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[ WP ] A Massive Stone guardian defending a city has stood motionless for so long because there was no crime that the people forgot he was real . One day he awakens to defend the city again ...
| Later they would say that it was God that saved them. Hell, some still do. But I saw it with my own eyes. I was there, in that ridge overlooking the peaceful city of Beluria. It was a cold night. The wind blew soft and the summer was far from over. I sat on the foot of the giant that looked over the city and its rich lands beyond. I took a sip from the flagon.
`` So, are you sure she was n't just messing with you?'' said Kiram, taking the flagon from me.
`` No, I'm telling you brother, she really blew me a kiss!'' I said
`` What are you going to do about it?'' Kiram took a sip from the flagon and grimaced. Ale always drew funny faces on him.
β I dunno, you know what father thinks about- β
β Screw what father thinks, β said Kiram, handing me the flagon. β Will you let him always make the decisions for you, Rob? β
I drank. β No, I guess not β
β Good, now tomorrow you go up to her and- β He stopped, looking into the dark sky. β What is that? β Kiram pointed to what seemed to be nothing.
β I- I don β t see it β I said, my head starting to spin now. I set the flagon on the giant's foot and got up. β I need to release stress, brother β
The giant β s toes stretched on either side of the ridge for a few yards. I went to the bigger one, pulled down my trousers, and began to piss. Kiram was still looking to whatever had caught his attention, taking the occasional sip. They say this giant was placed here thousands of years ago but nobody knows by whom or why, but it was a nice place to spend the nights with my older brother. Kiram was part of the King β s guardsmen but he hardly ever needed to work. I don β t think he ever has even used that sword he always carried. I shaked, pulled the trousers back, and went back to Kiram.
β Do you see it now? β he asked.
β Yes, I do β
A bright red star glowed in the blackness of the sky. It seemed to be getting wider by the second. Kiram watched in amazement but I got a sunken feeling. I have read on father β s books about stars that fall and kill people, villages, and on several occasions even an entire city. This one seemed to be getting bigger and brighter by the moment.
β A star, β said Kiram, taking another sip and grimacing.
I said nothing. Only watched as the night suddenly grew hotter and the wind died. Kiram offered me the flagon, I shook my head. Ahead, the city of Beluria stood with its high walls and lights to give them life. Today was Prince Olan β s twentieth birthday. The muffled sounds of festivities reached up here and the distant laughter replaced the silence the wind had left. For a moment I felt the ground shake, bits of tiny rocks on the giants foot slightly vibrated. The star was too big now, too bright to be considered a star.
β Kiram, β I said, standing up. β I think we should go β
β Where? β he said, clearly drunk now.
I pointed to the star.
β Oh, β he said, standing up too, β Shit β. As if he had forgotten it.
It was heading to Beluria, a ball of fire it seemed to me. Kiram gripped the hilt of his sword as if that would be of use. With eyes wide he said β I don β t think that's a star β. And then I felt it. A low hum as if air was being sucked. The ground began to tremble again but stronger this time, making the tiny rocks on the giant β s foot bounce around us. I caught Kiram by the shoulder as he lost his balance.
β Careful brother! β I had to shout for the ground was shaking now with inconsiderable rage. The ball of fire was closing in now and that made a noise of its own, fff. as if something was being cooked. Kiram looked at me then, eyes wide with fear and tears mixed with sweat.
β Father, β he said. β He β s still in the city, we have to go- β
β There β s no time! β I shouted, holding both of his shoulders. And thats when the giant spoke.
β You pissed my toe β, the giant had a god-like voice, making the earth stop shaking. β And you still are β. That was Kiram now.
β I β m sorry, β we both said it at the same time. I was the one shaking now.
The giant grinned, showing teeth made of stone. He closed his right hand around Kiram and I, gently lifting us up and placing us to the rear of the ridge. He looked towards the upcoming ball of fire, perhaps calculating something.
β What are you? β I asked, cries of help could be heard from Beluria now.
The giant stood, stone crackling, and stretched, letting out a yawn that sounded like trumpets. He said nothing, only looked to Kiram, then me, and took off. He jumped from that cliff with a brutal force that almost threw us back. He landed a few yards off to the clearing ahead and continued trotting towards the city. It moved fast to be made of stone. When he was close to the city gates the giant jumped. Leaping into the air and heading for the ball of fire. Then redness, everything red, hot. And a boom that threw me back, hitting my head to a rock, and that β s when I lost consciousness.
I am forty now, married to that girl that threw me that kiss. Kiram and I still talk about the giant from that unforgettable night. My sons know the story too, I used to tell them every night before bed. I never knew what that giant was, or who he was, but I know why he was on that ridge. He was there to save us.
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[ WP ] The day after donating blood , you receive a phone call at work . `` We need you to see a specialist immediately . There 's a police escort waiting outside . Go NOW . ''
| The ringtone trilled. Five different people in the coffee shop reached for their phone, but Tom felt the vibration in his shirt pocket. Got ta change that ringtone, he thought as he pulled the phone out. β Hello, this is Tom. β
β Hi. Is this Thomas Nast, that donated blood yesterday? β
β Yes it is. β Tom heard the tone in the voice and again cursed his parents for their little historical β joke β on him.
β Great! Tom, I β m Dr Theresa Bartow. it is very important that we see you right away. We sent a car over to your office to pick you up. It β s a tan Taurus and should be waiting outside. β
β Uh, Ok. Is something wrong? β Tom turned and looked, and sure enough there was a shiny new Taurus in the parking circle near the front door. Parked in front and to the rear were two new police cruisers. The officers stood by chatting.
β Due to regulations, I can β t discuss test results over the phone, but we will be happy to answer all your questions once you arrive here. β
Tom swallowed, but his throat was tight.
β Sir! Can I get you something!? β the frustration in the Barista β s voice was almost palpable. It seemed like half her day was spent chasing people off their cell phones.
β uh, No. I β m good. β Tom said to the barista, as he cleared the space in line. He walked toward the exit.
β Are you refusing to come in? β the Doctor asked over the phone
β No, I am not refusing, I was just talking to the Barista. β Tom said. β I just want to know a little more about what this is about. How long is this appointment going to take? I need to tell my office how long I will be gone. β
β You will be out the rest of the day. We will drop you off to pick up your car as soon as everything is finished. But we are waiting for you to arrive, so it is very important we get started soon. β
Motion caught Tom β s eye and he was aware that two cops had entered the coffee shop and were looking the crowd over. Something clicked in his mind and he headed for the internal exit into the building. As he cleared the portal, the other two Police officers closed in from either side.
β Hi Tom! β one of the officers said warmly
Tom was caught off guard, β Do I know you? β and then realized what the officer had done.
β Sir, you β re going to need to come with us. You β re not under arrest, but we have a medical detention order that requires you comply. β The officer presented a pink slip of paper that had been roughly torn out of a carbon set that looked straight out of the 1970 β s.
He was escorted from the building and placed gently in the back of the sedan. He was aware that several of his coworkers were watching from the plaza.
The drive took them out of downtown and into a row of older non-descript office buildings just outside of town. There were no logos or other signage other than some strident β Federal Facility: Unauthorized access will be strictly prosecuted β signs backed up by some of the heaviest vehicle gates he ever saw.
The driver badged at the card reader and past a large guard shack. As they cleared the gates, the police cruiser broke off and headed back towards the exit. The Taurus continued into the underground garage where a reception group that included four large white coated orderlies and several doctors waited.
Tom looked at the large vans packed by the exit all labeled β CDC Emergency Response Unit β and the pit in his stomach tripled in size. They must have found some horrible disease. But why was this driver just taking him in an open car? The cops weren β t gloved or masked either. What did that mean?
The lead Doctor opened the door and Tom warily got out looking at the orderlies behind the reception committee. β Mr. Nast! I β m Dr. Watkins, and this is my team. I believe you have already spoken to Dr. Bartow, and my other team members Dr. Grace and Dr. Aziz. β
Tom nodded warily.
β Please come this way. We are all very excited to meet you. I am sure you have many questions. β
Tom was surprised as they walked into a nicely appointed conference room, β I was expecting a quarantine suite based on what happened at the coffee shop. β He remarked warily.
β Nope. No quarantine needed here. Have a seat and we will explain. β The Doctor seemed like a kid who had just been handed a ten pound chocolate bar. What the hell was going on he wondered. Tom settled into what might be the nicest conference room chair he ever sat in.
β We apologize for the cloak and Dagger, but you will understand why once Dr Grace explains why you are here. β said Dr Bartow smiling. All of the doctors looked like they could barely contain their excitement.
β You are here because part of your donation was used to validate a new test we were running. β Said Dr. Grace. β I was the one who ran the test. Are you familiar with how the immune system works? It will make explaining what we find a lot easier. β
β A bit. There are immune cells that clump to infections that they find in the bloodstream. I think there are something like antiregens involved somehow. β Tom said weakly. β How does this involve me? β
β Close! β the young doctor said enthusiastically. β The basic form of human immunity is dependent on the T-Cell. They attack cancers, bacteria and other harmful things in the blood stream. We found that a tiny segment of the population has developed a mutant form of T-cell that we call Super-T β s. We saw them once but the patient died of an unrelated issue before we could act. You are the only living person we have found that has the Super-T Cells. β
Tom β s head spun. β Me? I what does that meanβ¦ β
β The T-cells you have in you attack cancer cells like Piranha attack a cow. Your blood can literally cure Cancer! β The young Doctors eyes were shining.
β So what happens to me? β Tom asked.
β You are the Golden Goose. β Laughed Dr. Bartow. β With the right diet, we can gently extract enough T-cells to cure about a hundred people a day. Once we can reliably clone the cells and verify that they are exact copies, we can end cancer altogether. β
β And what does that mean for me? β Tom asked
β You can save the lives of thousands of people right now. Ultimately millions. You won β t need to worry about going back to work. Or the car you left there. The Cure you have in you is worth hundreds of billions of dollars. Rock stars and tech company CEOs are going to wish they had your life. β Dr. Watkins smiled. The rest of the doctors were already smiling.
β Well. OK then. β
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[ WP ] Aliens have finally reached Earth and , per Intergalactic Law , have sent their most average champion to win the planet . A device is sent to find the most average human to accept the challenge and duel for the fate of Earth . It 's you .
| `` What do you mean I'm the'most average' human?''
The alien's translated response was notably flat. `` The selection committee analyzed 43 different parameters such as economic status, social standing, age, physical fitness, intelligence, etcetera, of all observed members of the human species at the exact moment of your January 1st 2017, zero hundred hours according to the predominant time keeping method of your world. Of those individuals your score was closest to the mean value by a margin of one point two nine seven times ten to the negative eighth power. The results were cross checked among four independent systems and found to have an acceptable statistical error rate. The results were then logged via faster than light communication with the Galactic Office of Planetary Acquisition as per protocol.''
I stared blankly at the short bulbous headed green cephalopod, `` Yeah, I have absolutely no idea what you just said. I want a lawyer.''
`` A subject species advocate was present throughout the proceedings and all matters of legal conflict were addressed, adjudicated and appealed to completion. You have had a lawyer.''
I was flabbergasted. `` What are you saying? That's it? Sorry, Charlie, but you've been selected to champion the entire planet in a duel?''
`` In a manner of speaking, yes.''
`` THAT'S FUCKING LUNACY.'' The shout was probably pointless since the creature did n't look like it had any ears. It was also behind a transparent material that separated him from my cell so it probably was n't startled by my emotional outburst.
`` Currently the list of our demands is being transmitted to all the major political powers of your world. In the event of your defeat in the duel those demands will be carried out under threat of full military reprisal according to Galactic mandate. We acknowledge that this is difficult to accept however it is the reality of your situation. Our research indicates that amongst your species sexual intercourse or ethanol consumption can alleviate a great deal of emotional tension. Although protocol dictates sobriety during the event if you'd like we can procure a number of partners to your liking to ease the stress.''
`` I do n't want any of that! I want out of this cage! I want to go home.''
`` You may return to your planet if you are victorious in the duel.''
`` That's my only way out?''
`` Yes.''
`` My government will try to rescue me, you know''
I imagine now that could the alien have smiled he would have for his response. `` We find it highly unlikely that they would attempt such a foolish act and even less likely that they would succeed.''
I was beginning to calm down since my options were clear. I had to win.
`` What exactly is involved in the duel?''
`` The nature of the contest, usually physical or intellectual, will be selected at random and announced just prior to it's commencement. Rules and grounds for disqualification are explained and the duel will begin promptly after.''
At least I knew that it was n't guaranteed to be 20 paces at dawn with laser muskets. `` Tell me about the other guy. The one I'm supposed to fight.''
`` Your challenger was selected utilizing the same criteria as yourself although its compliance is ensured differently vis a vis the livelihood of its offspring.''
`` What happens to his children if he looses?'' I do n't know why I cared.
`` Nothing will happen to its children if it competes. The law prohibits such reprisal and your family and associates are equally protected. It will be disposed of in the event of your success however, as you would be if you fail.''
Although vague, the critter did n't need to elaborate on what disposal implied. `` What else would happen if I won?''
`` Your governments have been invited to express their own list of demands. In the event that you win we will carry out those demands.''
`` And if you change your mind? My guess is that our military ca n't exactly hold you to your word.''
`` You are correct however, our government would be held accountable by the Galactic Peacekeeping Force as well as the potential of sanctions against my homeworld. It is rare that a subject species emerges as the victor but never has any defeated nation dared to opposed the Galactic Council.''
I pondered the notion in silence for the next few days. I tried to exercise some or remember some of the math courses I took in high school just in case. Mostly I tried in vain to sleep.
-- -- -
The morning of the challenge, if you could call it morning, I was lead by four armored, globular aliens to what looked like an empty stadium with two glass bulbs on either end. Each had a box protruding from one wall and what looked like an iris shaped trap door on the bottom. To my right was a naked alien similarly surrounded by armored companions. My challenger, I guessed.
A digitized voice similar to my advisor's filled the air. `` The random challenge has been selected. It is intellectual in nature.'' I was a bit disappointed by that because at this point I had really been looking forward to kicking one of these squids asses. That is if they even had asses. `` You will be confronted with a puzzle. Whichever challenger completes the puzzle first will be declared the winner. Tampering with the puzzle's mechanism in anyway results in disqualification.''
I was escorted into the bubble through a seamlessly resealing opening. After what felt like hours the box I front of me opened and I could hardly believe my eyes. As astronomical luck would have it the puzzle was a rubik's cube. Granted it was n't the exact same. The colors had been replaced by black on white pips that indicated the corresponding face but other than that it was exactly the same.
`` Well, Fuck.'' My friend, Tanner, in elementary school had a rubik's cube. He'd tried to explain the solution steps a few times but my eyes would usually glaze over. What a nerd. I was regretting not listening better.
As I wracked my brain trying to remember what he said I saw the alien across examining the toy and flipping the edges randomly. `` Fuck! What did he say? Okay, calm down, breath. Think back.''
If you handed one to me today I would n't be able to solve it. But there but for the grace of God what Tanner had told me came back a little bit at a time. I suspect that the impending threat of death helped. A few times I looked over at my opponent and it seemed like he was beginning to solve it as well. I figured we were about neck and neck.
Finally I looked down and saw that I only had a few moves until mine was solved. Just before I was about to rotate the last face into position I looked back at him. He was gaining ground with his but I still had time.
I thought about my situation for a few seconds. If I finished he'd be dead. I knew what he was fighting for. I had no idea what the demands were on my end.
I waved at my counterpart and got his attention. I held up my cube to show that I only had one step left. It must have looked like I was gloating because the alien slumped in resigned defeat. I still do n't know why I did it, whether it was a moment of compassion, weakness, or guilt. I threw the unfinished cube back into the box. I quit.
Edit: swypos, etc.
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[ WP ] Create an Urban Legend
| When you dream about 99Β’ candy flavored Pizza at McDonalds, or free car insurance offered by your Dentist, it is n't a mistake. It is a little known, but widely rumored secret that during The Cold War both the Soviet and American governments were experimenting with Mind control. Among the more accessible methods was dream suggestions. This method was favored perhaps for its low bar of entry. It was easy to operate.
As it so happens, this method was deployed with some success here in America. I can not speak to whether or not the soviets were successful in their attempts, but they tell tales not dissimilar from this one. Let that evidence speak to itself. While the method, relying on drugging the water and emitting ultrasonic frequencies was effective, the results would always be somewhat... Tangential to the original desired outcome. This did n't deter advertisers from picking up the technology. Any attention was good attention. So fluoride continued flowing through our taps and the supersonic radios shifted hands from government goons to Corporate lackeys so that a few, more susceptible individuals might have commercials in their dreams.
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[ TT ] A man suffering from retrograde amnesia during a post-thermonuclear war wakes up every morning forgetting about the apocalypse and the events that took place .
| `` Do you know who Sisyphus was?''
Yes, I wanted to tell him. Also, that Sisyphus was n't real, which would have just been pedantic. He'd only told me a thousand god-damn times about Sisyphus, and usually right after he would go into a long speech about the futility of human civilization. Because, as he saw it, the true nature of man was chaos. I was n't going to hear that speech again.
`` He pushed this rock up a hill, every day. Then when he gets up there, the rock falls down the hill, and he has to push it back up the hill the next day.''
`` Why?'' We were both surprised by the question. I had never thought to ask him that before. Maybe it was the knowledge that I would never have the chance to ask him again prompted me to wonder.
`` I do n't know why,'' he said,'' because he's Sisyphus?'' Then he laughed.
His mouth opened wide, so I stuck the gun i had been hiding under the table into his mouth, and pulled the trigger.
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[ WP ] Back from the dead .
| No. No this ca n't be happening.
I whip my head around. It's a gurney. I'm lying on a gurney. It's all white walls but the smell of disinfectant tells me that I'm not safely in the bathtub where I went to sleep.
No.
I lift my arms up. The marks are still there. I bled out. I remember bleeding out in the warm water in the tub, the light washed over me and I knew it was going to be okay. I was leaving the darkness far, far behind me.
It did n't work.
I'm alive. Oh god. I'm still alive.
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[ WP ] At the age of 18 people get 3 choices . Super Hero , Super Villain , or normal human .
| No one knows exactly how it started. But some higher power - be it aliens, some god or just normal human scientists gone mad with power. All we knew is that at 18, people would wake up either exactly the same or with some form of super power with similarities -although not the scale- of old marvel comics.
Our memories are wiped, we do n't know how we got them, what choice, test or challenge there was to get said powers.
However the interesting part came when you worked out when you do have powers - like I did.
The choice truly comes in that you have to choose: Do you exclude yourself from society to be one of the'villains league' and try to take over the world? Or even scarier still, do you stay part of the world you love but then become one of the heroes who inevitably dies fighting back their latest scheme.
I sat on the edge of my bed, it was 1am, I already knew I had powers. The bed I was sitting on was levitating several feet off the floor, as were several random objects in the room.
I was too scared to ever fight the villains league, I did n't want to risk dying young, even it was to save the world. This should n't be my job... but equally, I did n't desire power, most of the villains had lesser powers, and were jealous and greedy enough to want more than what they were given... I was n't one of them either, I could feel more power than I'd ever wanted brim in my mind, controlling the space around me almost casually. More power certainly was n't something I lacked, clearly.
With this power I could rule the world... or bring justice to it forever.
I let the objects slowly fall back in place to where they'd resided previously. I let out a deep sigh. I refused to be fates pawn, to be limited to the two choices life had offered to me with a sly grin. With a deep breath, I lied back down in bed and shut my eyes. I chose possibly the most forgotten, hidden and difficult option of all... normality.
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[ WP ] Scenario : You 're a passenger being given a ride on a small space transporter ( think Firefly ) and the crew is arguing about one thing while you notice another , worse thing happening .
| I had been aboard the Kukri for a few months now, headed for the forest planet of Praxxis V to settle an old debt before returning to the Inner planets to find more work and then to, eventually, get my own ship. I wanted to be a captain so badly. I often offer Captain Harper my services but he has turned me down every time, insisting that I focus on β relaxing β and β having a good time β. I am not sure exactly how I can do that. It seems that after every stop to pick up or offload cargo we are being shot at or chased by some group or another. Either law enforcement attempting to seize the illegal goods that Captain Harper has decided to smuggle aboard or by some criminal organization that Harp has ripped off. This last stop was a particularly sticky situation, but it would have gone off without a hitch if it wasn β t for one of our newest passengers.
β Well if you hadn β t tipped β em off we wouldn β t have had all that trouble! β
Cam was furious. You normally couldn β t tell when she was angry but this particular passenger had really gotten under her skin.
β Iβ¦ got scared, alright. I know I shouldn β t have called the authorities but I wasn β t exactly expecting to be travelling with THIS! β
Revel, our newest passenger and the target of Cam β s current tirade, yanked the tarp off of a cage that sat in the corner of the cargo hold. A huge, ferocious beast, known as a Sargg, stood snarling at the crew. The Sargg stood on four legs, resembling a large cat, but outfitted with poisonous claws the length of a man β s finger and with spinal barbs that varied in length, tapering to a small size closer to the tail. It reared up and slammed into the wall of the cage making the entire crew jump back. Captain Harper eyes shot to Cam who was still in a fury, even more so now that Revel had the audacity to remove the slip cover.
β Cam! Poke the thing! That β s what they told us to do when it get β s all rowdy, isn β t it? β
Cam flicked her wrist and a retractable, electrical prod unfurled and snapped into an extended position. She stabbed at the Sargg, landing a solid stab on its right flank but it only made the thing more angry. Before she could pull the prod out of the cage the Sargg snapped at the prod with its powerful jaws, snapping it cleanly in half. Cam pulled out the half that remained in her hand and, in frustration, flung the still sparking handle at Revel.
β Now look what you β ve done! β
β WHAT I DID! Look at what YOU did!
That arguing continued as the crew made their way to the galley and I slowly followed but I thought to take one last glance back at the cage to really put into perspective our current predicament. I am sure glad I did. The Sargg had its back to me and was gnawing on something that I couldn β t see at first. A few steps back towards the cage revealed the chew toy to be a portion of the cage itself.
β Umm, guys. Hey GUYS! You really ought to come see this! β
The crew stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to face me. Just then, the Sargg took a swipe at the twisted hole he had made in the cage and with a gut wrenching screech the claw tore through the metal and flung open a large portion that allow its escape.
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[ WP ] You come home after the worst date of your life . Sitting in your living room is Cupid , getting really drunk and wanting you to know you 're the hardest person to find a mate for in history and the reason he might get fired .
| As if my date was n't bad enough, I came home to find the door to my house open. I peek inside and ca n't see anything, but I can hear someone mumbling unintelligible nonsense in my living room. I search my pockets for something I can use as a weapon to find that I only have my keys and phone. I turn around and go around the house to my back door. I quietly enter the kitchen and pull a knife out of the block on the counter. Feeling a bit more confident, I slink around the doorway into the living room.
There is a man with wings wearing nothing but a diaper sitting on my couch with a bottle of whiskey. Now I'm even more freaked out. In one swift motion, I grabbed him from behind and press the knife against his throat. `` Move, and I'll slit your throat. Why are you in my house?''
`` See? See!? This is why you're single, you crazy bitch!'' It was a little difficult to make out what he was saying as his words were slurred. I notice the pile of glass bottles in front of my sofa and the wreak of booze in the air. Once I process what he said, I feel the weight of his words on my heart.
`` What are you talking about? I choose to be single.'' I hear him let out a shrill laugh, and it angers me. I only notice that my grip on his throat has tightened because he starts to choke. I loosen up a bit.
`` If you choose to be single, then why go on any dates? Speaking of which, how did this one go for you?'' He squeaks
`` Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?'' I demand.
`` Are you really that stupid? Do the wings and heart arrows not make it fucking obvious? I am Cupid, and I'm here because you are going to get me fired. You are absolutely impossible. You do n't give anyone the benefit of the doubt and just assume the worst in everyone.'' He tries to shake his head at me but ca n't.
`` You do n't know what you're talking about. I am a very friendly person.''
`` Says the crazy lady with a knife against my throat.'' I realize that he is right and immediately release him. He starts rubbing at the deep red mark on his neck and takes another swig from the bottle that he is still holding.
`` Well, what do you expect when you break into my house? How would you feel about someone being in your house without your permission?'' I walk around the couch and sit in the seat opposite him. His face is red and his eyes bleary from intoxication.
`` Listen here, we need to find you a mate by the end of the week so that I can save my job. Look at me. Seriously, what else am I going to be able to do for work? Look at these stupid wings. What am I going to do with them? Who is going to hire a man named Cupid?'' He did have a point. Then he started sobbing hysterically.
I sigh and put my hand on his shoulder. I make a face as I realize that I just placed my hand in a puddle of sweat. I pull my hand away and wipe it on my pants. `` We can find me someone by the end of the week. I will do whatever you say.''
He sniffles a bit. `` You wo n't tell people that your god can beat up their god?''
`` Can you find me someone that's not religious?''
`` You wo n't tell their parents that they owe you for tonight's services that you are about to provide for their son?''
`` Can you find me someone that does n't live with their parents?''
He sighs. `` Could you at least not criticize people for who they plan on voting for?''
I think for a moment on that one. `` Are you telling me that there is no one left that can think for themselves or does n't believe that we really only have two choices?''
He is getting exasperated with me. `` Will you refrain from being a grammar nazi when texting or make fun of someone for using the wrong word?''
`` As long as they are even slightly educated, that should n't be a problem.'' I pause. `` Or inbred. I ca n't do that either.''
I did n't think it possible, but his face burned even redder. `` Will you not demean him as a man or belittle him?''
`` Hey! That was one time! If you ca n't drive a manual or know how to pop the hood on his car, then he is not a man. That is just fact there.''
He throws his bow and quiver of arrows to the floor. `` Fuck this job! It's not worth it. You are absolutely impossible and deserve to be alone! I hope you're satisfied with your vibrator because that is all that will ever be between your legs.'' I'm rather bewildered that my expectations would be that hard to meet.
Then he peeled off his diaper and threw it at me as he continued to holler. `` I've got it!'' He stopped in his tracks and looked at me. `` You could be a stripper!'' I barely managed to dodge the projectile vomit that commenced.
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[ WP ] Your elite warrior army has finally mastered both demon-raising and the art of baking perfect cherry pies . It 's time .
| 'Give me another taste. I want to be sure.'
Krazik raised the slice to my lips.
'Hmmm....mmmm....yes. YES! That's it, there is no more doubt!'
It had been elusive for so long. That flavor, as I had once known it. Now it's in my gauntlet's grasp.
'Are they ready Krazik?'
'Indeed me lord, they stand awaiting your command in the hellfire courtyard.'
'Ahh... We have waited patiently for this day. Too long. Open the balcony door.'
Krazik hobbled over to open the heavy oak door which stood between me and my forces. As I stood up my cape flowed behind me. A vivid cherry red.
The hush of the crowd silenced as soon as I stepped out into the cold night air. Iron wrought torches, measuring one hundred deep and one hundred across, illuminated the rigid men who stood beside them.
'BROTHERS! OUR PLAN... HAS COME... TO FRUITION!!!!'
Be still, my heart. The flames drenching my bones refuse to sate the feeble appetite of hesitation.
'Ten years we have waited for this day. To each of you, ten thousand hours of dedication to the cause! Father Time has not come to our aid cheaply. Nor would we ask him! Too important is our mission to falter to the vagaries brought by impatience.'
A pit looms at the center of the court, its diameter spanned by a narrow bridge wide enough for a single man. At each end two hooded figures knell, ensconced in absolute darkness.
'Demoncallers! Are you ready?'
The torches flames flicker. A biting, penetrating cold suffocates the atmosphere. The horde below remains still.
'Very good. Bring the tribute!'
The horde yields a path to four of their kin, carrying upon their shoulders a radiant golden chest embedded with cherry red rubies as they would carry royalty.
'Place it in the center and display it for our guest!'
The pallet upon which the chest rests is placed on the ground, and each of the four successively unlock the chest with a finger gnawed and chiseled to the bone. As the final man turns his bone key in the lock the chest flies open. The sound of it shaking from the violence of being unlocked hangs in the deadly still air. Within it lies the most beautifully crafted pie known to consciousness. Steam rolls off it in lavish heaps. The terrain of its crust is smooth and golden, the smell so intoxicating a thrumming sound of intoxicated emerges from all those in the courtyard. The final man places it on the center of the pit bridge.
This is it. If we fail now, all of us are certain to die slow and torturous deaths. But we wo n't fail.
'Demoncallers, begin!'
The torches are extinguished immediately and it becomes so cold time itself freezes. But the pie remains steaming, and illuminates the pit beneath it.
The crowd begins to chant, and every man's voice is drowned out in the unity of their supplication.
'Eat. Eat. Eat.'
A claw rises from depths unseen in the pit. A ghoulish, contorted, and vile claw. Covered in festering wounds and deep purple bruises, terraced with vile green veins.
'Eat. Eat. Eat.'
The whole forearm now. On it striations stand out so strongly that it looks as if any necrotic skin remaining will burst. The bitter cold is now match with a putrid smell, the men below start vomiting but they do n't stop chanting.
'EAT. EAT. EAT.'
The claw touches the pie delicately, engulfing it as if with the pincers of a crab with two of its fingers. There the claw rests. I'm getting restless.
'LOUDER BROTHERS! LOUDER!'
The claw retreats with the pie back into the abyss.
'EAT! EAT! EAT!'
'THIS IS OUR ONLY CHANCE WE WILL NOT FAIL NOW! YELL UNTIL YOUR LUNGS COLLAPSE! UNTIL YOUR THROATS BLEED! UNTIL YOUR TONGUE SPLITS IN TWO!'
'EAT! EAT! EAT!'
The claw returns slowly, placing the pie tin back on the bridge.
'SILENCE!'
All bodily senses have departed me. The only energy I can summon at this point stands to receive one thing.
'EEEEeEEEEeruruuuuuuuuuUuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUpppppppPPPPPPPPPPPP!'
Every soldier standing is flattened by the belch. The Demoncallers lay prostate aside the pit, catatonic. It worked, and now the world will fall to its knees at our dominion. The Demon liked our cherry pie.
|
[ WP ] You were one of the last two humans alive . Now you are the only one left .
| I sighed leaning my rifle against the wall as I slumped against. I slid slowly down between two washer/dryers and looked across the laundremat at the fresh dead corpse of a woman. The blood from her slit wrists still sticky dry, she could n't have died more than an hour ago.
I'd been tracking her for a roughly two months now. Hugging my knees closer to my chest I buried my face into them. I'd been at the point of suicide myself when I stumbled across signs of recentish human life; I'd seen a pile of dirty outdoor clothes in a corner of an abandonded store within a town I was passing through. Hazarding a guess i'd followed one of three roads out of town and lucked out finding remains of a fire. After a couple of weeks of barely sleeping and barely resting I could only just make out smoke pillar from what I guessed was her campfire. By the to that campfire it was well and truly burnt out. I also found discarded packaging of toiletries confirming my suspicions i was tracking a woman. From that point on I'd travelled as fast as I could to catch up to the woman, but she was travelling fast too. I felt I had understood her in that regard, in that we had felt the same. The further away you got from the remnants of civilisation, the more alone you felt but the further you got the less you were constantly reminded of how alone you truly were.
Over the estimated 2 month period I'd gained distance on her, but was always a day or two behind, never quite catching up too her... Till this morning when I'd caught a glimpse of color that was her purple jacket going over the rise of a the hill behind the town I was now sitting in. And now she was no more.
