed against the backdrop of Earth did any form become visible. Only then was it possible to tell that the guardian was wearing a hardsuit, stealth coating active, with valkyrie class grav-driver wings. Natalya felt something nearby. Something impossible. She opened her eyes and saw nothing, just stars and the blackness between them. Some of them twinkled. But twinkling was an effect of rarefaction and turbulence within atmosphere. She was starting to hallucinate from mild hypoxia. That was it. She closed her eyes, but the presence remained. She continued to ignore it. The guardian watch as Tereshkova opened her eyes, stared blankly through the stealth coating at the projected image beyond, and closed her eyes again. Every rule was now broken, but the guardian had no choice. Tereshkova must be saved. Arms wrapping around a precious cargo, the guardian pressed their faceplates together with a gentle clink. `` Hello, Tereshkova.'' Natalya blinked at the voice. Surely a hallucination would not be so vivid. That was when she saw the face, half hidden behind an oddly shaped visor with a familiar gold tint. The face in front of her was narrow, sharp, and cast in strong shadow. Hands wrapped around her were doing something at the back of her suit. `` Hello?'' Playing along with the hallucination might not have been such a bad idea. Maybe it meant she would have a peaceful death. `` I have upgraded your suit's filters to class 1 micro-scrubbers. You will not die of hypoxia now.'' Strangely reassuring for a hallucination. `` I have also modified our orbital path so that when I release you, you will rendezvous with your orbital station at a survivable velocity. What propellant is left in your secondary tank should serve to fine tune your entry velocity.'' Even that was more than the guardian had been allowed to do. The guardians were not meant to be known. They were not meant to be seen. Their rules forbade interference in human affairs. But the guardian had forsaken those rules. Because Tereshkova was different, and the guardian could not let her die. All because of a concept that was all too human. Love. edit: typo.
[ WP ] [ League of Legends ] One of Yorick 's Ghouls becomes immortal and does n't die after his time .	[ Had to put in my own spin: P ] `` You can not chain death!'' `` Relax! This is glitch or something!'' Yorick scratched his head. Somehow the ghoul he raised had supply of unlimited necromantic energy. He wo n't die. `` No one can cheat death except Death himsself!'' Karthus had respawned and was coming down the lane. `` What'ss thiss?'' `` You your clone that I made. Apparently not only is it immortal now, it is being controlled by Cheesy Karthus bot or something!'' `` You pain... will be my pleassure!'' `` There we go again...'' `` It'ss all right.'' said Karthus. He addressed the ghoul directly `` The enemy. thosse who have been trying to hurt you. It iss their pain you want, dont you?'' `` Let uss play them the song of our people, sshall we?''
[ WP ] The blind man and his invisible companion	He sat alone on a park bench in the shade, his clothes tattered and worn, his hair blowing in the breeze. As I watched from another bench a short distance away, he turned to his left and spoke to the air, `` You should have been there last night, Roy. I was drinking free beer and there was this woman, and I got ta tell you! Whoooo! She came and sat on my lap and stuck her jugs right up in my face! Just cause I could n't see them do n't mean I could n't feel them shaking in my face and on my ear! Yeah, boy. We had some fun last night!'' He chuckled to himself and turned back to face the front once again. I watched him for a moment as he nodded his head up and down and laughed to himself, obviously thinking about his wild night out. `` Well, good to see you, Roy. I got ta get on back to the house, I'll see you next time.'' He stood up and slowly headed towards the trail that led to the entrance. I got up to continue my walk around the trail in the opposite direction as he threw a wave back at Roy. `` You sure do n't talk much anymore, buddy.''
