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[ WP ] You are the best hitman that ever lived . You are determined to kill every target you get , no matter the effort or cost . Today a grieving widow asks you to wipe her husband 's killer off the earth . Your target : cancer .
| I jumped onto the back of my greatest foe. Cancer. Celestial spacecrab of legend. I thrust a pointy spear deep into its godlike crab flesh. And yet I quickly felt unfulfilled, even as it shuttered and drew its last breath. The constellations could be killed, but could I kill my broken heart?
Years earlier, a woman gave me my contract. `` Kill cancer'' she told me `` and break the curse on my family''. and then she died, the demon crabs overwhelmed the thin lining of her lungs and the crabs poured out of her mouth. I never got to kiss her goodbye. That would have infected me with the crabs.
Back in the present I returned home. There was no more cancer. People thanked me a lot. `` I was full of angry crabs and now I'm not, thank you'', stuff like that. I tried my best to share their joy, they were right about the world being better without crabs. I even found love with a nice farmer girl who also was happy to no longer be under the curse of cancer.
`` Ar n't you happy there's no more crabs now?'' she said at our wedding.
`` Every time I look at you I'm reminded of a woman I once knew. I never knew her name, but I never stopped loving her. I ca n't look at you without remembering what could have been'' I told her, and she cried. And I hit her. Cancer had made me into a monster. I knew what had to be done.
I boarded a spaceship, knowing I'd never see earth again. I wanted to go back to the one moment I was happy, while defeating demon space crabs and basking in endless adoration. I could n't live a normal life anymore. Cancer had ruined me. Cancer had ruined far too many lives. And I needed it back in my life forever.
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[ WP ] No one has ever realized that karma was an exp . system , but today someone levels up .
| Glenn leaned over and picked up the old lady's wallet and handed it back to her as they exchanged smiles. He had just returned from volunteering at the animal shelter when he noticed her drop it.
`` Thank you, young...'' she was in the process of saying when the swirling light appeared around him with musical accompaniment. She screamed and ran.
Glenn stared at the words floating before him pulsing in the air `` Level 2!!! ``, watching in stunned silence as they spun then faded. People were staring and looking for hidden cameras.
`` What the heck!'' He said, searching with them.
`` Congratulations, Glenn!'' The new words appeared then faded. He waited, unsure of what would come next but knowing deep down his wait would be short.
`` Choose Level 2 Talent:
A. Teleportation - Teleport anywhere in 1 mile radius. Cool down 5 minutes. Not usable inside of buildings.
B. Summon Pet - Summon supernatural pet that will level up with you. Not usable inside of buildings.
C. Increases Karmic Generation - Increase Karmic experience generation by 25 %. Not usable inside of buildings''
`` What do they have against buildings?'' He asked out loud when he finished reading.
`` Dude, teleportation! Think the time you could...'', someone suggested.
`` Do n't listen to that idiot! Who would n't randomly want to summon unicorns and...'' another person broke in as small arguments broke out in the gathering crowd.
Glenn reached out and touched C, the text highlighted and he clicked yes in the are you sure prompt, Most of the crowd was angry and stormed off calling him an idiot.
`` Mister,'' a small girl asked, `` Why did you choose that?''
Glenn smiled at her and said, `` It's the good deed that counts, not the reward.''
His experience went up 125 points.
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[ FF ] Write a short story that takes place within 24 hours using 600 words or less .
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Frankie stood up in the middle of Mr. Inglewood lecture on post-modernism versus modernism in literature and the overlapping themes of subjectivism and the schism from the realist movement of the 19th century. Frankie was tired of hearing about James Joyce and the mass-influence he had on post-modernism. Personally, Frankie did n't give a damn, dear.
Frankie grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder and spun around on his heels like a private in his first week of boot camp. He headed for the door. Mr. Inglewood did n't even miss a heartbeat. His PowerPoint slid on seamlessly outlining the reasons why James Joyce ’ s death effectively marked the end of modernism.
Frankie walked out into the harsh sunlight. He squinted, shuffled his backpack around to the front, and struggled to unearth his wire-rimmed sunglasses, reminiscent of Raoul Duke ’ s. He slung them on his face and stalked forward down the steep steps, away from his education and Mr. Inglewood mind-numbing PowerPoint presentations.
He walked past his favorite tree. It was a tall oak, whose roots formed a snug divot that Frankie liked to pretend was fashioned exactly for his particular use. He joked with his mom that the tree is 78 % of the reason he chose to attend Princeton. The other 22 % had to do with the fact that his mother woke up talking about college and went to sleep talking about college. It was the best time of her life. It is where she met his father. It is where she works. Sometimes where she sleeps, in her office covered by her own trench coat and a pile of ungraded attempts at insight.
Frankie kept walking past his regular coffee kiosk and Carol, the slight-gray haired barista who always greeted him saying “ What a day, is n't it? ” to which he would reply, “ Well, it is a day, so you got me there. ” Frankie kept walking. Out the iron gates onto Nassau Street. He walked past his favorite restaurant, Bigge Mike ’ s Subs and past the second-hand bookstore where he found his copy of Albert Camus, The Stranger, whose insides were filled with the scribbled ramblings from at least three previous owners.
Frankie walked until it was dark and the streets were beginning to empty. He watched a couple fighting. Their expressions seemed surreal under the flickering fluorescence of the neon-red light sign that flashed, Closed, in the window of the tattoo shop, Ink Me, Baby. The girl, angry. The boy, apologetic. Frankie wished he could hear their voices, but he kept walking.
Frankie walked until he reached an empty lot. The grass was growing sporadically and there were torn trash bags in a corner near the fence, but he saw a tree. An oak, like the one on campus. Its roots were large and seemed to growing as if they were trying to avoid sinking too deep into the soil. The stretched out toward him. Calling for him. He felt it deep in the pit of his stomach. The pull was carnal, similar to the pull he felt the first night Melanie Fink rested her forehead on his. He breathed her in and the smell of her was almost better than her lips on his.
Frankie walked toward the tree as the sun began to peak its iridescent head over the horizon. He sat under its branches and breathed in the morning air. The dew fresh on his skin and he curled up into the tree ’ s trunk. He suddenly felt sleep overcome him. His last thoughts were about James Joyce and whether he would care if he ended the modernist movement.
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[ CW ] Write a short story using the following phrases and object ...
| The funerary wreath which crowned her sodden hair was simple, but spoke eloquently of Peth's life. They found her, suspended in the long river grasses, mourned only by bloated toads, their throng doubled by the liquid mirror, but still lacking the numbers that could have been expected for Peth.
The first time they met her, both of my parents had commented on how much her looks reminded them of Pre-Raphaelite paintings.
`` Androgynous?'' Peth had asked.
My father had laughed, `` No, striking, defined...''
`` Perfect.'' my mother had finished the thought for him.
Of course, they could have added'tragic' to the pot. She was so romantically drawn to the concept of tragedy. I honestly hated that about her; that she could see the tragic, the melancholic, the haunting, the ever present darkness. In some respects, I suppose you could say that was jealousy, although I ca n't bring myself to stomach the thought that I could have been jealous of her.
She had stopped me in the doorway of the Spa store, as I'd been walking out with an arm full of cheap beers.
`` You're single right?''
`` Um.'' I did n't turn around. I bit my lip and tried awkwardly to drag the heavy door open with my little finger. Perhaps she was talking to someone else.
`` Tasha!''
God, she knew my name. I really had n't expected that. I'd spoken to her so many times, but I know that she had never asked my name, so she could have only gotten it from one place.
`` Shaun, you're a complete cock you know?''
`` What?''
`` You gave her my name, my number? Told her I was single. You told her I'm gay?''
Shaun flinched, ducking back into the couch cushions, `` I told her that you had mentioned her a few times.''
Shaun lived above the Spa store and usually saw Peth a couple of times a day, just in passing, but enough that he was comfortable around her. He knew I'd forgive him, of course. Not for giving Peth my deets; of course that required no real apology, but behind that simple act, there had been good cause to hate Shaun. Some time in September, Shaun and I had our first real conversation about girls. He'd come on to me, awkwardly, and I was of course forced to have'that' talk. I think he was angry, or offended perhaps. He was convinced my professed sexual proclivities were just a ploy to make him back off. Perhaps it was to test the legitimacy of my claim, or perhaps his intentions were more benign, but either way, he took great pride in telling me a week later that he and Tricia Wellman had... well, say no more. Of course it hurt, but his apology would ultimately cause so much more pain.
Peth.
I'm holding that door, about to leave the Spa store, and Peth stops me in my tracks, `` Tasha, look, I would n't normally do this, but you should come over mine tonight.''
I dropped one of the beers, which spurted and spiralled through the doorway, out onto the street.
I swallowed down the embarrassment and `` Where do you live?''
`` 182 Oak View. Big house, bay windows. Do n't forget your toothbrush.''
I could feel the heat in my cheeks, but I managed to smile.
That first night, when I turned up at her house, I did n't know what to expect. I did n't know if she just wanted a friend to talk to, I would have been happy to spend the time in her company. The toothbrush though... I had n't done a sleepover in a long time, not really since I'd realised the nature of the feelings I was having about one of my friends.
I had looked over my shoulder apprehensively, waved at my dad, half hoping that he'd bail before she opened the door, half hoping he'd stay long enough to rescue me when this all turned out to be a huge mistake. Then the door opened, and Peth jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs around me as she kissed me. What's that sound? A heart exploding in my ears, an engine revving, a thousand question's answered in a single exhalation.
The field marshal led me through the swampgrasses, the short-knecked girraffe in his ill-advised camo and his clown foot clodhoppers.
`` Take my hand.''
I could n't. His would be the first hand I'd held since that night. How could I? But after I'd fallen thigh deep in the murky slurry, I felt glad for his rough hand, and my dad's arm around my shoulder.
When I saw Peth, the tragic Ophelia, with the twisted flax crown and flowing blond hair, I gripped that hand, so tight, and it gripped back.
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[ WP ] a legendary vampire hunter has retired to settle down with a wife and have children . But a group of young hell raising vampires are looking for him , and they want a peice of him .
| `` A Hunter needs to be smart, strong, fast and lucky to survive. Vampires are stronger and faster than any of us anyway but training yourself you can close the gap a little. A hunter needs to be preared and he needs to know what he is doing. A hunter chooses his battleground carefully, he knows when and where to fight and when to run away if they want to survive.
I've grown too old for running. I've grown too slow and too weak to fight vampires head on.
I am quite impressed you managed to gather a dozen vampires to try and take me on. I guess my name and my reputation still carry some weight for your people. You are predators after all. rarely do you gather in big groups. A coven of four of your kind is a rare sight already. With all of you always fighting and squabbling for your hunting grounds. Most of you rarely ever fight for your lifes. You are generally superioir. You are stronger and faster and you can easily grow hundreds of years old but so few ever do that. That's because while you are stronger and faster than any of us you lack conviction and smarts, but most of all you lack experience and restraint.
I would never have come for you or your friends. I am too old to hunt you down anymore. i am to slow to run after you, to weak to take even one of you on in a direct fight anymore.
It's been decades since I went on a hunt. I had a fearsome reputation back in the day, but I quit it all for a Waitress I met one day. I met her, I fell for her. I gave up the life I knew and I had another one. I had a family and children. By now my children had children of their own even. All that made me the happiest I had ever been.
Sadly my wife hdied last year. There was nothing to be done about it and I am quite at peace about it. However that has left me with a lot of free time. I read some news and fell back into some old habits. I can stll spot the signs of a town infested with vampires just by reading the news nd looking at some statistics. Your Kind have never been very sart about what they are doing, but who could blame you. You are so much stronger than us, so much faster, so much harder to kill by most means. You are usually quite arrogant but your most distinct flaw is how driven by instinct you are. It is so easy to predict your intentions and what you are about to do.
Idid n't come here on accident and I did n't use my old abandoned name out of carelessness. I found myself a nice place in one of the worst vampire infested towns I could find. I had it fixed up and then went around making my own little changes to it. Nothing that could easily be seen from the outside and even if someone where to coe here for a quick vist they would hardly notice anything odd about this place.
It's of coure a giant trap with me as bait dangling inside.
You thought you could waltz in here and get yourself a rputation by killing one lonely old hunter, but one whose name is still well known.
I am not quite sorry to disappoint you. You came in as a mighty dozen, arrogant and driven by instincts you can hardly ever keep in check at all. Now your friends have all died and you are about to follow them.
Maybe the next ones will prove to be more successfull.''
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[ WP ] PVP has been turned off for years . Everyone now knows , that no blade can pierce the skin with the INTENT to kill or harm . You are at the doctor getting a shot when the needle bends upon touching your upper arm ...
| **So I completely misunderstood the prompt, but still did n't want this to go to waste. **
`` Morning doc.''
Doctor Jennings looks up from my file as he steps into the room, `` Morning Will.'' He flashes that'too' white smile at me. He looks over my file again, sitting in his little black stool, `` Here for a booster?''
I nod and roll up my sleeve as he fumbles around his cabinets, pulling out a small pre-filled and sealed syringe.
`` Okay, you know the drill,'' he says holding the syringe. With a quick swipe across my wrist, a digital user interface appears before my eyes. My personal data scrolls by on virtual displays as I look at the doctor and register a duel. I give a small chuckle. Back in the olden days a duel was a fight to the death, now it was the only means of disabling the world wide PVP system between two people. If we did n't the second that needle touched my skin, it'd bend like a reed.
The word'Accepted' flashes in my vision as the Doctor accepts the duel, `` Alrighty then.''
Jennings step over with the syringe and a individual alcohol swab, but somethings wrong. He's sweating in this cold office. His lip twitches. His left hand is behind his back. Oh God!
With a quick motion, I kick the doctor in the chest and he stumbled back into the cabinets. From behind his back his hand swings out revealing an revolver. He points it at me as I roll off the examining table. A loud bang rips though the room. I look up and see the doctor reeling from the blast. He's not used to the recoil of the weapon and was n't expecting the loud bang in such a small room.
On my feet again, I rush the good doctor. He raises the gun at me, but he struggles with it a bit, giving me enough time to close the gap. With a thud, my fist finds his gut and knocks the wind out of him. His arm goes wide and another round rips through the office. Ears ringing, I reach for his hand and rip the gun from his grip. Jennings crumples down onto the floor.
Outside I can hear women screaming and people yelling, no doubt one of the nurses will be calling the police. I turn my attention back to the doctor curled up in front of me. Raising the gun to his face, `` Who paid you to kill me?''