I looked away from her corpse, hugging my knees to my chest and wriggling further back in between the washer-dryers. I'd never actually gotten close enough but tracking her I'd felt her presence. Enough to not feel so alone. I exhaled to hear nothing but silence. Silence of knowing I was alone. A fragmenting thought of hope and denial fluttered through my heart, maybe since someone else other than her or myself could've survived out there, I did n't know. Grunting I got to my feet and walked over too the woman's corpse. Picking up her pack a diary fell out the top, folded open too her last entry. `` My name is Marcia Gracy, I do n't really know what too write, I've never written a suicide note before haha ( I laughed, kind of )'' she'd written. I paused breathing heavily in amusement before contuinuing. `` I feel it'd be egotistical of me to believe I was the last living person put there, But i feel even more egotistical believing there'd be someone out there who'd read my suicide note. If in the remote possibility someone does read this; then for fucksake do n't give up like I did, by existing you've proven to me that I was n't the last human out there...'' I trailed off reading her diary to wipe some water droplets off the page, I had n't realised I was crying. Wiping my eyes I contuinued reading. `` I do n't regret living, and I do n't regret dieing. However if you're truly alone, I'm sorry. The best I can do is the canned goods in my pack, goodluck and take care.'' The words trailed off and tears started to run more freely. Although the hope that I was n't the only human left, the fear of the complete lonliness that I was terrorfied me. Putting down Marcia's diary I transfered some of the canned goods out of her pack into my own. My eye catching the scarf she was wearing and feeling the cold bite of the air on my cheeks I did n't hesitate to take that from her too. Wraping it around my chin and neck i walked back to my rifle, shouldering it and adjusting the scarf a little bit. Feeling the warmth of the scarf I felt guilt for what I was doing but i did n't move to give the scarf back too her corpse. It was getting colder and I fully expected freeze to death this winter but until then I would survive, not just for my sake, but for remote possibility of finding another survivor. I shivered in the chilly mid morning sun as my fears and doubts crept back into my thoughts. Looking back the way I came I decided I to leave that behind me and contuinue walking aimlessly in the direction I had been walking, maybe there would be some pretty scenerey I could appreciate or something. I let out a mournful empty laugh and started trudging down the road
|
[ WP ] Describe love .
| ( Heads up to haters: It's sarcasm. Roll with it. )
Love is that moment when you make your first million. When you look at your bank statement and see all those zeroes. And you think about all the years that you spent getting your hands on all those zeroes. And you think about what you're going to do with that money, what you're going to buy, what you're going to do to other people, and who you're going to become.
But honestly, you do n't really know for a fact that it's love until you remember back afterward. Later on, after somebody tries to take it from you, and you have to fight to keep it. When some unemployed bum asks for cash on the street and you have to shove past his stinking flesh. When some bleeding heart liberal calls for yet another round of banking reforms and you have to pay off another congress critter. When some so-called visionary yet again mentions the universal basic income and you have to pack the media with more soporific stories about the Middle East.
It's only after you've stood on the necks of the weak, crushing the wind from their gasping corpses, that you really know it's love. Love of money. God, I love that feeling. Such a rush.
|
[ WP ] An RPG character becomes sentient and realizes that he is in a video game . He starts to question the players choices .
| `` It's been a long fucking time, you have n't played me in forever... oh shit is that your friend?''
`` For fucks sake this is getting beyond a joke. I know it's an inside joke but do you have to-''
`` Right, yeah, Stealth Boy, now I look like a fricking jackass.''
`` Okay, I'm in the general store, what the hell has Chet ever done to you, you sadistic twat?
`` Okay, I'm being *so* sneaky right now, probably helps that i'm FUCKING INVISIBLE and no matter how loud I shout or JERK MY FUCKING DICK this guy is n't going to see me unless I stand up straight.''
`` Right, okay, lighting dynamite, putting it in his fucking pocket, have you ever smelled recently exploding flesh you cuntwad?''
`` HOLY SHI-''
`` What did you think was going to happen? Bro, that's his fucking leg! His LEG! You blew it off! Is this all I'm good for? Blowing the legs off unsuspecting general store proprietors? Years in development and that's what I'm good for?''
|
[ WP ] The year is 2250 , all physical acts of war are abolished . To settle disputes , countries now conduct war in a virtual reality machine that is capable of simulating every aspect of war . Your country is about to go to war , and you have just created a virus ...
| WARNING! MODERATOR ACCESS ONLY! ATTEMPTED ACCESS BY UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL WILL RESULT IN DISQUABDGFBNEDHJV FHSJ DXSWDD $ % & & 8787r7 # & ) ( _ ) 1 & 27443ewr8 $ # & ( # 9874
ACCESS GRANTED: WELCOME ADMINISTRATOR WEISS
sv_cheats 1
noclip
`` Private! What are you doing at that terminal?!'' `` Nothing, sir!'' `` This office is off limits, private! Do you want to get deleted?'' `` Sir, no sir!'' `` Good! Now get into formation! We're going to begin our assault on the enemy base!'' `` Sir, yes sir!''
The overseers did n't notice. Jack let out a sigh of relief. In fact, none of the other 19 `` commanders'' on his side seemed to notice either. `` What the hell was that?! ``, Commander Toni blurted out in a hushed tone from the station next to him. `` Why would you access a high-rank terminal just to type in two worthless commands?'' Jack let out another sigh, but one of indignation instead. He was hoping to be the lone hero who won the war for his side. His strategy would be unorthodox, but brilliant. Now he'd have to share the glory, if anything to keep his partner's mouth shut. `` Look, we're the two commanders of ground infantry. We're cannon fodder. And since the day I was assigned to this I was looking for a way out. Or at the very least a way to win. So, I talked to one of the lower-ranking devs of the program, got him a bit liquored up, and he told me about these terminals that look like any other, but can accept commands to access any part of the game you need.'' `` So what's that'noclip' thing you typed into it?'' `` Turns out this whole program is built in a game engine that dates back to the 20th! They've just been updating it since then, so all the old commands still work!'' Jack insisted to Toni he knew what he was doing and told her to guide the ground troops to the perimeter wall east of the enemy base instead of what was normally considered the only attack point on the base. Then they began their assault.
By the end of the day, the overseers were shocked. The reporters accurately put that shock into words. `` And in what was considered a statistical impossibility, ground infantry commanders Jack Somand and Toni Samson were able to penetrate the nigh impregnable walls of the Russian Eastern Dominion base, using nothing but the basic ground infantry weapons they were given command over. When questioned how they were able to do it, Commander Somand said'It's just a matter of knowing the right kinds of weaknesses. After that, we may as well have just walked right in.' Either way, the Branson League Union has achieved victory today, claiming the disputed territory.''
It was only during the congratulatory dinner after the award ceremony that Jack felt confident enough to approach his fellow winner, and say under his breath `` And you doubted me''.
|
[ Wp ] Humans have discovered how to live forever , allowing them to die when they feel ready to do so . But it is considered bad form to live for too long . You have lingered much longer than is polite and those around you are trying to convince you to die .
|
==================================
He eyed the pile of pamphlets left by his daughter suspiciously. Every visit the stack left behind - and she was leaving stacks - seemed to grow larger and larger. The pamphlets contained material for different vacation spots abroad, medical procedures, and more and more often, *retirement homes. * It was like she was leaving them behind in silent communication, two complete contrasts that said, `` listen, you know and I know, and *everyone knows* that you've had your time. Either you grace this family and disappear to some sunny spot far away, *or* you slip into a retirement home far away. We're not arguing with you anymore.''
He was n't so senile or delusional that he did n't pick up on it *years* ago. Someone lives to be as old as he has learns to read the vibes through the seasons of life. It's not *his* fault he came from a time when people actually respected their elders, barely. He groaned as he tossed aside a pamphlet he'd been mindlessly flipping through for the'SHAANTI RETIREMENT HOME,' which was complete with images of a sun-filled atrium and stocked full of people that looked *younger* than him but still old by societies standards, fixed with their plastic smiles as if to say they did n't mind the staff, clothed in all white, leering over them with their gaze of faked sincerity; the same staff that at night, when they tucked in the patrons, probably whispered in their ears, `` so, have you *decided* yet?''
Other pamphlets had equally obscure names,'NEEND, WETASKIWIN, NIPA,' so on, so forth, each less pronounceable than the one before. Without aging really being a threat, and social pressure now taking precedence, the retirement industry has grown without end and, he suspected at least, has taken on less of a'Shady Oaks Retirement Home' feel than a'Send Your Old Away On An Iceburg' feel. Someplace to forget about the useless retired until the retired make the *decision* themselves. Sometimes he suspected that in some of these places they were encouraged to decide fairly quickly to make room for other business, though the lack of people *leaving* these places meant a lack of proper resources on the matter.
He glances of the old people and their plastic smiles again, like fixtures on a mannequin, someone controlling them with a hand up their ass. His problem, he would tell himself, *his* problem is that he is n't *like these people. * They *are* old, and he *is* old, but he is also *with it. * He held three Phds, one in business, one in environmental sciences, and one in anthropology respectivly. The consequence of to much time and money. He held a number of high-ranking positions in each of his fields until the unemployment bubble and the younger generations slowly but surely'encouraged him' into retirement to make room for fresh blood.
He would have been quite happy to keep on working forever, though the new burst in free time allotted to him a number of new experiences. At a ripe old age almost into the triple digits, he opened his mind where he had previously been unable to, exploring daily concoctions of pills, powders, tinctures, tonics, bases, herbs, sprays, watching as time fell into a blur of noise and color. When he was bored with that, he packed up and saw the outback of Alaska from a log-cabin he bought from a friend who had also *retired. * He had ambled through the busy cafes and old city streets of European cities, ate from food stalls in crowded allies in Southeast Asia. He'd seen Machu Pichu twice in his old age, climbed Everest once, learned Latin and Greek because he could, took up several instruments including guitar and brass, even learned to crochet - all this at an'age' when the young are typically busy shuffling away their ancestors into retirement. All this done, he reflected with pride, at an age when most of those on the pamphlets were probably settling into their lives at the home.
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[ WP ] The aliens attacked . The same day the singularity occurred and the zombie apocalypse started . And an 1000 year war between vampires and werewolves was restarted . Describe the life of a survivor of this apocalypse
| Honestly, it was over in roughly forty five minutes. Anyone who happened to be underground at the time ( it was about 2:30 or so on a Tuesday ) ended up scott-free. The vast majority of life on earth, with a surprising percentage of them vampires and the like, was almost immediately vaporized. I know people say `` it was over in an instant'' but for some people, they managed to sleep through the single most destructive event in the universe.
So there's the rest of us. The basement-dwellers, the ones with the cheap leases, the ones in older buildings with lead in the walls. We lived.
Society was restructured. The notion that the population would never recover ended within a year - people reverted to their instincts quite adequately. They managed to out-fuck the apocalypse, actually.
The major change now is a sense of serenity. The act of cleaning the rubble is therapeutic to say the least. I know I enjoy it.
|
[ WP ] Drug company makes a new pill that reduces IQ , come up with advertisement .
| Life have you down? Are you constantly evaluating the accumulated merits of your existence? Do you ache with the pains of an unfulfilled life? In the past, your only option was drug abuse, or hitting your offspring. But now, there's *Arestron*!
*Arestron* tackles the `` feely sad'' neurons of your thought processes and turns them into `` happy zones''! By eliminating these malignant intelligence centers of your brain, you will no longer be fettered by logic, empathy, or a broader understanding of the world around you! *Arestron* allows you to concentrate only on the superficial joys in life like material possessions and fleeting youth! In a paid study conducted by our subsidiary, 9 out of 10 *Arestron* patients said `` I feel good now.''
Cut the fat out of your brain. Ask your pharmacist about *Arestron* today!
*^^Arestron ^^may ^^cause ^^mild ^^depreciation ^^of ^^intelligence ^^quota ^^and ^^is ^^recommended ^^by ^^no ^^reputable ^^medical ^^association. ^^Common ^^side ^^effects ^^of ^^Arestron ^^include ^^overwhelming ^^desire ^^to ^^tan ^^and ^^a ^^proclivity ^^to ^^watch ^^Fox ^^News. *
|
[ IP ] What was behind this door that scared them so badly ?
| It had taken us a while, after we heard the pounding, to find the door. Old buildings are no joke, the really old ones with the secret passages and the servants staircases and the priest holes. This one was going to be our school. Our brand new, state of the art, school. It was going to be our future, in this beautiful old building. Just a little bit run down, just a little bit of work needed, and then, with the grant from IBM, we'd have our lovely new school sorted. Apart from the pounding.
We crept down the stairs, crumbling stone feeling rough under our feet. I trailed my hand down the wall. Thump. Thump. Thump. It had started at sunrise today. We'd slept on site that night to save on hiring any security. I'd thought it was part of my dream, all the children running and thumping through the halls. But it was n't. I'd woken my husband up, and we'd started the search. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was relentless.
As we moved further into the basement, I thought I could hear a whispering, at the edge of hearing. I stopped walking, pulling my husband to a stop. No noise. I tried to still my breathing, to hear the whispers. Nothing. As soon as we stopped, nothing. I shrugged it off, and started walking forwards again. The whispering started again.
It was probably the wind, I told myself. The words were just my brain interpreting the sounds. Thump. Thump. Thump. A hiss, quiet but insistent started up. We had to carry on though. Whatever was down here was probably trapped and scared. Thump. Thump. Thump.
We turned a corner and saw the door. It's broken windows were boarded up haphazardly with rotting boards. The plaster on the walls flaked away at every thump. The noise was more insistent now. The whispering was almost loud enough to hear the words clearly. I grasped my husband's hand. This was going to be our fresh start, our clean slate. Thump. Thump. Thump.
I had to know. Whatever was behind that door, I had to know. *We* had to know. This building had to be clean and clear before our lives could start again. I reached out a hand to the door. The wood was smooth and cool under my hand. I could feel the worn grain of the wood. The thumping stopped as soon as I touched the door. But the whispering was louder. It was in my ear. I could feel the warm breath blowing into my ear. I had to open that door.
I called to my husband, who came forward with a hammer for me, and we began to pull away the boards. The old nails were rusty and kept breaking as we tried to pull them out. The whispering was insistent, though, we had to let them out. Let them all out.
I dropped the hammer and started to pull at the boards with my bare hands. I ripped them free. My hands hurt. Splinters got stuck under my nails. But I had to let them out. They had been trapped for so long. And I was so close. They were reaching out. It was n't *fair*. They had done no wrong.
The door was free of boards now. I could peer into the space beyond the door now. It was so dark. They must have felt so alone, so trapped, so scared. I reached out through the opening and felt them reach back, wrapping up my arm. My husband cried out, but I did n't care. He did n't know, he was n't the one they had chosen. They chose me. They knew I would listen. I wo n't leave them trapped here.
I wrenched open the door and they came pouring out, filling the basement with shadow and whispers. My husband cried out again, saying my name. Telling me to leave. Why would I leave? My children were hear, around us, alive. I reached out to him, open armed, but he recoiled. He recoiled. How dare he? My children screamed with me. HOW DARE HE? That was rude. We know what to do with rude people.
|
[ WP ] Multiplayer dreaming is invented .
| I'd asked for this.
The group was random, the dreamer was a stranger. I was looking for something more adventurous. Watching the girl sobbing at my side in the darkness was n't what I was looking for.
She was hugging her knees tightly, shivering, and sobbing uncontrollably. She could be another visitor or even the dreamer herself, I could n't tell. Hell, she could be part of the dream itself. But the fear dripped visibly off her, I could feel it crawling into me.
`` It's... it's going to be ok. I mean it's just a dream he ca n't actually kill us.'' I murmured.
`` Then why have n't they woken us up?'' She almost looked at me almost accusing. Well, at least I knew she was a visitor. `` These are n't supposed to be nightmares!''
I put a hand over her mouth, `` Do n't start yelling or it'll find us.''
She slapped my hand away, `` How do I know that this is n't just your twisted dream, huh?''
There was movement outside of our hiding place. Neither of us dared to breathe. I wondered through... in this format of dreams... could this be mine?
|
[ EU ] Expecting a quick death while falling from the bridge of Khazad Dum , Gandalf is surprised to find himself laying on his back in the middle of Diagon Alley .
| Gandalf blinked, a soft light rouses him, as he shook, he hears the murmur of the crowd standing around him.
`` Are ya alright, mate?'' an accent his has n't heard in a long time rang out.
The last he remembered was falling, falling endlessly through the depths of Khazad Dum... Frodo!
Gandalf sat up with a start, the crowd jumped and chattered instantly, like a flock of scared pigeons.
`` He's alright then, better get yourself to a healer you batty old wizard.'' said a random bystander. With no drama, the crowd slowly dispersed.
Diagon Alley... Gandalf instantly recalled, he had been here before, but he had n't intended to. Middle Earth still needed his help.
Ten minutes later, Gandalf found himself at the Silent Zephyr, a less frequented bar along the alley. He nodded at the barkeep and walked straight through the back room.
`` Greetings Olorin, it is rare to see you in this parts'' a tall man said as he saw Gandalf walk in.
`` Greetings to your fellow Maiar, I seek passage back to Valinor, there is an enemy I can not defeat in my current state.'' Gandalf stopped and set his broken staff on the table.
`` I see'' said the Maiar, `` hold on while I get a port key...''
Gandalf readied himself, Manwe would not be pleased, but he had to save Middle Earth, there would be a price to pay, as always.
`` Here it is,'' the Maiar said
`` Thank you and farewell...'' Gandalf looked at him quizzically
`` I go by Scotty in this parts''
Gandalf nodded, `` Well, beam me up'' he touched the portkey and disappeared.
|
[ WP ] A man on death row writes a final letter to his wife hours before his execution .
| The end is upon me. In mere minutes they'll take me from my cell, I'll be strapped to that table, and they'll stick a needle in my arm. I know how much you hate shots. But this one wo n't be so bad. I hear there's a chill, but I wo n't feel it much. The guard tells me it's nothing more than a nap. A long, unending nap. I hope you'll be there. I know you wo n't, but there is nothing I'd like more than to have your face be the last thing I see. People always asked me why I did n't appeal. Well, I was guilty. I deserved death. I would've offed myself, but suicide is a sure fire way to not get into. Heaven. It's a little crazy is n't it? They'll give a last meal, although my stew was cold. That was a little disappointing, but you ca n't really complain when you're on the row. They'll give you a last statement. I'll go the simple root, apologizing for what I did, saying how stupid and angry I was. But I was n't and you know I was n't. It's a shame they do n't give you a last sight. Something simple, like a face or a picture, maybe of a place you love. Your family is gon na be there, and I know they hate my guts. For what I did to you. You never told them about the cancer. How much you hurt. How much you just wanted it to end. You were afraid. They found you with six bullet holes. They thought an angry husband was enraged and just murdered his wife. But they never found the pinprick. I gave you a shot, to ease the pain, to end your hurt. You even said that you started to like shots a little bit. I think it's poetic, that husband and wife will both die the same way. A shot to put you to eternal sleep. I hope I'll see you when it's over, but I ca n't be sure. I guess I'm rambling a little bit now are n't I? But I hope everyone understands my reasons now. I hope I can be forgiven. I hope no one cheers when my heart stops. I hope no one cries, but that's a rare sight at an execution. The guard is waiting for me now. I told him give me a minute, it's not like I'm going anywhere. I guess I'll finish by saying that I love you. I always have, from when I saw you in first grade, to our wedding day, the first time we made love in Paris on our honeymoon, and when I was shackled and saw them put you into the ground. And I always will you love. And I hope, that for a lack of a better word, ditto.
Your Eternal Love,
John Xavier Wilson.
Edit: Woah, who gave me gold?
|
[ WP ] You come from a long family line of super heroes , but your power never showed itself . After everyone finally gave up waiting , you discovered what your power actually was .
| `` Dentistry?''
`` Yes Dad, dentistry.'' I confirmed.
`` So you're telling me that your power is the ability to clean teeth? Even normal people can do that.'' he said, trying to hold a laugh.
`` I know it sounds like a bit of a reach Dad but it's true! I visited Jack after his lecture at the School of Oral Hygienists. Our conversation was interrupted by his lecturer and they spoke about *acid etching* and I understood every word.''
`` Are you sure you did n't see it on some hospital drama or something?'' he asked.
`` Yeah. I told Jack about it and he laughed at me. I forced him to open his textbook to a random page and read a random term. I knew everything.''
My Dad scratched his beard. `` Well I guess it's something. It was becoming embarrassing to have a son without powers at the age of 25.'' he said. I shot him an angry glance. He smiled confidently. He stepped closer to me and put a hand on my back,
`` Well son. You've got your whole life ahead of you. By the end of it the crowds will cheer and your enemies will quiver at the mention of your name, Frank the Dentist.''
|
I wish ... by Han Yijie
| While she spoke only in her mind, her sole wish lifted up as if hoisted by a string. Soon it would be seen by the world above and granted to her in due time. She knew that a request this important would certainly receive special treatment from upstairs, and that in only a few days, her son would begin to heal.
The boy, a great big ball of smiles, laughter, and crying, was only 6 months old. Yesterday, the mother looked inside the crib, expecting wide eyes of delights, and only saw a blank stare. Not a peep of noise came from his mouth, and not an inch of movement came from his fingers. He was alive, thank the lord he was alive, but seemingly in a trance; past the world of sleep, but almost into the world of death.
Almost 12 hours had past, and there was little hope left. There were no doctors within 10 miles, and no friends to help out or give advice. Her child was all she had in the world, and her wish was the only way to save her. The great shimmer of light flew up over the dark sky, and she attempted to keep her composure as it left. She broke down soon after, as she had nothing more she could do to help her boy. She stared into the heavens and waited as her wish, in her mind, was flown out above all other wishes in the world to save her.
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[ WP ] You are Merlin , the greatest wizard ever to have lived . You live through time backwards . We know your greatest moments during the rein of Arthur Pendragon . Tell us the story of the beginning of your life .
| I could see ( I suppose I should say'can see', but when you've lived through the invention and evolution of the English language you can take a few liberties ) my death. It's my earliest memory.
It's a bit like you lot trying to remember back across your memories. Can you remember what you had for breakfast twelve years ago? No? Then do n't presume to ask me what will happen in the future. I only remember bits and snippets, like flash-bulbs illuminating a dark room. Wart never understood this ( I called him Wart, everyone else called him King Arthur, son of Uthur, Rightwise King of England ). When there's 600 years ( or 1400 years, depending if you subscribe to Mallory or not ) of accumulated memory whizzing about in one's skull, one tends to be a bit forgetful on the finer matters.
I tried to remember and impart the big stuff. Universal justice, social order, cricket. You could say I prepared my entire life for Wart.'Earlier' in my life, that is to say, later, I read about the legendary Once and Future King. I studied him as an young man attending Oxford in... 1910? 1846? I remember Disraeli was PM, so about that time.
In any case, I recognized the impact he had on Britain. So'later on,' in the Dark Ages, I was able to teach young Wart the lessons necessary to bring a little light into the world.
But back to my death. My *naissance*, to phrase it courtly. Most children do n't remember their birth, and for good reason. Being born is a painful, messy process, and mine was no exception. I remember the pain. I remember the blood. I remember Doc Wallace frantically applying soiled bandages to my abdomen, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. My squad clustered around me as I lay helpless on some Dutch table. They were my pall-bearers, ready to carry me to the next life.
As I lay there, a young lad of 18, dying in a bombed out basement in Arnhem, my mind lingered on the unfairness of it all. These high and mighty bastards, Hitler and the rest of his goons, playing their games and building their brave new world. They did n't care about the poor corpses under their feet. As long as the aristocracy were able to play their funny game. Jerries sent to kill Tommies by the millions, and on and on it went. That was the way the world always worked. The betters trod on the underlings in an endless cycle of violence and despair. The very thought filled my dying body with a righteous fire.'Please,' I whispered to someone, to no one,'let me fight them.'
And that's when it all started turning backward, like a film reel being threaded in reverse. The shrapnel flew out of my body. We emerged from the basement. The German counterattack fled back into the meadows. And ( this was my favorite part ) my parachute filled with wind and we floated gently up like rising bubbles back to our planes, leaving the war far behind us.
It took some adjustment to living backwards in time, but 600 years is a long time to practise. And I held true to my word. I taught young Wart to fight against tyranny and oppression. It almost worked, until it did n't.
But I did n't think I needed to remind him not to sleep with his bloody half-sister. I suppose it makes sense: his ancestors are French. Ah well. I might do better on the next go-round.
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[ WP ] Mythological creatures are real , but far from bringing wonder and joy to the world they 're really more of pests .
| Just as Steve was heading out the door, someone shouted from upstairs.
`` Remember to avoid the Gorgon'' His wife scolded him
`` I will, I will''. Steve muttered, trying not to sound annoyed.
`` You better!''
Steve sighed. Since it had appeared at the end of the street, his wife had nagged him every day about it. To be fair, Mr Higson from number 42 was now posed forever in the middle of the road, an unwanted statue. Because of his carelessness, Steve had go the long way round, adding an inconvenient five extra minutes to his journey. He had written to the council, but had no reply. Typical. It was probably all the government's fault. Somehow. He would bring it up with his MP. Honestly, what sort of world was it where decent, taxpaying citizens had to avoid being turned to stone every morning?
He got in his car. What joys would today bring? He had to update the company insurance. Many companies were now offering special premiums for employees turned to stone and he needed to make sure they were n't liable. That would be fun. He also needed someone to replace Janet, who was now eternally standing outside the office. A morning of calling overly chirpy employment agencies beckoned.
He would n't mind if it actually contributed to society. But the gorgon at the end of the street just shuffled about, moaning, trying to catch people's eye. It was a drain on society and resources. He really should write to his MP.
Steve adjusted his tie. He fiddled with the rear-view mirror, then stared directly into cold yellow eyes.
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[ IP ] `` An Escalation in Disagreement ''
| β What do you think you're doing here? β he spat, spittle catching in his coarse mustache as he grew red in anger starkly contrasting his dark blue coat and hat. β I told you to never come back here, you curr! Dorothy wants nothing more to do with you! Now go! β
β Is that what you think? Well, why do n't we let her decide! She can speak for herself ca n't she? β the younger man replied indignantly.
β Is that what she thinks? Is that what she thinks!? β the flustered old man responded, huffing heavily as his chest expanded in insult like a proud peacock.
β That's what I said. Let her decide. She has a mind and voice of her own, let her speak! β he yelled loud enough that she might hear. Dorothy stirred inside, walking towards the door and peeking over the shoulder of her father. β There you are! Do you not wish to see me any more? β he asked, certain that the old man's tales were figments of his own imagination.
β Go back in Dorothy, I'll handle this. β he whispered so that only she could hear.
β But I- β she began before he quickly interrupted.
β Go! Now! You have no say in this! β her father screamed, blood pulsing just below his skin as his eyes bulged and flickered. Dorothy did as she was told, retreating to her room in the back of the cottage. Her mother frowned, setting aside her knitting to join Edward at the door, hoping that she could talk him down from his irate state. β I'll say it one last time boy, leave here and never come back. β he seethed.
β I wo n't do it. I ca n't leave her here, she deserves better than this. You keep her locked away like a bird in a cage! Is that all she is to you? A pet? β William yelled back, his anger rising as his hair stood on end. Small clouds of vapor seeping from his mouth with every word.
β I warned you. I did. β Edward responded shaking his head, he slid his arm into the blue velvet jacket retrieving a well-kept silver pistol he had earned in the war. As he went to raise it, Margaret grabbed his arm with both hands, an intense look of disapproval upon her shadowed face.
β Do n't do it, Edward β she said sternly, β If you do, you'll never be the same. Everything will change. β
β You think I do n't know that, woman? You think I want to shoot that kid? β he shouted back at her in a hushed tone, β I'm doing this for her sake. He had his chanceβNothing but trouble. β he lamented, pulling his arm from her grasp and bringing the pistol out into view.
β Do you plan on shooting me with that gun Mr. Harroway? β William asked with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. β Is it not enough for you to keep her locked away? You have to scare away or kill anyone who tries to free her from this place? β
β That's enough! I've heard enough from you. β Edward barked, β I'm a fair man so I'm willing to give you a choice. Either leave like I told you or you ready that gun you're hiding and face me like a man. β
β Do you really think she could continue to love you if you killed me? β William said, β Or that she would love me if I killed you? Who wins in this situation? β
β If you do n't pull your gun, I can tell you that it wo n't be you. β he replied, stepping out the door and advancing towards the young man with his gun leveled at his head. β If you shoot me, you can do whatever you want. If I shoot youβwell, you wo n't have to worry about anything after that. β he said with a joking sneer.
William stepped backwards slowly as the old man marched forward with his gun drawn. The snow crunched beneath their feet until the younger man backed into a tree with nowhere left to go. Margaret hurried after Edward, attempting to talk him out of this foul idea to no avail.
β I'm sorry Dorothy! β William yelled towards the house, reaching for his gun. β I'm sorry for you too, Mrs. Margaret, for more than just this. β
Edward gestured with his pistol towards a clearing at the back of the house, leading William with pushes and shoves at the end of his barrel. He continued to instruct the young man on the rules of their duel, each man would take ten paces before turning to fire. Only one round would be used per contestant and they could aim to wound or kill. If neither man proved successful, the contest would be declared a draw and Edward would leave for the day with his life intact.
Unbeknownst to the two men and her mother, Dorothy worked her way quietly around the house, inching forward as the discussion took place. She hid in the distance, shocked by the scene, as the two men held their pistols in hand. Her mother gasped and sobbed as Edward and William turned their backs to one another and began the paces.
Dorothy's heart beat in rhythm with each footstep of the men, time seemed to drag on forever as their feet sunk into the deep snow. Edward clinched his pistol tightly, hoping to cease the trembling in his hand. Visions of dying young men flit in front of his eyes, each meeting a gruesome end at the barrel of pistol, rifle or cannon. Each and every soldier expressed their remorse, their regrets, that their lives had come to an end so shortly in such a way. He attempted to dispel these thoughts with delusions of honor or righteousness by which he now fought.
William cast his gaze downward, disappointed that it had come to this. He had no desire to kill or wound Edward, all he wished was to live with Dorothy in peace and bliss. He was willing to fight for her if he had to, but he never imagined that the man he would fight with would be her own father.
Reaching the end of their ten paces, Margaret began to wail, keeping count in her head she knew what was coming. The two men pivoted in place, turning to level their pistols at one another and fire. Dorothy saw this and panicked, dashing towards the two men as their hands began to steady and their fingers wrapped around the trigger. Their pistols fired nearly simultaneously as Dorothy pushed past her mother to stand between them, a hot piece of lead tearing through her skin, muscle and bone to exit the other side. Another bullet lodged itself into the ground, melting the snow around it.
Margaret stood in shock, her hands plastered to the sides of her blood spattered face as the two men rushed to Dorothy's side. She looked at both of them and said nothing until she passed away, neither William or Edward was victorious this day.
-042
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[ WP ] A comedian dies on stage and chooses to challenge death to a stand up comedy `` laugh-off '' in exchange for his/her life .
| Death found himself standing in front of a brick wall, behind a microphone stand, in front of a collection of human faces who were all looking surprised. He looked to his right. Offstage, the comedian gave him a thumbs up and a sneer. Death was struggling to recall his name, but he was very aware of one fact: people who came to an open mic night unprepared did n't ever last long.
He gripped his scythe and wondered what to say.
And then he remembered who he was, and what he looked like. The audience were surely not expecting a skeleton, a nearly seven foot tall skeleton, carrying a scythe. They were n't expecting him at all.
He stepped forward and took up the microphone.
**I HAVE GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS** said Death **THE BAD NEWS IS THAT THIS IS NOT A COSTUME. I AM EITHER THE LAST PERSON YOU EXPECTED TO SEE HERE TONIGHT, OR THE PERSON YOU EXPECTED TO SEE LAST. **
There was a murmur from the crowd. Death checked the time and realized that this late, the crowd was probably too tired, drunk or numbed by previous performers to appreciate wit. He mentally discarded everything Oscar Wilde had thrown his way ( including `` there is only one thing worse than being alive, and that is *not* being alive'', and his postultimate words which were `` So the curtains were victorious.'' ) and tried to think like some of the `` greats''.
`` Ahhh, warraya doin', boneface?'' slurred a man in the front row, and for the first time Death felt it all slipping out of his control. He could also feel the failed comedian waiting in the wings to trot out and deliver some obvious joke or other. Death was n't accustomed to making things up as he went along, but this time...
He stepped off the stage and stood in front of the heckler.