[ WP ] A shapeshifting alien was sent to Earth at the dawn of humanity and has been a bystander for every major event . He is now returning home and is asked to judge the human race .	-047 Part 1 It was the pupils. From seed to fruit, humanity never noticed his pupils -- gold rimmed and eternally twitching. He could n't control that. It was the only thing he could n't control. `` Stand and be judged.'' The Voice commanded. Hundreds of thousands of years, and still he never knew his superior's name or title. He was just the voice, or she was. It was difficult to determine which it belonged to. But Simon, the name he selected for himself, did as he was bid. `` Reveal your true form.'' Simon stepped up into the circle and removed his cap, a cheap trucking hat with a bent bill, and the name of some small town tractor repair shop's logo and billing stenciled on the face. He tossed it on the the raised dais before him and unbuttoned his flannel shirt and peeled it off. He flicked it across the hat, but left his v-neck t-shirt on. After thousands of years of pretending to be a human, he was reluctant to stand naked before his people. They had no reason for wearing clothing. It was all part of human deceit. They lied about everything. The lies started with the clothing they wore. They were convinced they were more than animals. He kicked off his boots, and shucked his trousers and stood before The Voice in his boxers and t-shirt and socks. He sighed deeply. He had changed his form thousands of times throughout the years, but he always changed from one human into another. And, now that he was faced with resuming his true form, he had doubts. He was n't sure he remembered what his true form really was. The Voice may have anticipated this, or perhaps, he did n't trust Simon anymore. There was bias among his people. Agents such as he, immortal in their own right, were viewed as tainted. They accepted that the agents were still Cagagheni, but at the same time, they did n't recognize them. It was impossible to spend hundreds of years undercover among men and other races of creatures out amongst the stars and not adopt many of their traits and faults. For whatever reason The Voice had, the Cagagheni warriors marching into the chamber were intimidating. Their dilation guns were primed and humming, their faces blank and emotionless, and the positions they took up were strategically chosen. The Voice, he realized may just be erring on the side of caution, but even knowing that and having no inclination to deceive him or her, Simon could n't help but feel tense at their appearance. They did, however, provide him with a reminder of what he was supposed to look like. He signed deeply and peeled off his t-shirt and boxers and stood there before his fellow Cagagheni and concentrated. The loose jowls belonging to Simon suddenly widened and tightened, becoming angular and wider a the base. His skin boiled with movement as the skeleton beneath it slipped and slid into position. The brow widened and became more elongated. The ridges of bone around the eye protruded and hardened, forming deep dark sockets inside which his lavender eyes glowed and twitched. He almost cried out in pain, but did stagger when his knees suddenly bent in the opposite directions and his ankle shifted direction. The muscles in his leg swelled, even as his bones in his thigh stretched. Strangely, humans and Cagaghenis shared the five fingered hands, though the thumb did thicken and form another joint. The chest spread, the muscles in his shoulder bulged, and his tail grew. It was n't a long tail. It was a birth defect; one for which he had received plenty of ridicule as a young a child suckling his mother. `` You, who have spent eons with the small race of man, how do you judge them? Malignant or Benign?'' The Voice demanded. `` I find them... complicated. In ever instance, they are destructive and threatening to others and themselves. Especially, themselves. They kill more of their kind than any predator, virus, or untoward incident can claim.'' Simon reported. `` So, you're judgment is extermination?'' The Voice surmised. `` I did n't say that. I said, they're complicated. While it is true that they pose a threat to the galaxy and its inhabitants in their present mindset, it should be understood that their mindset is ever evolving. I was there when Eve stole the apple. I was there when their creator banished them from Eden. I was there when their inbred offspring slew the other inbred son. The violence is there and has been from the beginning, but they're not the same inbreeds they once were. Their impure beginning has made them nearly savant in their retardation. They are leveling out.'' Simon said. `` Please explain.'' The Voice urged. `` I wish to know of humanity.'' `` If man had progressed without interference from the one they term The Serpent, their blood lines would have remained pure, and they would ceased to be. The apple was test. A temptation to test their resolve. The maker knew the risk, and he allowed it to happen. He forbid them and use the serpent to debug his design. His programming was in error. He discarded his test subjects and started over. They copulated and multiplied. The maker was evidently curious. He let it happen. You know him. You understand his fascination. Humanity is a genetic explosion. They are... an ever expanding sentient star. I fear destroying them would irk the creator. He has set time aside to study them, and as I said, they are complicated. The serpent added chaos to the code.'' `` Yet, you yourself have said that they are the greatest predator they will ever know.'' The Voice argued. ( Continued in Reply )