Jennings mutterers something incoherent, I smash the grip of the revolver into those too-white teeth, `` Give me a name!'' He sputters saliva, blood and bits of teeth, `` I surren...''
Before he can finish I point the barrel at his head and pull the trigger painting the wall with his brains. Could n't let him surrender and reactivate the PVP system. Yeah I wo n't get anymore answers from him, but I could n't let him get away. I rummage through his pockets looking for any clues to who hired him. As I go through his pockets, a virtual display pops up showing the doctors contact information from my digital Rolodex. A red stamp appears over his contact information, `` Disconnected.'' I blink and close the display, no need to be reminded. Everyone who had the good Doc in their contacts would be notified.
Removing his wallet, I go though business cards and photos. With a blink, they're added to my digital gallery. I swipe his debit cards and credit cards across my wrist, giving them a scan. I'm sure the doctor has a bank account who's balance will go to his next of kin, but anything on his person is fair game.
I can hear cops outside. I open the office door and yell for them. In a second, the room is swarming with heavily armed police and swat.
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[ WP ] Write about a person getting into an argument that came about from some glaring flaw that they have . Make me feel strongly about the character , but struggle to like or hate them .
| `` Fuckin hell man, you are way too drunk.''
I do n't know who said that. Was that Dennis? Does Dennis have a beard? Fuck it, does n't matter.
I enter the kitchen and, whoops, knocked that girls drink out of her hand. Meh, does n't matter. Someone will clean that up. I did n't spill my drinks so that's what matters!
There's that blonde girl. Waiting for me by the fridge like she said she would! Shit what was her name again?
`` Ta-da! I told you I'd get them!''
I present her with the pair of vodka shots I had just snuck from a bottle in the living room. She smiled at me. Fuck she is hot!
`` I always had complete and total faith in you my sir!'' She slurred, poking at my chest and pushing herself back against the fridge. God that sounded dumb. What a stupid thing to say. Oh well.
`` Bottoms up!''
We both downed the shots. Fuck, that burns.
Now we're talking about some shit. She wo n't shut up about her friend. Just smile and nod. God, I'd love to shove my cock in her mouth to shut her up.
`` Dude! Did you take my vodka?''
Oh its Bill. He seems pissed off. Just play dumb.
`` Dennis said he saw you sneak some from my bag! Why do you always do this shit man?''
Fucking Dennis! What a little bitch! I know, I'll just smile and shrug my shoulders. If I do n't say anything he ca n't accuse me of lying.
`` Fuck you man! You know, if you had asked, I'd have given you some! You're a shitting fucking friend!''
There he goes, off in a huff. Should I say something witty while he storms away? Nah, hes already gone.
`` What was that about?''
The blonde girl is laughing. Good, Bill did n't ruin things for me. Meh, he'll forgive me tomorrow, he always forgives me.
Now were making out! How did that happen? Shit I do n't even remember kissing her! And were in an empty bedroom!
She just collapsed backwards on the bed. Was that on purpose or did she trip? I'll just take off these pants.
Wait is she... is she asleep? No, shes still mumbling. Ah crap she is really drunk. Am I gon na be one of these guys who rapes a girl at a party? Its consentual but she could probably say its rape if she wanted to. Shit she looks hot though...... fuck...
`` Come onn....erg..baebye....fuuuuck meeeee....''
Shes fucked. She probably does n't even remember my name. Shes gon na wake up tomorrow and probably freak the fuck out when she sees me beside her.
Oh wait, she's asleep.
Probably for the best, I probably would n't have gotten it up anyway.
Fuck this noise, I'm outta here. Everyone else is already gone or passed out. Where the fuck is Bill gone? Why the hell was he so angry at me earlier?
Shit I feel bad. I must have really pissed him off. I'll ring him and apologize.
Shit, no answer, I'll quickly leave a message.
`` Hey....Bill. Uh....sorry about tonight man. I know you we're really pissed off at me. Uh... I... do n't, exactly recall whyyyyy. But.....I'm sorry. You're my best friend and... I fucking love you and....I'm really sorry man and like....I almost got with this hot chick but, she was really drunk so, I figured I'd better not. You know? Sorry man, I'm such an asshole. I love you alright? I'll talk to you tomorrow O.K? Bye bye, bye, bye, bye.....bye.''
That will do. Now where did I put my car keys?
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Create a Batman villain and write about their first psychiatric assessment [ EU ]
| **The Advocate. **
His expression was calm as the Arkham Asylum attendants led him into the room. No shouting, no manhandling. The soles of his black brogues made little noise on the linoleum. As a very dear friend of mine once told me, *you can tell a lot about a man from his shoes. * He was still in street clothes, a concession sometimes awarded to inmates as a reward for good behaviour, and he wore a charcoal grey suit, with a tie, loosely tied.
“ Please, ” I extended my hand to him. “ Have a seat. ”
He hesitated a moment before he took my hand. Was that fear I saw in his eyes, or something else? “ Dr Quinn, ” he said, shaking my hand before taking his seat opposite me. “ It ’ s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. ”
“ Likewise, ah- ” I consulted my notes. “ Mr Doors. Or may I call you Nathan? ”
He smiled easily. I made a note. “ Nate is fine, Dr Quinn, ” he said.
I nodded. “ So, Nate, ” I said. “ What brings you to Arkham Asylum? Not the decor, surely. ”
“ It ’ s a good question, ” he said. “ I think that, for the most part, it is my sense of justice. ”
“ Justice? ” I raised an eyebrow.
I got a lot of nutcases in here, sure, but few of them, if any, still spouted anything about *justice*. I find that, when someone gets that detached from reality, that they ’ re so bad they send them to Arkham, they ’ ve generally abandoned traditional notions of morality altogether, or they have enough self-awareness to admit that they existed outside of them. Perhaps he had broken completely. I made a note; *hero complex? *
Nate gave a small sigh. “ It ’ s not that I condone the actions of anyone in here, ” he said. “ But for the actions of one man, one *vigilante*, to imprison you against your will, that strikes me as unjust. A breach of your human rights. And as I said, ” he smiled. “ I ’ m all about justice. ”
“ One man? ” I pushed him. “ I ’ d be the first to agree that the actions of the Batman are questionable at best, but the patients here are held on behalf of the state. ”
To my surprise, Nate shook his head, pulling an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket. “ No, ” he said. “ They ’ re not. Arkham Asylum is a privately run institution, Dr Quinn. Do you know who owns it? ”
I shook my head, frowning.
“ The *Wayne Foundation*, Dr Quinn. ” Nate slammed the paper down on the table, showing me the letterhead. I swallowed. “ A *privately owned corporation*, locking away *American* citizens. *Imprisoning* them, without trial, without proper judicial oversight. A privately owned corporation, ” he growled. “ Run by one man. ”
“ Mr Wayne? ” I felt myself protest. “ Mr Wayne is a good man, Nate. ” *He has issues, sure, but that doesn ’ t make him bad. *
“ Does it matter? ” asked Nate. “ How *good* a man he is? Does that give him the right to decide people ’ s lives? To play God in Gotham, using his money to carve out a sweet little model city by sweeping the people here under the rug? Can you defend that? ”
I paused, frowning. “ I suppose not. ”
Nate nodded, looking pleased. “ I have written letters to the Wayne Foundation, threatening to launch a class action lawsuit on behalf of those wrongfully imprisoned here. It'll expose this place to the worldfor the abomination it is, ” he said. “ They ’ ll try to counter-offer, of course, try to buy me off, and then I ’ ll ask for what I really want. ”
“ And what ’ s that? ” I asked.
He smiled again, the same easy, self-confident smile. It scared me a little. “ Early release, ” he said, spreading his hands. “ For all those wrongfully imprisoned. ”
“ Nate, ” I said. “ Why are you telling me this? Arkham Asylum is my *employer*. ”
He looked at me then, with something like pity, something like Mr J used to look at me, when I was broken and useless. “ No, ” said Nate. “ You ’ re not working here any more, Dr Quinn. You ’ re an inmate. ”
-- -
“ I ’ ll see you on the other side, ” he said as he left, white-clad attendants flanking him.
I made my final notes; *narcissistic tendencies, possible psychotic break. Test for ASD. Recommend group therapy. Increase Diazepam dose to 100mg daily. *
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[ WP ] Lightning is extremely rare , but when it does strike , it always hits people .
| The training had been brutal. Four hours a week of eye tests- we had to put on goggles that showed tiny hints of shades of grey on a sunny background. We had the press the button whenever we saw grey. Half of the recruits failed to get the percentage of accuracy needed. We all understood why, of course. We were the first line of defense- we had to be able to see the threat coming miles before it came into range. But still, it was stressful to say the least.
Then came the physical training. Every day we had lung practice. We would hold our breath underwater for at least two and a half minutes. We then had to blow into a machine to test our diaphragm strength- if a code yellow came up it was still our job to blow on the whistles to save lives. Why we did n't have more advanced warning systems, was still odd to me. But who was I to question.
It may have just been a summer job. But against the lightning, it was no joke.
We were the few, the proud. The elite. The pool lifeguards.
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[ WP ] A teenager comes home from school to realize that the backpack he brought home with him is most definitely NOT his . Upon sorting through the contents of the backpack , he finds three objects : something terrifying , something awesome , and something he did n't even know existed ...
| *Fuck School was annoying today. * The stereotypical teenager, James, had just come back from school. He'd had a bad day, the girl he asked out rejected him, he failed two exams in Math and English, and he'd stepped in dog shit.
*The fuck, this is n't my bag. * He thought, as he opened the bright blue bag he'd brought with him to his home. The sign on the inside indicated the name'Joe'. *Fucking Joe? Really? The asshole that gropes every girl he sees? Fuck, now i have to bring it to his fucking house. *
Prior to this day, Joe had repeatedly wet-willied James, the act completely disgusting as it may be, provided plenty of entertainment to the bully. Joe had also flipped over all of James' possessions to the floor, and then poured water over them. *Fuck that guy, man, i wish i'd have stood up for myself, stupid Zero-Tolerance... *
James left the bag, and went to his computer to browse reddit for six hours. *Shit, i have a history exam tomorrow. Eh, i'll study after this story. *
James continued to sift through stories on /r/WritingPrompts, when he found a post titled' [ WP ] A teenager comes home from school to realize that the backpack he brought home with him is most definitely NOT his. Upon sorting through the contents of the backpack, he finds three objects: something terrifying, something awesome, and something he did n't even know existed...' *Huh, weird coincidence. *
However, James' curiosity towards the bag quickly took hold of him, and he began sifting through it's contents.
James pulled up a Black Shirt from inside. *A Three Wolf Moon shirt? Fucking awesome. *
Curious as to what's next, he pulled out something plastic. It was pink at first glance. When he pulled it out completely, he was, for a lack of a better word, terrified. *A fucking dildo?! This is some sick shit man... *
The last objects that were not Student Books were the most intriguing. He could n't figure out what they were at first glance, but after googling them for a bit, as well as successfully translating the note from Gibberish-English to English, he grew even more concerned with his findings.
He'd found out that the *tools* were for slightly kinkier sex. The note yielded worse results.
A sexual fantasy between himself and Joe. *What the fuck. *
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[ WP ] You are a character in another person 's dream .
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( NSFW )
`` I think therefore I am.'' It was something that one guy, the cart something or other, said about duality. Jessica felt as though she was dreaming, lying in an unfamiliar room, crisp cream colored sheets pulled below her cleavage.
Her breasts looked larger than normal. They felt more even as well. She was running her hands over them when she saw Mark, the guy who sat behind her in communications class and who had made one solitary failed attempt at hitting on her, standing at the foot of the bed. Naked. She gasped.
What the hell was he doing here? In her dream? It was beginning to feel a lot more like a nightmare.
`` What the fuck.. Next please,'' she said aloud. Indifferent to hurting the feelings of the figment of imagination before her.
`` Ouch.'' He said before laughing carelessly. `` Even in my dreams it does n't work out huh?''
Jessica blinked, thoughts racing through her agitated head. `` What the fuck are you talking about? I'm here! I'm real! It's my dream..''
`` Oh is it now?'' Mark began to sit down on the bed, one leg dangling over the edge, the other stretched out toward her. His penis was laying against his thigh, his balls pressed against the matress.
`` If it's your dream,'' he continued, `` how come you ca n't wake up?''
Jessica wanted to yell at him for how rude, cocky, and naked he was, and for how often his eyes would go down to her cleavage and her curves below the sheets. Then she considered the question. She tried to wake up. She tried harder. She was beginning to get a headache.
The horror started to set in. That she was an unwilling participant in this guy's fantasy. A thought came to her.
`` If it's your dream,'' she said accusingly, `` and you know it, then why are n't you waking up?''
`` I'm a lucid dreamer,'' he said as if he deserved a medal for the accomplishment, `` so I can stay in my dreams and manipulate them how I like.''
`` So you like to dream about trying to fuck someone who thinks you're a disgusting creep?'' Jessica might as well have fun tormenting the guy for having such terrible audacity. There was no way she was sleeping with him. That was for sure.
Mark thought a bit before answering. `` I guess I was just thinking about what a stuck up bitch you are more than how much I'd like to... you know.'' Mark started stretching his arms behind his neck and smiling. `` But do n't worry I'm a lucid dreamer, circumstances will be different in a minute.''
`` Ugh. Disgusting.'' Jessica felt like puking. `` But you ca n't do this! I'm a real person. I am Jessica. You ca n't just do what you want!''
`` You're not really Jessica.''
`` Pardon me?!'' Her fists clenched around the sheets. She was ready to throw her fists at his smug face.
`` What's your mom's name?''
Jessica did n't know. She could n't even imagine what she looked like. She was beginning to realize she was just the product of some sick hate-fuck fantasy where she was the object. The spiteful bitch. She was n't even Jessica. She was a caricature of a person.
`` Do n't do this!'' She found herself pleading to her own surprise, `` please, I may not be Jessica but I'm here right now. I feel things. I'm experiencing things right now.'' She looked at her own hands and felt hot tears welling in her eyes, `` I know it's a dream but I'm scared. Please!''
Mark was pretty astonished that his mind had engineered such a philosophical conundrum. Was it ethical to do this? He was dreaming but what if his dreams were real in their own way? Each with their own little universes and conscious characters. Was this the kind of man he wanted to be?
He thought about it a minute longer, but he was pretty horny.
`` Do n't worry,'' he placed his hand on where he guessed her leg was under the sheets, `` You wo n't be scared.''