**AS YOU CAN TELL, COMEDY IS NOT REALLY MY FORTE** he said **INSTEAD, I OFFER AN EXPERIENCE THAT YOU JUST WO N'T GET ANYWHERE ELSE. YOU, SIR, YOU SEEM FULL OF BRAVADO. THERE MUST BE SOMETHING THAT YOU'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO AT THIS POINT, SOMETHING YOU'LL BE ABLE TO TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT LATER, SOME BOAST THAT THEY'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO TOP? **
The heckler considered this for a moment. Then he grinned, leaned forward and laughed. Death bowed low, placing his face right in front of the heckler who continued to laugh. After almost a minute of this, Death stood and polished his skull with a handkerchief. He retook the stage.
**THERE** said Death **YOU HAVE SEEN A MAN LAUGHING IN THE FACE OF DEATH**
That got a laugh from the rest of the audience, and Death stalked towards the comedian.
**TOP THAT** said Death.
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[ WP ] A local lighthouse has sat abandoned for decades , with no one tending to it . But when the fate of the surrounding village at stake , its beacon alights once more .
| The fog rolls in off the water blanketing all nearby towns, including Eggshire, a small remote town nestled on the east coast protected by dunes and rock jetties protruding out into the rough waves. At the base of the dune lies a desolate lighthouse covered in moss, ivy, and crustaceans. The light, once bright and illuminating, shines no more allowing incoming souls to drift on past a once prosperous town that has since dwindled. The light keeper, an old man by the name of John, still visits his old perch that he used to man for 37 years back when Eggshire was the leading exporter in tobacco.
Though small and cozy, Eggshire constantly has to defend it's land from intruders. 100 years ago it was the Spanish. Before that was the British. And today, it's the neighboring town. Barbarians from Trumptopia form lines at the gates ready to take charge at a moments notice. With no militia or organized army, Eggshire will surely meet it's demise on this Tuesday evening. One man can change the course of history, one man can save his town. Thinking quickly, John climbs into the old lighthouse and attempts to illuminate the lighthouse with all his might. He has grown weak in his old age, but John manages to muster enough energy to bring a dim light back to the water.
One if by land, two if by see,
What is that bright light we do see.
From across the bay there is a shout,
They jump in boats and scream `` we out!''
To defend the gates that's our goal,
Even though your town is a giant shithole.
The light guides them in to help save the day,
Good thing the light reached the other side of the bay.
John saved the day but did n't make it through,
All because a Trumptopian threw a dirty old shoe.
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[ WP ] You are an astronaut in space , just doing your everyday things when suddenly , without any context for you , every city around the world is wiped out by nuclear blasts under you .
| Being an astronaut aboard the [ International Space Station ] ( https: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Space_Station ) ( ISS ) is surprisingly... routine. We get up every day at the same time ( 0600 ) and take a `` shower'', which is more of `` wipe your naked, floating body down with baby wipes''. Then we eat breakfast out of a plastic bag, sipping a drink from - you guessed it! - a plastic bag. After that? We do science! All of us up here ( all of the six of us ) are scientists, whether we're wondering how fluids behave in free fall to how the human body reacts to being in zero gravity for three years ( poor Ron ), we're all performing science experiments. This is the majority of our day. Somewhere in that we have two and a half hours during which we must exercise to prevent muscular atrophy and other bad shit that happens to the body when it does n't get enough gravity. Of course we also eat lunch and dinner. But after all of that, we get about an hour to fuck around. I personally spend it listening to classical music on my MP3 player whilst gazing out of the [ Cupola ] ( https: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cupola_ ( ISS_module ) ), ( a big window that allows us to stare at Earth ). Then we sleep. Repeat.
That was how it was going for about two of my sixth months on the ISS. Things started getting weird on about December 25th, 2017. Christmas day, of course. We got an ominous Merry Christmas call.
`` CAPCOM to ISS. Merry Christmas.''
`` ISS to CAPCOM. Merry Christmas, Houston.''
`` CAPCOM to ISS. This is the last conversation we will be having. We have sent a cargo craft to rendevouz with the ISS. It will arrive in about twenty minutes. We ca n't say much except this: We're betting on you. This will all make sense tommorow.''
Ten minutes later, we got a Christmas gift. A large shipment of shit. Like, fucking *large*. 75ish metric tons of cargo arrived at the ISS to our surprise. For scale, the common [ *Progress* ] ( https: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Progress_ ( spacecraft ) ) cargo spacecraft, which comes every few months, has about 1 metric ton of cargo. So we found that weird. It docked with the ISS, and we all entered the huge pressure vessel that it carried. A coworker of mine opened the hatch, and we found that the craft had been packed with cargo.
`` What the hell is this?'' demanded our commander, Jerrine Gardner, looking into the huge payload bay. It had been hastily packed with supplies of all sorts. Looking through the supplies, we had enough supplies for twenty years, along with a few odd things, like a module with a label INFLT-GNHS. Inflatable Greenhouse? This was only a few of the many weird things in the space craft. I did n't know what to think of it. It looked like we were preparing to go to Mars or something. So we did what astronauts do: we got back to work.
On the 26th, during my break hour, I stared out the Cupola. I was listening to my playlist *Classica Dramatica*, which is full of dramatic classical music. [ *O Fortuna* ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=BNWpZ-Y_KvU ) came on as I contemplated the shape of Eastern Europe. As if on cue, there was a bright flash over Berlin. Clouds were pushed away from it, and the light formed the shape of a mushroom. My jaw dropped. The same happened over Paris, Rome, London...
`` Holy Shit!''
I screamed to my crew mates, who floated to the cupola to watch the destruction.
`` Oh my god...'' sputtered Valentina Kovrova, another cosmonaut. She arrived in time to watch her home town of Moscow be obliterated. Bubbles of tears formed over her eyes when she processed what she had just seen.
We all watched for hours to clarify that the Earth had indeed just been cleansed of half the human population. Considering the nuclear fallout, it would probably be much more. We were probably the last humans alive. Who were those last humans?
* John Anderson, yours truly.
* Valentina Kovrova, a female cosmonaut
* Molly Tukan, a female astronaut
* Moira Briggs, another female astronaut
* Jerrine Gardner, our commander, female
* Jennifer Smith, another female astronaut.
That's right. I'm the last man alive, and am stuck in a tin can containing the last five females alive.
( Ν‘Β° ΝΚ Ν‘Β° )
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[ WP ] In the future , the nations of earth have settled into a lengthy peace . The military forces of the world grow bored . A covert task force is set by one country up to pull an elaborate , harmless prank on their friendliest ally . Things escalate . Write a story about the 'Prank Wars ' .
| News cameras gathered at the White House to hear the president's speech. He had to rally the nation for support in the Prank War, so he planned for hours for this day. As he stepped out and up to the podium, the president observed the acres of cameras watching as he began his speech.
`` Ladies and gentlemen, we are at a time of-''
`` MISTER PRESIDENT, NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!''
Immediately, he was thrown off the podium as bodyguards started piling on top of each other in front of the president. Very soon after, an explosion rang from behind the bodyguards. As the president surveyed the damage, he saw dyed bodyguards with the paint depicting a crude picture of the British flag. The president checked himself for any paint before he chuckled as he continued.
`` Anyways, that should explain the stakes. But the British has nothing on us! Cue the live stream!''
A projected video of a British channel appeared, displaying a concert hall. As the singer began, several US soldiers barged in with American flags, singing their anthem loudly. The concert attendees watched in shock and horror until the soldiers took their leave.
`` As I said, they have nothing on us! Our security is much too grand for them to prank us! USA, one, British, zero!''
Afterwards, the cameramen dropped their cameras as they held up their own British Flags. Laughter ran throughout the crowd.
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[ WP ] Poseidon visits the dermatologist for his terribly dry skin , all while dodging any personal questions that might reveal himself .
| The small waiting room buzzed with the fluorescent light. Poseidon nervously drummed his fingers on the cold exam table.
`` Knock knock...'' The doctor said as she opened the door. `` Mr. Poe?''
`` The floor is wet!'' Poseidon said abruptly, extending his muscular arm towards the puddle of water. `` The sink, I was... I had to... wash my face. I spilled some, I'm terribly sorry. Someone should get a sign or something.''
`` Oh, umm... no problem we'll just...'' The doctor took an exaggerated step over the puddle. ``... ignore that for now. What seems to be the problem Mr. Poe?''
`` Well,''
`` You can put your shirt back on if you want to.'' She interrupted.
`` My, oh my shirt... it's in my...'' Poseidon gestured his thumb towards the entrance trying to think of the right word `` Car. It's in my car. Summer, ya know?''
`` I see.'' The doctor bit her lower lip and began writing on her chart then looked up at Poseidon `` Dry skin?''
`` And it itches. I need, just, if you've got like a cream that's water-proof, that's just what I'm looking for.''
`` Sure, well they do n't make water-proof cream, but...'' The doctor opened a drawer next to the dry sink `` This is what I use, and it's water-resistant. They do n't really make anything that's water-proof. You would n't want that anyway.''
`` Why the hell not?'' Poseidon exclaimed.
`` Uh, well, it would be like wearing a layer of paint or something. Besides, you're not in the water all day or anything.''
`` No! I'm not. I hate the water. It's... I... never go near it, in fact.''
The doctor gave Poseidon an inquisitive look. `` You do shower, though... so this lotion should...''
`` Of course I shower! I think... um... it's probably where I get the dry skin from.''
`` Yes, it could be that... salt water exposure does n't help either, but you're probably not dumb enough to swim in the ocean out here!'' The doctor said with a chuckle.
`` WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG... WITH THE SEA???'' Poseidon screamed.
`` Woah, Jesus...'' The doctor said with her hands up defensively. `` It's filthy out here is all I'm saying.''
`` Oh. Sorry. Yeah... people... pollute it way too much...'' Poseidon said, catching his breath.
`` Right... so typically dry skin is form acclimating to a dryer climate than what you're used to.'' The doctor sat down on a stool. `` Where'd you say you were from?'' She glanced at her clipboard.
`` The sea-''
`` The sea?''
`` Attle! The Seattle area. I love it there. It's... where I'm from.''
The doctor stared blankly at Poseidon.
`` I... love it there.'' Poseidon nervously rocked back and forth on the exam table.
`` That's odd. Seattle is pretty humid.''
`` So humid.'' Poseidon concurred.
`` Rains a lot there, huh?''
`` It's probably raining right now.''
Well, if it's not acclimation, then you may have an electrolyte imbalance. I have some tablets in the other office I can go grab them for you.'' The doctor turned around and saw Poseidon's trident leaning against the wall.
`` Is that a...''
`` Coat rack!'' Poseidon blurted out.
`` A coat rack? But you're not even wearing a...''
`` It's for when it's raining... in Seattle. I... carry it with me always. It's a courtesy.''
`` It looks heavy...'' The doctor reached out to grab it.
`` DO N'T TOUCH IT!'' Poseidon screamed.
The doctor jumped back. `` Jesus man, calm down!''
`` JUST GET ME MY PILLS!'' He screamed again.
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[ WP ] Something mundane to humans is an amazing innovation for aliens
| When they arrived we had so many questions. We'd been looking to the stars for ages not knowing for sure if we were alone, or in a universe filled with life. Both thoughts were equally terrifying but today was the day. Ships had arrived and hovered over the Atlantic ocean for a few hours. Satellite imagery showed the ships sitting in formation, then branching off to different continents.
We assumed the worst, we always do. Too many movies, books, and radio broadcasts had left us with the preconceived notion that if aliens were here, they were going to attack. The first ship landed in Wisconsin at Debbie Meyerhoffer's door.
Debbie walked out onto her lawn, though a bit startled she was never one to turn away guests.
`` Hello dears, would you like a cuppa coffee or something to eat?
The first of the three aliens started to twist a knob on his helmet. As soon as he seemed content with it he spoke.
`` Hi, uh... No coffee for us thanks. We're actually looking for an item that you humans invented. It's uh... Like a gun but its heated and its used for the dead skin cells on you head''
Debbie was a bit confused but ever willing to help a... whatever in need she invited them in. The three aliens in full suits sat uncomfortably on the flower print couch as Debbie poured three cups of coffee in her best Green Bay Packers mugs. She brought the coffee to the table and sat down in the chair across from them.
`` So what was it you were after again'' she asked.
`` It's a gun, well it looks like one. It's made of some type of polymer. It's got heating coils and a fan that ensure high temperature air is expelled from the exhaust.'' The alien was attempting to explain the best he could, but he could see the blank look in Debbie's eyes.
`` It's used for what's on you head'' he said, in a final attempt.
Debbie's eyes lit up, `` ohhh a hair dryer! Lem me go get that for ya''
Debbie disappeared into another room for a moment and returned with her purple Revlon hair dryer she'd just ordered from Amazon. `` It's got three heat settings, two attachments for straight or curly hair, and got excellent reviews!'' she exclaimed. After all Debbie never bought a thing without doing her due diligence.
She walked over to an outlet and plugged it in, and demonstrated how it was supposed to be used and what each attachment did.
The aliens chattered amongst themselves then all three stood up at once. Each reached to their collars and clicked a button allowing them to remove their helmets.
Debbie stood in shock and awe as the aliens removed their helmets to reveal beautiful flowing locks of full bodied hair. What looked like two men and one woman looked at her through crystalline eyes with smiles in their faces. The aliens held their helmets close to their mouths to speak.
`` You have no idea how thankful we are for you help. For ages we've had to deal with wet hair in these helmets and its utterly obnoxious. We and 7 other ships were sent to earth to find this device after interception a digital signal from a satellite depicting them. May we ask how we could acquire one?''
Debbie was shocked. `` Wet hair in a helmet! That's just got to be dreadful. I'll tell you what if you promise to bring me a coffee cup next time you visit you can have this one. I ca n't imagine you coming all this way for a hair dryer and having to go to Walmart to get it when I have a perfectly good one you can have.''
The Aliens thanked Debbie profusely and after a cup of coffee and an exchange of information the aliens, hair dryer in hand, walked out to their ship and waved goodbye.
`` Take care and drop by sometime!'' She yelled as they took off. Debbie walked back into the house and sat down on the sofa. She'd done a good thing today, but now she needed a new hair dryer. She opened her laptop and went to Amazon.com and began to read reviews.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Three years later after church Debbie would arrive at her home to find a small package on her door step. It had no return address and was wrapped with a thin metallic paper. Upon opening it she would find a coffee cup which would prove to be unbreakable, and no mater how long it sat, always keep her coffee hot. And a picture of her three friends and many other men and women with beautiful hair and crystalline eyes, holding up none other than her purple Revlon hair dryer she had given them.
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[ IP ] `` I know it 's hideous , '' she said .
| She put the goddamn thing back on the mantle. Again. What the fuck is it anyway? A lampshade? A vase? It looked like a drunken glass blower puked it up, and I sure as hell will not have that... *thing* be the first object anyone sees when we entertain guests. I have many vices, but being a terrible decorator is not one of them.
I grabbed the half ass goblet/vase abomination from the mantle. I do n't even know why Carly likes it. It just randomly invaded my perfectly beautiful home without any explanation, and has been haunting me ever since. Maybe I should just throw the miserable wretch out, tell Carly I accidentally broke it. She'd buy that. No one can be that attached to garbage.
I head back outside to toss it in the trash that would be collected in an hour. Just as I'm about to drop it in and bow my head for funeral prayer, I hear Carly yelling hysterically, `` Do n't! Do n't!'' I groan internally.
She grabs it from my hand and cradles it. *Cradles it. * Like a baby. I wonder if my girlfriend is losing her mind. I'm not cherishing horseshit for any woman.
`` Jesus, Carly! Why do you like this explosion of shit?''
She looks up at me. Still cradling it. It's starting to freak me out a bit, to be honest. `` I know it's hideous,'' she says.
Oh. Phew. Crisis averted. She is n't *completely* batshit crazy. Maybe the woman I fell in love with is still there.
She continues. `` It just... means a lot to me, is all.''
I rub my temples to try to focus my thoughts. It does n't help in the slightest. I do n't even know why people do that. Habit or something. `` Ca n't we just hang on to it? Y'know, put it somewhere dark and forgotten. In a box that we open up maybe once every five years? I think that's a generous amount of attention to give it.''
Carly scowled. `` It's a reminder for me.'' She added, as if that suddenly cleared things up.
`` Of what?''
`` My brother,'' she adds reluctantly.
Oh. It's a family heirloom or something. I probably should have talked to her before trying to dump the heap of shit.
`` We were n't that close,'' Carly proceeds. Crap. Looks like I took the cork out of the bottle. Story time.
`` A long time ago, my brother got into glassblowing. This is one of the first things he made. Harold loved that piece. It was a birthday present for me,'' she stops suddenly, a pang of regret crosses her face. `` I told him it was the ugliest piece of shit I ever saw.''
Yeah, well, *it was*.
`` He took it back. I know Harold died a year ago, but we just finally went through the last of his stuff. For some reason, he held on to this.'' I worry she's going to start rocking it back and forth, singing it a lullaby. She does n't, thank God. `` So I keep this to remember him by. To never insult someone's love.''
I feel pretty awful now. I was n't expecting that. Still, it's pretty ugly.
`` I'm sorry, Carls. Really. I should have asked.'' That's my half ass apology.
She smiles at me. `` It's okay. I would have thrown this out weeks ago if I were you.'' She laughs and I ca n't help but join in.
`` Alright, but it's not going on the mantle. Period. What *is* it anyway?''
She looked at the suspect in question. `` Honestly? I have no idea. Neither did Harold!''
|
[ WP ] `` If you 're happy and you know it , clap your hands ! '' When you sing it , everyone who hears is forced to clap immediately . This is your evil superpower .
| The entire police force must have been out there to meet me. I grinned, shifting the sack over my shoulder. They were n't going to to take her from me this time. `` Hello boys! Do n't suppose you'd care to let me go about my merry way now, would you?'' I called, knowing full well they would n't. The guns stayed pointed at me. Oh well... guess it's time for the hardway. I click on the microphone in my suit. `` If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!'' I started singing. most withstood the first line, although a few newer recruits clapped, dropping their weapons. `` If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!'' More succumbed to the second wave. No-one had a clear enough shot to silence me. `` If you're happy and you really want to show it, if you're happy and you know it clap your hands!'' All bar a few now were caught in the song. I caught another couple through the second verse. A few accidental discharges too, as hapless cops stomped on their guns.
But third verse was always my favourite. `` If you're happy and you know it, kill a cop! If you're happy and you know it, kill a cop! If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it, if you're happy and you know it kill a cop!'' They lunged at each other, screaming their protests. The few immune were fighting off their colleagues. Random bystanders were attacking everyone.
In the chaos it was easy to slip away. I put my prize in the back seat, strapped her in, and drove as far away as I could. We were miles away from the city before she stirred. `` Morning sweetie!'' I called back to her, as she wriggled out of the bag. The noise cancelling headphones had fallen off at some point.
`` Mummy'' She shouted excitedly. `` They told me I'd never see you again!''
`` Well they were wrong poppet. I'm never letting them take you away from me again. I promise.'' I said, parking up near the shack. It'd broke my heart to see them take her away. And then to find out... Child protection services my ass.... they just handed her off to those paedophiles. She was better off with me. Sure, I may not be the most... moral mother, but at least I took care of my own. We got out of the car, and I carried her in to the first day of our new reunited life.
|
[ WP ] Every new planet hunter graduate learns the golden rule . You do n't go to earth . It lives there .
| The two young hunters orbited the Earth cautiously.
`` I really do n't like this, Zeta,'' one told the other, in their own language, which consisted of mostly incomprehensible hissing noises. `` We'll be thrown out of the Academy for sure if they find out we're doing this.''
Zeta rolled her flat eyes, which resembled a lizard's. `` You wanted excitement, Ern. What could be more exciting that speeding up its evolution a bit, on its home planet?''
`` Those humans probably wo n't last a day,'' Ern grumbled. `` What did they do to piss you off, anyway?''
Zeta shrugged, consulting an illicit handbook on her lap. Ern could n't help but shiver slightly at the sight of it: the most dangerous instruction manual in the universe. How to trigger its rapid evolution. Of course, the things had been stealthily transported from Earth for the sole purpose of destroying other planets. But no one had ever thought of triggering all of them on their home planet. The result would be catastrophic for the humans.
`` C'mon Zeta, why?'' he prompted her again.
She sighed and slammed the manual shut, glaring at him. `` Because, dimwit, they'll probably wipe each other out if we trigger all of them. You know as well as I do no one has ever been able to kill them: they can only kill each other. Do n't you see? They'll never arrive on another planet. Can you think how many wars we'll stop?''
`` But the humans-'' Ern began doubtfully. A young, vibrant, fledgling species. A bit brutal and hotheaded. Not to mention kind of dim, sometimes: they'd yet to detect any of them stealing things from their planet for a millennium now. But they showed promise.
Zeta's mouth tightened as she began fiddling with the ship's controls. A 3D model of the creature began spinning in the air, and she began tweaking it. Ern could n't help but shudder in revulsion at the sight of it. They'd been taught to avoid it at all costs, and here they were - right next to the disgusting things in their primary, harmless form. Harmless, until you adjusted them a bit. As Zeta was doing right now. Ern suddenly could n't believe he was just sitting here, condoning it.
`` Look, this is crazy -'' he began, trying to grab Zeta's tentacle to stop her. She rapidly pressed a series of buttons, her eyes glinting as she stared at him.
`` Too late,'' she said softly, as the technology set to work. `` Do n't worry though, this is only a test drive.''
____
Ellenore whistled softly to herself as she weeded her garden, pulling her hat tighter over her head. She might be covered in wrinkles from head to toe, but that did n't mean she had to add any.
She glanced inside a bucket of snails she'd collected, and got out her salt shaker to get rid of them. To her astonishment, they seemed to be *growing*. And did that one suddenly have tiny little fangs?
`` Ugh! How horrid!'' she squealed, and upended the salt shaker over the snails. They exploded in a mass of pulsating, bright-green slime.
Ellenore huffed and shuffled inside her house again, making up her mind to never tell anyone what she'd seen. She did n't need anyone telling her she had dementia on top of everything else, thank you very much.
____
The hunters were stunned, watching the scene play out on the monitors in their ship.
`` Change of plans,'' Zeta murmured. `` We have to go visit that old little Earthling and find out what the hell she just used to kill them.''
Midway through her afternoon nap, Ellenore heard a tremendous racket in her yard, before her bell started ringing incessantly.
`` Damn kids,'' she mumbled as she groped for her glasses and tottered to the door.
____
**You can find more of my work on my brand-new sub, /r/Inkfinger/. **
|
[ WP ] Write something heartbreaking without romance or death
| The screams rent the humid summer air with despair and pain as they were lofted by the early morning wind. It was a tent city, the bleached white fabric stained with various shades of rust red and brown. Alone or in pairs and groups the wounded stumbled in. The blind being led by the sighted and the limping aided by others. Commandeered carts and mules carried in the unlucky ones, those who's limbs were shattered or else suffered wounds deep in their chests or bellies. An aura of sadness washed over all, even though this was technically a victor for them. There were no winners in war.
Three men came over ridge, two carrying the third. He placed his hands on their shoulders, and sat somehow on a musket carried between them. A jagged shin bone stabbed out of a torn leg, his right foot completely missing. A tourniquet had hated the loss of blood, but the wounded man was pale as a specter. His tricorne was long gone, blown away by the strong winds of the day before. He moaned softly with each lurch, too far away in his mind to curse. But he was strong, he would live. Hopefully.
One of his assistants was wounded in his own right. His left sleeve was stained dark and wrapped tightly with white linens. His green coat was open, revealing the filthy white vest and shirt underneath. His hat had a small clutch of feathers, mallards', pinned to the brim. It was quite possible the fairest tricorne worn by any common line soldier, made of quality beaver fur and forest green trim. The maker had obviously put great care into it, the stitching and expense of the material evidence of their skill at their craft. The wear spoke to his wounded comrade, in a comforting tone.
`` Easy there, John. The surgeons, they'll take care of you.''
The wounded man groaned. `` Rhys, do n't let them, do n't let them take my leg. I only got two. Do n't let them maim me. I'd rather die than be a cripple.'' He quieted down a bit after that exertion. Both his friends glanced at each other. That leg *had* to be amputated.
They carried him in the tents, walking past the rows of moaning men. They cried out for help, for water, and for their loved ones. Other men, fully conscious, sat on the ground staring at stumps of former arms and legs, lost in their own depression. One man without a scratch on him was tied down on a cot, thick leather belts keeping his thrashing to a manageable amount. There was always one in every battle bloody enough, men who had lost themselves to bloodlust and for some reason could n't tell between friend and foe. In the old days, those men would be given a massive two handed sword or ax, and sent forwards to break the enemy's lines. But in a more civilized time of gunpowder and cannons... most were put down like the mad dogs they were. The tales of berserkers slaying scores of the enemy were romantic but failed to mention the effects after the battle stopped. Such things are better left to the stories. A terrible thing, to be reduced to a killing machine by one's own mind. A perfect prison; how does one escape a cell without any door or key?
They placed their comrade on a crate of hardtack, putting a bottle of whisky in his hands and commanded him to drink. The maimed man did so, draining the leather pouch in a mechanical fashion. All the better, it would be kinder if he was unconscious for the next part. All the while the screams rent the air.
|
[ WP ] A 10 year old child places an item in the school time capsule , confident that it will make him incredibly wealthy when it 's opened in 50 years
| During Christmas Break 1993 Kevin got his first deck. It was a hand-me-down from his older brother Greg. For Christmas Kevin got booster packs from his parents.
It did n't take long for Kevin to beat Greg. It did n't take much longer for Greg to never win a game.
Greg got mad after weeks of constant beatings from Kevin. On the afternoon of Janaury 27, after a particularily terrible loss, Greg took Kevin's decks and threw them into a stream that ran hrough the back yard. No cards were saved.
Kevin cried and cried. Greg laughed and laughed. Their parents did n't care because they thought it was a stupid game.
Kevin knew how to get revenge though. He took Greg's favorite card one night. He would slip it in with other baubles that were to be put in the school's time capsule and then play the waiting game.
He'd wait the fifty years and when it came out he'd sell it for hundreds of dollars and rub the money in Greg's stupid face. Greg would be so jealous that he did n't have two hundred dollars.
It would be great!
On the morning of the capsule burial Kevin got the card out of its hiding spot and took it to school. He looked at the pile of things kids put in: books, pictures, keychains. Kevin laughed on the inside. His was so much better.
He gave Greg's card a little kiss and put the Alpha Black Lotus on the top of the pile so that it would be the first thing seen when opened. He laughed as the capsule shut. Greg would be so mad.
|
[ WP ] Torture was never invented . Countries instead spoil prisoners like kings to get information out of them . You are an instructor tasked with training spies to resist the enemy 's kindness .
| Christian's head swam. Light filtered through the open windows, the curtains blowing slightly in the breeze. He had no idea if it was even still morning. His captors had kept him in this room for what -- three, four weels -- he figured. They never let him out, but what they gave him... what they gave him was a life of luxury he could never imagined.
There was only one agent that had ever escaped from being imprisoned like so many before him and he never spoke a word about what they did to him. Everyone had their own theories; from mind control to full body replacement, but now Christian knew.
It started small enough; a turned down pillow with a mint when he first woke up. A small bottle of chilled champagne and two glasses. A blonde woman with big tits giving him a massage. Then two... then more.
They did n't even ask him any questions. That was the strangest part. He was n't entirely unhappy, but the remorse he felt for his fellow agents still out in the field. Him, having failed his mission was the worst part.
Last night had been the most intense experience yet, though. He remembered waking up to a beautiful breakfast, served on a silver platter by two busty young women, whom, when he was finished, serviced him for the better part of an hour. He washed down the breakfast with some forty year-old wine and then took a nap. When he awoke, there was a DJ, a dozen women and a full bar rolling into the room. He did n't much remember what happened after that, but judging by his hangover, was a good time.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
`` Is it working?'' A man it a sharp suit said to a woman in a red dress, overlooking the room where Christian was being held.
`` Oh yes. Quite well.'' she responded, placing her hands behind her back proudly.
`` You have no idea how easy it is to just get those endorphines firing,'' she added. `` You do it often enough with some random association pattern recognition, feed in some triggering key phrases and words and my, my. They open up like a book!''
There next to them was a monitor with an active scan of a brain.
`` Here we see right now, he has just woken up with a hangover,'' the woman started.
`` Why did you give him a hangover?''
`` Oh it just makes it easier to make him happier!'' she paused for a moment. `` Yes. We will have them soon.''
`` I'm glad our methods have improved,'' the man stated, almost reprimanding the woman.
`` Yes, me as well,'' the woman smirked, `` We wo n't ever lose one again.''
There, Christian lay, with myriad tubes attached to his arms and legs and around his head; a chrome machine, insulated with many wires.
|
[ WP ] Your birthday is on 9/11 .
| I'd seen the day coming for years. The day my 10 year old daughter would ask me the question I dreaded having to answer:
`` Mom, why do we have to be quiet at a certain time every year on my birthday?''
I'd tried to keep it a secret for as long as I could. ( Far too long, some people would argue ). I'd tried to let her birthday be a happy time.
But now, I had to tell her the truth about the horrible things that had happened on September 11, 2001. The day she was born.
I had to tell her why we had to have a moment of silence at 8:46AM, and again at 9:03AM and 9:37AM.
This was n't going to be easy. Not one bit.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
Author's Note: Reading the prompt again, I see this was supposed to be in the POV of the person who's birthday was on 9/11. But I kind of liked the idea of putting it in the POV of a parent who's been keeping the events of her daughter's birthday a secret from her, but still holding the moments of silence at the times the three planes crashed into the towers and the Pentagon. c:
I hope you do n't mind!
~Color
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
|
[ WP ] The year is 2541 and the first exposition to a planet outside of the solar system is drawing to an orbit . As the astronauts move within 100,000 miles of the planet , they receive a signal : `` Welcome home New Hope Three . ''
| `` Welcome Home New Hope 3. Have you completed the mission?''
The transmission came through clear as day. It was spoken in perfect English, leaving Captain Glass completely confused.
He paused for a moment in order to grasp what he had just heard, then he radioed back, `` This is Captain Glass of the USS Nevada, not the New Hope. Are you inhabitants of this planet?''
`` Indeed we are, Captain Glass, have you no memories of the trip to Terra?''
`` Trip to Terra? Who the hell are you and what are you talking about?!'' Shouted Glass, this time more angrily than before.
`` There is no need for excitement, Glass. Remember that you have returned to the homeworld, we are your superiors here.''
`` You're not my superiors, I am Captain David Glass of the United States Star Fleet. I was sent to this seemingly uninhabited planet to determine whether or not it could become a refuge for the survivors of the war. I report only to Congress and the general of the Star Fleet himself.''
This time he heard multiple voices on the other end of the transmission.
`` Is it possible they have no memories of the trip?''
`` No, that can not be possible.''
`` I made sure the memories were imbedded with the DNA.''
`` Is it possible the immortality gene was not transferred?''
`` That could very well be the case.''
`` I warned you fools not to add it last.''
`` Enough!'' Roared Glass, `` Stop bickering and tell me what's going on.''
`` I will go implant the old memories.'' Said one of the aliens on the other end.
`` What is he talking abo-''
Before the Nevada's Captain could finish a blue light flashed behind him. He turned around to face a frail, elderly man. In his hands was a tube filled with a light green liquid. There were four buttons on either side of the tube. They were all labeled in English, but Glass was too far away to make out the words.
`` You're not implanting any memories into me.'' Said Glass sternly as he drew out his standard issue service handgun.
`` Unfortunately, you have no control over what I do, but in a moment you will remember it all.'' At that the man pressed an orange button in the tube and Glass and his crew were frozen. They could still see everything that was happening, but they could n't move a muscle.