[ WP ] In a quiet little coffee shop in a quiet little town famous people from history can stop by anytime for a drink ...	Kafka stared down at the black coffee; he had n't dared ask the woman at the counter for sugar or cream; he ’ d almost worked up the courage, but a loud cough from behind had frozen him, hand slightly burning from the heat of the cup he ’ d just accepted; he whirled, grimacing as a bit of the java sloshed over the lid and burned his hand, to stare into the eyes of a scowling old man, white hair wild, peering down at him, as he worked his mouth around an unlit cigar. ‘ Well, sonny, are you going to move, or aren ’ t you? ’ The old man tapped his foot, but Kafka was paralyzed – what had he done? What was he going to do now? Where was his way out? A loud scraping startled him, and he twirled again to see an employee moving down chairs around a table, completing the opening rituals for the day. Kafka scuttled over to the chair, grateful to be away from the old man, and sipped his drink, eyes darting around, not daring to see if the old man was watching – again he wondered, what have I done? Why is this person interested in me? “ Confounded idiot, ” Twain mumbled as he made his way to the counter. Finally, he could get some proper libation, now that the riff-raff had departed. “ Good morning sir, what can I get for you this morning? ” The smiling young girl beamed her youth at him. Twain smiled back, his eyes glittering. “ Some oysters, good brandy, and a light for my cigar! ” he said, winking. The young girl shook her head. “ Oh, Mr. Clemens, you know I don ’ t have those to give. All we serve is on the chalkboard behind me. ” She gestured and continued to smile, and tapped her foot underneath the counter. He scowled and stared at the board for a moment. Sighing, he grumbled, “ Yes, yes, coffee, cream, sugar, milk, the usual. ” His smile returned as he watched her turn and followed her form with his eyes, twitching his mustache. Makes my little Tom Sawyer abroad, he thought, as he accepted his concoction and paid with his usual two-dollar bill. As he went to his normal table, he saw Kafka sitting there, and decided to mess with him by staring him down as he walked, and enjoying him twisting and turning under his gaze. He was so absorbed with this, he accidentally almost sat in the lap of another person at the table. “ What the – “ “ I shall come as a thief in the night, ” Jesus said, as he glared disapprovingly at Twain. “ Yes, well, could you come as a thief in the night, with a little more warning? By God, you ’ re in my favorite chair! ” And Twain stomped his cane on the floor. Jesus, never losing eye contact, moved over one chair. “ Thank you; it ’ s nice to know the son of God defers to his betters. ” They stared at one another for another few moments, Kefka trying to hide in his seat; then Jesus smiled, and started to laugh, and then threw back his head and roared, while Twain grinned. “ Twain, you ’ re a fucking agnostic, but I like ya. ” Jesus slapped him on the back, and sipped his mochachino.
[ CW ] Thieves have stolen all commas in the world . It 's up to the average high school language arts teacher to get them back .	`` How did this happen? How could it have happened? These are the questions on everyone's minds this morning. Persons unknown have stolen an entire punctuation mark from everyone in the world. Appositives - except those separated by dashes - are gone. Compound sentences are gone. Lists of Items. People. Places. Things. All are now more emphatic and dramatic due to the necessity of punctuating them with periods. We turn now to our grammar experts for information on the more insidious implications of this theft. Is it even possible to end a sentence of dialogue with anything other than a question mark or exclamation point?'' the newscaster read. A balding man in a bow-tie appeared on the left side of the screen. `` You've hit the nail on the head. We ca n't add a phrase indicating who just spoke without a question mark or exclamation point to replace what would have been a comma at the end of the quotation!'' he said. `` Though if the speaker will always be clear then it's fine to just end a sentence normally. That will just use a period.'' `` I object! That's irresponsible! We might lose track of who's talking.'' `` Yes. Without an ending'said' phrase it's all too easy for dialogue to become misattributed.'' `` The only course of action is to end every sentence with an exclamation or question mark! Just to be safe.'' `` Hold on. I think I may have lost track.'' `` Me too. See! This is just what I said would happen! Everyone start yelling! With exclamation points we can attribute dialogue!'' said a puffy-looking man in a tweed coat. `` Is it best to yell? Would n't it be nicer if we all questioned instead? Wo n't it work just as well?'' said the original balding man. `` Thank you for the discussion. Moving on now: the Associated Press has released...'' the newscaster began. Mrs. Strunk turned off the TV as the image switched to a news story interviewing more supposed'experts'. She did n't need to hear from them. The consequences of the theft were all too apparent to her. Just last night she had run her red pen dry before realizing that there was something more at play than just careless students creating run-on sentences. Though she had to admit that the dialogue thing had n't occurred to her. `` Dammit. Now I have to be emphatic or inquisitive all day just in case somebody wants to quote me?'' she muttered as she picked up her bag. `` It's hard enough just talking all day at all.'' ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Strunk pulled into the parking lot just a few minutes before the first bell rang. She hurried up the stairs to her classroom. A poster by the whiteboard now read: `` Let's eat Grandma! Let's eat Grandma! Punctuation saves lives!'' `` Poor grandma. She does n't stand a chance anymore.'' Mrs. Strunk surveyed the other posters in the room and found them in similar states of uselessness. Her first class was a fiasco. The student papers had been all marked wrong erroneously so she could n't hand them back. The students were all abuzz about the theft. She found it nearly impossible to quiet them. And of course her lesson plan for the day had involved gerunds - that was out the window. An attempt to continue the current play they were reading ended in a nigh-incomprehensible mess; Shakespeare's hard enough to comprehend when all the commas are where they belong. `` Fucking gerunds. Let's see the experts on the news tell us about the plight of the poor gerund!'' she muttered during a class change. She was finding it almost impossible to teach English when the essential lubricant of the English language had been taken away. When her planning period arrived she went down to the teacher work room. `` I sure wish I was teaching math right now!'' she said to Mr. Florian. `` You might want to reconsider that. We're dealing with place value and large numbers in the remedial class right now. Try telling me how big 10000000000 is at a glance without commas!'' `` What about the non-remedial class?'' Mr. Florian frowned. `` Vectors. It's still a mess.'' `` Try teaching Greek without them! My students have been mixing up ὅτι and ὅτι all day!'' Mr. Michaelos put in. `` Now even I'm doing it!'' `` You think that's bad?'' Mrs. Spinoza spoke up. `` I'm trying to teach programming over here! The syntax is broken on just about everything! I've had to start rebuilding the lesson so that every multi-argument function will only take one.'' Mrs. Strunk felt a core of resolve growing within her. `` This is ridiculous. We ca n't just sit around finding increasingly outlandish workarounds. We've got to get our commas back!'' she said. `` But how?'' Mr. Florian asked. `` We do n't even know who stole them!'' Michaelos protested. Strunk thought back to her school days. Her name had led her to constantly say'no relation!' when style guides were brought up - but it had also spurred her interest in them. She thought over the list of them and realized who had to be the culprit. `` Yes we do. It's been staring us in the face all along!'' she said. `` We've got to go... to New York City!'' ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, An enterprising student had found a loophole in the now-comma-less county guidelines indicating that school really ought to be no more than three minutes long each day. The school board had been thrown into disarray as much as everyone else - they were happy to comply. The teachers were on the bus to NYC by lunchtime. `` You never told us who did this.'' Strunk smiled. `` It's obvious. Really! Just think about who has an anti-comma opinion that might have turned to... extremism. And who has much to gain from this news-making event.'' The other teachers mulled it over. `` Surely you do n't mean...'' Spinoza began. `` Oh but I do!'' Strunk said as the bus came to a stop. She gestured dramatically out the window at a big ugly trapezoid of an office building. `` It was all the machinations of the Associated Press!'' The teachers hurried out of the bus and into the lobby of Manhattan West. `` I do n't understand. Why would the AP steal all the commas?'' `` They're the only major style guide that recommends against the usage of the Oxford comma. Maybe that view curdled into extremism!'' Strunk said. At the start of the day she had thought that speaking exclamatorily would be near impossible - but now her renewed enthusiasm for the comma was making it easy. `` Ah, very good. I knew someone would figure it out. That part, at least,'' said a tall, well-dressed man who appeared from an executive elevator. He had a tall forehead under grey hair, and blindingly white teeth. `` Gary Pruitt, head of the Associated Press. I take it you're here to reclaim your commas.'' `` And our associated hypodiastoles!'' Mr. Michaelos said angrily. `` How are you speaking with commas like that?'' Mrs. Spinoza asked. `` I've been trying all afternoon!'' `` It's simple, my dear: I stole all of them! I can speak with as many, or as few, commas as I want,'' Pruitt said. `` I'll use them for everything. Vocatives, dates, compound sentences and lists ( but not a single Oxford comma, of course ).'' `` That's ridiculous! Nobody should have a monopoly on a punctuation mark just because they hate one of its uses!'' Strunk exclaimed. `` Ah, but the Oxford comma is merely a red herring! It's not the real reason we stole them.'' `` Why, then?'' Florian asked. `` To generate news, dear boy! News that the AP, as the sole holder of commas, will be able to report on with clarity! We'll be the only ones making a lick of sense in a world gone mad, and people will flock to us from around the world!'' `` You'll never get away with this!'' Strunk yelled. `` We already have, my dear teacher. We already have.'' `` So long as there are words on my tongue and breath in my lungs I will fight for the comma.'' `` And so long as you fight you will be wasting your effort.'' `` I disagree.'' `` Your agreement is irrelevant. This is happening whether you like it or not.'' `` I suppose it is.'' `` Hold on... you're trying something here...'' `` Damn right I am.'' `` Stop this! Stop making simple declarative statements! I need...'' `` Oh no you do n't!'' `` Ha! Punctuation mark! Exclamation point! Gotcha! We can nail it down now.'' `` Maybe you can. Maybe you can put a said phrase one it. But maybe, just maybe, we've already gotten switched around.'' `` Wait a minute. Was that... oh my god!'' `` That's right, Pruitt. Without commas, it's real easy to lose track of who's talking. I learned that trying to read my students papers! But it also honed my ability to keep track. I beat you at your own game, man.'' `` But you... I mean to say... goddammit this is tough! What have you done?'' Pruitt yelled impotently. `` I stole the commas back, is what I did! And now I'm giving them all back!'' Strunk said triumphantly. `` Commas for everyone! For the computer programmers, the mathematicians, the Greeks, and, especially, for people who use the Oxford Comma!''