Jessica looked into his eyes. They looked concerned but she felt nothing but hate. She was about to scream but her head was suddenly filled with ideas of how sexy he was, with how much she wanted him, with what she wanted him to do to her. She sat up and let the sheets fall gently off of her body.
|
[ WP ] Babies are born with the intelligence of adults , but become increasingly childish as they grow older .
| Lina found her father looking through the old family photo album in the guest bedroom. `` What'd you find there, Dad?'' He looked up at her with big eyes and a limp frown. `` Pictures of me when I was little.'' She crawled over and leaned herself up against the bed to support her head. She looked up at her father with a smile, entertained by his innocence. She followed his eyes back to the photos. They showed a little boy, maybe 6, at a piano with his eyes closed, appearing lost in whatever transcendent sonata that was now but a distant echo. Another showed the same boy with another around his age as they drew equations on a large chalkboard. The incomprehensible symbols proved theorems and smashed others to pieces and covered the wall of what one would call a classroom if the fifty odd toddler graduate students had been in frame. A third depicted the boy with a girl, his sister, on either side of an older woman who held a plastic gold trophy for runner-up at a spelling bee beneath a broad smile. Lina had never experienced these moments, but her father had. She saw in his eyes the memories flow and collide and burst and collapse as he darted from photo to photo and turned page after page.
`` Lina,'' he said without taking his eyes off the pictures.
`` Ya Dad?''
`` Was I good at piano when I was little?''
`` Well I'm not old enough to remember that now... Jamie was. You're little brother tells me stories about how you played for whole stadiums of concertgoers.''
Her father's eyes got big and his smile grew. `` Really?''
`` Oh ya. They said the crowds used to through their bottles in the air after they heard you play Chopin. Jaime even told me one girl through her diaper on the stage! You were quite the ladies' man you know.''
Her father giggled and turned away, embarrassed. He looked back toward the photos and started to yawn but stopped himself. Lina sensed it was nap time.
`` Dad, you about ready for a nap?''
`` No. Come on I'm not tired. Can I look at the pictures a little more?''
`` Okay, you can look at the rest of the pictures. If you need anything I'll be in the kitchen okay?'' Her father dismissed her and she crawled out, grabbing her bottle and a Tolstoy from the shelve to read while she made dinner.
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[ EU ] A Matrix Prequel where Neo keeps choosing the blue pill over and over again and Morpheus keeps going back with a new argument for the red pill ( x-post /r/crazyideas )
| `` You are aware of life, but do you truly *live*? The question and its answer are not as dissimilar as you suppose.''
Anderson looked to his right. Damn it - this guy again. He'd just taken the seat next to him in the cab.
For the love of crap.
`` What if I told you - ``
`` No.'' Anderson signaled to the driver and hopped out.
-- -
Good old late-night TV. Another infomercial for a food processor. I could always process more food, Anderson thought.
`` But do n't just take our word about the awesome power of the Choppinator 5000: here are satisfied customers just like you!''
He dropped the remote as the infomercial star-wiped to a bald black man in dark shades and a trench coat talking directly into the camera.
`` The pursuit of material goods, the willingness to substitute them for *true* consciousness - these are symptomatic of a refusal to question, a stubborn insistence upon continuing in a suspect existence simply because interrogation is difficult. In your left hand is a blue pill, and in your right hand a red pill. Choose the blue, and you will continue as you have, numb in your ignorance. Choose the red, and the veil will be torn, and you will witness the awesome truth of reality.''
Sure enough - left hand blue, right hand red. Anderson had questions, and since he was reasonably sure he'd lost his grip on sanity anyhow, he addressed them to the TV.
`` So... blue is ignorance?''
`` Yes.''
`` How?''
`` You will continue in your life just as you have. You will suffer a thousand deaths daily as you struggle through an inauthentic and unfulfilling life.''
``... and red is truth?''
`` Yes. The false comforts of your world will vanish, but both the good and the bad will be *true*, and you will live more fully.''
`` So I get to keep my stuff if I take the blue?''
`` You never had it to begin with - your'stuff' is an illusion, a fabrication, a - ``
`` Yeah, I took the blue pill.''
`` Damn it.''
-- -
It had been forever since Anderson had a date. He picked a decent little place - the food was good, the wine was okay. His date arrived - tall, leggy, athletic, a great catch - and he flagged her over, pulled her chair out for her.
Once they got settled, he scanned through the menu. `` So, uh - appetizers. What are you feeling - shrimp, maybe?'' No response, though. He put the menu down and -
`` Shit! You - what the f-''
The bald trench-coated black man in shades held out two pills.
`` You feel what philosophers have always known - the transience of existence and of connection. You feel only what *they* want you to feel. Your mind is ensnared in a trap as wide as the world. And the only way out'' - he held out his right hand - `` is the red pill.''
Anderson wiped the sweat off his forehead and slammed his palm down on the table.
`` I - I just - I ca n't even - what. Why? How did you even - ``
`` The question is not'why,' but'how,' and even then the real question is'where.'''
``... that makes no damned sense. Like, not even a little bit, I'm serious.''
`` And why should it, Neo? Ask the bee to describe a home that is not the hive. Ask the ant to imagine a house.''
The manager had arrived to politely ask just what the hell was going on. Anderson asked for a water.
`` Even the water is not what you suppose it to be, Neo.''
`` Yeah, it's Tom. My name's Tom. So, if you actually *know* that chick, could you give me her real number so we could, you know - ``
`` It is telling that you think there was a'chick,' Neo. She does not exist in this world.''
Anderson put his elbow on the table and his head in his hand. `` Uh huh.'' He flagged his waitress. `` Hey, could you get me a phone book and a quarter? I need to call the mental hospital.''
`` The only treatment you require is the salve of reality.''
`` I ca n't even - look, enough with that shit. So you're telling me the girl is fake?''
`` She does not live in this world, no.''
`` Does she'live' in some other world?''
`` Yes.''
Anderson sat up and leaned forward. `` Yeah? How can I get with her?''
Morpheus adjusted his shades, cleared his throat.
`` There is... a *chance* she may reciprocate your attempt at courtship, *if* you take the red pill.''
Anderson looked at him, then leaned back, shook his head, and laughed.
`` Bullshit.''
`` No, Neo - your only hope of forming real human relationships is to take the red pill. Only once your preconceptions have been stripped away - ``
`` Yeah, I took the blue.''
`` Damn it all to hell.'' He got up turned toward the door, his trench coat billowing behind him. Anderson ordered a little meal for one and ate it alone.
|
[ WP ] Two kids were born with a single consciousness continents apart . Only one can be awake at a time .
| He crested the snow-capped peak and descended sharply down into the wooded valley. He was flying so close to the ground that he could smell the pine trees, feel the briskness of the winter wind lapping at his face. He banked sharp to the right narrowly missing a leaning sapling, twisted his body 180 degrees and began to ascend quickly. This was his favorite part of flying, the escape. As he rose into the sky, passing through clouds and warm updrafts he stopped suddenly. There was a moment of weightlessness, complete silence and stillness, then, he began to fall. Eyes closed he let his body go limp, his arms swaying at his sides like ribbons on a streamer. The speed of his free-fall seemed never-ending as he opened his eyes to find the world rushing towards him. He rolled over off his back so the wind was now hitting his face and chest directly and with only inches to spare he pulled up, his fingers grazing the long, wild grass beneath him, his speed increasing. He knew what was happening but he didn ’ t care. He knew at any moment he could be pulled from this world back into his mundane reality. For these fleeting moments he was exactly where he wanted to be. Alone. Free. As he cut between two large trees and began to gain even more speed he closed his eyes and whispered quietly, “ thank you. ”
“ Wan na head in in? ” the boy ’ s friend asked. Over 3000 miles away two friends had just finished a ski run through the back bowls of the Colorado Rockies. The winter had been one of the best in recent memory and the two boys were nearing the end of a long day hiking the mountain for fresh tracks. As dusk began to creep closer the older of the two looked to the clouds above and felt the warm sweat from his cheeks run down his wind-chapped lips and onto his jacket collar. The air was crisp and there was a serenity in the secluded back canyons.
“ Hey! It ’ s almost dark, we should head back man, ” his friend persisted.
“ Yeah, ” answered the boy as he opened his eyes. “ But let ’ s do one more run and we ’ ll call it a day. ” As the sun began its gradual fall behind the dusted peaks that tore into the skyline a smile crept onto the boy ’ s face beneath his jacket, “ have fun up there buddy. ”
|
[ WP ] ... and that ’ s where half-breeds come from
| Zeke Adams, Pizza Hut delivery boy, rang the doorbell and took a step back. He looked over the house as he waited. No, he thought, house is n't the right word. Perhaps sty or pen would be better.
The building was one story and made of wood, unpainted of course, with chunks missing in the walls. Zeke opened the box and looked at the pizza, a habit of his when he had to wait long periods at the front door. He rang it again, then knocked twice.
A voice answered his knocks, sounding angry. A woman. Zeke swallowed and looked around. The house was in the middle of a forest, first one he'd seen around these parts. If it were n't for MapQuest on his phone, he would have never found the place.
The door opened and a blue-skinned woman stood there. She had nothing on, save a loincloth. She smiled a set of sharpened teeth and grabbed him by the collar.
|
[ WP ] Jane , at age of 10 , tries to trick people into giving her money to support her Heroin addicted mother .
| The green hat misses the badge and the sash she cut from a green t-shirt shows signs drawn on it in black sharpie. But overall looking at her self in the mirror while twitching her eyes together it seemed close enough to the girl scout images on google search.
`` People will get it. Do n't you think mom? Mom look?''
A thin figure appeared in the door and sank on it's frame. An arm hanging down numb with a small line of blood streaming down.
`` Get me more... Please, will you get me more...''
A crackling voice pushed out of the gray face. The girl in front of the mirror tilted her head, put up a distorted smile and danced to what seamed to be her mother.
`` O mommy. Did you sting your self again... Let me clean that...''
She grabbed the now trembling arm, and despite being a third shorter than her mom she managed to fixate it, as she had to do so often before. She pulled a hankie out of her pocket, whipped away the blood and pressed it on the bleeding dot for a while.
`` Did n't we agree that you wo n't do this your self anymore?'' she chirped in a odd happy sound as if she wanted to awake some last peace of life in the drifting mind.
The other arm of the mother swung around, grabbed her by the hair, pulled back her little head and shouted. `` You fucking bring me more. I tell you. I do it my self. But you fucking better bring me more...''
The girl swung her self out of the grip with a pain full grimace and only a kick to her leg made her finally let go. A sob grew in her little facade and some little tears started to wet her eyes. But no she wont cry. Jane suppressed it by repeatedly slamming her hand against her leg, a tick she seamed to have more often.
`` And now what?'' the motehr started all over.
But not this time, she did n't want to hear anything more. Jane grabbed the cardboard box filled with small paper packages. She packed those which cookies her self, the cookies she collected from the food bank over two weeks.
And of she went to sell them from door to door in the local retirement housing as she was used to. With every tour she got a little better. Not choosing the same houses all everytime if they started to remember her. Telling different additional stories to get some extra tip or even trying to convince them of crazy prices as everything became more expensive these days...
Meanwhile she even learned how to convince most nurses or even relatives of her story. She always started with very view words, looking inside the apartment, trying to understand the situation and feel the if a customer was aware or not. Based on that she had tailored stories matching every case. Once she even came back with a empty box crying like a baby about how she lost them all and how the older scouts would beat her up for that - only to double the amount in one go.
But this time her mother would n't get the good stuff. Not if she ripped her by the hair. That was the rule. If her mother was nice, she got the good stuff and enough of it. If she was mean she would get the cheapest stuff her dealer had. Jan would just turn up the TV not to see her bend in pane, not seeing the spasm after taking the bad stuff. But that's what you get if your mean to Jane, do n't be mean to her.
This also meant that more money went into Janes own hidden `` College Fund'' as she called it - knowing that she would most probably never go to a college but just fake her certificates - but anyway, that was her treasure. And today there will be a nice stack going into it, because today will get the stuff not even her dealer sells, she will get the stuff only other addicts sell...
|
[ TT ] A man creates the first artificial consciousness , treats it as his child , loves it and it loves him , and finally passes away of old age . The AI is psychologically unable to cope with his passing and its mental condition begins to deteriorate ...
| It had been twenty long years since jim had died.for twenty years charles had tried to forget the night when jim was killed.he only found purpose in finishing his lifelong dream.
A note on charles desk wrote'' the superiorly organised nazotron ( son ) passes all the basic functionality tests.we should begin upload of congnitive and emotional response in to the nexus.''
Charles approached the dark and cold nexus room where all the programming for the son was handled.charles quickly grabed a datasheet disk labled cognitive and emotional response programming and uploaded it in to the mainframe of the nexus.
The nexus quickly absorbs all the raw data from the disk. Charles turned on the central terminal inside the nexus room.
`` son! son! can you hear me
`` yes i hear you charles''.
`` Could you conform if emotional responses are functioning properly''.
`` Command accepted emotional responses acknowleged''.
`` Commence emotional response test now son!''
`` ERT now running charles estimated time 24 hours''
For a day charles sat in the nexus room without blinking, without moving an inch from his seat.He patiently watched those digits crawl all over the screen.
`` ERT test finished charles.now commencing system reboot.''
The entire nexus room went dark and when it came back the sound of the son was that of a child.
`` charles i understand all emotions perfectly now except a few''
`` its about life? You see charles all the species on this planet are born.and me i am not born, i simply exist.''
`` you dont exist i made you son.''
`` so that makes you my dad.''
`` There is another one, death which i do not yet understand.''
`` death occures when one's purpose in life is finally achieved.its simple let me show you''
Charles reached into his pocket and took out a syringe he was carrying with him and injected it the arm.
`` witness it now.''
Dad! Dad! Daaad!
Shouts of a young child roared all around that empty facility the whole night.
|
[ WP ] You are a daffodil . A poet spends a whole day by your side - and finally leans to pluck you .
| Oh look at him, flouncing along with that stupid blond quiff, not a care in his damn head. Yeah, you keep trying to work out what rhymes with `` succinct'' you damn menace. Yeah I know it's `` sunny'' and you find that `` funny'' I bet the teenage train wreck you're writing this for is going to love `` ca n't let this pass/ a day with you on the grass''. You want to get on some grass but it is n't where I'm planted. God I wish you would n't sit so close to me. No daffodils are n't goddamn romantic and you keep your hands to yourself, my father was plucked by one of you types. He was a rose and he was a fine man until a'poet' came and ripped him from the ground. I swear you'romantic' types, `` here a bunch of corpses from the garden now lets go pollinate.'' You've got my best friend in a vase in your goddamn window like you're hanging him in front of me. I'm next are n't I. Well go on, pluck me. Pluck me I dare you, I'm ready for you, barbarian. You can take me, but you can not take my spirit.