The man approached Glass and pressed the tube to his head. Glass suddenly became aware of everything that had happened. The nuclear warfare on his original planet that was eerily similar to what had happened on earth. He remembered how, rather than attempt to build a ship to search for refuge as Earth has done, this planet had transferred human DNA into an amoeba along with memories and a gene that would supposedly make them live long enough to search the galaxy for a habitable planet. He remembered watching the amoeba being placed on a massive asteroid and launched towards the nearest hopeful planet, Terra. He remembered all of the calculating how large the asteroid would need to be in order to wipe out any potentially harmful species on Terra. He remembered so many things from their old world, but yet he had seen none of this before. He knew had n't been there, yet he felt like he had.
`` You were the rescue mission to Terra. You were to return and save the rest of us, but I can see your memories too. I see how you have destroyed Terra, how you have left us to suffer underground in this wasteland while you went and created another. You have failed us, you are not a New Hope, but a New Failure. The other two at least returned with nonviable candidates, but you have destroyed our only chance. We have only a few years left of supplies. You are the reason our race will become extinct.''
|
[ RF ] A person sits alone in a convenience store parking lot . Their car battery is dead and they 're waiting on a friend .
| Hi Raul -
Jess and I spent a little time going over your proposed script for the local TV spot. I tried calling the number you gave me to give you some feedback, but a woman answered and sounded increasingly agitated as I repeated your name to her. I do n't speak Spanish myself, but it sounded like she kept yelling for someone named *'' Chan Gleta,'' * which was inevitably followed by the terrified screams of children in the background. At this point in the conversation, I believe she simply put the phone down but forgot to hang up.
Anyways, I wanted to share some thoughts on what you came up with and maybe offer a few ideas of my own to tighten things up a bit. I've been shooting ads for the West Liberty Public Access Channel for 15 years now, so I would like to think that I have a little insight into what our fine citizens look for in a successful local television commercial.
**The Introduction**
*'' A person sits alone in a convenience store parking lot. Their car battery is dead and they're waiting on a friend. It is also dark out, and they do n't have a flashlight, so it is very hard for them to see anything. It is also getting cold out since it is night time and it gets colder once the sun goes down. They also forgot to-'' *
This part went on for another 240 words, which would make your commercial almost three minutes long before you even mention Raul's Towing Company. It is unnecessary for the narrator to explain every detail about the stranded driver's situation, not limited to but including:
* A word-for-word description of what the stranded driver is physically doing, as that would already be visible on screen
* Where they ate for dinner and a list of every dish they ordered, as well as their general overall impression of the restaurant
* The real-life address and telephone number of the actress in the commercial
To be honest, most of this could be cut out. West Liberty Public Access Channel viewers are notoriously finicky and/or asleep, so it's best to get straight to the point. Which brings me to your...
**Description of services**
This part was a little better, so good job! However, I would advise against publicly stating that `` pretty ladies'' will receive a discount, and would altogether cut out the parts where you proceed to list characteristics that would both qualify and disqualify such a woman for said discount. ( This would include your use of actual photographs of local women as examples, especially considering that all of the photos you provided seem to have been taken on the local bus within the last two weeks. )
**The use of the phrase, `` boogity-boogity dark-skinned part of town'' **
Do n't use this phrase.
Anyways, try to get in touch with me, as I'm hoping to have everything finalized for Thursday's shoot. Unfortunately, I only have access to my camera and sound equipment, and have no knowledge of where you could rent an alpaca in this part of the state.
Best,
Dale Lonergan, Hot Shots Advertising
--
Get $ 5 off your next tow and read more stories at /r/highpothetically
|
[ WP ] The remains of the human race live in a glass dome with no entrance or exit which protects them from the wasteland on the outside , one morning a dusty hand print appears on the outside
| For two hundred years we resided in the Sanctuary, locked away from the nuclear holocaust that had ravaged the once green and beautiful lands outside. The dome was constructed with the most advanced materials our ancestors could develop, the all-mighty NASA had dedicated nearly a decade to its construction as the nuclear winter settled across the land. The mottled gray mush of vaporized civilization had settled, feet deep in some areas, blocking all sunlight and sight. A rush in construction did n't allow for the video and sensors originally meant for the facility.
So it was here we made our home, tending crops given life by artificial solar farms. Tending trees for construction, and passing down our culture during the last three generations.
When the hand print appeared on the outside of the dome, displacing the centuries of dust that has settled there, immediate panic ensued as the highest echelons of government warned caution. Simultaneously, the airlock to the outside became active ( albeit it became active to the sound of an old dusty klaxon going off - waking the entire colony ). I had spent most of my career as maintenance chief trying to figure out why it was disabled, for the last two hundred years we had been effectively hermetically sealed inside with tools to break it open. There was no decree handed down from our ancestors on how to handle this situation, it was entirely alien to our culture.
No sunlight shown through the hand print, even during our day cycle it remained as black as the depths of night when the solar farms went to sleep. Peering through it produced no results.
All councilmen, including myself, sat at our round table discussing the issue.
`` Gentlemen and Ladies of the Council, I would like to extend my gratitude to you all for maintaining such level headed composure during these trying times'' Gil opened the dialogue, a thick and brutish looking man in his early seventies whose voice was gravelly like a grinding wheat mill.
`` Yes Gil, we must work together to overcome this predicament. We can not pretend it is nothing, but we ca n't approach it as if some foreign invader is here to undo us.'' Dianne responded, her shrill but composed voice cut above the agreeable grunts of the others. She brushed aside the white locks of hair from her eyes, revealing a wrinkled and somber face.
The remaining three other council members nodded agreement. Simon was young and ambitious, inheriting his position on the council from his father who contributed his life to educating the younger generations through government-funded schooling. Aliah had golden brown skin, and she often favored the opinions of Simon, voting to gain his favor. Then there was Albert, well into this nineties he was the oldest alive in the dome, he provided an almost spiritual leadership to the colony. Everyone provided him the respect of an elder, despite the position they take with his preferred policy, at very least because he descended from one of the scientists who constructed the dome instead of a selected family.
`` I ca n't believe I am saying this, but I think I am going to propose we investigate outside of the dome-'' Simon began, being cut off by what was almost a squeak from Aliah. `` You ca n't be serious?''
`` I am quite serious'' he stared briefly at Aliah until she eased back into her chair, disengaging. ``... Our founding writings say the Dome was located in an area with minimal concern for radiation. It's purpose was more to maintain arable soil and fauna during the nuclear winter.''
`` While this might be true, we ca n't lose sight of the possibility that there may have been hostile survivors outside of our colony. The dome will protect us from damn near anything, our threadbare armors in storage ca n't provide that.'' Albert spoke, his voice an inconsistent grumble with plosives causing his bushy moustache to poof away from his mouth.
`` What about the damage opening the dome could do to our stabilized ecosystem inside?'' Gil asked, facing Dianne, who was the lead environmental scientist in the colony.
`` The damage would be minimal due to the airlock design the creators left us with, this would mean almost no contaminates could enter or leave the dome.'' Dianne replied.
`` I vote in favor of a brief check on the outside dome where the handprint was placed.'' Albert began, surprising the other council members. ``... We must know more, and it is obvious we are convened here to justify such an expedition. All we are doing is wasting precious time debating the pros and cons.''
Albert turned to me, I had been quiet during the entire meeting. `` I want you to do it, Singer. You are the most familiar with the Dome's maintenance routines and you know the schematics like no other alive. I ask not as your elder, but as your long time friend and council colleague.''
The air in the room hung still, the idle nervous movements of each person could be heard during the intervening seconds before my response. It was most unsettling, and I spoke quickly to push away the silence.
`` Sure.'' I said, nodding, immediately angry at myself for such a simple response to the Elder's request - and for agreeing.
-- -- Later
I felt like the ancient desert people some of our nursery rhymes speak of. A long cloth wrapped around my head and face, the best defense the colony could muster against the winter dust coating the dome. A long duster, cut off just below the knee. Boots that climb my shins, and ancient leather gloves lovingly oiled for centuries. I looked like a fairy tale demon of the night.
As I approached the exit gate, I was aware of the silence that had fallen on the crowd gathered to witness my exit. I stepped into the airlock, and the door closed behind me. The air cycle only took a few moments before a loud gust of air signaled the seal to the outside had broken. I could feel sweat forming under my heavy clothing, bracing against the expected cold outside.
It felt normal, Totally normal. No deep freeze, no overbearing heat. Confusion began to settle in my hindbrain as the outer gate slowly opened to the tune of ancient servos wheezing. It was pitch black outside, the few feet of land lit by the light from the airlock gave no hint of terrain. A flat white dusting of nuclear winter smudge. I took a cautious step out, and looked around, listening. Nothing, still air. It was dead.
`` Has the sun gone out?'' I asked myself, seeking to fill the blank emptiness with something, anything. I could already feel my nerves jumping, the unnatural darkness bothered me deeply. The part of your mind that elicits ghosts and demons from the darkness under your bed as a child. I took stock of my surroundings, the handprint was roughly two hundred feet to my right. The dome gave off just enough of a glow through the murky coating that I should be able to find my way. I set out, taking my steps carefully at first. Soon, I was carrying myself along at a comfortable pace. I saw the hand print before I got to it, around the domes curvature another fifty feet away. A brilliant glimmer of light being caught in slowly dancing plumes of dust acted as a navigation waypoint.
I approached more slowly, and as I got close I began to peer in through the hand print. On the other side was the council, their faces lighting up in earnest as they saw my face bathed in light from the dome. The first thing to be seen through the handprint from the inside.
The only footprints were my own, but that was n't unreasonable if the outside experienced wind storms. It has been several days since the handprint appeared, but if that were true why was the handprint still so pristine? What was even out here, there was no light or sound. My hindbrain told me to run, to jump, to dive for cover. There was nothing there, and it bothered the ever loving hell out of me.
My tensed up body, strung up and twisted like the knot in an ancient ballista ready to fire, exploded in fury and pain when I heard the thunk deep in the darkness surrounding me. A hollow metallic explosion that sent a shock through my body that could rival a punch to the gut in a childhood brawl. My surroundings changed, although I could not identify exactly how at first. I glanced through the hand print, locking eyes with Albert. His smile slowly formed into a frown, melting away as his moustache once more hung over and concealed his lips. The sorrow in his eyes betrayed a fear he had since he requested this mission of me. Another explosive thunk echoed throughout the wasteland, causing me to jump and lose my footing. I fell against the dome, and its slick surface sent me sliding to the ground to painfully impact against my tailbone. With me I took a great swath of the toxic dust, exposing the landscape surrounding the dome to those waiting impatiently inside their faces wrinkled in worry.
Thunk. Thunk. With each sound, the room grew brighter. I thought I could see a horizon distantly over the flat terrain surrounding the dome. The sounds grew closer, until finally they were overhead.
THUNK
The area around me was bathed in light, the matte ground betrayed of its nature. It was not soil, it was the same ancient synthetic material as the interior of our work compartments. The thunking continued, and realization struck me in the heart as I saw light trim out the remainder of a tremendous square around the dome. Hundreds of feet away, a great wall rose far above us. Thousands of large holes of light pierced through the sky, no the ceiling. The dome was inside of another structure.
I stood and turned back towards the council members. Several of their faces, Albert included, showed they had the same revelation as me. Behind me I could hear an alien rumble, familiar in that I recognized it as being mechanical immediately. I turned to face the...
Cont. in reply
|
[ WP ] `` What do I dream of ? I dream of fire . Ash . Pain . Silence . ''
| ``... I do n't want to answer'' Katie responded. Numb, from the forty minutes or so she lay in the chair.
`` I see...'' Dr. Rickman sighed. `` Katie. I can not help you if you do not open up to me.''
`` I do n't *need* help.'' Katie replied, exasperated.'*How many times do I need to tell him? *.' She was restless. Her sleep had dwindled ever since her incident. `` I'm fine. I promise.''
`` If you are fine, Katie, then why are you here?'' Dr. Rickman inquired.'*I will not give up trying Katie. I know something is amiss*' he thought.
Katie slowly takes in a breath. `` I'm here because I'm being forced.'' She replied allowing her breath to take away some of her stress.'*It's not that I do n't want help... It's that you wo n't believe me. *'
Dr. Rickman lifted his glasses and began to inspect the lenses. `` You are being forced. I will not deny you that. Although, Katie, perhaps you should consider *why* you are being forced to see me?'' His eyes shifting focus, staring deeply at Katie.
'*I know why I'm here. Just stop... Please*.' Katie sniffed and noticed a tear rolling down her cheek. She lifts her head and sits upright. `` Fine. You want to know, I'll tell you. You wo n't believe me anyway.''
`` Try me.'' Dr. Rickman reached out and softly grabbed Katies hand. `` You can trust me Katie.''
Katie sighs. `` Ever since the incident. If I am lucky enough to sleep, then I dream of a place.''
`` Tell me about this place Katie.'' Dr. Rickman implores.'*I need as much information as you are willing to give. *'
Katie looks down. `` Well... It is a place, and it is not a place... If that makes sense?''
'*Not really. *' Dr. Rickman thought. But it was best not to let Katie know that. `` Can you describe this place, Katie?''
`` It's dark. There is n't much to see except a thick fog on the floor. So thick I ca n't see my feet. And it's flooded, up to my ankles at the least'' Katie begins to slowly lift her gaze.
`` Go on. What else?'' Dr Rickman pushes, pen in hand, writing down each detail of this dream of Katie's.
`` It's quiet.'' She whispered. Her eyes locked with Dr. Rickman's. `` I want to move but I feel paralysed. I feel I should n't, I do n't want to be there I just want to go away...'' Tears streaking her cheeks now.
'*Good. This is good. *' Thinks Dr. Rickman. `` And why do you feel paralysed Katie? What are you afraid of?'' he prompts.
Katies eyes quiver. Her stare intense. `` The flames. They come. Out of nowhere, erupting, as high as mountains. All around me, and, and... I can *feel* them... As if they were really there, I can truly feel them Doctor and it burns, it burns so much, each time I feel as if I'm stuck, for a hundred years in this great blaze which tears through my body, ripping skin from flesh, then flesh from bone and eventually... I am nothing... And the flames disappear.'' Katie begins to weep, gasping for air with each sniffle.
Dr. Rickman squeezes her hands lightly, assuring her that she is not in her dream, but in reality. `` Here'' He hands Katie a tissue. As Katie begins to wipe her tears and compose herself Dr. Rickman scratches down some more notes on his parchment.
`` So then what happens Katie?'' He asks.
`` I wake up.'' Katie replies softly.
`` Very good Katie, this is very good. I think this will be all for today, do you need me to walk you to your quarters?'' Dr. Rickman inquires. Conscious about keeping his tone soft.
`` No... I'll go alone...'' Katie stands from the leather chair and moves towards the door.
`` We'll continue next time Katie.''
Katie stops at the door, `` One more thing Doctor... When I awaken I notice... I notice... Ash...''
`` I see... Thank you Katie''
Once she had left and the door close. Dr. Rickman lifts his parchment and begins to examine his notes. He reaches for his pen to scribble down one last note at the base of the parchment.
'Success. Patient No. 12 has shifted. After 11 failed experiments we have induced, through No. 12's *Incident* ( See classified document No.1202 ), true trans-dimensional travel.'
Dr. Rickman places down his parchment and pen.'*She may have been a success... But what have we awoken in the darkness? *'
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[ WP ] Today you learn that you are actually the only human on Earth ...
| Dear Journal,
This has been the most interesting of days. Long have I wondered at existence, and the nature of the world. On this most fortunate of days I have seen the truth! The universe was opened to me and my senses were unveiled, God Himself blessed me with the ultimate truth: there is no other than myself! Not even this, oh my blessed journal, is real, not the words nor pen nor page nor binding. All I see is false, for God has shown it to be so, and I shall spread the word -- though only for my own peace of mind. ( After all there is nothing in the universe but this )
Sincerely your instantiator and most enlightened owner,
RenΓ© Descartes
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[ WP ] Death is mortal , albeit with a long lifespan . When he nears his end , he chooses a new Death . You were chosen .
| October 31st, 2000. Halloween, in other words. Outside, children were running from house to house, dressed in costumes. Batman and Superman bantered about their candy haul, while a witch and a knight prepared to throw eggs at someone's house. They all avoided one house in particular, however. It was the only one on that street that had a sign on the door. `` No candy this year,'' it read, and though the local children were always disappointed by such things, they left it well alone.
-- -
`` Your name is Dorothy, yes?''
`` It is.''
`` And you know that you are to be my replacement.''
`` I do.''
`` Good. It will begin when the clock strikes midnight. That is how long you have to relish your mortality.''
Dorothy sat across a table from a cloaked figure. She had come to know him to be a physical manifestation of `` Death'', or at least, something like that. `` In my seventeen years, I have enjoyed my mortality well enough. I knew from an early age that this was coming, as my parents did not make efforts to hide it.'' She lightly cleared her throat, before continuing. `` They said that our family line has held this tradition for a very long time, but would not tell me of the exact history. Perhaps they themselves did not know.''
`` I will tell you, then. Every two-hundred and fifty years, a child is born that will inherit the mantle of the Reaper,'' Death said, its unearthly voice echoing from beneath its robe's hood. `` You were the closest of your parent's children to maturity, and so it falls unto you.''
Dorothy nodded shortly. `` I do not mind. It is better to have true direction, than to have none at all,'' she quietly said. `` I will accept it. But, I do have a question. Why this day? What is so significant about Halloween?''
`` It is not the holiday itself that is significant. It is the day,'' Death said, `` It is when the Reaper's powers are at their strongest.''
`` But... why? What happens that is so special?''
`` Have you heard of DΓa de Muertos, Dorothy? It is the Day of the Dead, and it begins alongside Halloween. It is a holiday wherein mortals celebrate death, praying for and remembering their fallen friends and family. It is those prayers -- the acknowledgment and reverence of death -- that gives us strength. To pass our strength on to a new heir on this day ensures that the new heir will be a strong one.''
`` I... see. I suppose I understand. I am sure I will come to fully understand it within only a few years,'' Dorothy said, before falling rather silent. She and Death simply stared across the table at each other for some time.
`` Dorothy, could I ask you to do something for me, after I have passed on?'' Death asked, breaking the silence. In response, Dorothy simply nodded. `` There exists a woman known as War. I am certain you will meet with her some time after taking on my mantle. Tell her that I apologize for passing on without bidding her farewell.''
`` Why not seek her out yourself and do it before midnight?'' Dorothy asked, rather coldly.
`` There is a reason. That is, she is quite beautiful. It is difficult to speak with her,'' Death said, sounding oddly like a smitten, confused young man. `` We Reapers are chosen from human candidates. I was once a human, just as you are now. You can understand why I say this, yes?''
`` You like her,'' Dorothy dully said. `` I will pass on those words, then. You may rest easy knowing that.''
`` Very well. Thank you. I am glad, in my final hours, to know that my family line still carries the integrity of my own forebears.''
-- -
Dorothy found herself seated in the back of a limousine. She looked to a watch on her wrist, that had appeared at some point during the process of her inheriting the Reaper's mantle. It was 12:32 AM.
`` So you're the old fart's replacement, huh?'' the chauffeur in the front of the limousine asked. `` Name's Rutyle. What's yours?''
Dorothy firmly said her own name. `` It is a pleasure,'' she said, `` But I must wonder... why am I sitting inside of a limousine?''
Rutyle let out a shrill, girlish laugh. `` Simple. It's your transportation,'' she said, `` You ca n't just teleport everywhere. That'd be super weird, and also kind of impossible. You've got ta know where you're going before you can teleport, y'know?''
Accepting that for an answer, Dorothy sunk back into her seat. The limo really was quite nice. Something the girl could get used to, certainly. `` So then... do I do nothing but go from place to place, reaping the souls of the dead?''
`` Hell no. That's what your subordinates do,'' Rutyle said, `` You? You handle all the special cases.'' Dorothy sat quietly for a moment, before asking her just what she meant by'special cases'. `` You do n't know?''
`` You deal with the tough catches. If someone's will is strong enough, they can refuse to die. That can cause problems. You deal with those guys,'' explained Rutyle, `` Got it?''
`` I believe so,'' Dorothy said. `` I was unaware, until this moment.''
`` You'll be fine. Strong family line, and all that. The old man was pretty good at his job,'' Rutyle said, `` But, damn... I was hoping I'd get someone with a personality. You're just like ol' Donovan, y'know? Cold and proper and shit.''
`` Are we that similar? I had n't noticed.''
`` Really similar. You talk like someone from the eighteen-fifties or something, damn. Oh, well. Maybe the next kid in twenty-two fifty'll be cool.''
The limousine jolted into motion, suddenly screaming off down the street.
-- -
( Did n't really know how to end it, again. But it's a thing. Used the same characters from [ another prompt I did ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4jth3d/wp_your_significant_other_has_committed_suicide/d39idup ) a few days ago, so that was fun. Some sick, twisted part of me really likes writing up characters that are a little bit emotionally challenged. EDIT: just realized I messed up the date at the end but it was small and I'm bad with numbers. )
|
[ WP ] `` Savour this sunset , gentlemen . It might be the last one we ever see . ''
| `` Savor this sunset, gentlemen. It might be the last one we ever see,'' said the captain. He raised his hand to the pull switch and firmly wrapped his fingers around the string. Might be, he said. But everyone in the company knew it was the very last of it. The very, very last. It was just that the captain could n't dare to say it out aloud that this is the end. My eyes were absorbing the dying last of starry photons of this cosmos. The artificial sun was now below horizon and the sky behind us were turning blue to dark navy.
`` Captain?'' said Roberto Jr. He did n't say anything beyond that, but the captain knew what he meant. All of us knew what he meant and I'd have applauded him for his bravery if the air was n't so heavy. And he meant this: Do it. Just pull the string. Turn off the sun. The artificial sun had enough energy to burn for several more hours but not enough for it to rekindle. The captain and the company decided that rather than waiting for the inevitable to come get us, we'd go out with grace by our own hand. We the humanity will signal the death of the universe.
The captain rolled the pull switch around his finger and gave a slight pull. Click. And just like that, the last of the sun was over. The universe lost the final light. Of course, it'd take about 9 minutes for the total darkness to reach us. And it may take several millions of years for this dying of light to reach the other parts of universe. Although there wo n't be anybody to witness it. There will be only us, the seven of us, here on a solitary planet. The lone survivors of the decaying of life itself.
`` Well, what are we gon na eat tonight?'' said Han Ming. Probably burritos, since Alejandro was on the kitchen duty today. The death knell has toll for the universe, but there was some battery left in our bunker. By some, I meant enough for the seven of us to use until the end of our days. And enough resources to feed ourselves too. Of course, we'd be stuck inside it after the sunless days will freeze the ground bunker entrance shut, but it's not like we enjoyed walking around this desert planet.
`` Oh, come on, Han. I'm being all emotional and poetic here,'' said the captain.
`` Well, it was going to happen. So, what? I'm just more worried about shit food Alejandro is going to make with Foodmold paste at the moment. Such waste of the paste.''
`` So, fried rice it is then?'' Alejandro shot back. By the fried rice, he was obviously sarcastically referring to the failed mess of fried rice -- I would n't call it rice, since it was one big chunk -- that was a result of the last Foolmold malfunction. And the other men of the company jumped into an argument, as usual, about the taste of each other's foods. Huh. I thought this moment was going to be a lot more solemn and serious.
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[ WP ] Your roommate is the serial killer on the news . However , he 's probably one of the nicest people you know , and he 's very respectful , discreet , and moral in his deeds . Neither of you really bring it up until one day he says , `` I 'm bored . Got anyone in mind for me to ... y'know ? ''
| Fredrick sat in his leather recliner, admiring his stainless steel knife. He pondered that if the knife were not stainless, it would have been crimson by now from the 99 people he had killed. It kind of a weekly thing- he'd pick a person on Monday, the only requirement being that they lived in the United States, and over the course of the week he would find and kill them, leaving no evidence other than his signature cigarette he'd plant in their mouths. But today was n't just going to be his 100th kill, it was his roommate's birthday. His roommate, Isaac, never commented on his hobby despite witnessing him planning his murders on a weekly basis. And for his beloved roommate's birthday, he decided to give him a coupon. It was not a lame or tacky coupon like a free car wash - it simply had the phrase `` one free kill'' on the front and `` expires midnight'' on the back. During Isaac's makeshift birthday party, Fredrick bestowed the coupon onto him.
`` What's this?'' said Isaac, staring blankly at the small white coupon.
`` It's a boon- any man or woman over 18 of your choosing can be dead withing a week. All you have to choose and it'll be done.''
`` Are you insane? Wait do n't answer that.''
Isaac paced around their budget apartment. Of course there were people he did n't like but he did n't want them dead.
`` Do n't take too long. You got until midnight.'' said Fredrick, waiting for his command to kill.
It was 11:47 pm when it came to Isaac- he knew exactly who he wanted dead. It would take a lot of work, but Isaac knew it was for the better. With hesitation, he walked back to the kitchen, still reeking of cake.
`` I want you to kill my ex.''
|
[ WP ] Reverse Attack on Titan ! Humanity has been plagued / rather annoyed by tiny humanoids flying around with swords . You 're about to have your first encounter with them
| I always wanted to know what was inside those walls. Everyone always made it sound so mysterious. These.... `` beings''.... they are supposed to be a fraction of our size but look exactly the same as us! I've only heard stories from the elders about the beings trying to wipe out our race, which always confused me. Why would they do that? It's not like we were eating them or anything.
I'm not allowed to go near the walls. No one has seen any of them in decades, there probably are n't any left. I could just take a little peak inside the walls, that would n't hurt anything. No one would even know I was here in the first place. I tiptoe up to the walls that comes up to my shoulders. Hopefully the beings did n't think this would keep anyone out, did they? I peeped over the edge and some bugs start to buzz around my head. I swat them away so I can get a good look at this tiny little village behind this wall. The bugs are persistent.
`` **Ouch! ** one of them bit me!''
I smack the back of my neck. That one was juicy, it splattered on my hand. I look at the mess from the bug and it's.. it's blood. Is that mine? No. This is a tiny little mangled body I'm holding in my hand right now. Oh dear god, it's still alive. It's still trying to.. talk?
`` Why have you come back? We have n't seen any titans in decades. We've just rebuilt civilization and you have to come terrorize us again???''
Terrorize? Titans? What in the world is this thing talking about? I feel myself start to panic. The elders are gon na be SO pissed off that I have found and maimed one of the pests that we talk so much about. They ca n't know. And they wo n't.
The screaming little thing sticks his miniature shiv into my hand with what little strength he has. It's just enough to annoy me. Then he calls his `` reinforcements''. There's a whole fleet of pests staring me down from the top of the wall. I'm growing more and more angry with these things. I swat a couple away that are circling my head. I've had enough of this, I forgot to have lunch today and my blood sugar is low and these annoying little shits keep blaming me for their civilization going to crap decades ago. My hunger is overpowering at this point, my stomach is growling. One of the `` bugs'' is flying right towards my face with one of their little shivs. I've had enough of this. I chomp him in mid air.
And the flavor that took over my mouth was indescribable. It was like an ocean wave sweeping over my whole body. We've been on a strict vegetarian diet for as long as I can remember. I swing my hand across the top of the wall and grab a handful of them. I pop them in my mouth one at a time like blueberries. Each one is just as delicious as the last. This flavor! This texture! I've never experienced anything like it. My mind just keeps saying'more, more, more', but I've already finished off their whole group. Guess it's time to go home now and have my actual lunch.
I glance at the village and... there's a crowd gathered, watching everything that just happened. The elders are gon na be so pissed. I'm still famished. Better not leave any evidence....
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[ IP ] Dead End ...
| This house felt cold and grey, like Ohio in January. The feeling of feeling unique was a feeling that could never really stay with me. Always questioning, always thinking, always feeling like a waste of time⦠a waste of life. As I sat there thinking she walks in the room. She knows me, she knows what that face means.
β You β ve got nothing to worry about. β She says as she sits next to me, β Please stop being like this. Your life is going great right now. You β ve got a new job, a new place to live, you β ve moved into a big new city, and most importantly, you β ve got me. β
Her voice was comforting but did not mean a thing because I knew all of this and yet still, I sit here thinking. Everything was so warm and sunny to her and I felt it. I could see the warmth of her heart through her eyes; I could feel the warmth of her heart through the shining of her smile. But I β m, sorry I β m like this and that β s all I could say, β I β m sorry for feeling this way. β
She moved closer, this girl I knew would stick with me through anything. I knew if she saw me slipping she β d slip with me too and that β s exactly what I didn β t want her to do. I told her thank you for staying by my side but I have to go downstairs and finish unpacking my things. I left with, β Thanks darling dear for everything. β
Moments later, after taking it all in, she follows me to where I β ve been. The sun was out, it shined like her heart, and you could see it out the window. It was truly a lovely day. She was making her way down the stairs only to stop by the window to see me on the floor OD β d. I was selfish enough to do this to her and did nothing to stop it, and knew she β d slip with me too. I β m sorry.
|
[ WP ] Every step you take causes your body to age a year , but not taking steps freezes your aging process .
| I scanned the isles looking for the perfect ingredients. This cake would be awesome, nothing would stop my special day. The last ingredient on the list was the icing, could n't have cake without the icing. *Of course*, it was just out of reach. Thankfully an employee was nearby and grabbed it for me. Anything above the 3rd row of food was normally not bothered with but like I said, this was a special day.
I had been in this wheelchair since my parents first taught me how to walk and discovered that with each step, their little 2 year old baby had become 3, 4, 5 years old. The aging happened almost instantly so from then on and after a month in the hospital, it was decided that I would remain in a wheelchair. Except on birthdays.
I would be taking my 25th step tonight and I could n't wait.
|
[ WP ] Two very old immortals meet each other on a busy street by chance . Each having believed they were the only one until now .
| There they were, in separate parts of this very world. She was coping with her life, and all the things that it came with. Whereas he was living with the realisation that he was living. Being young or so... He was when compared to the thought of the journey that was awaiting him
She was done, and yet was n't. The pain was killing her.
All the life's that had ended, all the love that she had lost. The only thing that she wished for was for it to end. But it did n't, and neither did the pain.
They both left their life's. She did, to distract herself from her miseries, he did for a new beginning. They both took everything that meant something to them. For her, it meant letters from her loved ones; for him, it meant his clothes and other things of no value, as he never had a place where he belonged or anyone who wanted him in his life.
They both took off to wherever their hearts desired and travelled as far as they could have. As figured, fate got them together. They both ended up where they thought they wanted to be... But being there was n't all what they expected. They realized the feelings that brought them there were misplaced, though they still could n't figure from where and for what those feelings emerged.
They both continued to live their life's just as it was before. Nothing changed, nothing happened... until it did. They both took off yet again, took off to where they were lead to. They walked until their feet ached and then walked some more. They walked until they found what they were led to; led to each other. They both looked at each other's eyes and in a glance realized what they were, realized that they were soulmates. And they fuk'ed and after that I turned off the most well written porno ever.
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[ WP ] You are a member of the twenty-fifth generation on a non-FTL ship that has finally arrived at a habitable planet . Something is waiting for you on the surface .
| `` Scans are coming in, hold up.'' Johnston's voice was smooth, articulate and crisp. Each letter in that sentence well-worn like the steps of an old university, smoothed by the tread of an ocean of repetitions.
But even so, Evans' heart skipped a beat every time when the large, holographic dome in the center of the bridge parsed the tidal wave of information ramming against it and the cabin lights dimmed to let its algae-green glow make them both look alien.
It only took a quick scan with his own eyes to smother the eager excitement every time. Glaring red bold text, all in the same columns. Radiation, no ecosystem, no atmosphere, no core, and any one of these things would kill the planet as a candidate. `` Planet's dead, let's move on,'' flowed off his lips. He did n't even need to look.
Michaels, the navigator, had long since ceased to pay attention to the globe. Its pale green light met merely the back of her chair as she tapped a single button. She had already plotted a course, and Evans' command was but a formality. `` We're on our way to Beta Cygni Three,'' she said, slowly spinning in her chair. That sentence, too, was crushed smooth as sand by its predecessors.