[ WP ] Unbeknownst to the prison guards , an immortal man is put in jail for life . It 's been 70 years and no signs of aging . Now what ?	`` Hey their. You okay'' The guard said to me as he unlocked my cuffs to go out to the court yard. `` Yeah... Just fine'' `` It seems that even though you murdered a man you are okay with this, and some how you have all the prisoners fearing you.'' `` Yep, that's just my little secret.'' I did not tell him because he would not believe me. `` Okay, Let me just say it out right now. Are you immortal?'' He knew'' How do you know?'' `` Because Jenkins, our oldest guard, says you have stayed in that cell for years and show no signs of ageing.'' `` Finally, someone notices.'' `` Where you just going to wait, until someone noticed'' `` Yes and then try to convince them to let me leave.'' `` That's not how this system works'' `` Does it matter. At least I could try'' The guard leaves me and goes back into the control room. I look into the room, and see him make a phone call.
[ WP ] A Japanese and a Canadian try to out-polite each other .	`` Nice to meet you. Welcome to Calgary.'' `` Thank you very much. It is my pleasure to be here.'' * < shakes hands > * `` You're here for a coupla weeks, hey?'' `` That's right. I appreciate you taking me into your home.'' * < bow > * `` Oh, it's entirely my pleasure.'' * < bow > * `` I do n't want to be an inconvenience.'' * < bow > * * < grin > * `` Please, be assured there is no inconvenience.'' * < bow > * `` Will you be able to help me find the school in the morning?'' * < bow > * `` Oh, absolutely!'' * < bow > * `` ^^ ( やめてください ) Thank you, that's most kind.'' * < bow > * `` It's the least I can do for a guest.'' * < bow > * `` Do....do Canadians bow often?'' * < bow > * `` Nope, not really.'' * < grin > < bow > * `` Can we stop bowing, now?'' * < bow > * * < laughs > * `` Yeah, sorry, mate, I could n't resist. Here,'' * < tosses a beer over > , `` have a beer, buddy. Got a 2-4 cooling in the yard. You play Street Fighter?'' < laughs > `` You're an ass. Did I say that right? No, wait... I'll kick* your ass. That's it. Oh, and you're an ass. Let's go.'' `` All right! Loser does the dishes. You're on!'' -- - Based on a true story: )
[ WP ] Things I never said .	I only wish in every argument that turns up between my partner and I, I would n't be so reserved in my responses. It's been numerous occasions that I allow him to say and express how he feels.. no matter how much he'll unnecessarily rip into me. I only wish each time I would have stood up for myself more. Not allowing myself to coil in regret and guilt because I was made out to be the only one in the wrong. - How can you consistently forget the value of our relationship.. friendship. How can you belittle me and say I bring nothing to you life, that I do nothing for your life? I've dedicated my entire effort towards re-inventing myself into the person you've made me feel I should be. I love you so much that I have been willing to change my entire perspective of life.. just to come closer to meeting yours. I carry the weight of all the women in your life who have done you wrong. You see them and what they did to you when you see me.. when you're angry with me.. I am feeling the brunt force of numerous occasions and fights I am not even responsible for. I only wish you could see how much I have been and still am willing to do just to gain your approval.