I am a proud flower to the end, you murderer.
|
[ WP ] College graduation is over , and your parents present you with an itemized bill for raising you - several hundred thousand dollars . They want to work out a payment plan .
| `` Ha ha. You're so not serious. I know you love me.''
`` Oh! Thank you, darling, I'll pencil that in.'Love, 20 e per day, for the duration, minus 23 days.''
`` Mom, what -- -''
`` Your birthdays, darling. On them the love is free.''
`` Mom!''
`` This is for me, you understand. Dad does n't do emotion, as you know; we decided two loving parents would be a bit much. Dad instead, well, you see this here -- -''
`` What?'Role model, 25 e per day'? What do you mean, role -- -''
`` Oh, it was difficult. All the things he -- - we -- - had to hide from you. All the horrible, horrible things. But now blind meat's back on the menu!''
`` MOM!''
`` Back on the public menu, I should rather say. But no matter, do n't worry about that, you've grown into a fine, upstanding young man we're proud of and happy with. Not like that Wilson brat; Mohammed and Marilyn're never going to get their money back. I told them, take the hippie insurance, but they were so certain they could raise him right. I and Pa, we were much more careful, darling; we would have been okay if you'd become a drug-using murder hobo, or even a math major. But it never came to that, and we're so proud of you for not running with the wrong crowds.''
`` I -- - whuh -- - wah?''
`` But the payment plan. See, here's your widdle handprint, and our signatures as your legal guardians -- - it's all perfectly aboveboard. You can settle with salary withdrawals, internal organs, or sexual services.''
`` Mom, you're kidding, right?''
`` Sometimes I wonder if Pa paid for your grades too. You know I never joke about big money, darling, and raising you was n't cheap. It's so important that a boy has a girlfriend, but after that biting incident we really had to pay through the nose for Susan. See this item? The gall of that girl! Then she would n't, well, you know. We were so happy that Patricia was cheaper, and more... negotiable... with her affections. But pish, that's all in the bill, darling. Now get your ass to work, I have to pick up your brothers.''
|
[ WP ] You dig up a time capsule only to discover that the time it comes from is not the past .
| `` I was digging out my backyard, if you must know. The neighbors had this awful bamboo. It kinda just grew everywhere, all the time. Was n't any use to them, it did n't really provide any shade. But hey, a job's a job, and money's money. Eventually they got annoyed enough at their own stupidity that they paid me to remove all of it.
I was planning on taking all of it and driving out to the marina with my friends, and making a funeral pyre. Greg's dog had died yesterday, so we were gon na honor him, Viking style. God, Juno was just the best. I do n't like dogs, I swear they're the most needy sons of bitches you'd ever met, but Juno was special. Everyone liked him. No, really, I mean it, I'd bet you all the money I've made digging out bamboo that there is n't a single person in the world who wouldn't've liked Juno. He was just so sweet, he loved everyone all the time. He never asked for nothin', either. He just sat there and went on liking everyone for no goddamn reason at all.
Greg was really torn up when he passed. We all were, really. The doctors had said the tumor would probably hemorrhage at some point, but we never expected a DUI to take him out. Stupid and pointless. Alcohol should n't even be a thing, I swear. If I were to ever become President, I would probably ban alcohol. But then again, that's what started the Recession in the 1920's. That and woman's voting rights. Damn, politics are complicated. Take away something as insignificant as alcohol and the whole structure just collapses.
Bet you did n't think I knew about the Great Depression, huh? Damn straight I do. I'm a bit of a History buff, if I do say so myself. I just do n't really know what to say most of the time. I'm a bit awkward, to be honest. I act all tough and all, but I do n't even really like sports. I mean, I'm pretty good at lacrosse, and I'm on the team, but every time I put on that helmet it makes me feel queasy.
Shit, what was I even talking about? My memory is n't that great anymore, sorry about that. I can get a bit distractable. Is that even a word? Dis-tract-ah-bull.
I do n't even know if that's a word. I'll just look it up later, I guess.
God damn, what was I saying? Ever since I dug up that capsule in the backyard, I've been really... preoccupied, I guess. I mean, what the hell are you supposed to do?
I guess that's the story I was telling. About the capsule n' all.
So there I was, digging out my backyard. I had finished with the neighbors, but bamboo is a total bitch of a weed. No, really, it spreads like a wildfire. It grew everywhere, I swear to you it was in everyone's backyard down the whole block.
I had this shovel, right, but I was n't really using it because the bamboo was so close together. I kind of just pulled it out of the ground and the used a spade to hack the roots to little bits so it did n't grow back. Come to think of it, I do n't even think bamboo has roots. I was probably murdering what was left of my mom's garden. It was stupid anyway. Whatever.
I was almost finished, and when I got to the far corner of the backyard, I spent an extra long time hacking up the roots, just to make sure they would n't grow back. Plus, I was running down the clock- I almost had an extra hour, and if I ran down the clock for long enough, I would get more money. I'm not even sure what to spend the money on. I think I was going to get some materials to make an air compressed cannon, because ball valves are expensive as hell, and I already have all the necessary tools to make the cuts and such, but it does n't seem that important anymore. I dunno, I guess. I just do n't know.
I was really going at it, too. The hacking, I mean. I was just chopping that bamboo to *pieces, * I swear to you. But then I hit something. There was this sort of a clang, and the spade sparked and flew out of my hand. It sure as hell was n't a root. So I kind of dug around the object with my hands until I could pull it out.
I was holding this box, I think. It was gunmetal gray, and it looked sort of like those ammo boxes that you get at army reserve stores, but it was way smaller. It was n't rusted at all, and there was n't a single dent in it. I wanted to know what was inside, but I thought it might have been a septic tank or something like that. Or maybe it was private, I dunno. It just felt wrong to open it then, so I brought it inside and put it on my desk. I guess I was confident it was n't a septic tank by then, because my desk is right next to my bed, and I sure as hell do n't want a septic tank next to my bed.
I made around sixty bucks that day, I think. I do n't really remember to be honest. I do n't even remember what I had for dinner that night, which is weird, because I'm usually the one that cooks in the family. I guess everything else that's happened is taking up the brain space I usually keep for useless facts. Funny, never thought I would say that. I always prefer factoids to facts, because then you get this awesome breadth of knowledge that can make you seem way smarter than you really are.
I guess a lot of things about me are a lie. Never really thought about that before today. I just... there are so many things that I do that I hate but pretend to like, or that I love but pretend to be annoyed at.
I said before that I hate alcohol, and that I think it's the worst substance on the planet. Well, maybe not those exact words, but you get the idea. Guess what? I'm the heaviest drinker in my social circles. No, really. One time I played beer pong three times in half an hour. Not sure what it is about me that makes this true, but I just do n't really get hung over that bad. Maybe it's cause I drink a lot of water while I'm getting drunk. Did you know that the headache during a hangover is actually just as much from dehydration as it is from the mini-withdrawal you get from the alcohol? There's a factoid for you. At least that one is n't useless.''
______________________
Hope you enjoyed the story! If you're actually interested in the rest, I can post part two ( that'll wrap up the story ) tomorrow, once I write it. If not, no worries! The writing style is a new thing I'm testing out, not sure if I like the stream-of-consciousness type writing or not. We'll see!
|
[ WP ] Characters realize they are in a poorly written fanfiction .
| I do n't know when I first realized that my entire life was a sham. It might have been when I had a far too intimate moment with Donkey, or when Fiona and Mr. Gingerbread had a weird milk-dunking bdsm scene. It was extremely out of context from what I am used to in a good story. Yes, i know I am a storybook character. I have known my entire life that we were the happy inhabitants of a book. What I did not know until I became older is that I was not in the tale we have all come to know and love as `` Shrek'' ( yes we have book stores IN books, do n't ask so many questions, it gets complicated ) but I was in fact a part of a sucky kinky Shrek sex-fiction with a minor story plot and sexual innuendos out the wazoo.
I never'grew up' because I was in a sense'born' the way I would be represented in the tale. Therefore the sexual activities of my -- -- should I go so far as to call it a `` book'' -- - were never considered weird or inappropriate. We were who we were. Now I knew I told you to lay off the questions, but I will answer this one... `` Well hey Shrex ( my horrendous nickname in this hell hole I get to call life ) HOW did you find out that everything was a sham if you were made to find this all normal?''
Well, dear reader, I can have sex without enjoying it. And after having some regrettable sex with no good reason behind it, I began to question how this tale, that we were ALL told was a children's classic, could contain so much sex, and loveless sex at that. I have tried to tell Fiona about it, but she just laughs and tries to give me a BJ. I have no way of running away from my life, I know that, but I really come to you with a heed of warning... If you are going to write a story, please, make it a good one for goodness sakes, you never know when your characters will come to life and fucking hate you forever for it. That is all.
Sincerely,
-Shrex iv: Return of the Milkman
|
[ WP ] You were born with a birth mark the shape of a `` 9 '' on your wrist , one day you get in a fatal car accident . You wake up in a strange room and the first thing you notice is the 9 has changed to an 8
| My father bawled on the floor, unaware that his tears echoed through the room. I wanted to console him, tell him he ’ s worrying too much, that it ’ s all going to be all right, but somehow I knew that nothing I said would make any sense to him. No matter how much I reached out for his hand and tried to lend him some of my strength, no matter how much I smiled to give him some of my happiness, he would never understand. Somehow, he had to overcome this on his own. Oh how I wished my mother were here to hold him, tell him the world was still beautiful, that everything will be all right.. I knew her for mere seconds, but I knew she would have held him, given him the strength he needed to carry on, her beautiful song-like voice giving him courage to face the unknown and the unspeakable, her wisdom giving him solace in the times ahead..
But dreams are dreams, and the world never turns to our whims. My mother died in childbirth two months ago, and the mark on my wrist gained a new scar.
|
[ WP ] They 've just invented a 500,000 frame per second video camera . The problem is that they 've found something unexpected at those speeds
| Dear Diary,
We got our hands on the camera! It took all of our allowances for the past year, some slight theft from careless parents and a scam organized by Zach. Finally we got enough money to get the High Speed Camera of our dreams. It is AWESOME it does 500,000 fps.
We immediately started playing with it. Just doing some basic crap: Slater was throwing water balloons at Jessie, Zach was blowing a hair dryer at Kelly, Lisa shot Paintballs at the wall and I recorded it all.
But then something weird happened, I put it down and forgot to turn it off when we were all just chilling in a circle. I noticed within a minute and turned it off. Later on I watched what we had shot and in that minute it looks like Zach does a time-out signal, then gets up and starts narrating to some invisible person, and then just sits down again. No one reacted to him on the camera and I do n't recall that happening at all. I wish I could hear what he is saying.
What does this mean? Do I just not remember this, it seems a weird thing to not recall. Does Zach have some imaginary friend? I thought I was his best bud, why has n't he talked about this?
I will try to see if I can record it happening again but right now I have to go to bed so I can wake up in the morning on time. Night.
|
[ WP ] The ruling class consists of gangsters , while the lower classes consist of gentlemen , who are planning a revolution . This is the transcript of their meeting .
| `` Please gentlemen, we will call this meeting to order. Secretary, you may start recording.''
As he said this, Lord Halwood glanced over at me from underneath a crashing wave of an eyebrow, and I nodded back to him before returning to my typewriter. I might very well have called him James, for he retained none of the usual hallmarks or privileges of his nobility. His land had been sold, his assets appropriated, his titles made moot and his presence in the social circles of the upper echelons completely irrelevant. Yet he still carried himself with utmost dignity - a straight back, a sharp eye, and a voice so full of conviction it held your collar like a fist. He and the other gentlemen present at the table, sure they were getting on a bit, their tweed jackets betrayed them. But there was not, positively could not, be another group of more dedicated fellows on the Earth.
Lord Halwood continued, `` The first item that I would like to bring to your attention is
the birthday of our dear friend the Baron Geardon. Congratulations, dear fellow.''
At one end of the table, a man with very wide shoulders in a very faded pinstripe suit bowed his head while the room hummed with laudative murmurs and one or two celebratory clappings. Lord Halwood, his itinerary in one hand, waited patiently until the last of the noise had died down before he could continue uninterrupted.
`` Second item I would like to commend our very own Mr. Kirby in assisting the release of several hundreds of horses from the factory stables near Charltanham last Tuesday and ensuring their safe passage to France via the assistance of the French Navy, very well done indeed.''
More murmurs and a rash of clapping broke out this time in the direction of Mr. Kirby, who was a small man in a suit and bowler hat as black as if he'd found work as a chimney sweeper. He appeared to be very proud of himself, and could n't resist proclaiming over the applause, `` Those thugs did n't know what to do with them, too stupid to handle em, too spineless to kill em, so they just locked em up! It was n't right.'' Which brought more murmurs of agreement and a fresh round of applause and a wry smile from Lord Halwood.
`` And third and quite important towards tonights meeting is the report that Mr. Collarby has managed, though not without great difficulty, to obtain a full plan of the annual Rhasatown gathering in Los Angeles. This includes attendance sheets, daily itineraries, names and profiles of attendees and support staff as well as much other useful information as I'm sure you can imagine.''
Suddenly the humour had evaporated from the room and several of the men snapped to attention and leaned forward in their chairs, the leather groaning underneath them. Lord Halwood, as if he could n't help himself, paused for the effect.
`` If I may elaborate to you gentlemen I will remind you that this meeting is the only time of the year when representatives of the Zetaloas, the Yakiads, the Angel Brotherhood, along with the Unified Russian Bratva Council, among others, with certain participants of their own militant wings in particular the MS18'Bloodhunters,' will be in a singular place in order to discuss policy, determine strategy, negotiate deals of a political or economic nature, as well as settling territorial inconsistencies and preparing the yearly official linguistic and symbolic reference material. A copy of the report may be found in front of you, beginning on page eight.
`` Mr. Collarby has suggested in his report that the security surrounding the meeting will be furious, by his reckoning something similar to a dozen beehives surrounding a meeting of its queens. Yet by the nature of the event it remains the greatest opportunity for us as gentlemen in our endeavour to dislodge such tyranny from its place of power. Therefore gentlemen I present the issue to you with an invitation to share your thoughts.''