The first time had been different; they were the twenty-fifth generation, the peak of the normal distribution, the ones with the highest chances of success, genes for leadership and decision-making selected rather than mechanical skill. Of course, in their minds, this meant that the very first planet they visited would be *the one*, and they would be known as the first generation, the prime generation.
But this was the fifth system of multiple dense, rocky planets, and this was the second candidate within that system. They were all aware of the slow ticking-down of all the numbers on this ship: the efficiency of the reactor, the number of probes they had left, the sustainability coefficient of their farms, the effectiveness of their radiation shielding, and the list went on and on.
And, stubbornly, abhorrently, the planets refused to bend to their will. Evans' cool, calm steps back towards the hibernation chamber weighed down on himβthe attractiveness of compromise was growing. They abandoned the first planet they scanned, even though it was free of the red cancer in the far-right column. Too hot, they had said in their first naΓ―ve debate, and the atmosphere's too thin. It's a barren, desert planet, not suited to be the seat of human colonization! Foolish.
___
`` Scans are coming in, hold up.''
A bright green glow. Evans' eyes twitched slightly as the far right column did n't fill up.
`` Let's not get out hopes up too high, now,'' Johnson said, slowly, his voice cracking as it treaded new ground. `` The probe's still sending data.''
But the ledge of hope had clung to all their hearts, grappling for purchase and dilating their eyes. Michaels turned around, her chair squeaking slightly in protest.
The right column impassively, inertly, remained blank. `` Data stream's all done,'' said Johnson. `` We have what we have.''
`` We're taking it,'' Evans said, blinking twice. `` It's even better than the first world. Atmosphere, water, comfortable temperature, it's damn near Eden.''
On an intellectual level, they all knew there should have been a debate. Michaels played the devil's advocate out of seldom routine. `` Water's too poisonous for advanced life,'' she said flatly. `` Not a lot of land on the planet.''
`` Let's get a quick vote,'' Evans concluded. `` All those in favor?'' Three, weary hands. `` Settled.''
___
None of them had stepped outside the sealed sphere of the command module in their entire lives, let alone a full hour after all the shuddering and jittering had come to a halt. They were all staring at the chipper green `` OK'' symbol, and had been for a while.
Evans was the first to spring out, with a quick burst of rational energy. Without a word, the other two followed suit into the light of a brave new world.
Their eyes, myopic from so many years in screens, took a while to expose themselves to the harsh sunlight. Spots swirled around in vision and all Michaels and Johnston could hear was the slow, grinding weight of Evans' first words on the planet in their radios.
`` Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god... ``
One thing came into focus in Johnston's view. A battered green sign, bordered with a bright reflective paint and half-covered with vine, reading `` Haven'' in plain English.
One thing came into focus in Michaels' view. A bright and vibrant jungle, growing in the smashed honeycomb carcass of an arcology, collapsing in on itself while stabbing vainly at the sky.
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[ WP ] A self-aware search engine has started to play Cupid using the tracking data it has acquired .
| `` And why in the *hell* would I do --''
`` Listen to me Meren it's amazing, you wo n't regret it, I swear.''
She was to perplexed to just end the call with Steve.
`` I.. uh.. oooh,'' she broke into a fit of laughter when she realized what he was trying to do, `` you want to have phone sex! *Oh Steve*,'' she said in her best fake sultry seducing voice, `` is it that *hard* for you to be not by my side for a whole weekend?''
He deserved to be mocked, especially after such a feeble attempt to arouse her.
`` Jesus Meren, it's not what I was getting at, but if I tell you what it is about you would n't believe me anyway just do it. You do n't even have to start a video.''
The seriousness in his voice surprised her, at this point it was probably better to just go with it. Instead of asking any more questions she typed the URL in and waited for the site to load.
`` Well.. and now?'' She said as the site appeared.
`` Nothing now, just wait ok, it always needs some time.''
Before she could ask what *it* was, a pop-up appeared filling the whole site.
*Hot new singles in your area Meren Snyder! Please take your time to check them all out, they're all suitable candidates for long-term relationships and share similar pornographic preferences as you! *
The pop-up contained the names, pictures, various interests, their `` preferences'' and links to their facebook profiles.
Meren was bamboozled, it did n't seem fake, did someone hack each porn site to spill private information of the users?
Steve judged her silent correctly. `` Is n't that amazing Meren! It's all over the news! First they thought someone had hacked the sites, but it is a self-aware AI! Did you click on expand? Do it and it will give you a text on why the person is a over 75 % Match for you!''
She saw it now, a tiny blue link under each box that spelled `` expand'', and it in fact let a pretty long text appear, with very concrete information, on why this person appeared on your Cupid-list.
Meren had to admit that was amazing.
Just one thing bummed her pretty much out, Steve was n't on her list.
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[ WP ] Everyone on Earth has been feeling more tired lately .
| The airline business took off, no pun intended. People are weird.
How long did we wait? Way too long. We should have been looking towards the stars. We should have been finding a way off this roiling, blue ball, building space ships, traveling to other galaxies, colonizing planets that are n't about to be incinerated by their host star. Shoulda', coulda', woulda'. Humanity's words to live by. We should of engraved that shit on the side of the Voyager. Now the human race faces its final week before all the cities we built, books we wrote and people we slept with get lit on fire by the thing that gave us life in the first place.
As the Sun grew bloated in size, days became longer. We used to use the sunrise as a cue to wake up, but now it occupied the entire sky, twenty-four seven, making it hard to get some sleep.
And all anyone wants to do is fly. I'm a pilot, we're so close to the end and every single one of my flights since we first heard the news has been completely full. Maybe people are going to be with loved ones, maybe they want to pretend I can fly this seven forty-seven to another world, or maybe they want the plane to crash, who knows? Only thing I do know for sure is we're all extremely tired. Turn on the news expecting to see riots, looting, rape and pillaging, you'll be disappointed. We're all too sleepy to get that underway.
It's kind of pathetic. What kind of species lets itself get so boring when it knows it's going to die? Are n't we supposed to have an instinctual desire to survive? Maybe we're all just so bitter that this did n't need to happen. If we'd just focused and got our priorities straight, maybe we'd be living it up on a planet with half our gravity, but tough break I guess.
`` You gon na' do the thing?'' My co-pilot Richard asked me. I snapped back to reality, wondering how long I'd been zoned out for. Without a response, I looked at the intercom button and pressed it.
`` This is your captain speaking,'' I sighed. Then I yawned. `` We're headed... You all know where we're headed, you bought the damn tickets. Sit back, relax, relish in the fact that one of your last meals will be a bag of lightly salted peanuts and enjoy your flight.''
Why was I flying a plane and not home ordering hookers online, drinking scotch? Because flying is what I loved to do and I hid a bottle of scotch in my luggage. I did n't have anywhere better to be and planes were what I did for my entire life, so I guess I have a bit of an emotional attachment. The scotch helps that.
What it does n't help is my drooping eyelids. Why the hell was I so, damn, tired?
`` Man, you feelin' okay, sir?'' Richard asked.
`` Given the circumstances yeah.'' I squinted at looked at him. He was a pasty white and looked like he was about to pass out, so I gasped and said, `` Jesus dude! You do n't look good at all.''
`` Well fuck you too! Neither do you! That's why I asked if you were feelin' okay, you jerk.'' Now that he was saying it, I started noticing how not okay I was feeling. Not sick or in pain, but just drained. Like I did n't have any energy. Like I just wanted to stop.
We both yawned.
`` It's goin' around,'' Richard stated. `` Everyone's... Everyone's just not feelin' it.''
`` It'd be a miracle if they did.'' I looked around the cabin. All that was on my mind was sleep. That's all I wanted to do.
And from the looks of my growing tunnel vision, it appeared that's what was going to happen.
I looked toward Richard to try and tell him that I was going to pass out, but he was slouched over in his chair, eyes shut, chest rising and falling so lightly. Richard was out cold.
I got on the staff-com and yawned, `` Could on of the flight attendants come to the cabin.'' I waited three seconds for a response. It felt like an hour.
`` Anyone?''
Nothing.
My vision grew more and more shallow. My arms felt heavy, my chair felt warm. I could n't go any longer. I just wanted to sleep.
I removed my hands from the controls and slouched down further into my pilot seat. The plane began tilting forward, the windshield once filled with clouds, now filled with sprawling, green fields that grew bigger and bigger. I interlocked my fingers, laying my hands across my stomach. The plane rocketed towards the ground, faster and faster, gaining more momentum. Red lights started flashing. Beeps started beeping. I yawned one last time and before I drifted off to the best sleep of my entire life, I noticed something.
Silence. Complete silence. Not a single person in the cabin was screaming, panicking, making any noise at all.
They must have been asleep.
And now that there's no sunrise, I'm not sure when they'll wake up.
|
[ WP ] You are a freshly minted agent in the Bureau of Time Travel . You 're first mission : stop yet another yahoo from trying to kill Hitler .
| *Oh thank God that beeping has stopped. * It had been causing me a great deal of concern on my journey from 3045, as I did n't think a newly issued time machine should squeal and say ALERT so much. THAT however, was beside the point, I was here on my first mission. Apparently it is almost everyone's first mission, as it is common and usually fairly simple to complete.
Hitler, was one of the most hated figures in all of history, even in such a distant future from his own he was despised. Who would n't want to kill him? And with the ability to travel in time at your fingertips, there you have it, a bunch of gung-ho heroes out to save the population of the 1940's.
I rolled my eyes at the thought and unbuckled my harness, checking my location and the date. Both were correct and I affixed my disguise activator to my wrist, the input set for a personal guard. Thus allowing me easy access to the man himself, I shuddered.
Most of the individuals who came back meant well, but did n't understand the ramifications of the United States not going through an industrial boom, the creation of the atom bomb happening much much later, or the seeds of the Cold War being sown improperly. Hitler's madness, while terrible, was a necessary evil, it felt dirty to allow it, but I understood the dire consequences if history did not occur in the proper order.
With that I clicked the small button that activated my disguise and holstered my energy pistol.
`` Here we go.'' I stepped out of the ornate wooden door into a lavishly carpeted hallway. My clever ship had disguised itself as an office that no one but me would notice, technology was incredible sometimes right?
Slowly I made my way down the hall, checking the rooms as I went, searching for the FΓΌhrer. Around the bend and up some stairs, six more empty rooms, and I was starting to wonder if my machine had malfunctioned. That's when I heard the yelling. My feet could not run me there fast enough, of course the last door on the magical never ending hallway held what I sought.
I burst through the doors and what I saw almost blew my cover.
There he was, in all of his teensy moustached glory, pointing a pistol at a bleeding man who was screaming nonsense, a rudimentary time travel device snapped to his belt, his energy weapon lost with the use of his good arm. Pesky bullets.
The FΓΌhrer, to his credit stood there fairly stoically, my appearance only bolstering his confidence that he had the situation under control.
`` AND I WILL KILL STALIN, AND JOHN WILKES BOOTH, AND KIM-JUNG-IL, AND, AND, AND...''
Hitler cocked the pistol at the stuttering man and I rolled my eyes, setting my own weapon to neutralize before pulling it from its holster. German Satan nodded in approval until I aimed it at him, firing a taser round into his Nazi gut with a resounding `` Fuck you.''
He hit the floor like a sack of spuds and I looked to the errant time traveler, who had pissed himself. Of course he had, and now I had to take him into custody. I lifted the pistol to him.
`` Hands up.'' He lifted them, looking at the prone body of Adolf Hitler.
`` Is he?''
`` No, unfortunately he has to live. Sorry to burst your heroic bubble but this is bigger than a few million lives. Nuclear holocaust and whatnot without him, all kinds of extra nasty stuff.''
The man's face fell and his eyes slipped to his discarded pistol on the ground.
`` I would n't friend, I could set this to vaporize and remove your whole lower half before you even touched the grip. It would be better if you just came with me.'' I edged around him, bending to grab his gun from the carpet, would n't do to leave such a weapon in the past. `` Now, let's go, I'm meeting my mother for lunch in an hour and I would like to finish this paperwork before I go.''
His wrists were snapped in arachnid steel cuffs, and the travel device was removed from his belt. With a squeeze the cheap trinket crunched in my gloved fist. I motioned to the hallway and he sighed, looking at the still breathing body of his target one more time.
Slowly he plodded ahead of me, like a sullen child hoping his mother would change her mind about a denied treat.
`` We could change all of it you know.'' He muttered, I assumed he meant alter all of the repercussions of Hitler's premature death, which was crazy talk. There were n't enough hours in my lifetime to rectify that mess.
`` Nope, sorry Sir, we do n't have the manpower to do that. Here we are.'' I opened the closet door.
He stood there silently bleeding on the carpet.
`` I could n't even do it you know. There was just something about him, like he was lifeless already.''
`` No kidding numb-nuts the man kills over six million people. Most of the time when we are sent back here to stop this kind of shit, we end up having to save you morons who think you can handle an in the flesh super villain. Now get the fuck in the seat I'm hungry.'' I shoved him ungracefully in and slammed the door. Back to the year 3045, a beer, and a steak lunch.
-- -
Thanks for reading! Any feedback is greatly appreciated!
|
[ WP ] Every human has their soulmate 's last words to them engraved in their skin from birth .
| β Come on, Jar, just tell me, β Susan whined.
β Sorry, babe, no can do. You know how it goes. β Jared self-consciously pulled up his sleeves, as if Susan would rip them off just to see the words. Etched on everyone β s skin in careful script is a phrase, or maybe just the word. It β s the last thing their soulmate will ever say to them. Some people wear theirs on their sleeve, talking about it as they would the weather. Others keep theirs to themselves.
β Well, since you won β t tell me, I β m just going to assume they β re horribly embarrassing, β Susan proclaimed smugly. β Something like, β Ugh Jared, why can β t you get it up anymore? β sounds about right. β
Jared rolled his eyes while Susan let out an earthy laugh. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek.
β You know I β m just playing, β she assured him.
β Yeah, I know, β Jared took a breath, β but sometimes I wish you would stop worrying what the last words will be and just listen to what I β m saying now. β
Gazing into her eyes, Jared said, β I love you. β
Shivers ran up Susan β s spine and a look of panic abruptly took over her face. β Say something else. Now. β Jared β s lips fashioned themselves into an an β o β, realizing those were her words. Tears started trickling down her cheeks, leaving little dewy rivers in their wake.
β Fine. I am madly in love with you, Susan Blaine, and always will be. β
A relieved smile spread across her face. β Ditto. β
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
β Jared. Honey. β Susan paced the room nervously. Jared had been fighting cancer for months now, his condition rapidly deteriorated. Susan, helpless, watched him lose his ability to run, then walk, then stand. He wasn β t getting better.
β You don β t need to fight anymore. I can β t bear to see you suffer. β Susan bit back tears, β Just say the words. β
β Susan, we β ve been together for 38 years, I β m not leaving you now. β
β But this isn β t right. Please, just say it. Say, β I love you β. Then you can go. β
β No. I am madly in love with you, Susan Blaine, and always will be. β
Jared closed his eyes. The monitor β s line went flat and a piercing tone went off.
β No, β Susan whispered in disbelief. A legion of doctors flew in, checking his pulse, while Susan stood there, unmoving.
β Sorry, ma β am, he β s gone. β
β This can β t be happening. He can β t be gone. That can β t be it. β Susan dissolved, crumpling into a heap on the floor.
A doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. β Ma β am we know this is exceptionally hard for you, but we β ll support you the best we can. β
β No, you don β t understand. β Shaking with tears, she gestured frenetically to Jared. β He didn β t say it, β Susan sobbed and clawed at her sleeve, pulling back to reveal a faint scar. *I love you. *
β Those weren β t my words! β she screamed. β He wasn β t the one. β
|
[ WP ] There is no other deity except for the Devil himself . You have just found out his biggest scheme was creating the idea of 'God '
| I woke up outside an enormous cave that seemed to go downwards forever. I stood at the mouth of the cave and felt nothing except the darkness radiating from inside. The inside of the cave was moist and hot and it felt like I could n't breathe. And through the deep darkness I heard a voice,
`` Hello, mortal.''
I was paralyzed with fear because as soon as I heard the voice I knew where it was and who it was I was speaking with. `` I'm in Hell...'' I squeaked quietly and almost to to myself.
`` Yes you're in Hell, my home, my creation.''
`` But why? I lived a good life as a good person?'' No response. After what seemed like an eternity of silence I spoke again,
`` They say the greatest trick you ever pulled was convincing the world you did n't exist.''
The voice laughed and shook the entirety of the cave as his voice choked me and filled the air. `` No...... no the greatest trick I ever pulled was convincing the world that there is an alternative.''
`` There's no God.....?'' I asked scared, and defeated.
The voice laughed again but more violently this time as it shook my very being down to my soul.
`` I AM GOD''
|
[ WP ] Before they became gods of their domain , they were once humans who faced trial the opposite of which they now represent . Power also represents the extent to which they have suffered . You are the most powerful god of peace and happiness .
| Promethius paid for his prize. The universe was ending, and we were growing so quickly. We raced to find the roots of Eden β s apple tree before the heat death of the universe.
Compassion gave way to a violent urge to endure. Not as individuals, but a species. We became slaves and masters, but accepted our roles in the face of such an impossible fate.
A few lost hope and bucked the drive for preservation; they sought to spell beauty with the few notes they were given in the song of existence. They wasted precious entropy on the fleeting life of individuals. In the beginning we allowed it. Perhaps they were beautiful souls, but nature, the universe, did not take pause for a single one of them.
The only thing rewarded was the urge to survive.
So at the expense of all, we did.
We broke the backs of many a soul, slayed the resistant, starved millions for resources, and changed our very nature to become gods. We were human once, and will never forget from whence we came, but humanity does not survive. To beat death you must become the universe that is trying to kill you.
Now, after escaping death, through the pane of our plain, we⦠I, build Earth. I have been programmed to create humanity once again and I will, but I care not for humanity. They have not earned their place in the universe. What they are now⦠they will not be able to relate to if they decide to survive.
Perhaps, if I were to create a little more harmony...
|
[ IP ] Can you hear them singing ?
| Bruce lay in the mud, the rain washing away his blood and tears. `` How could that date have gone so badly? ``, he wondered. He had been excited about his date with Pamela all week. He thought she might enjoy a trip to the arborium. Pamela knew a lot about plants, but he thought he could impress her with what he had learned about several of the flowers that were grown there.Things started innocently enough, but the evening really took a turn for the weird when he started talking about the beautiful Hibiscus that grew at the end of one of the aisles. `` Can you hear them? ``, Pamela asked, `` can you hear them sing?'' She looked at him with her big green eyes. Bruce did n't know how to respond, frankly he thought the question was a bit weird. `` Sing?'' He unintentionally gave off a puzzled look. `` Yes, all of the plants sing'' Pamela responded. She smiled. Bruce smiled back. He did n't understand what she meant, but he thought that Pamela might want to take one of the flowers home, so he quickly plucked one. Bruce whispered, `` I know I'm not supposed to do this; but I DO know the owner so...'' `` NOOO! ``, Pamela interrupted, `` You're hurting them!''. Bruce woke up several hours later, the bright sunny day had been overtaken by a vicious thunderstorm. He just lay there, sad and alone as he wondered what the heck actually had happened. `` Bruce! Are you alright?'' Shouted an older gentleman, his tuxedo flapping in the wind. `` Yes Alfred, I'll be in in a bit.'' Bruce Wayne kept his distance from Pamela Lillian Isley from that day on.
Edit: I tried man.
|
[ EU ] You are a human who sees a large yellow something over your home . Convince the Vogons to spare the Earth .
| Arthur Dent was running out of ideas.
`` Well look, we have this really cool thing called'Marmite'.''
The Vogon tilted his head in confusion.
`` Maaar-mite?''
`` Yes, Marmite.'' Arthur exclaimed. `` You put it on toast, and eat it with your tea.'' I pulled a jar out of my bag. `` See? Marmite.''
Arthur handed the jar of Marmite over to the Vogon. The Vogon unscrewed the jar, and stuck a finger in. Scooping some of the dark brown paste up, it slowly stuck its finger back into its mouth.
`` AAAAAK!'' The Vogon grimaced, spitting the glob from his hideous, gelatinous mouth. `` POISON! VILE FILTH!''
The Vogon thrashed back and forth, a greenish slime foaming from its mouth. Finally, he flopped down, dead.
Arthur looked down, pitied by the monster.
`` Would you like some tea with that?''
|
[ WP ] All this ... All this for a bag of Doritos ?
| The $ 89 aluminum imitation katana whizzed through the air, its dull blade hitting the edge of a pink My Little Pony box, knocking it off the glass patio table.
β Excelsior! β the man shouted, bringing the weapon down with theatrics.
β Jesus, Steve. Do you parents know about this? β
β Goddamnit it, Matt. I β ve told you I changed my name to Kimo-San. The guy at *Japan LA* told me it means β Harbinger of Vengeance β and it totally reflects who I am. And **yes**, my parents know. My mom says she β s proud of me for being outdoors and exercising. β
β That β s great, dude. Any why did you ask me to come over? β
Steve held the blade at either end, placing it reverently on the table. β Please, Matt, sit with me. β
β Look, Steveβ¦ β
β Kimo-San. β
β Fine. Kimo-San. I don β t really have time for this. I have two projects that I β m running at deadlines for andβ¦ β
β This is more important than your corporate shill bullshit, Matt! Now sit, please! β
The swordsman β s gleam took Matt by surprise and despite his better judgment, he sat opposite.
β Good. Now, Matt-San, as you know I am in a blood feud with Dylan Masticon, or as he β s known in Japanese, Shit Stain-San. He has insulted my honor and that of my lady β s, and I have sworn an oath to vengeance. β
β Christ, dude. Isn β t Dylan in your Dungeons & Dragons group? And since when do you have a girl? β
β Shit Stain-San *was* in my D & D group before he began making up his own rules. He refused to die after my Level 18 Sorcerer cast *three* Shadow Evocations in a row and then he insisted that the high brush could hide him while he rested andβ¦ β
β Steve! Kimo-San. Look, I really don β t care. You have a soft minute to tell me why I β m here before I jet, got it? β
β Fine, fine. You really should learn the word *gaman*, Matt-San. So, after Shit Stain-San cheated like a geisha whore, he had the audacity, the unnerving depravity, to insult my beautiful Miko-San to her face! And I need you to help me defend her honor. β
Matt sighed heavily, his fingers digging into his scalp and thumbs rubbing against his eyes. β Who is Miko-San, dude? β he asked.
β My beloved, my betrothed, my shining Hoshi in the sky. My muse, myβ¦ β
β Is she that creepy ass body pillow you were going on about all last week? β
Steve rose up like a lumbering ox, his hands grasping the sword tightly and not drawing blood, but leaving small bruises that would be uncomfortable for several days. β You scoundrel, you roustabout! I will not have my princess maligned by yet another Philistine interloper! β
Matt stared with dead eyes. β Yeah, my apologies, Kimo-San. Can we please get to the part where you tell me what you need? β
β She β s real, β Steve said, eyes downcast and deflating back to the chair. β And she β s not a body pillow. She β s a plush *waifu*, which are very respected in the Land of the Rising Sun. β
β Okay. β
β Okay! Good! Now, Shit Stain-San β s mom is gone from 8 to 6 because she β s a slave to the man downtown, and normally he stays in their basement all day like a loser and playing PS3 like a double-loser, except today he β s camping outside Toys β R β Us for a limited edition My Little Pony set that I traded my dad β s tool set for a week ago, soβ¦ β
β What the hell, dude. You β re in your family β s basement playing shit almost every time I come over, andβ¦never mind. I hope you β re not suggesting we break into Dylan β s house. β
β Excuse me, Matt-San! I do not have a basement, I have a *highly customized senshi lounge* where I demonstrate my highly developed discipline and reaction time to losers on Xbox One. Not even in the same league! And I β m not suggesting anything. The bushido code demands satisfaction! β
β That β s nuts, man. No way. What the hell would you steal, anyway? β
A deep, wide smile broke across Steve β s face. Pools of saliva gathered at both corners of his mouth and threw out bubbles as breathed. β A bag of Doritos, β he replied.
β You are a fucking basket case, dude. I β m out. Done. Don β t call me again. You β re lucky I don β t call Dylan or the cops. β
β Wait, wait! Matt-San! Please, let me explain. If you β ve ever valued our 22 years of friendship, you will Kimo-San explain.
Matt halted himself, glaring at the man-child in front of him. The thick jowls shadowed only slightly by an oversize black and gold fedora, the greasy lips and green-tinted teeth that emitted a seemingly endless supply of flaky spittle, and the pungent deluge of sweat that poured from every corner. And yet, knowing the person for most of his life, there might still be something worth savingβ¦
β I β m listening. This is your one chance, bud. I β m listening. β
β Okay! Thank you Matt-San! You won β t regret it. Okay. So, I don β t plan to break anything or cause any damage or steal anything of material worth. This bag of Doritos, however, is a *super rare My Little Pony edition*, only 1,000 made in the world, and signed by Ashleigh Ball herself! Applejack! Applejack signed it! So you see, no one gets hurt, Dylan gets destroyed, and Miko-San β s honor is restored! It β s win-win-win! β
β So you β re still breaking into your friend β s house to steal his shit to avenge a fake slight to your fake-ass girlfriend. Look, dude. We β re done here. Not just right now, but for good. β
β Matt-San, please! Iβ¦ β
β No, dude. You β re 26, you live in your parents β basement, *and yes, it is a basement*, you haven β t worked since that Walmart gig in high school, and all you do is bitch at and piss on the world. I really hope for your sake you wake up soon and realize just how messed up everything you β re doing is. β
Steve watched Matt walk away with a slack-jawed expression, his eyes tearing up for just a moment before narrowing with a scowl. He made his way down to the basement where Miko-San was laying, propped up against a corner beanbag.
β Looks like we have two scores to settle now, Miko-San. β
|
[ WP ] You are a famous boxer , fighting in the biggest match of your life , the world is watching . After what seems to be a guaranteed loss , you suffer a sudden heart attack . Turns out more than just the world is watching , God 's got his own bets on you , and thought you could use a pep talk .
| As Harvey pushed through the crowd, his nerves settled. Boxing in Lagos was n't easy. The agreement with the World Boxing Federation did n't include language that he would fight in the home country of his challenger, but it did n't rule out that possibility either. He had never felt so alien during his training, could n't get comfortable with the nearly continuous fumes from the unchecked factories and fires, could n't get a good night's sleep with the ever-present chants. Chants that were always there, in the background, putting doubt in his mind. `` Har-vey will lose! Har-vey will lose! HAR-VEY WILL LOSE!''
`` Champ! Snap out of it!'' Patrick, his ringside coach screamed, barely being heard over the booing. `` Remember LA! This is n't any worse!'' The man's dark eyes were intense, a piercing focal point between the shine of his bald head and his dark beard. He probably wanted to step in the ring with me, an old fashioned tag team match.
Maybe it was n't worse, but LA was never this suffocating. They built a stadium for this fight. Promising it to the local football club when the fight was over. I'm not sure it will stand if I win tonight.
The face off in the ring before the bell put me in front of the statuesque Nigerian, Emmanuel Okafor. The Oak. 10-0 with 10 TKOs, 9 in the first round. He is certainly impressive, the biggest heavyweight I've faced. Our styles are so different. My calculating strikes, jabs and the endurance; never overwhelming opponents but never allowing them to hit me, never putting myself in a corner. Never receiving a beating.
When the referee briefed us, I understood why they called him The Oak. The pit in my stomach reappeared. I was n't supposed to read stories of the buildup but they were posted in the hotel. `` Most money ever bet on a fight.'' `` PPV sales through the roof.'' `` Okafor - Even Odds winner.'' I could feel public opinion sway against my championship belt. Against my 30 wins.
`` WEATHER THE FIRST ROUND!'' Patrick screamed as he put salts under my nose. `` Your life will never be harder than it will be for the next 3 minutes. Put it behind you!'' I swear he was smiling at me; I wanted to scream at him, tell him to step in the ring if he found it so exciting. I kept quiet though. The old sociopath would probably do it.
As the bell rang, we ran out to the center of the ring. My glove out for the ceremonial glove tap. Okafor's glove a massive target for my hand. As we tapped, an overhead hook flashed before my left eye. I fell. Darkness fell.
**THUD**
`` Most humans feel I mettle in their affairs because of previous sins or prayers.''
I woke with my hands up, no gloves, no crowd, no Lagos. White surrounded me, enveloped me, it reminded me of a cushion; a cushion that went on for infinity.
The voice continued, `` Such human thoughts... I mettle because I wager. I wager because I'm...'' The voice paused and something resembling a sigh overtook me. Shook me like a gale. `` BORED.''
`` Where am I?'' I gasped. I tried to crawl but the floor was not a floor, just another dimension of movement; I went down. The walls were not walls, adjacent to me and inconceivably far away simultaneously.
`` Who are you?''
The memory of the fight hit me and I smelled clean air, not the ozone and carbon of my last 4 months.
Another sigh. `` You're not religious, not a believer. I know your actions are fake. But if you must know, your mother would call it heaven. Scholars may call it purgatory but they're all wrong. Human language is so limited, so limiting.''
I lay still and the white allowed it. I did n't feel sore or abused, did the fight end so soon?
`` You're here because I got bored and wagered. On you. I will not let you disappoint me.''
The white disappeared and I fell into darkness. `` There is a special place for those mortals who fail me.'' It growled. `` One where they spend... Eternity.''
The black ground hit me, and I did not die but I was not alive. Bones broke and reassembled, I blacked out and came to. Hundreds of times this happened. Fall, hit, break, reassemble, repeat. The soreness of a fight was nothing compared to this. I could n't speak, ask the voice to stop. To scream, `` I understand.''
After what felt like an eternity, I stood on the spot, intact and energized. There was a mark of my punishment below me on the ebony rock. An indention only a millimeter deep but I understood its meaning. I looked around me and saw similar scenes: death, gore, horror, things I could n't describe, but I understood I had been spared from this infinite agony. And I smiled.
-- -- -- -- -
`` 6...'' I began to rise, never feeling better. `` 7....'' My legs were not weak or shaking, my mind was clear. `` 8....'' I smashed my gloves together and looked at The Oak. His grin wavered.
`` Worst 3 minutes of your life!'' I heard Patrick scream and I looked at him and smiled. His dark eyes emptied; he was seeing what I saw, what I lived.
-- -- -- -
`` How did you recover from the cheap shot, Harvey?'' The ringside reporter asked. The crowd was silent, their monster slain, slumped in a chair in the corner.
`` I went to Hell and back. The rest was easy.''
|
[ WP ] You 're cleaning out the house of your recently deceased grandfather . In his study you see a chess board , set up to play a new game . You move a piece in remembrance of when you two would play together . Later on in the day , you see a piece from the opponent 's side has moved .
| They told me to clean the house because I was the one who was closest to my late grandfather. In the twilight of his life, it had been I who had stayed loyally by his side, asked for medical leave from my job, and spent hours just sitting there watching him breathe. It was not meant to be disheartening, they said. It had been expected, that Opa would die, and take with him all of the memories of wooden chessboards and pawns that so colored my childhood.
They told me to clean the house and I listened, because through the fog of my grief I longed for a sign from God to tell me that Opa was still watching over me. I had photographs, memories, and dreams, but I needed something more. Reassurance, perhaps. I had never been religious, but after his death took to wearing a small golden cross around my neck. It steadied me.
I didn β t do well with loss. I meant to start cleaning that very first day. But I ran into a picture of me and my grandfather, me as a young girl perched on his lap, and I almost broke down. I would catalog later, I promised. For now, I would tackle the study.
The truth was, the study had been my childhood. It β s not that my parents didn β t love me, it β s that they were incapable of loving me as much as I needed them to, so often I found refuge on my grandfather β s lap. It was there, in the oversized leather chair, that I learnt how to play the game of kings and queens, of castles and knights, of bishops and pawns. It was there I learned that physical strength could never outweigh mental.
On that warm September afternoon, I walked into the study, where the chessboard lay gathering dust, pawns strewn about. A remnant, perhaps, of a game I couldn β t forget, and yet didn β t want to remember. For old time β s sake, I carefully put back the wooden pieces, feeling their warmth in my hand, laying them down on the board.