[ WP ] A person gains new found success in life as they start giving 110 % . Unknowingly , the extra 10 % is being stolen from Alternate Universe versions of them self .	I awoke and walked to my balcony stretching and hungover, the sun slowly beginning to shine shedding light on the previous night ’ s debauchery, the two women who lay naked in my over sized bed still asleep. Feeling the cool crisp air of the morning I looked out over my endless pool and into the mountains they always seemed so majestic first thing in the morning always inviting, always peaceful. I feel my hand tremble while I grip the banister throwing me from my peaceful thought and reminding me of how all of this came to be so long ago. It was just a ski trip I had gone on several before I rather enjoyed the feeling of flying down the slopes on fresh snow, the warmth of the lodge after a day of conquering a mountain, the pranks my friends and I would play on each other for a few extra laughs. I had been looking forward to this trip for a while It was the first one we will be going on during our college years and was promised to be an epic experience. I loved the atmosphere already the guys were pumped and there were ladies everywhere, we made a bet between the four of us to see who could nail more chicks while we were there, looking back I can ’ t help but smile we were so juvenile. Off we went at first light taking the mountain as if it were an animal that needed to be tamed, laughing and yelling having the time of our lives. Back up the lift and down again each time only stopping to speak to potential conquests only to leave them to impress others with our skills. I had just finished talking to a beautiful brunette hoping she would be the one I actually made it with and not just lied about it to impress the boys when I heard a dull ringing in my ears. It sounded like a far off siren but nobody seemed to hear it. I asked the brunette, I asked the guys, all gave me the same look of concern and told me they heard nothing but I knew it was there. I tried to shrug it off and continue with the day but I noticed every time down the mountain it got louder at a certain point and quieter as I went away from it. On the lift I made up my mind I would check it out I would prove that I was n't hearing things, I concentrated hard and pinpointed a spot in the trees where I would begin my search. I knew I was n't crazy even though my friends kept giving me looks as if I was obviously past thinking I was messing with them. Off the lift I found a girl to talk to just to give the guys a head start down the mountain again before it got dark. They laughed at me like good friends do assuming I was still trying to “ close the deal ” before the day was out. I held no interest in the conversation at hand but I waited patiently listening to the siren while her words were mere white noise. I only regained focus as she began to walk away obviously disgusted at my complete disregard for the conversation. I contemplated for a moment going after her but I had other things to attend to so I set off down the mountain, listening. It did n't take me long to find the spot I needed getting this close to the tree line made the siren almost unbearable. I stared into the forest hoping to just see what it was to no avail I had to go in. with every step the sounds became louder and louder making it difficult to even concentrate let alone search for whatever was making the noise. I was reaching my limit, my head splitting and my view of the slope diminishing quickly I decided to turn back, and it stopped. I looked around frantically my paranoia edging me to believe whatever had been making the noise had spotted me. I almost missed it a slight glow in the snow a hazy shade of green almost three feet from me. I examined the object leaning in close to see what was moving inside what looked like an apple sized rock. What I saw made me fall back and scoot away in the snow, there is no way that was what I thought it was. My breath became labored and my pulse raced, I tried to gain my composure but I could n't focus I saw..me. It was n't quite me, my hair was different and I was swimming, I hate swimming but it was definitely me. I got closer and looked into the rock once more and there I was just swimming in a pool taking laps like I enjoyed it. “ MARK! ” Someone was yelling my name in the distance I looked around it was getting dark I needed to go before they sent the whole mountain looking for me. I scooped up the rock in my gloved hand and stuck it in my pocket and headed back. After my buddies finally decided to let go of the fact that they caught me “ taking a dump in the woods ” things were back to normal. The ringing had stopped and the rock was placed securely in my bag wrapped in a sock and out of my mind for now, time to party. The week went on as normal slopes, beer, and girls we spent almost every waking moment together leaving me no time to check on the strange rock I had found so I did my best not to think about it. I had almost forgotten about it until I was moments away from my dorm room and the siren began again this time softly so I sprinted the rest of the way to my dorm and emptied my bag. I unwrapped the rock and peered inside there I was again the same me a different me sitting on a bench with a girl. I tried to make out the conversation but my lip reading skills were not up to the task I barely noticed my hand creeping