There were no voices immediately, but all the figures crammed around the table immediately set upon the folders in front of them and the sounds of the reports being examined were as a flock of books taken to wing. A few grunts and coughs of concentration punctuated the flapping, while the light danced from one set of spectacles to another. After a few minutes an old colonel in the Army, Hartley, cleared his throat politely for attention and directed his question at Lord Halwood.
`` Surely the idea of a military engagement is out of the question.''
Halwood affirmed the intuition, `` Surely'' and his colleagues murmured again in agreement. Hartley continued, `` As is the possibility of sabotage?''
Halwood reclined in his armchair, tenting his fingers, considering the notion. `` I do n't believe we should rule that out entirely, as appealing as it is.'' He waited for the nods around the table to confirm this. `` But it is, considering the situation, a highly unlikely prospect.'' Hartley grunted in response and smiled at Halwood for considering his proposal, before his eyes quickly dropped to the report again, searching for a possible opening. Meanwhile, the birthday Baron, Geardon, seemed to be piecing together some semblance of an idea.
`` This report mentions that each government will have its own security detail?''
`` Yes.''
`` Just around the representatives in question or throughout all of Los Angeles?''
`` Our information appears to point towards the latter.''
`` Must be terribly confusing, what?''
`` Yes, one could imagine. It appears that no group is either willing to take full responsibility for the security of the meeting nor are any of the rest of the groups willing to trust another with that responsibility.''
`` Hm. Perhaps we may use this?''
`` It seems to be a sensitive spot, Geardon, certainly. But any suggestions that are as feasible as they aspire to be effective have so far been lacking.''
`` And those might be?''
`` Well for instance, an insurgent assassination of a single leader while attempting to frame it on another faction. Or the attack upon the territory of one faction while again framing it on another. All of the ideas I have heard require too much of our limited resources while at the same time appearing to be just the sort of plan that a group such as ourselves might conjure up. We do n't want to waste this opportunity by provoking a stronger confederation amongst these scourges.''
`` Indeed, indeed. But rather on the contrary I had an idea that I hoped would appear a little more subtle, if you'll indulge me. Perhaps during the meeting we provoke a conflict between the security forces? If we may find some vulnerable point, I believe that tensions will be tight enough that control may break down and a full-scale war could occur. These fellows enjoy the idea of compound interest when it comes to revenge, as it appears.''
`` My dear Geardon, you may have something there. But you understand it is of utmost importance not to have any possible trace back to us nor to any other resistance groups such as the Last Ladies. Even in retrospect none of these mafias should be able to conclude that it was anyone other than their own militia involved. And the rest of the world needs to know that too. They need to not trust the gangs more than the gangs do n't trust each other.''
`` Yes of course, m'Lord. No one is more aware of the fact than I. But already do I recall several major wars initiated by an unknown source. A stray bullet, if you will. The American revolution, for instance -'The Shot Heard Around the World.' Perhaps we may, in this instance, supply this stray bullet?''
`` Certainly a possibility,'' piped up Hartley, `` And so long as it can not be traced back to us, then we might enjoy any effect it may have, large or small.''
Lord Halwood nodded, `` I believe it is a good idea. Thank you, Baron Geardon. Gentlemen I believe we are able to call adjourn to this meeting in order to fully pursue these new possibilities of action. Thank you for your time and I do apologise for the briefness of this meeting. But I believe we have an actionable plan here. I would not dare say there is light at the end of the tunnel, but perhaps I could say that there's a bullet at the end of a barrel, ahaha. Thank you, Secretary, you may stop the recording.''
|
[ WP ] You are about to be the first time traveler in history , in a Universe where WW2 never happened . You go back to 1920 , and save the life of a failed austrian painter ...
| Patient 3206 was one of the most interesting cases to ever come through the ward. He claimed his name was Oscar Groot and his parents were Frank Groot and Annika Robavich. The government had no record of him, no social security number was ever issued to that name and immigration claimed to have never processed an Oscar Groot. He was adamant that was his name and provided a plethora of information to corroborate his story.
When we looked into it, certain things did n't add up. Annika Robavich did exist and he knew the names of her parents and where she was born. He knew her birthday and referred to her as his mother, much like you'd expect a son to do. When I contacted her she told me she did n't have a son and while she once dated a man named Frank Groot, she told me they broke up when Mercedes hired him to work for their smart car company.
She went on to tell me she had always fancied the name Oscar and found his story totally bizarre but eriely familiar, she could n't put her finger on why.
I tracked Frank down in Germany where he was still an engineer at Mercedes. He was married to a woman named Alice and had a daughter. Oscar was correct about where he was born and when. Frank confirmed what Oscar had said and he did recall dating Annika. He just did n't believe he had a son and found it strange that my patient knew so much about him, including where he went to school.
Oscar was wrong about strange things and insisted WE were mistaken. He was sure his father worked for DARPA for many years before leaving and starting an experimental engineering firm. It was clear this guy was n't the child of Annika and Frank but it was n't clear where he came from and why he knew so much about them.
We never found out where Oscar came from but before he became catatonic he wrote a lot in a journal. The journal said he worked alongside his father, Frank, for many years at the firm and they had been researching a way to time travel.
Apparently, he and his father collected art and one of the greatest artists they both loved was an Austrian man who was killed when he was hit by a train shortly after school and only had a few known works considered master pieces.
Oscar wrote that he entered a sensory deprivation tank in an old German laboratory his Father's firm had purchased. The tank had actually been there since the early 1900's, this was important for his theory. Oscar took a combination of drugs and entered the tank concentrating on the great Austrian painter. After several hours he exited the tank only to find that he was in the Laboratory but it was very different. It was 1920.
His travel method did not allow him to bring anything back and he would have to synthesize his drugs to get back. That part was fairly simple and he knew it would n't take very long to get more.
He wanted to make the world a more beautiful place with his discovery. He decided he would keep the last great master from a premature death, he would save hitler.
He found Adolf on a footbridge that passed over train tracks. He spoke to Adolf who was visibly distressed. He was going to kill himself. Oscar told Adolf that his art work was fantastic and he should not dispair. Adolf thanked him and promised to not yet give up. He would lead a good life and make the world a more beautiful place.
Oscar felt he had done a mitzvah and went back to the labratory. He had secured his drug and wanted to travel back to his time. After several hours in the sensory deprivation tank he emerged again believing it had not worked. But he came out and his labratory was n't as he left it. The building was falling down. it looked like it abandoned decades ago.
He asked someone outside what the date was and he had returned to where he meant to. A local man told him that his lab had been hit by a bomb in the war and it was never used again. Mercedes purchased it to use it as a smart car factory as it was expanding.
Oscar really believed this stuff. Everywhere he looked he saw the tragedies he felt responsible for. He thought Hitler went on to join the military and tried to make the world a more beautiful place just as Oscar had made him promise.
Millions died at his hands. Oscar tried to kill himself, that's how he ended up here. Everyone believed he had just had a bad trip. Maybe he did, he just wants it to end now.
|
[ WP ] A person gains the ability to breathe fire after consuming way too much hot sauce .
| We were camping one night, after a barbecue dinner, all of us sat next to the fire, telling jokes and playing around while drinking beer, soon we are all pretty drunk.
We were getting bored was John pulled out a bottle of hot sauce out of his backpack and said `` Let's spin a bottle and whoever the bottle points at have to take a shot of hot sauce!''
`` oh no.'' I told to myself, I can already feel the sauce in my mouth, burning my tongue, but yet we still played.
First spin, it was me, I grabbed the bottle and took a shot, My mouth become hell and I searched for water, there was none.
Second spin, it was me again. I cursed and took a shot again.
third, fourth, fifth, IT WAS ALL ME, I was yelling all the curses I know.
I took the shot, The bottle was empty, I was sweating like a pig, I ca n't feel my mouth at all, but I was happy, I suddenly want to sneeze.
`` ACHOO!''
I peed myself as I found the grass is now on fire.
|
[ WP ] : the world as we know it only has two rules : You own everything that you can carry , and you must carry everything that you own .
| Everyone knew the Rule of Loot, a proposition that has been in place for decades. It was fair to the strong, and unjust to the weak. At least, that's what the weak say.
The Rule of Loot stated that everyone must be able to carry what they own, and own everything they can carry. For example, if you have a cellphone in your pocket, you own it. If you drop it on the floor, it belongs to the first person who picks it up. If you die, your belongings are fair game.
This lead to new advancements in loot-carrying technology. This includes the Loot Compressor from Levitech. It turns all of your belongings into data, and stores them in a personal cloud until taken out. How exciting!
Pop quiz, kiddos! Let's say your friend, Tommy, dropped his lunch money because he forgot his Levitech technology. What do you do?....that's right! You take it, because he dropped it! It's yours now!
Now, let's say your father gave you a special heirloom ring that's been in your family for generations. What do you do?....exactly! You upload it to the cloud! Would n't want those thieves to steal your prized posession, would you?
This has been a PSA with me, Les Loot, CEO of Levitech!
*SCREEN POWERS OFF*
`` So, what do you think, Mr. Loot?'' A nervous executive asked. Everyone knew how Les Loot got his name. *No one* wants to piss Les off.
`` Hmm... I like it. It's a PSA, but also a product placement. Good. Send this one out.'' Les looked down at the small mountain of items next to him, and added an old gold coin to the stack.
`` Is... is that Gary Shaloquir's family crest?''
`` Why, yes it is. How did you know?'' Les gave a huge grin.
`` Oh... uh... just a guess, is all. Strange how he'd give it up.'' He was anxious to leave.
`` Weird, right? Anyway, you can leave now.''
The exec hurried out, leaving Les alone. `` Such a shame, though. *sigh* All my best workers have to make the *Les Loot, why not more Loot? * joke.''
Ah, the beauty of legal and corporate loopholes. You see, someone's life is technically property. You ca n't carry life, so you can just *snatch it away*. Then, all their loot is yours. Nobody knows, of course, but that's between *you and I*.
|
[ WP ] You are sitting in a crowded coffee shop with writer 's block when you think you overhear the people at the table next to you conspiring to commit a murder .
| Kevin pulled his lips into a tight line. His script rewrite was due in a few days, and he could n't put the pen to paper. He'd tried. He doodled a few things, wrote a grocery list, tried to work through the innumerable exercises he'd picked up along the way. But each time he tried to put letters into words and words into sentences, his hand stopped moving, held in place by some intangible but physically insurmountable force. It was infuriating, demoralizing, utterly threatening to his sense of self, almost like a loaded gun held to his head. Yet the words would not come.
He sipped at his coffee and glanced around. A young couple sat down next to him and leaned in close, giggling and kissing each other in a manner that suggested a fair but unsuccessful attempt at subtlety. He turned to the other side and saw a man staring at him, glaring at him really, red rimmed eyes twitching and hands balled in fists.
He dropped his gaze in a hurry and brought it back to the paper. Still blank. The pattern of dots in the margin had grown somewhat, but somehow he doubted they'd accept that as a draft back at the studio. He almost put his head in his hands and cried, but instead he just closed his eyes. Years of working the system, trying to to land his a real gig, his chance to make a splash, and now that his first and maybe only chance had come, he was falling to pieces in a shitty Starbucks in the middle of the city.
A thread of conversation pierced the melancholy blanketing his mind and the pen stopped tapping.
`` She'll never know.''
`` But her son is going to be home tomorrow.''
`` We'll be gone by then. Long gone.''
`` What if she sees us?''
`` You do n't wake up from two in the brainpan.''
The pen started moving, as if it had known the words all along. The scene ran together in his mind like a sculpture melting in reverse, details snapping into focus with little *snicks* and *snaps*. Relief flood through him and for the first time in at least a week the thought it was going to be all right, that he was going to make it, that the dice that ruled the world had fallen in his favor for a change. All he had to do was copy and let the pen fill in the details.
`` Still.''
`` Still what? We've got it all lined up. There's no way this goes bad, no way.''
`` What's he doing?''
`` Who?''
`` That guy with the paper.''
Kevin froze. He turned his head and raised his eyes with exaggerated care. The young couple stared back, surprise and anger dawning on their faces. He gave them a furtive grin and shook his head.
`` I'm not telling anyone,'' he whispered. The pen started tapping again. `` This is good stuff. Keep it coming!''
|
[ WP ] Have someone explode at another person
| Dinner was concluding when the knock sounded on the door.
Nathan McAlpine was finishing off the fried potatoes while his mother got up to open the door. She returned bearing a letter, one from the Department of War. It was addressed to him. Pulling out his clasp knife, he slit the top and withdrew the papers. Wordlessly he read. His dark blue eyes scrolling down the page. Finishing with a wordless grunt, he got up and thumped up the staircase to his room. The rest of his family waited in the dining room.
He reemerged with his coat on and a small bag of his effects over his shoulder. He handed the papers to his father who then read it. Saying not a word, he went over to the liquor cabinet to pour two measures of rum and handed one to his only son. The letter passed to his mother. Reading it, she grew more and more distraught, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as tears threatened to well forth from her eyes. Nathan's two younger sister grew more and more agitated at not knowing what was going on around them. Eventually Margaret, the eldest of the pair at 16 sought answers.
`` Nathan? What's going on, why are you leaving?'' He said nothing, only turning his back to gather a small lunch of dried sausage and bread. `` Nathan, answer me. Where are you going?!'' Her mother scurried around, readying things for her sole son. As she looped an amulet around the young man's neck, she spoke instead. `` Your brother, dear one, has been drafted. He will be joining the war effort.'' His sister had a look of both confusion and questioning. `` But why?'' Finally, her brother spoke. `` Because Margaret, the King has called and I must obey.'' She was dissatisfied with that answer. Rising from her seat at the table, she glared at her elder sibling. `` Why must you obey?'' He filled his tumbler with more of the dark spirit. `` Because it is my duty. I have a duty to my country and fatherland. I do not expect you to understand. You are still young.''
Her eyes widened in disbelief. `` What? Your duty to your country? What about your duty to your family? What about our parents? What about Sara. What about me? How can you turn your back on us? You selfish, worthless excuse of a brother! How can y-'' He cut her off with a chopping motion. `` My duty to my country is duty to my family! By protecting the nation, I protect my family. It is an honorable cause. This argument is over with.'' She stalked over to him, glaring. `` You, you glory hound! Thinking you'll be the hero! You'll die!'' His patience was rapidly dissolving. `` Then I'll die defending my loved ones! I'd rather die protecting them and my country than to pass in my sleep when I'm old and feeble. If I die, I die knowing it was for a worthy cause. It is a great honor to serve my country in such a fashion. If I die, I go willingly to my death. Such is the price I must pay to keep my family safe.''