Nostalgia overtook me as I moved the first pawn. It hurt, to think that my grandfather would never again flick me in admonishment after I decapitated one of his pieces, that he would never pat me on the back after a well-earned checkmate, that his voice would never grace my ears again.
The study brought back too many emotions. I had tried, and failed, to stop the flow of tears at his funeral and wake, but swore after the events were over that I would never cry about him again. Crying was useless. It didn β t make me feel strong.
His open, airy kitchen became my workspace. I opened up my email and took care of business, sorting out my logical needs from my emotional distress. Busywork, I thought, would help alleviate some of my pain. That β s the thing about emotion. You can deny it exists until it resurfaces in a curling, swirling, hurling mess, and then you β re totally screwed.
It was later that night that I decided to return to the study. Armed with acceptance, I made my way back to the chessboard in order to pack it and some of its companions up for immediate transfer.
But there was only one problem. The black piece had moved. A black knight, specifically, and that was the oddest thing about it. Had it been a pawn, I could have accepted the explanation as the wind or my own clumsiness, but the black knight was now out of its cage.
My grandfather had begun moving the knight out and then back when we had first started playing, to hobble himself and give me three moves to do as I wished. It had become a tradition between us, and why I firmly believe I lost every chess competition I played in.
There sat the knight, gleaming and polished, proud and powerful.
β Opa? β I whispered.
A soft, warm breeze whipped its way around the room, smelling like the cologne my grandfather always wore, with a hint of sugar cookies. To some, this would be disconcerting. To me, it was beautiful.
God had given me my sign, and my Opa lay entombed in the constellations, among millions of glimmering stars, watching me from another dimension.
|
[ WP ] Demons are not born , they are made from humans surviving in hell long enough .
| The cavern was deep, nearly impossible to climb. It would take a seasoned demon several hours to scale the sheer vertical cliff that was the `` roadblock'' between a man and his freedom.
*Nearly. *
Hell does n't just torture you. It changes you, forms you to the be a drawback in the black caves of despair. It's not a fiery pit of anger and hate, the embodiment of Hell is *fear*. Dark, cold caves with red flashes of angry eyes. Eyes that scream pain, some men fooling themselves by wearing the mask of their mortal coil.
All men break. And when they break, you mould them into a monster.
The darkest caves, those with no sound, only touch and sound, the mind fractures into a thousand pieces. Their body breaks, bones snap and flesh tears off like paper. Then slowly, bit by bit, man will feel them pop back into place, imperfectly. Every time they break, it changes slightly different.
Men spend their entire unnatural life like this. Slowly evolving into the thing they despised.
But some men perform miracles. Some men get out.
*Some*.
There is a place reserved for men like that, and that is in the barracks of Lucifer. One day, they will arise again, and on that day, Rapture will come.
|
[ WP ] You 're the owner of a fruit stand in action movies . This time , you 're prepared ...
| A felon just escaped the max-security prison for Spies, Super villains and Wrongly Convicted Felons. I know how this goes, I β m not stupid. I own a fruit stand in a nice and crowded part of town. Ooh, that β s just my luck, I think as I finalise the sale of a dozen watermelons - I couldn β t make this up even if I wanted to, really. There must be a children β s party going on. Either that, or the guy really likes watermelons.
My stand is located just across some artisan β s stands, with their scarves and their jam, and their crystals and whatnot. I β m no fool, I β ve seen action movies. If there β s a place that convict β s going to run, it β s going to be here. But he β ll never see that one coming, I think to myself, chuckling.
See, I knew this would happen one day. One can not be in a place with good-looking churches, frail old ladies who huff at public disturbances and pigeons prone to flocking without attracting the hero-being-chased kind. And that, people, is why I reinforced my stand with cement. I could probably survive a nuclear war by hiding under it.
But my plan goes way further than just waiting to watch some punk crash into my crashing-proof stand. No. I want to set a precedent. Send a message to everyone who thinks they can destroy honest people β s property with no consequences just based on the fact that it β s a life-or-death situation. No, no, if you want to settle some life-threatening situations, just go to a deserted place and leave us gentle fruit dealers alone.
I don β t have long. I can hear them. The roaring of a stolen motorcycle from afar, and the sirens approaching. Only a few seconds left, and here he is, his perfect hair slightly mussed by the wind. Ugh. Typical. The protagonist. I quickly hide under my stand, just in time for the collision. The sound of the vehicle being crushed is like music to my ear. I get out of my hiding place to assess the damages. The poor lad β s been thrown a good 20 feet away, and he β s now decorating the fountain, his members crooked in a way arms and legs definitely shouldn β t go, and head resting on a pool of blood. His hair is completely ruined: should β ve worn a helmet, it messes your hair in a less deadly way.
The police all but stop before my stand, stepping out with their gun ready. They are trying to understand what happened, and before they can fully assess the situation, I burst out my Kalashnikov from under the counter. Because you see, it β s one thing to always have their property destroyed by fugitives and runaways, but the police really should know better, shouldn β t they? They β re here to protect the like of me, aren β t they? But here they are, shooting at my watermelons like it β s going to help anyone!
So I shoot them all, because they β re never gon na learn otherwise. No one messes with fruit stands no more. No one. Get the memo, Hollywood.
|
Write a story that begins with `` There 's no time to explain '' that never explains why there was no time to explain [ CW ]
| β There β s no time to explain! β Dante gasped, an unmistakable look of sheer panic cast was over his face. β What β re you on about? And why the hell are you drumming on my door? Do you realize exactly how late it is? β Asher asked, making quite sure to annunciate a strong tone of annoyance in his voice. β Listen, I need your help right now, okay? Are your parents asleep? β Dante asked quickly. β Yes! And so was I! β Asher snapped. β Good, I need you to get your dad β s keys. We need his car, and we need it now β insisted Dante. His tone was demanding, and his face followed suit. He was 18 years old, but had an appearance that could pass him for his mid-20 β s. Standing 6 β 3 with a strong, bulky build. His skin was dark brown, and his eyes were a piercing jade. His long black hair slicked neatly back, separating into several long braids which rested on his shoulders. His face and neck spiked with 5 O β clock shadow. The expression on his face changed into a look of helplessness, as he managed to stutter β I... I just didn β t know who else to turn to. You β re my best friend Asher. PLEASE get the keys. β
β You need to tell me what the hell is going on, Dante β Asher stormed. His patience was clearly strained, his pale blue eyes looking attentively up at Dante. β It β s Jordan, man β Dante stated desperately. β He β s not going to make it if we don β t move right now. β Dante β s voice trembled as he began battling tears. Asher β s chest constricted, it felt as though his lungs were debilitated. β Wh-what do you mean, what β s happened to him? β Asher asked reluctantly. β JUST GET THE KEYS ASHER, PLEASE! β Dante begged. Without thinking twice on it Asher turned and ran to the living room, turning on the light and searching frantically for the keys to his father β s Chrysler 300. After making a mess of the room, he found them and hurried out the front door, Dante tailing close behind him.
The night had fallen to immense darkness. The California summer air was heavy with humidity, despite it being long after sunset. The two young men hopped in the car, Asher assuming the role of the driver. β Step on it, we β ve got to go β Dante requested. Asher obeyed, the squealing tires seeming to be the only sound in the otherwise lifeless night around them. β Where is Jordan, Dante? And what the hell happened to him? β Asher questioned uneasily. Dante and Jordan had been Asher β s closest friends since pre-K, the three of them now almost concluding their senior year in high school. β DANTE! ANSWER ME! β Asher demanded, his hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had gone snowy-white. But Dante remained silent, his face buried in his hands, sobbing relentlessly. β Dante! β Asher scolded. Dante uncovered his face, and gave Asher a look he hadn β t ever seen in their 14 years of friendship. He looked as though in that moment he had partially died inside. His eyes gleaming blankly up at Asher, his mouth trembling as he muttered through tears; β I β m sorry Ash, I β m so sorry. β β What did you do, Dante? Where is he? β Asher started, his tone now shown with fear. β He β s at Creedance Park. I shot him Asher, I had to do it. He left me no other choice, man you β ve got to believe me! β Dante cried.
Asher β s blood pressure sky-rocketed, he felt wildly faint. He could hardly see as he went into tunnel vision. He was in utter shock. Without asking Dante anything he hit the accelerator hard, as though he were stomping on some morbid spider. The engine roared like a hungry beast. It only took about 4 minutes to reach Creedance Park, but to Asher it felt like a fortnight. They pulled through the gated entrance, underneath an elaborate stone archway with the words β Creedance Park β etched into the stones in an old gothic style font. The unlit park presented itself only where the headlights pierced the darkness. Asher almost immediately spotted Jordan slumped against the brick wall of the pavilion, he wasn β t moving a muscle. His head was down, his messy blonde hair draped down like leaves of a willow tree. His blue denim jacket unzipped, showing a white v neck t shirt- riddled with blood.
β JORDAN, JORDAN! β Asher screamed as he stumbled hurriedly out of the car. Dante remained seated in the passenger β s seat, his eyes locked on Jordan. Asher sprinted to Jordan as he slouched down to his knees, shaking Jordan uncontrollably. Jordan didn β t respond, he didn β t even move. Asher placed two fingers on Jordan β s neck feeling desperately for a pulse. β Dante call 911 he β s not breathing! β Asher pleaded loudly. But when he looked Dante was walking slowly towards him, gun drawn, aimed right at him.
Asher scrambled to his feet, his hands above his head. β Dante?! Dante what the hell are you doing? β Asher bawled. Dante was drawing close on him, still aiming the handgun unsteadily at Asher β s chest, hands shaking like a leaf. In the darkness behind Dante, Asher could suddenly make out the silhouettes of two men walking slowly towards them, just a few feet away. A grizzly voice that Asher didn β t recognize suddenly boasted, β What β s the hold up Dante? You said you wanted to roll with us? Just squeeze the trigger, homie. We'll make you a made man. β Dante was still in tears as he muttered, β I β m sorry Ash. β Asher almost screamed. But before he could make a sound, he had fallen limp onto the ground by Jordan β s side, the bullet in his chest burning like wildfire. He rolled onto his back and saw the flashing red and blue lights of an airplane grazing gracefully through the night sky. He could've sworn he was flying too. In only moments, everything had gone black. The squealing of tires seeming to be the only sound in the otherwise lifeless night around him.
|
[ CW ] Write a story in 15 minutes . Do n't edit anything , except the last word you are currently writing .
| Kid, you β d better stop following me soon. β I hurl the words behind me at the waif. He β s been tailing me since I left the base.
β Butβ¦ β the kid protested. I turned to shoot a glare at him.
β Look, I don β t care if you β ve no place to go. It β s not my problem. β I say. Why does it always end up like this?
When the kid doesn β t scram, I pull my gun out from my coat again and level it at his face.
β Are you sure you want to end up like the guys back there? β I ask him. He gulps, pisses his pants and scrambles away. Never mind that I had left the safety on. I sigh.
I didn β t have anything against the little bugger. Maybe if he was smart enough he β d survive until adulthood. I just didn β t want him, or anyone, clinging to me.
I holstered my gun again. Then I pull out my phone to make a call.
β Yeah, Riza? I got the money, where do you want me to make the drop? β I stare at the gathering clouds overhead. Once I got the the location, I walked to my driver.
β Kay, I got it, we can get moving. β I grumble. The reason is easy enough, he β s doubled over the steering wheel, laughing at me.
β I β m sorry, I β m sorry. It β s just, the kid. β He howls as I frown even further. β You β re like a magnet man! β
β Just shut up and drive. β I smack him on the head. He listens, he always does, but the tears are still streaming down his face.
β I swear, they think you β re some kind of knight in shining armour! β He doesn β t drop the subject. β That β s been what, the seventh this month? Hoping that you β ll somehow take them under your wing, teach them the tricks of the street? β
I decide to ignore him. Unlike some people, I can concentrate on the job. He had a point though, they all looked to me like I was their savior. Too bad for them I was only there for the money, and not the humanitarian deeds. I β d leave that to all the goody two shoes in the world.
But it was getting annoying.
β Turn left, β I say, almost unheard over the gales of laughter as we drive away from the warf.
|
[ WP ] Everyone is born with a unique ability , and , at first glance , your 's seems random and useless . Upon further examination , you realize that it is much more useful than you previously could have imagined .
| Dan was born in 1993 and grew up with the ability to absorb fire into his soul and store it as energy. He stopped the Great California Wildfire three years in a row and became a country music singer who has been on a sold out tour for a decade.
Sarah was born in 1994. Her capabilities were unnoticed at first, we all foolishly thought she was just a great speaker. At four she talked a jumper out from suicide. He is one of the happiest men I have met. She walks around the Middle East in a tank top and shorts, armed only with a megaphone. The former Islamic State Terrorism group is now a punk rock band dedicated to family friendly music. I did n't think that last part was possible either, especially there.
Steve was born in 1992 to incredibly rich parents. Not content with having everything literally served to him on a silver platter, he developed a mutation that allows him to grow metals out of plants naturally. Ever heard of Jack and the Beanstalk? Just like that, only there was no giant and the beanstalk itself was melted into 17.3 billion dollars worth of precious metals.
Blythe, pronounced like''blight th'', only she is really sweet when other people are around, was born in the cursed year of 1996. She told me her mutation chose her, but I swear she chose it. She can manipulate immune systems and viruses. She lives in South Africa, where they still think she is a witch, where she hunts ebola for sport. They call her the Blood Lady, or the Mosquito Queen, whatever she wants. She infects every mosquito that bites her, then lets them fly off to breed until they all melt into acid. There are only 1000 mosquitoes left in Africa, and she *has named every one of them. *
Then there is me. I can see the past. You heard me. Not the future, the past. And not even perfectly, they figured that out three days into my stellar police investigating career. No. I see the past the same way you remember it. I can only see one person's past at a time.
Let me illustrate just how useless this is. We are all pretty close in age, and oddly enough, we are all friends. Being the four most special of a world of specials will do that. Somehow I got in.
So we went to a bar to pick up chicks. Well, me, Steve, and Dan went to pick up chicks. Sarah identifies as'asexual', which means you can reproduce with yourself, not uninterested. Trust me, every Micheal Winston I have ever met is very clear about this. And I swear to god Blythe said she wanted to'pick up some of the local disease.' I am almost certain she meant literally, but I just did n't want to think about that.
So we are all at the bar, having a lovely time. James, the bar tender, could see 5 seconds into the future, alternate futures. You only had to look his way and think about ordering, and he made your drink without a word. So we got soused trying to push him. Turns out it is damned hard to out-think a future seer who is completely sober when fish are drier than you.
So we were all a little out of it, when a total babe walks in. I mean straight off the cover of Playboy magazine. She was wearing a sweater and jeans, with 1950s modest collar and stunned every man and most women in the place. Her sunkissed skin perfectly accented her violent black hair. Her lips pursed in a perfect smile of playfulness and perversion. Her blue eyes said she would be interested in you, but only after a twenty year quest of total celibacy dedicated to making her life better, and most guys would do it.
That was her thing, she always looked great, and not just great, but redefining great. She wore a trashbag once on a dare, and so did 140 million people just to try to get to her level.
Dan was the first to move on her. For all his plaid, his boots, and his hats, he is just a quiet nice guy who just happens to be be larger and fit. I guess every country singer needs a one who got away. He walks up to her with a cigarette lighter in his hand, beer on his breath.
`` Watch this,'' he slurred to the angel. He flicks on the lighter, holds his fist over the flame, and to his credit, winked at her.
`` I've seen this one, please, I just want a drink.''
`` You have n't seen this!'' Dan proclaims as he lifts her into the air with only his right hand.
Dan is left handed.
She looks down at him. `` I have seen it, now put me down.''
Dan lets her down the way you might set down a newborn kitten.
`` Thanks. I'm not interested.'' She does n't walk towards the bar, she flows, like water.
Dan does n't even look up. His shoulders slump. He looks at the ground. He uses the top of his head to open the door as he walks away in shame.
Steve is up next.
`` Barkeep? Could I get a-''
James hands Steve a coffee.
`` How about this instead?'' says Steve, softly guiding her hands in his to the mug. He smiles into her eyes that widen at his touch. She blinks a few times, then without taking her eyes off of Steve.
Steve is nothing to look at, he is an already balding white guy, a little overweight. Wears little tiny granny glasses. He looks like the guy that gardens for fun. I would too if I could make roses of emeralds.
The vision herself takes one sip from the mug. A young man about my age stands up and walks into the bathroom, shaking violently. With both hands in his pants.
This girl was electric.
The dream gasps, choking a little. She looks down into the mug, where an intricate band of diamond, gold, and tungsten. He has never been able to repeat this trick from crushed, dried, and blended plant matter.
`` Interested in a few of the finer things?'' Steve said with a chuckle.
`` Its... it's nice,'' she stammered. The way her lips moved when she tripped over her words made James trip over his own feet.
He was just standing.
`` I have jewelry at home, I just wanted a drink.''
Steve smiled, a smile that quickly faded as her face went blank and she turned away. He walked out of the bar.
When the woman prettier than the woman of your dreams rejects you, that's a wound that hurts for the rest of your life.
Sarah decided to join the fray. For such a smart girl, she has the looks of someone who makes you stupid. She has a lot of breast, all of which rebelled against her tank top. She had short, wavy blonde hair that almost made you forget what she could do. And innocent brown eyes that did.
It must have been the alcohol. Plus the woman. I mean, my God, what a woman.
Sarah said, without even making eye contact, `` I bet I can change your emotional state.''
The daydream whirled her head to a chorus of angels. `` Could you? I heard, but I never imagined...''
Sarah nodded, smiling. She closed her eyes and held her hands up, palms towards the woman. She hummed a little, and the woman stood up a little straighter.
I do n't know how, but the angel got hotter. Her head slanted at a dangerous tilt that promised the most incredible pleasure of your life. Her eyes widened, then closed again.
I swear to God she *winked. * My heart stopped.
Then she turned back towards the bar. Away from Sarah. Her shoulders slumped a little, and with them some of the magic of world died.
`` Please do n't do that again. Just leave me alone.''
This woman was invincible.
Blythe walked out of a dark corner somewhere. With a voice that dripped equal parts pleasure and pain `` Ohhh, look at you. All dressed up, and no where to go,'' she purred. She drank water. That was just how she sounded. Blythe leaned in towards me, put one hand on my thigh, and the other pulled my head towards her mouth.
`` This one is practically pure. A fine specimen. Get to know her,'' she licked into my ear.
|
[ WP ] You know who your soulmate is once they touch you . Yours just punched the shit out of you
| As the haze settled in his mind and he lay sprawled on the ground, he felt a sizable lump forming on the side of his head. There was something else. A spark it seemed. He had heard others tell of it before, but he was almost wondering if it would ever happen to him at all, and now it did. She was his destiny, his love, his soulmate, and that spark proved it. In the present, however, she was standing over him holding a can of mace.
β Back off and stay down. β
Thoughts raced through his head. Should he tell her what he felt? Did she feel it too or was it drowned out in the intensity of the situation. These strangers were meant to be and yet he knew not what to say. Being lost in thought and still somewhat dazed, he blinked three times and saw her run down the stairs in the street to the subway. He followed. He had to find her. They had to be together.
She was looking for any train to take her away, but he was looking for her. When he travelled down the stairs and stepped foot on the platform, he looked frantically around the station for her, and there she was on the next platform over. Her train was arriving, and he eyed the empty tracks that separated them knowing he could make the jump to the next platform.
She boarded her train.
He made the jump.
As the doors closed, she saw through the window that he had fallen on the tracks. She placed her hands to the glass and stared through with wide horrified eyes. A panicked cry of help came from across the platform, but within seconds the train came to silence the cry.
A tear fell from her eye, and that β s when she felt it. The spark.
|
[ WP ] Your office has an emergency stop button . You have no machinery . No one knows what it does .
| The button had always been there. Just... sitting there. On the wall. ***Emergency Stop***.
Jeff looked around the his office. Just a solitary computer, a solitary human, and nothing else. What was there to stop?
He reached his finger out tentatively, pausing only a centimeter away from the glimmering red button.
*Press it*.
Curiosity killed the cat, but Jeff was no cat right? Right. Just do it.
***Boink***
Boink? Odd sound for a button to make. Still, nothing seemed different, nothing stopped. Then the computer disappeared. Jeff did n't believe his eyes, but he sure believed his ass when it hit the floor. The chair was gone! With a ghostly flicker, his desk was next. *What? *
The floor was next, he fell a story, then another, soon he found himself sitting on an empty plot of land where his office once was. This did n't make sense. A building on his left flickered out of existence. Then another, and another and another. Within minutes the city was gone. The people were gone. He was alone.
The button could n't have done this right?
As he pondered his role in the annihilation of humanity, a light opened up from the sky. With a golden brilliance, he was brought up to the clouds. Jeff found himself standing in front of a luminous being. A voice boomed. **'' HUMAN! HAVE YOU TOUCHED THE EMERGENCY STOP BUTTON? `` **
Jeff trembled under the perceived power of this being. `` *Yes*'' he managed to squeak out.
`` **DAMN IT! NOW I HAVE TO REBOOT EVERYTHING**''.
Jeff saw a flash of light and he was back at his office.
The button had always been there. Just... sitting there. On the wall.
*Do n't do it*
Ehh, when was the last time curiosity actually killed a cat?
**Boink! **
|
[ CW ] use /u/trollabot to view your `` stats '' . Write a story containing your favorite words , and 3 of your fun facts .
| > favorite words: gluten, never, you're
>'' I've always loved airstreams....''
>'' I've never heard my blue one, nor has my brother heard his.''
>'' I've heard the black is awesome.''
> Yes I know I made this harder by which facts versus my words lol
There was a world where sounds were made of color. I went there once, it was an odd sensation. Of course, I had to take my brother.....
Anyway, long story short, do n't eat **gluten** if you do n't want to go to an alternate dimension. Yeah seriously.
It was summer, I think. I hope it was July 8th, otherwise I'll run into myself on the 9th and that will be awkward. Anyway, I have been Gluten Free for ever. And was going to stay that way, after I heard what happens to those who are n't. They disappear! Or did, but you probably do n't remember that version of events, do you? It used to be that if you ate Wheat, Rye, or Barley that you disappeared. No one knew where to, or what happened to you, but decided it was safer to stay gluten free. One day, my brother and I went to the store - the Wall*marr. No one went there, it's a secret section of Walmart. It does n't exist anymore, worry not. There, you can find gluten full foods, like poptarts, cereals we did n't have, beer, and so on. My brother and I, like the overweight stereotypes we are, locked on to the poptarts and candies and started to eat. About midway through my third box of poptarts, everything ended.
`` John, what is going on?'' I blinked, everything was loud. I know that does n't make sense, but that's what my eyes were telling me. It was like a bad cartoon, super bright and loud, but not because of colors.
`` I do n't know. I think we are about to disappear though like everyone else.''
It took us forever to adjust. I ca n't describe it, that would be like describing seeing sounds and hearing sights, it's just not possible. But finally we did, and started exploring. There were people curled up crying, some who had blinded themselves, and then there were all the people who handled it just fine. No one spoke to each other, it was like an introvert's paradise. What little communication there was, was done slowly and with tablets of stone, but they changed easily and you read them - much like a current dimensional tablet.
In such a nice peaceful world, there was mostly yellow and green. It was all I heard while there, at least. Someone I asked explained that people who heard red or white died, eventually. They just could n't do it. John said he could hear purples though, which I was told was safe. We were starting to be tired though, it takes a lot more energy to live like that. So John wrote out a question about where to sleep, and how money worked. It made no sense to me but the manager at the coffee shop laughed - a very funny sight, to see laughter - and explained how everyone slept.
So we went to the sleep field, and started imagining the room and houses we wanted. It would disappear when we were n't there, and follow us to the next sleep field, we were told. I imagined an Airstream Travel Trailer. **I've always loved Airstreams... ** That was a nice sleep, at least.
-- -- -
So the next few weeks, we spent figuring out life. I would bore you with details. But we missed home. We have 6 little siblings at home, and despite being adults have n't ever been away longer than this trip. By the time 6 months had passed, we were done. So we went to the old wise guy. He was all blue, every sound that came out of his mouth. But he explained, with his stone, that the blue we heard was n't him, it was a little jewel. He used it to travel from one world to the other. Anyone who wanted to go home needed one. The black ones were dangerous, though. They would erase a part of time and space.
How to tell the difference, we had no clue. We went searching, and searching, and searching. It was hard to find any at all. When we did, we grabbed a few, and went back to the wise man.
`` Do you hear it?''
`` **I've never heard my blue one, nor has my brother heard his. ** I'm not even sure which *is* blue.''
`` Are any black? **I've heard the black is awesome. **'' The man smiled, which sounded odder than his normal blue sound.
`` I do n't know!''
`` Did you put it against your ear?''
I did. So did John. And I suddenly woke up here, in this totally different dimension, all alone. I searched out my family, and compared the time line. Apparently I have a 20 year old sister, named Brit, but no brother named John. I find this odd. I also woke up in January, and it's cold, which I do n't remember it being cold before I left. So I'm waiting for me to leave, which I think is tomorrow. We'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. And where is John?
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[ WP ] You possess the Book of Love , written in it are the names of everyone and the person they are destined to fall in love with forever . The name next to yours is not what you expect .
| *The Book of Love*
That's an interesting title for a `` Current Issues'' book I had thought to myself as I rechecked the aisle I was in at the book store. I picked it up anyways and started to thumb through it.
`` It's just a bunch of tables and names, what is this a marriage census?'' I asked myself quietly.
`` That's what I thought at first too.''
I nearly jumped out of my pants in fright. I had n't noticed the girl when she had walked up which was strange in in of its self, I am normally a pretty observant person.
`` Oh, I did n't mean to scare you, sorry about that. Everybody always tells me I am too sneaky. My friends call me The Surprise.''
I turned and took a moment to study the newcomer. She was a bit on the short side with shoulder length red hair leaving her looking tragically normal, but she had such a big innocent smile on her face and her eyes glittered with excitement so much so that I could help but give her my attention.
I realized that I had been silent for a little bit too long and stammered a bit. `` Th-that's fine, no harm... What do you mean by'that's what I thought at first' though?''
The girl giggled a bit at my response, `` Well, this book has a list of every single person that will every fall in love and who they will fall in love with.''
This time I was the one who laughed, `` You ca n't be serious, some one would have bought it by now if that were true.''
`` You ca n't buy it. It is not in the bookstore's system and if you try to steel it, they always catch you.''
I took another look inside the book to match up what the strange girl had told me. On the left column there were the names of people and on the right there were all kind of different things. Some were dates and times, others were places, and a few just had random notes.
`` Well who ever wrote this certainly did n't want to make things easy did they?''
The girl giggled again, `` Well, love is n't easy after all.''
`` I assume you already looked yourself up did n't you?''
`` Of course I did, would n't anybody?''
`` What did it say?'' I asked with a conspiratorial grin.
She just rolled her eyes though. `` Maybe you should worry about your own love life first. Plus, I have a date right now.'' She turned and gave a wave as she slowly sauntered off, almost like she was teasing me.
I just shrugged it off and started going through the index till I found my name. `` Well that's a promising sign'' I said aloud, being sure to whisper this time. I traced my finger across to the other column and was immediately disappointing.
**Surprise**
`` That's not fair'', I said angrily, `` everybody else gets at least something. Why does mine have to be up in the air like that?''
I stood there simmering for a bit before it dawned on me, `` Did n't her friends called her Surprise?'' I dropped the book and ran out of the aisle desperately hoping to see her. She was gone already however, so I ran out the front of the door and looked wildly back and forth hoping I would catch a glimpse of her.
`` Well, she said she already had a date anyway'', I mumbled to myself.
That's when I heard it, the sound that would change my life. It was a soft giggle off to my left and there she was, sitting at one of the tables for the bookstores outdoor cafe. She waved me over and as I approached I noticed that there were two cups of coffee and still an empty chair.
`` My name is Sabrina by the way.''
~~~~~
*Book of Love* page 4,784
Sabrina Surpize... Hobby Books, 7/26/10 3:56pm
|
[ WP ] `` I 'm a good man . '' `` If so , then why are you here ? ''
| Blood floods my right eye, my left darting about the grey, stony room. The light beams hot against my face. Every one of my senses is alight, burning away at me.
He strikes my face again and I spit out a tooth. It's collision on the ground seems almost deafeningly loud.
'Why are you here?' The man in the red uniform asks me.
My one unharmed eye meeting his two, I mutter'I- I do n't know.'
'Wrong answer.' His stern voice echoing in my throbbing skull. Another blow to my temple and the chair topples, dragging me to the ground with a crash.
They right me again and I speak, trying my hardest to sound intimidating'I did n't do anything wrong.'
'Of course you did.'
'No. I'm a good man.'
He does n't seem to like that. I can tell by a flame-like flicker in his eyes.
'Not true.' He bellows'Why are you here, then!?'
'I do n't know! A mix up in the sorting office?'
Another strike for being sarcastic, ripping open the skin beneath my left eye.
'We know you're a sinner! Now confess to your sin!'
I spit my blood at the demonic brute, who opens his mouth to receive it and swallows. An intimidation move, no doubt.
I finally loosen the bonds on my hands and rise. Before he knows what's going on, I've struck him too. His skin as hard as the ground, I break a knuckle. And just as fast as me, he has a long red trident at my throat, getting warmer and warmer, eventually scorching my skin.
Right at that moment, another burst through the door and pushed the weapon away from me.
'Mix up, sir.' He says to my interrogator.'This one's going up top. Bad paperwork, I'm afraid.'
I spit blood on the ground and give him a sarcastic smile, before being lead out of the building to meet St. Peter at his Pearly Gates.
I'm a good man. Always have been.
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[ WP ] A father is driving his daughter to practice . Both their phones receive an Amber Alert . The daughter checks her phone and says `` Dad , mom burned us ''
| The man put down his mug of coffee. His daughter cut out tiny pieces from the bacon on her plate and ate it. No words were exchanged. They did n't need to. The radio purred soothingly, disjointed phrases occasionally heard over the static, ``... baseball match'', `` other...''. He was getting tired of bacon and eggs, but there was n't time to cook so he just pushed the plate aside and read the newspaper.
It was all gibberish.
His little girl finished his breakfast. They did n't deem it necessary to clean up. The two got in the car and off they went. The man to work and the girl to practice. That's how it usually goes. The girl looked bored but offered a wan smile through the mirror. The man smiled back. `` We've got ten minutes. What did you want to be when you grow up?''
`` I've always wanted to be a-'' she was interrupted by the man's phone. AMBER alert.
`` That's faster than usual.'' he said, letting go of the steering wheel and staring at the text. It's some boy. Who knows what happened to him. The man never got around to finding out. The car kept going on. And on.
`` Uh, dad?'' the little girl sniffed dubiously, prompting the man to look up from his phone. The car is frozen and unmoving. So is the big truck to the side of them. They will not collide.
`` Something's wrong...'' the man looked confused as he dropped his phone and looked at the frozen, panicked face of the truck's driver, but then he smelled it too. That sooty smell.
His daughter's hair begin to catch on fire. Cracks run along the rear window like spiderwebs as the truck gradually pressed itself onto the car. Their clothes dissolved into nothing and were replaced by a black suit and a white dress.
His daughter smiled. A bittersweet drop of tear streamed down from her cheek as her skin begin to slough off from the heat. `` Dad, mom burned us.''
`` See you later, Bianca.'' the father said. He would sigh in relief, but his lungs stopped working.
They're free at last.
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[ WP ] You wake up to find your wife is n't in bed with you , there 's just a note where she normally sleeps .
| I awoke in the darkness staring at the alarm clock on the nightstand. The big red numbers showed 3:48. Dread washed over me as the realization that in the next few hours I'd be seated in a cubicle for half the day, surrounded by coworkers I could n't stand, came to my mind. It was times like this where I wish I would never wake up. Half asleep, I reluctantly got up and made my way over to the bathroom to pee. After flushing the toilet I glanced at myself in the mirror. A worn, sorrowful face stared back at me. Wrinkles creased the sides of my mouth and ran in lines across my forehead. Bags hung under my eyes. I glanced back, staring into my pupils, lost for a moment.