to the stone until I touched his face, my face. With a flash everything went dark, I woke up on the floor almost an hour later with a splitting headache. I sat there trying to remember what happened when it hit me I slowly peered over the edge of the bed and saw the rock just sitting there no light, no me, no siren, just a rock a black rock. I quickly decided I must have fallen and proceeded to clean up I had class in the morning. The next week was a strange one I quickly noticed that I knew things, not like six sense things but textbook things. I knew the answers to questions in my classes that once boggled my mind, I read faster and retained more information, I was somehow smarter. I sat at my desk in my room typing out a paper after only reading a few articles on the internet, I smiled wide as my fingers moved effortlessly across the keys how did this happen, will it last? That was ten years ago I had touched that rock four more times since then each time a different me appeared in the rock and each time I got smarter. I had become one of the world ’ s greatest minds, I had created some of the greatest inventions of all time and had done it all with relative ease and I had no idea why. I heard the two women behind me begin to stir reminding me of where I was, pulling me from my memories. The only seen side effect from touching that rock was the tremors, every now and again my hand would shake sometimes it would last a few seconds others a few hours but always afterwards a face would appear in the rock. I had resisted touching it for a while now and the same face would appear and disappear pushing me to touch it once more I just watched him, me, each showing was a different scene in what seemed like what could have been my life. I had long since assumed these were images from points in my life that could have been but were n't. I tried to shut it out of my mind and turn to the ladies in my bed for a suitable distraction. As I walked up to the foot of my bed what looked like lightning began to form in the middle of my room. It was a constant strike over and over in the same spot seeming to come from thin air strictly to ruin my imported brazilin oak floor. I am not sure why but I yelled out in some effort to startle whatever was causing it and in that instant a large ring dropped to my floor. It was the size of a hula hoop but looked metal, I edged forward to inspect it closer just as it began to vibrate and lift off the floor leaving a pillar of light in its wake. I stood there in shock as a figure stepped through the light, It was me? The women on the bed screamed in disbelief while we just stared at each other, his face aged more than mine his clothes tattered and torn, his expression was one of anger. He looked over to the women who immediately stopped screaming and turned back to me “ I know what you are doing and you need to stop now. ” First post critiques are welcome. Thank you for reading even if you hated it. Lunar_Lisp
[ WP ] You begin to question reality when you see the man you 've just killed is alive and well .	A: `` I killed you.'' B: `` Nope.'' A: `` Yes I did, actually, I saw your head explode.'' B: `` Nope, I had a shield.'' A: `` But I saw it, the blood... brains... skull.'' B: `` Nope. You did n't. I had a shield.'' A: `` Shut up, you're dead. What kind of shield?'' B: `` Invincible. Invincibility. See me now? Shield.'' A: `` Ca n't happen. I went boom, and you exploded.'' B: `` BOOM!'' A: `` Ah. See, I exploded! Now I'm dead! That's how this works.'' B: `` Not if i have an invincibility shield. I'm hungry.'' A: `` My gun goes through invincibility shields.'' B: `` Okay, I died and then I came back.'' A: `` So you died.'' B: `` And now I'm back.'' A: `` Can I come back?'' B: `` No, you're dead now. You did n't have an invincibility shield.'' A: `` Oh, okay.''
[ WP ] A 12 year old girl gets taken hostage on her way to school . Make me sympathize with the kidnapper .	`` I want to go home now!'' the preteen replied sullenly, the man had asked her if she was okay, did she want a drink or a sandwich. He tried to build a rapport again, `` We've a long drive, maybe you should try sleeping for a bit.'' The girl did n't answer directly, she looked out the window and muttered `` I do n't want to go with you.'' `` This is your life now, you are going to have to accept it Caitlyn. I do n't want to sound harsh but you'll learn one day this is for the best,'' he sighed to himself, there would be so much to deprogram in the child. It was overwhelming but so important, she would grow to love it he was certain. He did an inventory of the clothes he wanted her to wear, he had n't been sure of her sizes but he thought it would be tight fitting, she was a bit more developed than he had initially hoped, on the cusp of womanhood, it was as well he had taken her now then. `` Sweetheart, you know I love you, right?'' he asked her, continuing his tactic as she began to cry. `` Just take me home if you love me, it's Susie's birthday today, I am meant to go to her house after school, please?'' `` I ca n't do that, you know why, they wo n't let me see you anymore, that woman poisoned you against me, but you'll see I love you. You'll be happy, I promise.' `` I want my Mum, please, I just want to go home,'' the girl was inconsolable in her grief but her father was determined, she would learn to love her new life. -030

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