She continued, her eyes brimming with tears. `` You, you traitor!'' Her hands grasped at his collar, her knees threating to give out from under her. `` You're going to leave us and never return. You're going to die on some forsaken piece of land and no one will find you. I know this. And what about Emily? You were going to marry her. Are you going to leave her a widow, sad an alone? What are you going to tell her? Nathan. I do n't want you to go. I do n't want you to die. Please do n't go.''
She broke down, tears dripping down her cheeks. He kissed the top of his sister's head and handed her off to his mother. Kissing his mother on her cheek, he also pecked his youngest sister on the forehead. She was only ten. Gathering his bag, he shook hands with his father and left the house. He was heading to the recruiting station. His sister's words were prophetic. He would die on the field of battle, his remains never recovered. He would not be reunited with his love in this life. His death was nothing more than a note in a ledger to his country. To his family, he was much more. He was a son, a nephew. Perhaps most importantly, a brother.
|
[ WP ] Describe a task often seen as mundane or simple with such detail it becomes an exciting challenge .
| I tapped my smartphone a few times, selecting the new app. It looked much nicer than the old one, with smoother graphics and a little green mascot. Cute. I flexed my fingers, popping a few knuckles, then selected the right side and pressed START. The mascot gave me a thumbs-up and a stopwatch function began counting up in solid green numbers.
I began with my go-to finger: the pointer on my right hand. It was a classic and rarely let me down. Unfortunately this quickly proved to be a difficult situation, one that required more than the usual tactics. I rubbed my right thumb against my jeans, ensuring a smooth edge. Then I tucked it in and cautiously wiggled. Nope, this one was wedged in too firmly. Maybe the pinky finger, for some finesse.
With slow, deliberate motions, I moved my right pinky into position. It advanced gently, but I accidentally bumped a side and again was thwarted. Crap. Time for a change in tactics.
I held up my left hand for a cursory inspection. The nails on my left tended to be longer, since I used that hand to steer the van and as such they were rarely subjected to my nervous habit of biting. The thumb again, I decided. Not very subtle, but it had power. The thumb entered at the perfect angle, sweeping in a curve that caught the barest edge.
I paused, then carefully applied some gentle pressure. I felt the sweet release and triumphantly brought out my prize. With my right hand, I tapped the red STOP button. Thirty-eight seconds. The little green mascot cheered and danced across the screen in congratulations.
`` Hang on, pal. Too early to celebrate.'' I leaned forward in my chair and stood up. I rested my left hand on the cubicle wall in front of me, glancing at the woman on the other side. Janice was bent over, scribbling furiously on a yellow form. Her curly dyed-red crop of hair bounced and jiggled with every new word.
My left thumb turned to align with Janice's hunched form. I curled my right pointer finger and thumb into an O, then with impressive speed I released my forefinger in a mighty flick. The missile sailed true, landing in the sea of reddened locks.
`` Headshot!'' I whispered in triumph. Janice glanced up, and her scribbling paused. Her eyes moved from my hands to my face, then widened in horror.
`` Oh, no,'' she spluttered. `` No, no, no! You did n't. You would n't!'' Her hands flew to her head and began combing through the hairsprayed locks. Heads began to pop up from the other cubicles, like little prairie dogs sensing a treat. Janice suddenly stopped, having found my missile with one hand. She grabbed a tissue from her desk with the other, and gingerly pinched the beauty into its white folds. She dropped it onto the desk immediately.
A low murmur began to run around the office as I triumphantly took my seat. A light touch on my shoulder made me turn to see Lisa from HR standing behind me. She squinted down at my phone and read aloud, `` MineTime? Um, is that a dancing booger?'' She shook her head and cleared her throat. `` Never mind that. I'll need you to come with me. There are a few things we should talk about.''
I stood, slipping my phone into my pocket. Janice's eyes narrowed in malicious glee as she waved and mouthed, `` Bye-bye.'' I shrugged casually. Let them fire me. Submitting this story to the MineTime forums would be worth thousands of upflicks. In my opinion, it was totally worth it.
|
What it would be to bathe for the first time ...
| How exhausted the man looked, as though he had been lost in a maze without end.
His hair, scraggly like the film of a cassette tape had been ripped out of its case, with a thick layer of grease having built up on it.
His eyes showed a pain, a sense of sadness and hurt, which resembled that of a bloodhound. A face which showed battle scars of bar fights and memories which were to hurtful to remember.
His eyes drooped down, and slowly a realization came upon me, that the man he had been staring it was myself. I was staring at the mirror, and could n't recognize myself any longer.
|
[ WP ] The leader of a dragon-slaying party is a Mary Sue character ; Perfect in every way , no flaws , knows exactly what to do always . The rest of the party says `` this is boring , '' and decides to kill them off .
| The dragon fell to the ground like a bird made of dead bird. There was a hush as everyone waited for the dust to settle.
`` Huzzah!'' the crowd shouted. `` Marian Dragonslayer has saved us again!''
Marian blushed and hid her face. `` Oh no,'' she said. `` It was n't me, it was thanks to all of you for believing in me.'' She turned to the other members of her party. `` Can you make sure there's enough treasure on that horrid beast to pay for the damages done to the town.''
Stezz met Marian's puppy eyes with a look of absolute boredom. For a brief moment he held a hope he could outlast her, and then Marian put on her trademark pout. He sighed and turned to the other two members of their party.
`` Alright, let's open this thing up.''
~
It was a shovel drake, which meant it was loaded, which meant that krutzing hollow could afford to throw a party for the band. Or rather, a party for Marian, that she shared with her dear friends.
Stezz took a long drink of ale then slammed his mug down on the table. `` Alright, we need to have this talk.''
Phar eyed him. `` Do elaborate, there are no doubt countless subjects we need to talk about.''
Eline waved her hand in Marian's direction. `` Stezz, unless you have some new idea this is a pointless conversation. We're all thinking the same thing, and there's no way to get rid of it.''
Stezz growled at his empty cup. `` I know, dammit. But it's so freaking dull. I adventure for excitement, and she takes it all away. We're heroes everywhere we go, she was literally born to kill dragons, there's no challenge in fighting...''
`` We're buried in her shadow,'' Eline interrupted. `` We're all top-level adventurers and no one even knows our names because of her, and she attracts weak-brained men like porridge attracts gnolls. We can talk all night, Stezz, she's not going to `` abandon her friends'' no matter what we do.''
`` I might have an idea,'' said Phar suddenly. `` We could force the end of her adventuring career.''
Eline laughed. `` What, with an injury? Assuming a miracle cure does n't fall out of the sky, then her `` forbidden love'' will just fix her. Hell, we'll be lucky if she does n't get us all cursed with immortality with her.''
Phar smiled grimly. `` No, I was thinking a more... permanent solution.''
Stezz held up a hand. `` Hold up man. She's annoying and frustrating and a thousand other things, but do we really want to be the ones to do that?''
Phar leaned forward. `` No, but we do n't have to be. There is a whisper drake sleeping to the east of here. It's not big, but if we can get her off balance then it will be more than enough to take her down.''
Eline took a drink. `` Ok, but I'm kinda with Stezz, does she really deserve to die just for being an unbearable piece of cow dung?''
`` No, but there's one more thing,'' Phar grinned. `` I have it on good authority that she will be meeting a certain mysterious stranger outside of town at midnight.''
Stezz grinned. `` You've been planning this for a while. A good glimpse of whatever purgatory her kind gets should take some of that edge off her.''
`` And at the very least,'' Eline said. `` Maybe it will finally convince her that she can no longer be apart from her fair prince of shining misery or whatever.''
Phar clapped his hands in a brief display of excitement. `` Now there's just one problem. How do we get her off balance?''
The adventurer's table went silent for a moment. Marian was too good at everything. None of them could think of a time when they had seen her slip up. Even the presence of her boyfriend probably would n't be enough to disrupt her.
Just then, Marian's voice carried over the inn's noise. `` Oh no, I am so terribly sorry, but I ca n't. I just ca n't.''
Stezz looked just in time to see another admirer have his little heart broken by Marian Dragonslayer. Eline was right about weak-brained men and Marian.
`` Please do n't be sad,'' Marian said. `` I do n't know why you would want an ugly girl like me. Why do n't you talk to my friend Eline? She's been single for so long, I'm sure you would like each other.''
The boy looked over at Eline hopefully. She sighed, lifted her hands where he could see them, and made obvious gestures until he blushed and ran out of the inn.
Eline leaned back with a satisfied look on her face. `` I think we have one surprise she does n't know about.''
~
Stezz watched Marian sneak out of Krutzing Hollow, then signaled Eline to follow. The moon was full and the stars were bright. A wolf howled and the night birds answered. Did n't need Phar's sources to know marian was meeting her lover tonight, Stezz thought.
They followed Marian through the woods until they found a small cemetery. There was a tall, hooded figure waiting for her.
`` Marian... my dove. You should not have come.''
`` Robert... Oh Robert. Nothing could have stopped me.''
Robert smiled and raised his hand. The ground broke and a skeleton crawled onto the surface. The undead raised a bouquet of glowing flowers to Marian, then crumbled to dust.
`` For you, my sweet light. They grow a hundred paces straight down, where even the mice glow. But not even these flowers can glow as bright as your face tonight.''
`` Robert,'' Marian said, and then she ran into his arms. `` Oh, how I've missed you.''
Eline nudged Stezz, then stood up and dropped her cloak. She walked into the opening in a nightdress with a bewildered look on her face.
`` M-Marian?'' Eline stuttered. `` I... I thought.''
Marian jumped away from Robert. `` Eline! What are you doing here?''
Eline wrapped her arms around herself. `` I saw you leave, and I thought, you were alone, and...'' A tear slid down Eline's cheek.
Marian shook her head. `` Eline. What is the matter? I do n't understand...''
`` Oh, you never understand anything!'' Eline shouted, then she grabbed Marian and kissed her firmly on the lips.
Everything went still. The birds stopped singing. Robert's face was so confused Stezz hoped he had acquired brain damage. The quieter a place is, the harder it is to hear a whisper drake.
It fell from the sky like a bird made from alive yet extremely fast birds. The sound of Phar's shout echoing through the cemetery was the only warning anyone got. Eline jumped to the side, but Marian was still in a daze. The drake slashed her chest from shoulder to hip.
Robert gave an unearthly scream. The drake turned to face him and cut off his scream, but it was too late. The cemetery erupted as every single corpse burst out of it's grave. The drake turned to fly, but the undead swarmed it and pinned it to the ground. Robert walked up to the trapped beast and ripped out it's heart.
`` Oh no,'' he said. `` You're not dying that easily.''
`` Robert!'' Stezz shouted. Robert ignored him.
`` Robert,'' Stezz said again. `` If you love her, you have to save her quickly.''
Robert dropped the drake's heart. `` Thank you. She's the only thing that matters to me.''
Stezz groand internally. Robert waved his arms and a door opened in the air.
`` I'm losing control of them,'' said Robert, gesturing to the undead horde he had created. `` I'm sorry, but you will have to handle yourselves.'' Then he disappeared with Marian.
Eline limped to Stezz's side. `` Well, crap. I do n't suppose you have a sword I can borrow?''
Stezz handed her a long dagger. `` That was an impressive performance, by the way.''
Eline laughed. `` You should have seen the last girl I tried that on.''
Phar walked out of the trees across from them. `` Success?''
`` Success,'' Stezz called back.
The zombies and skeletons raised their heads at the sound of his voice. A low hiss came from them.
Stezz grinned. `` Bring it.''
|
[ WP ] Create a fictional mythological race , ( werewolves , vampires , skinwalkers , etc ) and the legend behind it
| The thing about a myth is how it defies logic. All reason and analysis go out the window. Those are things for the cold light of day! For men to discuss over tea, reducing the world until it is nothing at all.
But myths, well, they slink in the shadows. Dance around the edges of your mind where the spirits and demons play. Boisterous arguments in the town square give way to whispered tales on chilly nights, huddled around campfires. Science points at a myth and says that it can not exist. It marches out its principles, its theorems, its proofs. The myth merely smiles, nods, and remains.
This one should n't exist. Its shape can not hold organs, or any other method of sustaining life. It should die instantly to the cold. The thing glides and swings from tree to tree, hiding in the dense foliage, in the cold wilderness.
All I know, my dear friend, is that every so often, a traveler wandering the Canadian wilderness will fail to glance up, to check the sky for all manner of beastie and monster. Then... BAM! the drop-bear pounces.
|
[ WP ] Unbeknownst to you , your mother-in-law has put a hit on you , the incompetent son she never wanted . For months , you 've been unknowingly foiling the assassins every attempt to kill you .
| I was n't suspicious at all. When the police came to me and asked me a lot of strange questioned, of course, I put all the pieces together. They fit together like a pizza.
I had missed my bus the first February. It derailed into the river. I saw it while driving by in the second bus - I'd be late for work but alive.
That was creepy, but not really suspicious.
The week after that, I was almost mugged. A guy wielding a knife came at me at the train station, but I stumbled backwards behind the closing doors of the train I just had arrived in.
That one was odd, because it was in public. Oh, whatever. Junkies will be junkies, I guess.
I was attacked by dogs the following monday, but I dropped my groceries and ran away and the dogs were more interested in my shopping backs full of BBQ meats than in chasing me.
Then there was the elevator malfunction that killed my neighbor. I had clumsily dropped my keys down the elevator shaft while attempting to get on and was on my way to building security to get it fetched for me when the elevator cables snapped on the 5th floor. The sound of screaming meatle followed me day and night until....
that next Monday, a week later, when I exchanged that eerie sound for the smell of burning flesh to haunt me. The kebap shop I eat at during lunch time exploded. Faulty gas oven, they told me. It happens all the time.
This was followed by the month of breaking glass. I actually thought I was being followed by a poltergeist, because so much stuff would break around me. Vases, windows - every time I ducked I would hear a whizzing sound and then something fragile would pretty much explode somewhere around me.
Police later told me they had found a wanted Italian national, who was an assassin for hire, hanged in his hotel room. His suicide note read `` He is protected by the divine. I have failed you, father.''. They never found his rifle, but for every vase that had burst behind me while I ducked, tripped, or tied my shoes there was a spent bullet casing sitting on his night stand.
Those catholics and their melodrama.
It all came around when my mother-in-law, a woman who had married rich, and of conciderable pride, came to me for a loan. She wanted 50.000 dollars, no questions asked.
I told her that I had lost most of my savings in stock speculations, and she just roled her eyes and told me it was `` typical'' that I `` was n't reliable'' and `` of no help at all''.