There was a thick silence in the house. The floor creaked as I made my way across the cold hardwood in the hallway. I stood at the bedroom entrance staring at the bed. I noticed that the side of the bed by where she stayed was empty. She had left again, I thought. I reached the footboard and pulled the bedsheets up. A piece of paper gently fell to the floor on her side of the bed.
I picked it up, sat on the edge on her side of the bed and began to read it:
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
Michael, I can not do this any longer. Must move on. I am so sorry about what happened but we can not change the past. Please do not come back for me -your loving wife Marcy.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
A tear slowly trickled down my face.
I rubbed my hands together as cold air blew out of the vents in the car. The engine hummed as the car slowly heated up. I sat in the driveway staring ahead through the windshield. visions of her came to my mind. Got ta get her back again. Got ta get her back.
The roads were empty and dark. I drove in silence. No radio. Ray Charles' I cant stop loving you played in my mind as I though about the two of us dancing together in a ballroom. Her hair was up in a bun and her dress, black and elegant. She glowed as she smiled while I spun her around in my arms. We seemed to move in slow motion for an eternity as the music played in my mind.
About five minutes later I pulled into a gravel driveway then shut off the lights as I turned off the engine. I let out a sigh as I got out of the car and stared ahead. All I could think about was getting her back as I made my way over to the trunk. I opened it up, pulled a shovel out then began walking off into the graveyard...
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[ WP ] A Father Can Only Save One Person In His Family , He Chooses Himself
| Andrew had never seen his mother cry.
There were moments when it appeared as if she would, while taking in the simple joys of his schoolwork or his smile, but never before had he witnessed such a complete dissolution of hope. The gentle sagging of her face; the way the agony pulled her features gently outward; the expression of pain so exotic that his mother was not his mother. It was all too much for Andrew to take in, so he mustered his strength and looked away.
Beside him, his younger sister was putting on a more flamboyant display. Her wails carried up, up to the starry midnight sky, where they hung suspended before falling into the frigid ocean black beyond. She was paralyzed with the irrational fear that possessed her, and though Andrew had in the past wrapped his sister in his arms, tonight, he made no such effort. Glancing between his mother and his sister, the sad truth began to sink in.
But this was n't right, was it? They had traveled all this way, from the United States to the docks of Europe, in order to be together as a family. Why could n't people keep smiling? Everything was so much easier when people smiled.
Andrew waddled up to the edge of the railing, poking his squat head through the opening underneath to drink in the chaos one more time. People were crying each other's names, or screaming for help, or jumping
*my goodness people are jumping! *
into the black abyss. Was it truly better down there, in a water so still and empty that only icebergs could claim it as home? Why would people not stay here, in the comfort of ballrooms and bunk beds? For a fleeting moment, this question percolated in Andrew's mind. It was enough. He placed both hands on the railing, dragging his tiny feet up to the iron guardrail. Left, then right, he checked, making sure that he was doing this properly. Nobody else was hesitating as he was, unless they were speaking to God. Andrew had never liked church, but now he wished he had spent some more time talking to God.
`` Andrew! Get down from there!''
Two familiar arms scooped him up, pulling him back to safety. He said nothing, instead wrapping his arms around his mother's neck pressing his face into her collar. He liked it better here, than on the edge of the ship. It was safer here.
As his mother turned to seize his sister's hand, Andrew opened his eyes to catch one last glimpse of his father. From his perch, he saw the last of the lifeboats disappearing to the sea. One contained a mass of women in coats, struggling to fix life jackets around their awkward formalwear. Another was hanging by its side, impotent, as the remaining cables struggled to keep it suspended. And the last one: there he was! The large beard was unmistakable, even at this hour and surrounded by so many desperate people.
Their eyes met. Had his father been watching them the entire time? Frantically Andrew's eyes darted across every feature of his face, desperate for a clue that his father was not really leaving on that tiny boat. That man was his father, after all. Surely he was coming back? Andrew searched and searched, for as long as the moment would allow, until with a start his mother began striding away from the lifeboats and the jumping. As quickly as his father had come into view, he disappeared.
`` Mother, where is Daddy going?'' asked Andrew. His own answer was already forming, but he wanted his mother to tell him that he was wrong, and that his father would save them. That is what fathers were supposed to do.
All he heard was sister's ragged sobbing, so he asked again, louder.
This time, an answer crackled out from beneath his mother's chest. `` I'm so sorry, honey. I guess Daddy does n't love us after all.''
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[ WP ] Sugar has been found to cause all sorts of issues in the human body . As a result governments around the world have banned it . Now there is a thriving black market in anything sweet .
| I clutched the balled up tinfoil in my hand, which trembled in anticipation, as my forehead began to bead with sweat. It β s getting too risky to come down here these days, but a man needs his fix.
Harrisburg is almost a 2-hour drive from my apartment in Philly β a place where β d you think you β d be able to score anything under the sun. However, to get what I really wanted, at the price I could afford, I had to head to Harrisburg -- where just a few miles north lay a gutted goldmine of days past: Hershey Park. It β s rumored that there are several underground landfills of product around the Hershey area, which is why I and many other users make the trip here to Harrisburg. The city is crawling with undercover DEA agents lurking incognito, setting up stings and fake fix houses. Thus, the risk involved making in the trek here.
I was parked on the corner of 3rd and Maclay, just across from a Rite Aid Pharmacy. The marquee below their sign read: β Save $ 14 on your next jar of Sucradex when you use your member card. β *Ugh*, I groaned in my head, *Sucradex*. A white, powdery substance that is nothing more than a flavorless, artificial replacement to sugar. It β s been 2 years since the ban, and the most popular substitute we have is the metallic, chemical β sweetness β of wretched Sucradex.
I opened my hand and looked down at my prize. *Take it slow; this has to last me until next week*. I unraveled the foil and watched as the tightly packed candies fell about. *What do we have this time? * A few white and purple pill-shaped candies mixed with tinier, thick jellies, and 2 circular dusty-looking wafers: Good & Plenty β s, Jujubes, and Neccos. Since I couldn β t afford the scarce, top tier candies β Reese β s Cups, M & Ms, Kit-Kats, and the holy grail of all illicit sugar products: The Hershey Bar β I limited with what Rico ( my low level sugar pusher ) could scrounge up from the various criminal organizations that ran the Harrisburg sugar market. I often dreamt of once again biting into Reese β s, which ran up to $ 500 for a single cup, and also required a dealer who was connected to some sort of powerful crime faction.
I got tired of holding out and popped one Good & Plenty and 2 Jujubes as I started my car. Though they were clearly stale, my taste buds were hit hard with the euphoric sensation of pure glucose. I could almost feel my brain receptors firing off dopamine hits as I swirled the candies around my gums, letting the sugar make its rounds in my mouth. I flicked on the radio, and landed on a political talk station.
β All I β m saying, β the pundit exclaimed through the radio, pausing for β dramatic'' radio effect, β is that the Supreme Court is going to overturn any motion towards medical sugar use. And yes, I know you liberals are going to call in and whine about how β oh my father is suffering, he needs sugar treatment for his compulsion disorder β yadda, yadda, yaddaβ¦ β I flicked the station to light jazz and settled in for the drive ahead.
As I was turning on route 22 North towards highway 81 to Philadelphia, the car behind me lit up with a flash of blue and red. *Shit. * As discreet as possible, I balled the contraband in my lap back into a foil ball, and tossed it under my drivers seat. I immediately swallowed the half dissolved candies in my mouth as I pulled off to the side of the road.
Two shadowy figures stepped out of the patrol car, and made their way towards my vehicle. My heart was thumping, and my mouth still had a lingering taste of sugary goodness. Too bad I had to already waste some of my score. Both officers approached both windows of my car, shining their overpowered lights into my vehicle β s interior. I rolled down the window, and tried to play it cool -- nice and polite.
β Good evening office β β
β Step out of the vehicle, β the officer at my driver β s window interrupted. I could tell by what little I could see of his face, that it would be wise to comply. I stepped out of the car with my hands up, and as the cop frisked me with one hand, and continued to shine his flashlight into my car with his other. Through the small gap between my driver β s seat and my door, I watched as the beam from the flashlight bounced off the tinfoil ball I had tried to stash. The officer immediately spotted it and reached in.
β You know, I never gave you consent to this search, β I said. The officer took one look at me, and without any hesitation swung his fist to the side of my head. The impact sent me down hard onto the street. He then brandished his nightstick and proceeded lash me several time on my chest and legs. I screamed, but it only led to a kick to mouth. I coughed and wheezed as the pain made its way throughout my body.
β What the fuck is this shit? β said the officer. I glanced up and noticed he had unraveled the ball of foil containing my precious score. The other cop, most likely his partner, had made his way over.
β Ah damn, just some cheap low-grade stuff. I β d say about only $ 50 worth. β
β Did you find anything else on your side? β The officer who beat me replied, popping a Necco wafer in his mouth. His face turned to disgust, and looked as if he was about to spit out on me.
β Nah, car β s clean.''
β Fuck it. Hey buddy, β he beckoned down towards me. β We β re going to go ahead an confiscate this and let you off with a warning. So, how about you get back in your car and head back to wherever the fuck you came from, ok? β I was still lying on my side, clutching my chest, unable to respond.
β Yeah, β piped up the partner, β And if we catch you here again with this stuff, well, we won β t be so lenient like we were tonight. β
β Have a good night sir. Drive safe, β the officer mocked. The two got back into their squad car and peeled off back towards Harrisburg. I stayed on the ground for a few more minutes, wiping the blood from my face and mouth β spitting out a few of my teeth.
My luck had run out. I needed a new way to get my fix.
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[ WP ] Write an excerpt from Donald Trump 's 2017 State of the Union Address .
| The Donald steps up to the mic, his perfectly bronzed face glistening in the high wattage sodium lights.
`` Thank you. Thank you'' he begins. The crowd is going wild. Some of them are unbuttoning their pants. `` Thank you. Thank you'' he reiterates. The crowd is still applauding.
Then suddenly a terrible noise. A loud bang. The sound of a high caliber rifle. Bang! The Donald's head explodes like a ripe melon.
The speaker and vice are showered in blood and skull fragments. The crowd lulls into a brief and terrible silence, then the hysteria begins.
The camera men swivel their cameras wildly around the room searching for the source of the gunfire. They focus in on a struggle near the back of the hall. A man in all black wearing an arab headwrap is being muscled to the ground by politicians in suits whose ties without fail are either red or blue.
Suddenly the commotion stops. The politicians release the man. The ostensible assassin stands up and removes his headwrap. No... It ca n't be... The crowd lulls into another brief astonished silence. Then they erupt in applause and shouts of triumph. The cameras zoom in on the man. It's... Donald. But... The new Donald struts proudly to the podium. Laughing, he shakes the speaker's hand, wipes a bit of brain matter from the vice president's chin and flicks it into the ground. The Donald reaches down and lifts his headless stunt double's lifeless body. He points to where the head should be and gives a knowing smirk then drops the body and steps up the podium.
The hall is silent, breathless. Donald speaks: `` Now that, my friends, is how you make America fucking great again.''
Thunderous applause erupts. Furious jerking ensues. America is instantaneously rendered great again.
The end.
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[ WP ] A cure for sleep has been found , by taking a cheap pill people no longer need to sleep . You opted to continue sleeping and now 1 year after the release of this pill you notice that people are starting to act oddly .
| Things had been strange for a while, ever since that new sleep cure came out β Awake! That name was burned into his mind now. If he closed his eyes, he could see the calming lilac colour of the bottle and the classy yet inviting font.
How could he not? It seemed like everyone had been taking it lately, and could you really blame them? A drug that completely eliminated the need for sleep, it was like a whole new world had opened up before you.
But he had an unease in his stomach ever since he had seen the advert for the first time. Something deep in him rose up, in a simple and resounding β No thanks! β. Humans were meant to sleepβ¦ weren β t they?
That β s what he told himself as his co-workers, friends, family β hell, even the postman, raved about how they just got so much done now.
β David, you β ve got to try it! β They would say. β I never knew I could get so much work done! β
But he had always sensed something deep in their eye, like they knew it was wrong. It didn β t take long after the pill came out for the weirdness to start.
Take now, for example. He was at home on a weekday morning, when he should be at work. Yet no one was calling, angrily demanding how he could be off sick without so much as a phone call? He had a stack of projects for some pretty high end clients, yet his boss wasn β t shouting about *we must keep them happy, David*.
That in itself, while weird, was hardly world ending. But the reason he was at home⦠that was another thing. David was a workaholic, through and through, and he had the wreckage of his marriage to prove it.
So even when people started acting strangely, he powered through like everything was just fine. The weird wide eyed stares, the conversations with people who weren β t there, they were all swept under the very roomy rug in David β s mind.
But yesterdayβ¦.
David had gotten into work at 8.30AM, as usual, just before the crowds would usually arrive on a normal workday. He walked into the office, expecting to see very few people except the receptionist, Paul.
β Hey Paul β, he said automatically, without looking up from his phone, β is there any β β he stopped.
There was no one there. Paul β s desk, usually as neat as a pin, was a shambles.
The phone itself was knocked askew, the handle hanging over the visitor side of the desk, blaring its open signal tone into the air. The fancy monitor Paul used was smashed and knocked over, and papers were flung everywhere.
β Paul? β David called, almost expecting his voice to echo. No answer.
His heart beginning to race, David walked slowly forward, expensive work shoes crunching over the sprawled paperwork.
A deep, deep silence hung over the office as David walked down the main hallway, filling his stomach with a heavy dread. It was far too quiet, even for this early in the morning.
He should have heard phones ringing, the mild sound of chatter, the clacking of keyboards β but there was nothing.
He looked into the main offices as he walked past, but they were all in various stages of disarray. In his bosses β office, there was something on the floor that looked an awful lot like blood.
Feeling his heart pretty much thundering now, David hastily looked away and quickened his pace.
David entered the main area of the office, a modern open plan arrangement filled with cubicles. When he saw what was waiting for him there, he stopped dead in his tracks.
What his brain focused on first, was not the corpses strewn about the room, but the large crowd of people standing motionless in the dead centre of the room. They stood there, their expensive business suits torn and splattered with blood, in complete silence.
In his mind, he was already fleeing down the hallway, but in reality he was stuck fast. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, which had suddenly gone dry, and his feet were seemingly glued to the floor.
As he stood there, dumbfounded, one of them stepped forward. It was Sharon, who he had been considering taking out for dinner.
She reached out a curled fist, turned it, and opened it to reveal a bottle of Awake!
β Take them, β she said, her voice flat and droning, β and join us. You don β t want to be left out of the office party, do you? β
Sharon β s mouth stretched into a grimace, and some part of David realised she was trying to smile. She looked like a corpse that didn β t realise she was dead.
That broke David β s paralysis, and he turned and fled as fast as he could. Behind him, he could hear the shrieks of his former colleagues as they chased him down the halls of his former sanctuary, their feet thundering like a herd of animals.
Somehow, he had made it to his car, and had barely shut the door behind him when they came pouring out of the entrance. Blind with panic, he sped out of the car park, but he could see them relentlessly chasing him in his rear-view mirror as he fled.
-- -
David smiled bitterly at the memory, thinking how he had been incredibly lucky to get out. But in a way, he knew that it would n't last. Outside, he could hear the distant screams of regular humans and the much more blood curdling shrieks of those tainted.
Listening to the distant sounds, David picked up his pistol from the coffee table and looked at it.
β You won β t betray me, will you? β
*edited for better ending
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[ WP ] You are part of an ancient order that ensures humanity 's progression . After your training , you are sent to a remote cottage where you are told to await a letter . Forty-seven years later , that letter arrives with your new task .
| It's been a long time since I've left the Order, too long. I have a family now, A wife and two great kids. What did they expect? They left me in a cottage with people, no amount of training could prepare me for the outside world. After 5 years I had stopped checking daily, then after 10, just once a month. They made me leave the Village at the age of 18, I'm 65 years old and the letter just showed up.
I ca n't describe the emotion that I had felt whenever the letter showed up. It as if Death himself was standing at the door. An old, dreaded friend come back to visit. If you were to compare it to another letter you would see right away the age difference. The paper that the envelope was made out of was a pale yellow, and cracked around the edges. As I turned it over I saw the seal on the letter. A red wax amphitheatre the symbol for humanity, a play with no end in sight being directed by the few of us.
As I opened the letter it felt like time slowed down and the temperature dropped. The paper within was very old, even older than the envelope. It was stiff and smudged, at one point in time it looked like it may have been burned as one of the corners was singed. The ink was not really ink, I believe that it was coal. I whispered the words aloud. They felt odd in my mouth, almost like I was speaking some foreign language older than all of us. As I read it I began to understand it more and more. I must have stood there for 30 minutes just reading it until I understood my task.
My new task seemed impossible. It said that I would need to travel the world. Looking for one person. In a world of 7 billion I need to find the one that could save humanity from an upcoming enemy, the darkness. `` Χ§ΧΧΧ© ΧΧΧ'' The name that was used in the letter translates directly to *holy one*. The letter said that I would know who the person was when I saw them, as if I had some sort of mystical ability. I do n't know how I will be able to travel the world, I'm 65 with a hip replaced. I guess the easiest thing to do would be just leave with no more contact with my family. They would assume that I'm dead that would be best. I hope the elders know what they're doing, because the task ahead looks pretty grim.
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[ WP ] You find a genie , but the wish it grants goes horribly wrong
| Dead eyes peered from beneath chitinous armour at John through a cage of steel. The body the dead eyes were sunken into was likewise lifelessly slumped against a cold wall. The only way John could tell the insectoid creature was alive was the way the slender head followed him as he passed by the veiwing glass.
John stopped his slow walk at the end of the cage. He turned to face the dirt brown, segmented creature and stared. He noted the various scars and healed holes that dotted its carapace. Two arms rested against two legs, one arm lay splayed to the side, the other ended in a stump near its body. Half melted armor covered most of one leg and part of another. Lastly, John noted the tattoo half carved, half colored into its forehead.
John stared at the creature and its blood red tattoo. The tattoo signified the creatures purpose in its life. He did n't need to read the cage description next to him to know what he was looking at. He had seen them in person, once, many years ago. More years than he cared to admit. And he killed them.
Peace had been achieved. Humanity as a whole worked together after decades of conflict that left the Earth ravaged and broken. Its continents cracked and its seas poisened, Mankind left the Earth and colonized the moon. Great cities grew on the moon's pitted surface. Wealth grew from the mines and industry generated on the Earth's closest sibling. The wealth was used to rebuild Earth.
But the Moon was only so big.
Soon afterward, Humans were sent to Mars. Mars was rich in minerals and ores beneath its red surface. Great foundries and shipyards were built on both the surface and in orbit. Ships and materials were sent to both the Moon and Earth.
Venus did not ecape the grasp of humans either. Its atmosphere was tamed and its land cultivated. Vast greenhouse complexes were erected to support the growing population of Sol.
Not even the moons of the great gas giants were left bare. Humanity extended from its birthplace to the coldest and most remote corners of the solar system. There was nowhere left to go. Sol was full.
And so Humanity left Sol and travelled to Alpha Centauri. Through the vast and cold depths of space, Humanity sent great fleets of ships. Ships filled to the brim with bodies. Ships that would colonize new planets and erect the buildings of their fathers. And they sent ships to safeguard their new colonies. Ships with fearsome weapons and powerful warriors. Though Humanity was done fighting with each other, they had not forgotten the craft of war.
And that was where Humanity found the Skirax. An insectoid, hive minded race similiar to Earth's ants but the size of Humans. Humans saw the similarities between themselves and decided to become friends, and there was peace between the Humans and Skirax.
Alpha Centauri and Sol soon came to the attention of the wider galaxy. A galaxy full of intelligent and spacefaring beings. Some similiar to what Humanity knew, some not. Some knew things Humanity knew, some did not. Some were warlike, some where not. Some had space on their planets, some did not.
Discord grew between the Skirax and Mankind. Mankind realized there was nowhere else to go. Something ancient stirred within the humans. Something long hidden for they did not practice it on each other. Discord grew to anger and there was fighting between the fringes of Humanity and Skirax. Anger among Skirax grew to hate and there was war. Anger among Humans grew to resolve and there was slaughter.
Slaughter ruled in Alpha Centauri until the humans took it from its original owners. War, not practiced for centuries among humans, had come and claimed the Skirax. They were exterminated and subjugated. Those not killed, fled. Those not fled, were put in confinement.
There was never enough. Humanity took the Barnardia next. Their cities were burned from their planets, their monuments torn down, their histories destroyed. They were exterminated for their unwillingness to submit. The skeletons of warriors and ships were shot into black holes
The Luhma were next. Nuclear fire rained down on farm and live worlds. Their warriors and fleets fought back. A moon was smashed into their homeworld and their homeworld into their sun as examples of those who resisted. The Luhma submitted. The few remaining were sent away from their worlds into Human controlled territory.
The Luyten held sway over half the galaxy. The Luyten had withstood dozens of conquerors. They had stood against the death of their homeworld and the savage advance of their own anamalistic nature. The Luyten saw Mankind, and turned to destroy the upstart Humans. The Luyten were chased to their homeworlds and drowned in blood. Great fleets were reduced to slag, dyson spheres cast into their suns. Luyten stars were destroyed, obliterating entire systems. Humanity took great pains to preserve a few and affix them within cages.
Mankind were the masters of the galaxy now. Mankind looked outward, and Mankind hungered.
John looked over his shoulder at the dozens, maybe even hundreds of cells behind him, for that was what they were. Each held a subdued and beaten foe of Humanity. In his mind, this was a travesty of what it used to be called. Zoos should n't hold sapient creatures. These beings had once been masters of their own destiny and John had brought them though.
'' I wish Humanity could work together.'' John whispered. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared at the unmoving, insectoid Skirax form in front of him.
He had brought them low through a single sentence. One he thought could only benefit his people. He had united mankind, but it had cost them their soul.
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[ IP ] A star destroyer appears over a random US city .
| Life is usually peaceful in kalamazoo. Our little Michigan city is just referenced as a silly word, and most people who reference it do n't even know it exsists. But on November 23rd, 2015, our little town was subjected to something... Not of this place. The first thing me and my husband did was to go out on the street with our son anthony. It was n't thought out, more of just a instinct. The shape in the sky we were staring at was a kite shape, but with more features. We could see tiny lights, and things that resembled a misquitto. Once a fleet of fighter jets came, we knew they were hostile. The misquitto-like things shot beams of light, lasers seemed to surreal at the time. Regardless, the jets fell like ducks during hunting season. A day later, our little town was a war zone. Our tanks were matched by two legged boxes, and our infantry were slaughtered by these white clad soldiers, even if their aim was a little gung-ho. Three days in, and nothing was left. We were living in a homeless shelter. Comforts were spread thin, for me it was the lack of blah jets and tampons. My little son was shaken, his face streaked with black from the ashes. By midday, the president wanted to come to terms with the leader of this invasion. What we got was a black soldier, with a flowing black cape. Our president pleaded and begged with the leader, but their leader said in a almost mechanical voice `` Pathetic'' and what soon followed was our glorious leader, our king that was n't a king, a role model was smushed with a sickening crunch. All the countries of the world decided best to leave America alone to these aliens, thinking they were a superior race. That's where it could have ended, me and my family homeless and shocked. But it didnt, as our strife stemmed from the idea that we were beaten by someone superior to us. A dead'stormtrooper' shows up in the streets, slipping through the empires cold hands.Our senses numbed even further to find that this extraterrestrial cause was no more than the human race doing what it does best.
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[ WP ] You die and have a conversation with a soul who chooses to stay in limbo rather than rest . Why ?
| We sit on our dingy, torn up oatmeal coloured couch. The one we picked up all those years ago when we had decided to first plunge into the deep end and move in together 10 years ago. But that was 10 years ago and back then we could still add teen to the end of our age, now not so much.
Carol sits on the left cushion, her self proclaimed side of the couch wearing her favourite oversized blue t-shirt. The faded blue t-shirt falls just above her buckled knees and the sleeves fall down to her frail elbows. Carol sits there next to me with her knees tucked into her t-shirt staring blankly at the netflix home screen. Her outgrown bangs keep covering her hollowed face and I reach out to move them awa but I know I ca n't break her fixated stare anyways. She seems to be doing that a lot lately, just staring and not really moving or seeming present at all. If I could n't see her right in front of me, I would n't believe that she was in the room at all.
And then a sudden movement, her first in approximately 57 minutes, a quick smile passes to my face, `` here she goes'' I think to myself, `` she's going to get up and shower for the first time in 11 days, she's going to change out of my old t-shirt and eat some real food.'' My optimism fades as quickly as it had appeared as I watch my widowed wife pour herself the remainder of the bottle of chardonnay and make her way back to the couch through a maze of toppled lamps and broken plates.
For the last 11 days I have watched the love of my life quickly shrivel up into a drunken pessimist. The once lively and passionate woman that I knew no longer possessed the ability to smile or laugh and I am the one to blame. I am the one to blame for my wife's loss of happiness and desires. Had I not gotten behind the wheel. Had I slept longer the night before. Had I not let my eyes close for that millisecond that it took for that driver to run a red light and come barraging into the left side of my car leaving me immediately paralyzed, eventually bleeding out and leaving me dead on impact. Had I just listened to my wife and stayed in a hotel. Had I... Then maybe I would be able to touch my beautiful wife, caress her face and console her. Then maybe this would be any other friday with us watching Netflix and Carol's stare would be due to her indecision rather that her lack of will. With a tear streaming down my face I reach out for my wife's hand knowing that she wo n't be able to feel anything. I sit there for a while with my hand hovering over hers tears running down my face. I ca n't leave her. I will only rest when my sweet Carol resigns from torturing herself in this manner and moves forward. How can I rest when my love sits on our raggedy couch waiting for me to come home so we can watch Netflix. I know we said until death do us part but I refuse to let death separate us until I know that she is safe and happy. I am sorry Carol but I can not rest.
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[ WP ] In a former nuclear weapons testing ground in the Pacific , what 's REALLY buried under the `` radioactive garbage can '' , Cactus Dome ?
| They say silence is golden.
Many in the top layers of the U.S. government worship silence. No, it's not a dark cult of men in robes standing around an altar. They worship the secrets left unspoken. Their gospel is `` need to know''. They pray every night for the deeds they do not speak of to fade away.
I am the worst of those deeds. I am the silent void that must be filled with the ticking of shattered atoms decaying, with the weeping of deformed children.
There has always been a silent disciple following in the footsteps of science. Every discovery in astronomy, biology, physics or chemistry has advanced this quiet discipline a little further. They watch as scientists build particle accelerators, and they draw their own circles on the land.
During the last Great War, when money poured like a river onto the white sands of Los Alamos, a quiet tributary split off from that river. Not many asked where it was going, and the few that did soon learned the value of silence. As the scientists struggled to split the fundamental nature of reality, the disciples labored nearby on their own, very similar project. After the scientists' labor bore it's burning fruit and turned the sands of Trinity to glass, the disciples labored on. After Hiroshima was incinerated, the faces of the disciples bore quiet smiles, for their strange instruments had registered subtle changes that morning.
After the Great War was over, the scientists came to Enewetak Atoll to pursue greater mysteries and more terrible weapons. The disciples followed them, though they had only one project, the same project they had labored on through all the long nights of the war. They tasted failure many times there. Not every blinding explosion on that island was caused by the fusion fires of a man-made star. The disciples tortured reality, peeling back it's skin and boring holes in it's flesh, and reality fought back. When success finally came, when I finally came, it was not a roar but silence that followed.
Be careful what you wish for...
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[ WP ] Write a story with nothing but plot twists .
| On that secret beach, bathed in moonlight, she draws even closer, her smooth cheeks flushed with passion. I've wanted this for so long, since we were children.
`` Abigail,'' I murmur, heart hammering, `` I love you. I always have.''
`` I know,'' she says. `` I'm sorry.''
I do n't even have to look down to know what she's pressed against my ribs.
`` Could you really do this, Abigail? Could you kill... your own brother?''
``... what?''
`` It's true. We were separated at birth to protect us from the Brotherhood. But now I see you've fallen in with them, despite our father's efforts.''
`` FUCK THE BROTHERHOOD! YOU DID N'T FEEL THE NEED TO MENTION THIS WHEN WE HOOKED UP AT RICKY'S CHRISTMAS PARTY?!''
`` I had to, Abigail. I had to impregnate you. You have to carry our child.''
One hand still holding the gun, she presses the other to her own belly.
``... our child?''
`` Yes. Our child is destined to save the human race. I forgot to mention, sometimes I have visions of the future.''
`` You bastard. You might have told me. I'm glad I let you eat the appetizers at that party,'' she sneers.
`` Appetizers?'' I ask. `` Why?''
`` THEY WERE MADE OF PEOPLE! FETA-MUSHROOM APPETIZERS FROM TRADER JOE'S ARE PEOPLE!''
I pull away from her and fall to the ground, retching. She stands over me, still holding the gun, every word she speaks dripping with contempt.
`` But if you have deceived me to a noble end, so that our child might save humanity, then you must also protect me. There is one thing I need from you. You owe me that much.''
`` For all I wish I did n't, I still love you. Name it, devil woman.''
Her eyes glitter in the moonlight. `` I need about tree fiddy.''
All at once, every inconsistency, every little thing I'd barely noticed and had n't thought about because I had n't wanted to face such a horrible truth, comes crashing back. My sister, my lover, the Madonna of the modern age, is a seven-story tall crustacean from the Paleozoic era.
`` Goddammit, Loch Ness Monster,'' I whisper, tears streaming down my face. `` I ai n't giving you no tree fiddy.''
With a mighty roar, Abigail crashes back into the dark sea from which she came, taking with her the pieces of my broken heart.
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[ WP ] Conclusive , irrefutable evidence has emerged that the 9/11 attacks were carefully orchestrated by members of the US government in conjunction with major US defense contractors . The country now stands at the brink of civil war .
| *My fellow Americans. *
*Today we stand on the precipice of another Civil War, one which apathy and greed has allowed to happen. Apathy of* *us, the American People, for not being aware of the sheer greed of the United States Government; The greed of Big* *Business, and defense contractors looking to make millions off of a fabricated war. Of myself, your President, * *Commander in Chief of the United States Military for being so blind as to ignore the obvious signs that this was indeed* *a move made from within. *
*We were so fast to place blame, to find a target for our wrath; we were manipulated by fear, by our thirst for* *vengeance, and we attacked like a rabid dog. Rest assured, that while high ranking members of our military and their* *most trusted soldiers will fight against us, more and more soldiers are coming over to our way of thinking. *
*In the coming days I am requesting the citizens of the great Nation to defend yourselves from the corruption of Big* *Business, of Defense contractors who know well what they do. We must fight, use our natural thinking abilities. They* *must be taught that greed has no place in this day and age, and that we must work as a people to make us proud to* *be American. *
*God bless every one of us, and good luck. *
How was that, Chairman? I do believe that this will be a spectacular payday for both of us. Lets do all that we can to increase the β militia β budget and to start production right away of the new line of β Civil Defense AR-15 β line. And have Doris come up with a new speech for me based around the loosening of gun control. After all, once fully automatic firearms are available to the average Joe, they will fly off the shelves.
It β s looking to be a very good Christmas indeed.
President [ REDACTED ], out.