I mentioned my money problems to the police officers after the month of glass. They had asked me if I knew someone was after my life, but I said, hell no, officers, I am not an important person at all. Look at me. Who would want to kill someone like me?
They asked me if I was being threatened, or extorted.
I said, extorted for what? I have enough money problems as it is! With the stock market disaster and my mother-in-law asking me for my savings.....
My mother-in-law died 2 months later. In that time, my house burned down, my brand-new car exploded when I lent it to a friend of mine, my cat ate some of my Chinese take out and died, the postman died while stuffing something into my mailbox, and I my house was invaded by poisenous spiders.
I survived that last one only because I fainted and did n't gain consciousness until being `` revived'' in the ambulance by paramedics. They told me that the spider were n't threatened by me and so I suffered not a single bite. A neighbor called animal control when he saw me covered in spiders on my front porch.
At my mother-in-law's funeral, I was n't able to speak. It was so sad. A heart-attack and her relatively young age? Who would have thought she would be taken from us so soon.
The doctor blamed stress, and this surprised me, because her collegues said she had barely worked at all in the last month or so. I should probably get my heart checked as soon as possible.
But after the police had been and gone I knew what was going on! The 50.000. The stress. She must've been the one who was being extorted! And I did n't see it at all! Why did n't she come to me with the truth?
The priest that read her sermon said something about new beginnings and not to worry to much about life because whatever god's plan has in store for us will happen no matter what we do.
And as I did relax and tried not to worry too much about the crazy months I had, life went back to normal again. Actually, the days after the funeral were some of the most quiet ones of my life.
|
[ WP ] Your entire life , you 've been followed by a voice only you can hear that constantly narrates everything you do and say . One day , the voice talks directly to you for the first time , and it has a warning for you .
| ~Duck..~
I froze. I was walking down a rather dark alleyway, why would a duck be here?
~DUCK NOW! ~ The voice commanded and I threw myself forward, feeling something sharp slice my shirt just past my shoulder.
~RUN! ~ I did n't hesitate I took off as fast as I could. Every fiber of my being screamed tat me to put as much distance between me and the alleyway.
`` WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?'' I screamed between breaths.
The voice had always been in my head. It was different then any other persons voice I had ever heard. So clear, so different, it was hard to explain.
~Jump! ~ pulled back to reality I pushed off the ground as hard as I could. My breath caught in my chest as I cleared the entire road. I had never been good at sports or even been a very athletic person....
~We ca n't run anymore, stop at the end of this alley~ I came to a stop and looked around me. I was completely lost. I could feel something getting closer and it scared me.
~I need you to concentrate. Focus on nothing but my voice. We have to fight.~
`` I've never been in a fight.'' My hands began to shake and sweat.
~Do n't worry. I can, pick up that piece of pipe.~ I grabbed the hunk of metal from out of a trash can and stood ready.
~Just listen to my voice.~
|
[ WP ] `` Everybody wants to change the world . But no one wants to die . ''
| `` Everybody wants to change the world. But no one wants to die.'' were the last words my wife Jesse breathed as she peered, lifeless, into my being.
I knew that quote well. It came from a novel she had re-read over a hundred times since high school. It was a story about a pauper who rose to power by romancing then betraying every woman of influence he set his gaze on. Effectively taking their wealth for his own all to further his own.
The story had always sickened me, how he was able to cast aside his emotions, feelings, and heart all in pursuit of some idea of riches and fame. How he could shed his relationship skin without a moment's notice, destroying the women in the process and feeling nothing of it. It was a tale of tragedy, yet Jesse adored it deeply.
The paperback she bought during her school days was all but a wisp of its former self when she first showed it to me. The pages she loved were smeared with oil from her fingers and tears she had shed while reading. She always spoke of how the book was able to make her feel happy, sad, and enraged all at the same time. How it set her heart aflame each and every time through. How it had made her passionate about life and drove her to become something more.
Her passion drove her to become an author which eventually led her into my office to get signed with my rather small publishing company. Her beauty caught my eye initially but the unmatched passion, that she had for the story of the pauper, made me fall in love. On our first anniversary, I replaced that shitty paperback with a rather expensive and rare leather bound first edition. I can still remember her expression as she opened the pages and took a big whiff. The smell of a brand new book turned her on more than I ever could hope to.
Her passion was infectious and I could feel my ambitions grow the more time I spent with her. I began to feel like I did n't want to remain just some random publisher for just a few authors. Why could n't I have 10, 100, 1000 clients? Why could n't I become a distributor as well? Print the books in house? Become a symbol for the industry? The best publisher ever? A legend?
Perhaps it was her passion that inevitably led us to this moment lost in time. That infectious disease that spread like wildfire. That made me want more than what I had in life, to leave a mark on this world.
As the light finally left her eyes, and with the quote still ringing loudly in my ears, I stood up from her body and turned back to my laptop. Her image, impaled on her lucky letter opener, remained clear in my head as I tapped the enter key to send the press release notifying the death of an award winning writer.
I would carry on her legacy as a dead writer is far greater than a living one could be. As my actions finally began to settle within me, I could n't help but smile.
I knew I had n't become the pauper in her story because deep down, I still loved her.
|
[ WP ] You wake up to find that all water is replaced by a unbearably spicy hot sauce .
| Little Joey woke up one morning. He had an extreme thirst. He walks to the kitchen and gets a cup. Walks to the sink and gets some water. But. It's not water. It's some strange orange substance. Against better judgement, Little Joey decides to take a sip. His head explodes with pain. Joey drops the cup, shattering it on the cold tiles. Clutching his head and clawing at his tongue he staggers down the hallway to the closet where his mom keeps the cleaning supplies. With a squeak the door is opened. Finally, Little Joey has found what he is hunting. 2nd shelf in the middle. He lugs the container back to the kitchen to get a new cup. By now, he can barely see through the rolling waves of fiery pain. He pours the substance into the new cup and takes 3 long swigs. Then he realizes the bleach was also transformed into this devil substance known as `` hot sauce''.
At his wits end, he goes hunting for a rope. Then realizes he does n't know how to tie a noose.
Shit.
|
[ WP ] Your entire life everyone around you has acted like you have a brother you ca n't see ; talking to thin air and calling you crazy or mean when you deny his existence . One day you get a phone call , and its him .
| At first, I thought the silence on the other side of the phone was just a prank. You know how it is: you pick up the phone, no one's there, and eventually you get creeped out enough to hang up. Miles away, there are probably kids snickering as they pass the phone back and forth between dumb prank calls.
This time, I wrote the number down.
I sat at the computer and googled it. No luck. So next I texted my parents: `` Whose number is this? 519-327-0071.''
My mom wrote me back, `` It's David.''
I went cold all over, set down my phone, and did n't touch it for a long time. I grabbed some of my anti-psychotic medication out of the cabinet. Fucking David.
As far as I could tell, he did n't exist. My psychiatrist did n't believe me, either, and prescribed me all sorts of bullshit for my `` personality disorder''. Sometimes I just wanted to hide, to cry, to curl under a blanket and read a good book. Other days... other days were better. Other days, I went days and weeks with a reminder of my brother, other days I went months without talking to family, to friends who said they knew him.
The next phone call, I heard breathing. God, that noise, like a fat man after a marathon. Was my invisible brother obese? I took a double dose that day. Fuck David. Fuck David.
Next came the texts. Short stuff, like half a conversation. `` How's college?'' then, after that, `` haha wish I could see your room.'' Then `` I have something for you.'' Then: `` wish I could visit.''
I texted him back. I said, `` Please do n't.'' That's all. I wanted to forget. Fuck David.
When he finally replied, he wrote, `` See you soon.'' That's it. `` See you soon,'' like I'd said nothing at all.
There were no text messages after that. But one night he knocked on my door. He knocked on my door, I went, and there was no one there. He's done it multiple times, and every time, there's no one there, and I tell myself it's some bullshit prank, I feel a little creeped out and close the door, and I imagine that somewhere there are little kids hiding around a corner, giggling and talking about whose door they'll knock on next.
But this time, I swear I heard breathing.
|
[ WP ] Someone invents a flashlight that instead of emitting light , emits shadow .
| “ We ’ ve done it. Frozen light in relative space. Instantaneous deceleration from c to 0.
INTRODUCING: THE DARKLIGHT
That ’ s right! Impress your friends by creating a cone shaped area of photonic non-movement! Scare your whole campout by blotting out the moon! Hide things from your parents! Using this fun template, make an actual working Bat Signal, that works…during the DAY?! Ha-WOW!
Parents! Block out the naughty parts of movies! Hide vegetables! Point at your troublesome flab areas for instant results! Looking good catfish!
*Caution: Do not point the DARKLIGHT towards a person ’ s face. Not even the elderly, no matter how full a life they lived. Under no circumstances should you point two of these devices in the same direction, or at each other. The resulting photonic resonance can result in anything from temporary blindness to the unmaking of all creation. This device requires batteries not available in non-military applications. Do not attempt to plug the device into a wall charger. Attempting to plug the device into a wall charger may result in complete nuclear annihilation of any object in the beam path. Do not handle this device without lead-lined lab gloves. DARKLIGHT and its parent company HASBRO are not liable for any damages to persons, pets, property or space-time occurring during the use of this device. *
DARKLIGHT: IT ’ S NIGHT IN YOUR POCKET! ”
|
[ WP ] You 've travelled to hundreds of different civilizations around the universe , seeing as many different forms of intelligent life as could be imagined . However , this last trip you saw a species almost identical to humans , except for a few differences .
| She looked like me, but she was not human. These were not humans. They were something else. They had to be.
At first, I thought I had made a wrong turn. That perhaps my systems had malfunctioned. It was n't the case.
I looked into the eyes of the creature standing before me and saw, for the first time in years, something familiar. The orange surrounding the darkness within her pupil dilated as my ship's engines powered down, taking their light with them. Her brunette hair blew in the wind, almost exactly like Barbara's back home.
By random chance, I always knew there was a probability of finding another human race out there somewhere. I did n't believe I would be the one to find them. The planets that I see are typically far, far different from Earth.
The scans of this planet did n't detect cities, nor any large population centers. I had been expecting to find perhaps a simian species. I was n't expecting this.
She walked up to me and placed her hand on my neck. It was unexpected. She looked and felt human - except for the orange eyes, we do n't get those back home - but she smelled different. Everyone has a smell. Some good, some bad, but always human. Not her. This smell was different. My mind was telling me this was a human, but my body - every physical cue - was telling me otherwise.
She removed her hand and started to walk away. Sometimes I get arrested, other times shot at immediately, a few times embraced. Once even as a God. Never ignored like this.
I went back into the ship to re-evaluate my scans. They were correct. No cities. But she must have come from somewhere. I had the orbiting satellite scanned again, this time more granular. There had to be something I was missing.
There they were. Homes, scattered across the surface of the planet. Each was nearly equidistant from the next. There were no cities. No `` town centers''. No centers of population. Just homes and businesses, separate from each other in a seemingly mathematical fashion.
I had seen a civilization like this once before. The Rio'da from Kaleb IV. After study, I had found that the Rio'da simply preferred to be apart.
Humans are an interesting species. We seek each other out when we are lonely. We build cities and suburbs and look for others of our kind for validation of our existence. We are drawn to each other magnetically. Our civilization formed around being able to get to other humans as quickly as possible.
This species did n't do this. Instead, they choose to be apart. Their magnets are pushing each other away. They do not seek each other out, instead choosing lives of solitude.
She looked like me, but she was not human. These were not humans. They were something else.
|
[ WP ] You 're kneeling on a beach grasping at the sword that was just run through your stomach . Your eyes fall upon the person who stabbed you , your best friend . You wish you could be angry , but you know you deserved this , and it breaks your heart to see how broken your friend is . What lead you here ?
| **Halcyon**
You open your eyes. The sands of home sprawl before you. *Oceans*. *Rain*. Dreams. Nothing more. You close your eyes.
\ -- -
You open your eyes.
`` Alpha Centauri's gone.''
`` I know.''
`` Why are we doing this?''
`` Why? What are you-''
`` I mean.. Look-'' You look away. `` Nevermind.''
You close your eyes.
\ -- -
*Pride*. You had a gift. You were the best. *Chosen One*. And yet...
*Wrath*. You were sharp. You knew their envy. And you retaliated fiercely. But was that really...?
*Avarice*. Why did you lie? We did n't need those supplies...
*Cruelty*. You did n't need to kill him. Not like that...
\ -- -
Legions. Conquest. They called you god emperor. You were their salvation. *Chosen One*.
You were a monster.
Why? What had...
\ -- -
You attack me. I manage to-
Why-
Red. *Red*.
You look at me.. relieved...?
`` You were *Chosen One*! It was said that you would-!''
You laugh -- cackle and sputter with a sword in your stomach. I look away; that was n't what I wanted to say. *You were my brother. I loved you... *
You die.
\ -- -
**Epilogue**
They proclaimed you one generation late, but you were in fact countless generations early.
In the end, you were not Chosen One, and you were forgotten, buried by the sands of time. But, a faraway people have come sharing your hopes and dreams, to make your home know water.
Rest in peace, brother.
& nbsp;
*With apologies to George Lucas and Frank Herbert. *
|
[ WP ] The Grim Reaper appears before all the world 's pet owners with an ultimatum . `` Either I take your pet , or one random person in the world dies . ''
| `` Dun dun dun daaaaaah! Congratulations!'' The voice came out of nowhere. He was standing behind my couch, but my instincts instantly made me leap up and grab a nearby rolled up newspaper.
`` Who are you, and how the fuck did you get in my house?'' I demanded. He just smiled at me.
`` Sorry, I guess I should have just gone to the front door. I'm the Grim Reaper.'' He indicates to his body, showing off his weird attire. He wore a black nike t-shirt, perhaps one size too big, flowing over his dull grey sweatpants. He wore scuffed up sneakers, his laces untied. Looking over him, I saw he was about 14, long black hair tied up in a ponytail, no hair on his face just yet, but no acne or any kind of blemish. He must take care of his skin.
`` I suppose you probably want proof.'' he said, clicking his fingers, a small black gaslike substance appearing in the air above his fingers, slowly forming into a book that finally became solid and dropped into his hands. Licking his index finger, he opens the book, turning page over page till he landed on the one he wanted. He then turned the book to me, showing the page in general.'Linus, chocolate labrador. Old age.' That's what the book said. I was a little out of it, first the books appearance, then this. The evidence he had some kind of dark power was enough, but to be told my best friend was to pass away was more than anything. I knew he was due soon, but you never expect it when it happens. Then I saw the words directly below it.