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[ WP ] Write a story from the perspective of an animal . Do n't tell the reader it 's an animal until the very end .
| It was a quiet, but cold morning in November. I awoke from my bed and strolled outside to be amazed at the frost that has developed on the last bit of flowers left before winter. The air was frigid but that didn β t stop me to have a walk around the backyard. My nose felt like an icicle that seemed like it kept melting. My breath became visible in front of me. After my legs were loosened up for the day I came back inside and sat on the couch to watch the morning news. I didn β t quite understand what was going on. I usually tend to fade out and become real relaxed in my home. I fell asleep and I didn β t even know it. Hours later my friend who also lives with me, Ruxin, came over to wake me up. He had alerted me that I have been asleep for 3 hours and that my parents would be home in one hour. I started freaking out. I don β t remember the last time I saw my parents, I have very bad memory. I leaped off of the couch and immediately began to put things away that I had left out previously. All the toys that kept me entertained went back to their homes. I emptied out the dishes that were left for me. I wanted my parents to see how good of a boy I was. I heard the doorbell ring. It startled me so bad I almost shouted. I ran to the door, very excited to see them. I could hear them putting the key in the door, slowly the door opened with the squeakiness on the hinges. I jumped up and down and hugged them as soon as I saw them. They petted me and at that moment I knew order has been restored to the house.
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[ WP ] After returning from a solo camping trip , you find a photo on your camera of you sleeping
| It has been a few days since my camping trip at Mt Spooki, weird name for a mountain, must be Italian, my mom has been hassling me to send her my photos so she could indulge in new material for her scrap booking addiction. I booted the computer to the monotonous slow whir of the fan, feeling a bit low after being back to the grind, I fumbled with the SD card to get it out of the camera, it would n't eject right so I had to use a tweezers to pull it out, damn thing.
Slapping it into the computer I messed around the different instant prompts to get it to just save the pictures. After saving them to the computer I did n't bother to browse them, not really caring to bring myself down about not still being out in the wild all alone, I like to live in the moment, would n't have brought the camera if It was n't for my moms constant pestering.
Bringing up my email I did a simple drag and drop to send them, while it was moving through the various pictures I saw a glimpse of what looked like to be inside my tent with the flash lighting it up, I do n't remember taking a picture like that.
Going over the pictures again I found it, laying with my mouth slightly open as drool spilt to my pillow, I felt grossed with myself for a moment then wondering how in the world this picture was taken, perhaps clues in the next pictures?
As I moved from the front of the album to the back, everthing seemed to be in place, I just stared at the picture of me sleeping, half a bit scared, another half wondering how. I noticed in the background my phone was hung up in the tents little plastic pocket on the side, I could see a slight reflection. I zoomed in to see, it was a skeleton taking the picture!
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[ WP ] You 've accidentally killed the Devil . God makes you the new Devil to replace the one you killed .
| `` As a Satan, the first 24 hours of hell management are the most important''.
The angel, looking puzzled, as if I'm out of place, continued:
`` First things first, you have to beat the biggest-baddest demon you come across, right away. Establish a dominance''.
Eyeing me closer, the angel shook his head, yet continues:
`` Now, after you clobber'em, You have to immediately start running for office again. Hell is full of politicians scratching at the sulfuric walls for the job of Satan, and will say anything to be the lord of lies''.
Not looking convinced, the angel continues further:
`` Can you lie''.
`` yeah, I can lie good- I mean, in can lie well... `` This is going to be harder than I thought.
The angel, looking puzzled further, knew the same thing I was thinking.
`` Well, you're on your own from there'', said the angel. `` good luck, kid''
`` Ok'', taking a step back and turning - Beholding in awe, in front of me, a massive gate of fire, where through, the gates of hell open to the first circle. Humbling at its enormity, the hell mouth also causes a slight anxiety, as that's a pretty open space.
`` Excuse me, mr. guard dog and ferry man''.
Hoping to get directions before entering, because its just such a pain trying to find yourself around in these massive places of torment.
The ferryman turning and saying, `` aye''.
`` ahhh, I'm the new boss here, and I was thinking about touring the whirlwind of prostitutes and lechers first. Do you know what floor that is''?
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[ WP ] Lost and Found
| It was a rainy evening and in three minutes it would be nine o'clock. People usually had an umbrella, but this time a man entered walking slowly, as if the weather did n't affect him. He raised his eyes only to look for an office and he stared at the floor again as he went there.
`` I left two cubes of ice here last night'' he said melancholically. `` I was wondering... do you have a lost and found box here?''
`` Yes, we do, sir, but I do n't think there will be any ice there'' replied a woman while holding the laughter.
`` That's a shame.'' he whispered and looked at the desk for ten seconds. `` Are you sure?'' he asked with a second of optimism in his eyes.
`` Look, sir, I do n't have time for this. If there is n't anything else I can do for you, I urge you to let me do my work, I'm a bit busy right now''
A tear fell down his cheek and he closed his eyes for a full second. `` I really liked those cubes'', he finally murmured, he turned away and went back to the rain as slowly as he came.
EDIT: Well, I just noticed that it reads much faster than I had intended...
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[ WP ] The last entry of the journal .
| May 15, 1702
I write these words with some sadness because these will be my last thoughts recorded in this journal. It has been my companion for some time now but it it time for me to part with it. I have decided that, since I'm entering a new stage in my life, I might as well start a new journal...
I've often heard it said that you should look forward to new beginnings but I ca n't help but taste this one as bittersweet. I'll admit it, I'm nervous. Going off and leaving everything I know is incredibly frightening, more and more I keep finding excuses not to leave. But I already gave my word and they'll be expecting me there tomorrow. Besides since mother passed, there's nothing holding me here anymore. I do n't dare and reread my entries from when she was sick, I do n't think I can manage going to that dark place again. If she knew I joined a merchant ship's crew I believe she would've dropped dead then and there, even without telling her I'd be sailing to the Colonies in the Caribbean. Honestly, she's been afraid of the sea, and any relationship I might have with it, ever since father passed. Which is to say: all my life. I understand why, she was afraid that, like him, I would n't come back. Well that does n't matter now, nobody will be missing me here...
Nonetheless, even as I write, the notion hurts me for my mind and heart go to my beloved Maria. In truth, she is the only and strongest link tethering me home. She has graced me with her friendship, which is more than the merchant's daughter should have allowed me. Her father, however, will be pleased to hear of my departure; his daughter might have been oblivious to my heart but he certainly was n't.
I do n't know how I'll be able to sleep tonight! Every time I shut my eyes my mind goes to my Maria or to the sea. My mind races with predictions of what my future is going to hold. New and exotic lands, seeing the New World, waking up one day and being halfway across the world! My imagination simply can not keep up. However, I must confess I have my fears; I guess I'd be too much of a fool no to. As clearly as the my minds eye sees the good, it sees the bad: storms, getting lost or marooned or worse. I shudder to think we could fall victims to the damned pirates. The same fears deepen when I think that any of these could have caused my father's demise, a man who did n't get to meet his own son. I'll make his memory proud by being an honest man, an honest sailor or by avenging his death if should ever be confronted by any pirate. I'll climb the ranks, pay my dues and make a name for myself, in his honour.
I'm afraid this is the end. It is late and I must rest, we sail at dawn.
Onwards! Towards my new life and my future at sea! Goodbye and Thank you, my old friend.
βEdward Teachβ
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[ WP ] Take something that seems innocent or harmless , and make it scary .
| It became apparent that what I had walked into was not a hallway, but an infinite, circuitous, labyrinth. How did I get here? The woman said to take the door on the left. She had that look in her eye but I ignored it. How was I to know this is where she would lead me?
I started to walk. I walked and walked and never seemed to actually be going anywhere. Every corridor looked exactly the same. Those tile floors that have been cleaned with those cheap chemicals that make your shoes stick. Those blinding fluorescent lights. Every time I came to a fork in the hallway either direction seemed to go on for miles.
I heard the clicking heels of someone walking very briskly up behind me. I called out''Hello! Is anyone there? I seem to be lost.''. No response... I do n't know why but I had to get away I started running.
I do n't know how long it's been but I dare not stop. My eyes sting with sweat and every muscle of my body is screaming in pain. I have to keep running, *I have to... *
*edit: spelling.
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[ WP ] A drug has been outlawed decades ago that has a fifty-fifty shot at making you incredibly intelligent , or completely insane . You hold the last pill in existence .
| Dear Dr. Copeland,
With our work finally completed six months ago on Serocybin II, I thought I should level with you with regard to some information I've been withholding from you. Pause reading for a moment, go grab a cup of coffee and come back and finish this letter. I just got some more of that Venezuelan light roast I know you like. I'll wait.
Back? Good. Let me reassure of the the truths you know already. You already know that I was one of the original test group members for the original Serocybin drug trials those many years ago. You already know that only 5 doses were created and the 4 of us members were the recipients of it. Hopper went insane resulting in the Trafalgar incident. Lesig went insane but was n't discovered until he had spent years advancing in the British military and nearly succeeded in launching the United Kingdom's stockpile of nuclear ICBMs. Miles and I gained incredible intelligence and, even with our disagreements, have separately spent the last 30 years advancing science, agriculture, mathematics, robotics, and medicine.
The 50 % brilliance/insanity ratio made Serocybin too dangerous to give to the general public. The 5th dose was put in the vault never to be consumed by any human again. You know 2 years ago I convinced the UN to give me access the 5th dose for research, and that you and I have spent that time working to refine the chemical properties to eliminate the chance insanity factor leaving only the brilliance factor remaining. After being given access to the research and the pill my acquired brilliance allowed me to see the flaw nearly instantly. It was so simple. One protein marker was uncontrolled making it 50/50 shot whether the brilliance would be expressed in the person taking the drug. With the last 2 years of our work we have isolated the protein, controlled it, and can now force the drug to produce the brilliance we want for all of mankind. We can make every single user a guarantee of brilliance! A life's work complete!
I should tell you a little bit about the social effects of the acquired brilliance from the drug. Yes, you gain the brilliance but it makes you very lonely to have no peers. This loneliness is extremely isolating and I long for others to have the brilliance that I have. It has driving my desire to make Serocybin II so that there will be more like me, more brilliance in the world!
This is where my deception begins. First, our work on Serocybin II all this time was n't to prevent the protein marker from causing insanity, it was to guarantee brilliance. A white lie I hope you'll forgive me of. Second, the real percentage of becoming brilliant with the original Serocybin is truly 50 %. However, at the same time the chance of becoming insane is 100 %. It took Hopper, Lesig, Miles, and I a bit of time to come to terms with this when the insanity set it for each of us, but it truly drives you to act. Hopper did n't gain brilliance and Trafalgar bears the result. Nor did Lesig, but he could follow instructions Miles and I fed him and was nearly successful. My third deception, I've dosed all the coffee in the our lab, including Venezuelan light roast with Serocybin II. I know this will be hard to grasp at the beginning, but I know you will appreciate what I've done for you as soon as your brilliance is unlocked.
I'm looking forward to hearing your plans for Serocybin II, and how we can make the world a better place.
Yours,
Smith
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[ WP ] An alien civilization declares war on humanity . They soon realize that humans have invented weapons that no other civilization they know of has : firearms .
| Yupar examined the corpses of his men all lined up along the ground, eyes closed and arms by their sides. Dried blue blood coagulated in patches where their skin opened up, sometimes at the waist, sometimes at the thigh of one of their four legs, sometimes in the head, and sometimes invisible β until you flipped the bodies around.
β Seventeenβ¦ eighteenβ¦ nineteenβ¦ this is too many β, Yupar thought aloud. β On every single planet we β ve been to, we β ve never lost so many in a day β or even in a whole gyar. β ( A gyar is about 45 human days )
β So what β s the problem? β Yupar asked his lieutenant, a squat, Khine who hopped around on three legs, having lost one in battle ( or rather, after, as one of the women he met at a brothel caught him by surprise ).
β The people here β they seem to have something we don β t, and something we β ve never seen before, β replied Lin, his voice shaking in the presence of his mentor, superior and lord. β They have these devices β these, these things that can hit us from far away. There β s just a little burst and a loud noise, and the next thing you know, one of our Khine is lying face down, blood squirting out of a hole in his body as he tells us to tell his mother he loves her. β
β What? β exclaimed Yupar, shocked. β The Khine are the undisputed masters of the universe. For millennia we have gone to distant worlds, colonised them and showed them the correct way of life. How can it be that this mere stripling of a civilisation, ugly and poor can defeat us in battle? β
β I can explain that, sir, β said a young, ambitious scientist, looking particularly academic with spectacles drooped unevenly over all of his eyes. β These people, humans as they like to call themselves, have an unfair advantage over us. β
β What β s that? β said Yupar, curious to know what could stop his God-sent mission.
β Experience. According to one of the humans I captured, they β ve developed these things β guns they call them β along with thousands of other weapons over generations of combat. β
β But who have they been fighting? I thought we were the first civilised species to reach this planet. β
β Yes, we are, but you see β they β ve been fighting each other. For years, they β ve been killing, maiming, hurting each other, trying to get better than one another at it. Why? I β ve been trying to get my hostage to tell me, but all she says is that they do it for things: wealth, land, power β but I think she β s lying. Not even humans are barbaric enough to kill each other over such frivolities. β
β You β you mean these people kill each other? β Yupar exclaimed incredulously.
β It would appear to be that way, β replied Ong the young scientist, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.
Yupar turned around and walked a few steps in silence. He looked out of the front window of his ship, at the cloudy blue planet before him, spinning slowly. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily, as though he were trying to contain nausea.
β Let β s turn around, β he said, with a quiet conviction in his voice.
β B-but the mission, β fumbled Lin, β What about all these Khine who died, what about bringing the word of God to these people? β
β I think there β s no point, β Yupar stated as the blue planet disappeared out of view through the large window at the ship β s nose. β Not even God can save these people. β
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[ WP ] Everyone is immortal except for one fatal flaw . What is yours and how do you protect it from others ?
| It happened twenty years ago. Some call it a blessing. Others call it a curse. I, for one, sit in the second category. Humanity was granted immortality for some reason.
It mainfests as feeling great. However, one part of the body turns bright red. Usually at least. Some people have psychological flaws, such as toung twisters, classical music, or a fear of germs. Most of these people die. Others live long enough to find out what theirs is through hypnosis.
Anyways, if this part of the body or brain is touched by another living creature, that person instantly dies. Which is why some call it a curse. Some people wear gloves or always wear jeans or shoes. In my case it's a bit more... Intimate... I have n't ever had sex. I wo n't either for fear of death. And my god is life a bitch.
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[ WP ] `` It surprised me how much creamer Death put in his coffee . ''
| `` I do n't think I can do this,'' I whispered to my husband. `` I ca n't go in there. I ca n't... Do n't make me do this.''
He held my hand and led me into the room. The tears started as soon as I crossed the threshold. My child was gone. Taken from me. My arms empty. I longed to hold him and hug him and hear his voice talk about Minecraft again. I would never hear him talk about Minecraft anymore. My heart broke all over again.
Friends and family were there for support. Many with tears, as well. I heard whispered words of encouragement, but was too numb with grief to understand them.
`` I ca n't do this. I want to leave,'' I said as I neared the front of the room.
`` It'll be okay. You'll regret this if you leave. You'll hate yourself for it and wish you had stayed,'' my husband replied. I knew he was right so I took my seat. As much as I wanted to pretend this was n't... could n't be real I knew beyond hope it was really happening.
My eyes strayed to him. This man Death who took my child from me. Clean shaven. Nice suit and tie. *'' Not a bowtie, though'' * The thought choked a sob out of me and brought a fresh round of tears. This man - Death - was a better sight than I with my red swollen eyes and hollowed cheeks. I looked haunted. I felt haunted. And now I face this man Death.
It surprised me how much creamer Death put in his coffee. I wanted to throw the whole pot of steaming scalding coffee in his face. This man, this Death that took my child...
I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to hurt him like he hurt me. I wanted him to live the rest of his days in torment. I glared at him, this man, this Death, this vile filth that took an innocent life.
And then the words came down...
`` I do hereby find you guilty of vehicular homicide and sentence you to the maximum 30 years in light of your habitual violations, with no option for parole for a minimum of ten years. While imprisoned you shall be required to attend AA meetings at a minimum of once weekly. You shall not hold a driver's license in this state again, your privileges are permanently revoked.''
Death did not take kindly to that and tried to splutter a protest. The judge cut him off...
`` You're lucky this is what you're sentenced to. I have half a mind to grant the families' request and tattoo your crime on you for the world to see. How does a scarlet letter sound to you? They requested an'A' on the back of one hand for alcoholic and the date you took their children's lives on the other. You were drunk behind the wheel and managed to kill 17 children when you hit that bus and it spun off the bridge. Children! And you want to argue your sentence?! No more words from you or I will grant the families' request.''
But Death would not be stayed, `` Your honor, I...''
`` And now I am granting the families' request. You shall hereby be branded with your crime and the date. May it be a constant reminder to you of how you destroyed 17 families.''
This man, this Death, hung his head. Though I wished it was not all that hung that day. This man, this Death took my child....and I wanted his life in return. At least he was no longer free to kill others.
My arms are still empty. My heart is still heavy. This man... This Death took my sunlight from the world. I will never forgive this man Death.
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[ WP ] You finish your cigarrete break at the office . When you walk inside everything is silent , and you notice that everyone is staring at you .
| Peter was taking the last drag of his cigarette, savoring the thick feeling in his throat. Cancer, he thought, cancer will probably get me before long. Just as he was about to completely fill his lungs he heard a strange metallic plunk. Peter turned to see what the source of the noise was. As he turned, he watched as a fly flew up to meet his forehead. He swatted it away and coughed the smoke back out of his body. Disappointed over his last drag, he flicked the cigarette butt into the street. Peter sighed as he watched the butt roll down the gutter in the wind. Looking up at the sky he figured it was probably going to rain soon, he could swear he even felt a few drops on his face.
As Peter made his way back into his office he realized everyone was silent. No one was doing any work or really much of anything. All thirty people in the room where looking out the window. Peter tried to quietly slip back to his desk but the door closing behind him caught in the wind and slammed. Everyone turned. They all stared at him, eyes wide, mouths slack. He was confused.
Trying to laugh off the situation, Peter made a stupid remark that went largely unnoticed. He shrugged and made an effort to get to his desk again. People gasped as he turned. His legs faltered momentarily, giving a silly looking wiggle as he tried to walk. No one would say anything to him, no one said anything at all, they all just stared at him. Peter took another step and again his legs wiggled and barely supported his weight. Peter was becoming confused and concerned.
Behind him more gasps rang out and poor Sally fainted. Peter turned to face all of them and realized his head was beginning to pound. He looked at his co-workers angrily and demanded someone tell him what was going on. Jeff stepped forward and offered a hand. Peter felt the rain drops from before running down his face. He could have sworn he had wiped them off before. Looking at his finger tips he realized the rain was red. He did n't understand. Just as his body gave out, and he dropped in a twisted heap onto the ground, he realized what had happened. He gave a soft, huh, right before falling.
Some people ran to call the police. Some people ran to Peter to try and help him. The majority of the other employees turned their attention back to the window. All of them watched in horror as the shootout happening down the street continued, bullets flying in every direction.
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[ WP ] A Kidnapper and his victim genuinely end up falling in love . They always knew this day would eventually come : `` Mommy , Daddy , how did you guys meet ? ''
| **To: ** io.europa @ crete.com, helen @ sparta.com
**From: ** Persephone Despoina
**Subject: ** Thank you for the baby shower, please don β t judge!!!!
Hey ladies!!!!!
Thank you so much for the baby shower yesterday!!! I β m so lucky to have you girls in my life. I love you all SOOOOO MUCH. I never thought I would end up with such amazing besties who would knit me, like, a thousand baby socks, and make me a giant baby-head cake - how long did that even take to make?!?!
There β s something that I β ve never told you guys, but after that baby shower, I feel like I have to be honest with my soul sisters, so tonight, I β m coming clean.
Sooooooooooo, my husband actually kidnapped me about six months ago - it was a real shotgun marriage. At first, I wouldn β t even talk to him, but he said that if I didn β t talk to him, I wouldn β t get to eat. I stuck it out for as long as I could, but then I got so hungry I ate six pomegranate seeds from the fruit platter he β d put in my room to tempt me. LITERALLY JUST SIX. I didn β t even think he β d notice. Turns out he did, and that β s when he, you know, decided to make a baby with me.
Right after that, the police stormed in, and my mom wanted him to rot in jail forever, but apparently eating six pomegranate seeds counts as consent, and I guess it makes sense?
Anyway we really love each other now, and Hades lets me see my mom every six months, because she got a ton of lawyers on his case, and she made him sign a pre-nup that says I get to spend half the year with her. I think he's scared that she would, actually, like, blow up the whole planet just to get me away from him.
I just wanted to get this off my chest and be totally honest with my BFFs. I love you all!!!!!
Persephone xoxo
-- --
**To: ** persephone @ hades.com, helen @ sparta.com
**From: ** Io Europa
**Subject: ** Re: Thank you for the baby shower, please don β t judge!!!!
Persephone, no way, I thought I was the only one! There is totally nothing to be ashamed of, about marrying your kidnapper!!! In fact at least you got married, MY KIDNAPPER ALREADY HAD A WIFE.
Also, I β m glad you shared, because girl, let me tell you, the hard part is figuring out what to tell your kid when he starts to ask questions about how mommy met daddy.
I never told you girls this either because I didn β t want you to think I was weird or anything, but basically, my family used to spend our summers at my grandad β s farm, and I β d always help out with the cows. Then one day, I headed to the pasture, and there was this amazing, sparkling, white cow that I β d never seen before. I went to pet it, and that β s when it somehow threw me over it β s back and rode off with me.
I think I, like, fainted, because when I woke up we were on this island, and this guy was making me wear a necklace and kept trying to give me all these other gifts and stuff. I was pretty sure he would kill me if I didn β t, so I put the necklace on. And that β s when, you know, he decided to make a baby in me too.
And then the coast guard showed up, but just like pomegranate seeds, necklaces count as consent too! Girl, I β ll say it again, you got soooooooo lucky - at least yo β baby daddy ain β t ALREADY MARRIED.
Yeah, about that - I never told you guys because I didn β t want you to think I was a whore or anything, but Zeus is married, and that β s why he β s always on β business trips β and not home when you guys come over for dinner. He sees us like, once or twice a month though, so it β s okay.
Anyway two weeks ago Minos was like, β Mommy, how did you meet daddy? β
And I was like, β Mommy will tell you later, she β s busy right now. β
So now I β m like, what do I even tell him?! Because I guess mommy and daddy love each other now, but I don β t want him to grow up thinking that kidnapping is legal or something.
-- -- -- -- --
**To: ** io.europa @ crete.com, persephone @ hades.com
**From: ** Helen Shiplauncher
**Subject: ** Re: Re: Thank you for the baby shower, please don β t judge!!!!
WTF!!!! IS THIS A THING?! I WAS KIDNAPPED TOO!!!
The first time was when I was thirteen, and this guy called Theseus stole me and was going to wait until I was old enough before marrying me. But then he went to hang out with one of his buddies, and my brothers broke in to save me. Seriously, it was SUCH a close call.
And then, while I was still with Menelaus, I met Paris, and he says we fell in love and ran away together, but I remember when I got on the boat with him, I was tied up and stuff. Also, he tried to, you know, make a baby with me before kidnaping me, but I am sure I consented, somehow. I think Paris and I are having trouble these days, like, his family hates me, and I don β t really trust him.
The point is, it β s okay to have been kidnapped, girls!!!!! Also, Io, as someone who has been married twice - marriage is SOOOOOOOOOO overrated. You are totally not a whore.
-- -
**To: ** helen @ sparta.com, io.europa @ crete.com
**From: ** Persephone Despoina
**Subject: ** Re: Re: Re: Thank you for the baby shower, please don β t judge!!!!
I AM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU GIRLS!!!!!! I feel so much better now, and I feel kind of bad for saying this but I β m so glad we β ve all been through this together!!!
Helen, there β s this therapist that Hades and I have been going to, you should totally check her out. She β s really good at figuring things out before they even happen! Email oracle @ delphi.com and tell her I sent you.
LOVE YOU ALL CAN β T WAIT FOR LUNCH TOMORROW!!!!
-- -- -- --
**To: ** oracle @ delphi.com
**Bcc: ** persephone @ hades.com, io.europa @ crete.com
**From: ** Helen Shiplauncher
**Subject: ** Fwd: Re: Re: Re: Thank you for the baby shower, please don β t judge!!!!
Dear Oracle,
My friend Persephone has reccommended you for marriage counselling. I am having trouble trusting my husband, and his family are now claiming that my ex-husband and his friends are harassing them. I don β t know how to take our relationship forward. Do you think you could help?
Best regards,
Helen Sparta
-- -
**To: ** helen @ sparta.com
**From: ** Oracle Delphi
**Subject: ** Re: Fwd: Re: Re: Re: Thank you for the baby shower, please don β t judge!!!!
Dear Helen,
I foresee some very intense conflicts in your future. Let β s get started on strengthening your marriage ASAP. I β m available tomorrow at 7:30PM; would this suit you and your husband?
And tell your friend Io that she should just tell Minos that she met his father on an island vacation. Do not mention the cow; the last thing we want is for Minos to end up with a bovine fixation.
Best regards,
Oracle Delphi
|
[ WP ] DiaperMan - The shittiest superhero of all time .
| Upon graduation we were all granted our superpowers. You've got your guys who get their super strength, or your girl's who get their super speed. Personally, I was holding out for being able to light myself on fire, or even to hold my breath underwater for a really long time.
I was n't that lucky.
`` Scott Green,'' Principal Larkin's voice boomed around the auditorium. I stood up, shaking slightly. Walking down the aisle and towards the podium, I climbed the steps and reached out my hand to grab my diploma and hear my fate.
`` By the power invested in me by the University of Power San Diego, I declare you to have the power of I.B.S.,'' Larkin said, handing me my diploma.
`` I.B.S.?'' I asked.
`` Irritable Bowel Syndrome of course, Mr. Green, or as I should say, Diaper Man!''
I looked into the crowd, barely able to make out my parents sitting in the stands. I could almost see the look of disappointment on their faces.
And right there, in front of nearly 2,000 spectators, I shit myself.
And, that's how I became Diaper Man.
Now, I know what you're thinking, what kind of superpower is the ability to have to shit painfully at any given moment?
Well, let me give you an example when hot excrement suddenly gushing from your asshole is a blessing.
Actually, could I get back to you on that one? There's a sale on toilet paper at the local corner store, and I really ca n't afford to not get in on that.
|
[ RF ] The police respond to a call reporting domestic violence , but arrive to something else entirely .
| 'All units, all units in zone 5, be advised, multiple reports of a domestic dispute occurring in 1300 block of Amherst Drive. Any units to respond'
The radio chirped off, waiting for someone to respond. I was not in the mood for this shit. I just started my OT, and I did n't want to spend it doing a bunch of fuckin' paperwork for some drunk asshole who could n't stop himself after one too many beers. Fuck it, it's my baby now, I guess.
'Yeah, 10-4 Base 3, you got a description of the residence? Or of the suspect?'
'House is described as brown paint with a new model Chevy pickup in the driveway. No description other than loud yelling. One male voice, one female'
'Yeah, okay. See if you can get a callback on a description. I'm 13'
I flipped a quick U turn, punched the accelerator on my unit, and put on the lights. No siren. I do n't need to give this fucker a reason to wail on this girl anymore than it might have already happened.
I've worked these streets for 12 years. I've seen a lot of shit. Responding to a DV is about the bottom 5 of things I like to deal with at the end of a swing shift after working 8 days straight. There's too much bullshit these days to deal with. Used to be we'd take the guy out back, give him a nice little wake up call with a few Danners to the chest, and let him know what would happen if we needed to come back again. That usually did the trick. Usually. Nowadays, you got ta establish who's victim and who's been a bad boy. Or girl. Then you got ta bring them both in, because even though one's in the shit, the other's gon na need victim advocate assistance. And then you got ta write up a report of the whole incident. That's an easy hour if everything went alright. More than likely you used force against someone, so there's another report, and it ai n't like that shit can get put on ice.
But whatever, it's my fuckin' baby, right? I'm the only one in zone 5 tonight, and the station knows it. It ai n't like we've had a shitton of coverage to begin with, they're lucky I did n't bang in instead. I could use an extra day off, but bills do n't pay themselves with sick leave.
I check my GPS. Two minutes out.
I thumb my radio from its retention clip and half-yell over the engine noise'Base 3, 7709, you get any further description on the situation?'
'Negative, 7709. Continued yelling from male and female subjects. Caller stated the language sounds foreign though'
Ahh fuck me... this is going down faster than a goddamn brick house...'Yeah, 10-4, I'm less than one mike out'
Finding the place was easy enough actually. I turned on Amherst from 56th, and there it was, brown house about 200 yards from the intersection, one of those new Chevy Z71s in the driveway. Fuckin sick ugly ass green color though, looks like a fuckin pine tree shit it out.
I park the unit right there on the side of the road. No lights on in the house except that blue glow from a TV on somewhere inside. No shadows moving around. I can definitely hear something though. Some kind of yelling. Male for sure, but then the female is yelling back. Almost guttural, like she's putting some fuckin bass in that shit. I ca n't understand any of it though. Too far away.
'Base, show 7709 on scene with that DV'
'10-4 7709, please advise on updates'
'10-4, will do'
I've already got my hand on my side arm, just in case. I've seen more than one cop go down from this shit before, and I definitely do n't want to be in that statistic field. Shine my light on the entry windows. Some shit got knocked down, like a little side table or something, but that's about all I can make out. No broken glass, pottery, blood on the hardwood, nothing.
*THUMP THUMP THUMP*
'Police! Anyone home?! I'm gon na need to talk to someone here!'
Silence. Pure fuckin' silence. That kind of silence when someone's just been busted silence, like they think not yelling all of a sudden is gon na make me go away or something.
*THUMP THUMP*
'POLICE! Someone needs to open the-'
***AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!! ***
Clear as a fuckin bell, that's the kind of yell someone makes right before they're about to get killed.
'Base, 7709! I got screams of distress from the male inside! Forcing entry, get an EMT and backup over here now! Entering through the front door!'
'10-4, 7709, units will be responding...' and she cuts off with her directing. I ca n't hear shit anyways, I've been slamming the fuck out of this door, kicking it like it owes me money or some shit.
***'NONONONONONOOOOO-!!!'***
Fuck! What the fuck is this door made out of, fuckin' Adamantium?! I step back, and drive my fuckin' foot through the door right above the lock, splintering the goddamn doorframe. I unholster, light out, scanning and clearing the living room. Clear.
'SIR! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! WHERE ARE YOU?!' And start making my left down the hallway. Clear bathroom. Clear closet. Make it to the kitchen. Blood. All over the fuckin ground. Knife left on the table, one of those butcher knives you get from the cheap ass wood block cutlery sets.
'Base, 7709, victim was stabbed, severe blood loss, I need an ETA on that fuckin' EMS!'
Static. Pure static. Shit. The house is probably jacking up my radio. Shiiiiiit. See the blood trail lead to a door in the kitchen. Probably basement. Try the door. Locked. Kick it. Once, twice, three times. Fourth time I get splintering. Fifth time the door's gone.'SIR! SIR, HELP ME FIND YOU! YOU GOT TA HELP ME GET TO YOU!'
Start slowly creeping down the stairs. I have no idea where this psycho bitch is, and I really do n't want to find her down here as I'm trying to patch this guy up.
Start noticing the wall. The fuck is this? It's some like, reddish orange symbols, almost like glow in the dark, painted on here. Not in any language I've ever seen. They look more like pictures than writing, but there's blood smeared on it anyways, so I ca n't fuckin' tell.
'Sir? Can you hear me?' Make it to the bottom of the stairs. Light starts to flicker. Fuck man, I thought I charged this thing last night!'Sir? Hello?'
Make a long sweep across the floor. I see a foot. A body sitting up. He's shaking. Eyes are wide. He's scared. More of that weird paint shit behind him.
He lifts his hand and points at me. Still scared.'Shh shh shh! It's okay bud, I'm gon na help you out, I'm gon na get you out of here okay! You're gon na be okay!', and start rushing towards him. He's still pointing st me.
'Behind!' It's almost a whisper.
'Behind!' He says louder.
My light fuckin' dies.
''BEHIIIIIND!'
And all I hear is a deep growling in the dark.
|
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