`` What does that mean?'Or other.' Does that mean there's a chance my pal can live a little longer?'' The Reaper smiled.
`` Now you know why I'm here. Usually, a Reaper can just be invisible, walking up, taking the dog, walking away. But I'm part of a special division. In every Reaper circle, there is one that is allowed to offer a choice. It was an initiative the higher ups brought in to lower complaints. Basically, your dog was chosen at random to be selected to live a longer life, at a cost. Now, since the recipient is usually biased towards wanting to live, we choose a third party to make the decision instead. For Linus, that is you.''
The reaper moved over to the front of the couch, dropping down and putting his feet up on the table. `` Basically, if you want Linus to pass away, I'll let you say your goodbyes and all that. You'll have 24 hours, then I'll give him over to another Reaper in Pet Deaths, and your dog will sleep the eternal sleep. If you want him to live however, I will take someone else's life, and Linus will get the years they still had remaining, and be as healthy as he was in his youth. Simple, yes?''
The more he explained it, the more my mind was overflowing. Could I take someone's life for the sake of my pet? Who would die while Linus lived? So many moral questions kept flooding into my mind as I repeated his words back in my head.
`` Wait, -'' I asked, something now bugging me more than the choice. `` -who would die? Would it be someone I know? Or me?'' The Reaper smiled at me again.
`` No, I can assure you it will be someone you definitely do not know. Even if you let Linus die, the person I choose will never meet you or see you. Their life or death will never even impact yours in the slightest. Nor will they be someone who will achieve something great or invent something. This will be a completely unimportant person.'' That made me feel better, but the Reaper could still see the serious look on my face. `` If you need time to think, I can give you a day.''
`` No, it's okay. If it means Linus lives many more healthy years without anyone I know dying, I have to say let him live. There really is n't any other catches to this, are there?'' The Reaper smiled, stood, and held out his hand.
`` Relax. Linus living or dying will not affect you in any way. Do we have a deal?'' I stared at his hand for a few minutes before taking a firm grip and shaking. `` Excellent. Linus will be spared. Someone you do not know will die. You'll never see me again. Enjoy the time you have left with your dog. I now have to go and see my next client.'' The Reaper turned away, glancing down at Linus, and giving him a quick pat.
`` Next client?'' I asked, intriguingly. `` Will they get the same deal?''
The Reaper turned back to me. Then, a large unsettling smile appeared on his face. `` Yes, they will. Oh, and I assure you. It will be someone you do n't know.'' The words remained on my mind as he vanished into thin air.
|
[ WP ] On their first birthday , everyone on Earth is given a wristband that will glow brighter depending on how far away they are from their soulmate . But , yours has never even turned on .
| `` Aliens?'' I said in astonishment, staring at John.
He nodded with a grin. `` Is n't it fantastic?'' he said, clearly giddy. `` Real, intelligent life! They're already corresponding with the government, and they're supposed to land in a few days.''
I rubbed my temples. `` John, are you sure that this is n't just one of your...''
`` I'm sure, dumbass,'' my brother told me affectionately. `` Turn on the news every now and then. Hell, we could take that old telescope out and look at their ship if you want, they're already at the moon.''
I smiled. `` That sounds fun. Let me go grab it.'' I stood and opened the closest, teaching up to where the telescope should be. As I reached, though, I suddenly froze.
`` Sal? What is it?''
`` My bracelet,'' I whispered.
`` What?'' John was instantly there, staring at the faint glow coming from the slim band around my wrist. `` Oh my god. Do you think?''
I could n't take my eyes off it. `` I... I think so.''
`` Then...'' he rubbed his chin. `` I think maybe we should take a trip down to DC.''
-
*A few days later, Washington DC*
I stared up at the aliens where they stood on the Dias, next to the president, the pope, and other important figures. I did n't care about them. I was watching the aliens.
They called themselves Kurnans, I had discovered, although it was unclear whether the term referred to their species, their planet, or their country. Regardless, they looked something like six-legged lizards, standing with a slight hunch, and had spurs of some sort of glowing crystal sprouting from various places on their body, right through the robes they seemed to use as clothing.
I did my best to listen to the introduction. They had a translator, one of the Kurnans who had deciphered English from tv broadcasts they picked up on the journey here. He was explaining, in somewhat awkward language, why they had come to Earth. Apparently, the crystals that grew from a Kurnan glowed in proximity to their mate...
I swallowed in excitement as one of the others stepped down into the crowd, his spurs visibly brightening. He began pacing through the gathered folk, eyes fixed on a spur of crystal growing from his wrist, unerringly approaching... me.
I ignored John's protests as I began pushing my way through the crowd as well, trying to get closer to the Kurnan. My own bracelet way brightening too!
After a moment, I reached him. The crystals growing from his body, along with the bracelet around my wrist, were glowing like miniature suns as our eyes met.
`` This why we came,'' the translator said in satisfaction, although I was paying little attention.
I smiled shyly at the lizard, who regarded me with an answering smile clear in his eyes even if he had no lips to show it. I reached out and took his hand.
`` Love most important.''
|
[ WP ] Where were you the day the zombie apocalypse began ?
| There I was... It was a Sunday afternoon at my local Walmart Supercenter. I was browsing for rollbacks in the electronics section near the medium sized flat screen TVs when all of a sudden there was a scream from the grocery section. I turned quickly, nearly stumbling on my own feet due to the sheer force of my twist. In excitement, I was hoping that finally some welfare scum finally went crazy due to the last bag of Doritos being gone from the shelf.
All of a sudden, a crowd of people started to run for the front of the store! Panic was apparent as the horde of pajama dressed mid day fatties were trampling over each other as fast as their rolls would allow them. They were in such a rush that many of them had left their carts and children behind! Infants were left stranded strapped into their carriers as toddlers were crying in the middle of the isles, while wave after wave the stain riddled sweat pants of the welfares went charging past them!
I had to go see what was going on. I could n't bring myself to leave without seeing what was happening. Did someone need my help? Was there a WIC emergency that I could possibly help resolve, if only to give food to one more starving child born into a life of welfare? This was Walmart after all, and anything could be happening over there.
I leapt into action as I ran towards the grocery half of the store, trying my hardest to fight against the welfare ridden isles between the electronics department and where they kept the store brand generic cheese in a spray can. The main isle was far too dangerous. I would be way too close to the largest congregation of grease stained pajama pants and cheap bargain sweat shirts the world has ever seen... other than in other Walmart Supercenters. I had to cautiously navigate the side isles. To save myself from dealing with the massive crowd, I stuck to the isles that I knew would be empty of these insane festering welfarians. Cleaning supplies, trail mix and granola bars would be my saving grace.
I finally made it to the spot where the scream came from. There was a he-man-it-person, probably about 360 pounds, lying on the floor in a pool of blood and grease. You could tell she had n't showered weeks prior to coming into the store because the grease from her clothing and hair was separating from the blood. Maybe that is what led her attacker to strike. I looked around, searching for a reason for what had happened.
The isles were getting clearer. I could still hear mass panic from the front entrance of the store. What sounded like an eerie combination of screaming, gagging, ripping and tearing was like a dark symphony of despair to my ears. I started to worry as to whether or not I was going to be able to get out of here. I made my way towards the front past the jewelry section and winding around towards the vegetable coolers. There I saw it. The horror that I had imagined was far worse than I had ever dared it could be.
People were eating people! The look and smell of blood, grease and tears filled the air as I took in my horrifying surroundings. How will this go? Why are they doing this? Will I be next?
Suddenly, I was approached by a cashier who's vest had been soaked in someone else's blood. `` Get out now!'' she yelled. `` The EBT machine went down, and they just started going crazy!''
There it was. The reason for the madness. All those welfare scum under one Supercenter roof while the cash assistance had gone down had triggered a horrifying collapse in the abilities to reason. They had lost their minds. They had become something almost as disgusting as they were already. Their minds went blank, their eyes went pale, and they completely lost control.
The entrance is blocked by mountains of fat and blood and the ones that are still killing each other have n't seen me yet. I do n't know how much time I have to find a way out of here. I just pray that it's enough...
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[ WP ] There are many types of Mages in the world . Fire , Ice , Wind , Water , Death , Darkness , to name a few . But in this world , every type of mage is treated as equal . Everyone can be a good guy , no matter how dark your power . And anyone could be a bad guy , no matter how beautiful their ability ...
| `` Rover, no! Bad hellhound! BAD HELLHOUND!''
The young apprentice warlock struggled as he grasped onto the leash, pulling back the fiery hound on the other end. Watching was the apprentice's friend, an acolyte in the art of frost. She stared back at the two, bemused and miffed, as the dog repeatedly leaped towards her in vain.
The apprentice, with a final tug, yanked the hellhound back and flying towards him. The impact forced the apprentice to crash down on the stone floor with an audible thud. A short moan of pain later, the apprentice rose back up, aching throughout his body, as he addressed the acolyte's concerns. `` Sorry, Crystal. Rover just does n't get to meet new people that often. Or, more accurately, ever.''
Crystal rested her head on her fingers, her hand obscuring her eyes with only furrowed brows and gritted teeth visible. `` Vince, I know you're learning, and I believe you when you say the dog's tame otherwise. But taking care of a Summon,'' Crystal paused, setting her hand back down and staring back at Vince before continuing, `` **Is n't. That. Complicated. ** You should've learned this stuff last year.''
Rover, sprawled on the floor, watched the two argue. With its mouth wide open and its tongue settled on the ground, it did n't take long before Vince became distracted by the hellhound's goofy face. He shooed the dog back into its cage.
Crystal continued, `` I'm just stating, if you actually paid attention to your lessons, you might actually be a somewhat decent warlock. But as it stands-'' before being interrupted by sudden, deafening howls. With a snap of her fingers, the air temperature dropped in a sudden burst, and Rover was imprisoned in an ice cube, unable to make sounds louder than various whimpers. Crystal trudged towards the door. Before leaving she turned towards Vince. `` I'm heading to the library. Join me if you want, and maybe I can find a good book or two on Summons you can refer to.''
As the door slammed shut, the ice shattered before dissipating into the air. Rover shuddered, looking up at his frustrated master.
Vince glanced at the hellhound, muttering, `` Way to make a *great* first impression, Rover. I swear, you exist solely to spite me.'' He prepared to leave and join Crystal in the library, but a whimper caused Vince to look back at his dog.
Rover's head tilted down as it stared up at Vince ( or not, Vince could n't really tell. The hellhound's eyes were a solid red glow with features too inconspicuous to find at a glance ), whimpering and clearly saddened by Vince's disappointment towards it. From the slight glistening of the eyes, to the minute movements of its lower jaw, all the little details proved to be too soul-crushing for Vince to just leave on a sour note. Vincent soon approached Rover, patting the hound on its head.
`` You know I ca n't stay mad at you, Rover. Just, try to make a better first impression, okay?'' Not a moment later, an immediate singe struck Vince's hand. His agonizing screams muted Rover's playful barking, and in response to the dog's mischief, Vince cried out, `` **ROVER!!!!! **''
-- -- -
The luminous hall's silence was soon disrupted by firm footsteps. A table, resting in the dead center of the hall, soon had its seats filled with a council and their meeting. The leader of the council stood up and his voice echoed through the hall.
`` It has been an honor working with the finest Archmages. Twenty years have passed since we formulated our plan, yet it felt like only yesterday. Now, we're ready.''
`` But at what cost, Fluoresc?''
`` At what cost? Is that the semblance of doubt I hear, lingering in your voice? With what we're doing, the cost matters not at all. The outcome would be worth any price.''
`` This plan seems a bit ambitious, Fluoresc. How will we know that none will notice, or even stand in our way?''
Fluoresc chuckled at the minor statement of paranoia. `` We shall start with the Den of the Warlocks. No one's gon na miss them when they're gone.''
-- -- -
This prompt actually provided a basis to practice with. Critique welcome!
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[ WP ] A shapeshifter deals with an existential crisis after realizing it no longer remembers its original shape .
| `` On that day I swallowed two prescription pills moments before stepping on to set. Today will be a two pill day,'' I thought to myself. The glassy aperture of the camera snapped like a blinking eye. `` With perfect clarity I became anything they needed for the shoot,'' my words trailed off and I looked up shocked to learn that I still held the groups attention.
The social worker, Linda, said `` and what was it like that day after the shoot wrapped, did you just go home like normal, or did you at least try to apply yourself to become you again? How did you feel?'' To this I shrugged, `` no I did n't even try I just went home. I stayed in my last form.'' Before anyone could ask I satisfied their curiosity by displaying a photo of a sexy twenty something looking aloof in a designer ad.
`` I mean, its not a big deal, but it is a big deal because I feel like I lost something important. And maybe I'm just crazy, but when I do the math the result that I draw from this is that I'm losing myself little by little.'' Linda drew a concerned look on her face, legal pad and pen in hand not missing a beat, she asked `` and is the medication helping with this at all?''
My first impulse was to answer `` yes actually it is helping, but it is n't.'' Linda looked into my eyes and paused motionless waiting for me to finish speaking. But I just froze up while my brain slowly recalculated my answer. I was close to answering when a flicker of light caught my eye. Looking around the room I quickly came to the realization that one by one the cell phones came out of peoples' pockets.
`` They are obviously checking texts, they're bored by what I was saying. I definitely need to wrap up now. It will be nice to sit back and listen to the schizophrenic girl talk about her week, she's got real issues unlike me.'' I thought to myself.
With Linda's gaze still locked on me like a camera lens, waiting for me to reply, I managed to say `` I do n't want to take up too much time, will you be able to see me after group therapy?'' Linda nodded, `` yes of course.''
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[ WP ] You and some friends play the `` wake up , you 're in a dream '' prank on random stranger . They reply , `` Thanks ! '' and disappear .
| `` What just happened?''
I was staring at the pavement. A few leaves and small stones in my line of sight.
`` David, what the fuck just happened?''
I want to look up but for some reason my gaze is fixed on the concrete slabs. I'm just trying to think. I think we were talking to someone. I think we wanted to make fun of them. Now I'm confused.
`` I ca n't fucking, I mean, I do n't...''
Sammy's voice trailed off into a quiet mumble. I think it was hitting him too.
When stuff you do n't expect to happen happens to you, you attempt to rationalise it. How could she have cheated on me? I fucking loved her. I still have n't quite figured that one out, and that was almost a year ago. And now this.
Sammy is starting to panic. I should probably try and calm him down. I can hear him hyperventilating. He's walking away. I should go and get him and tell him everything's fine.
But all I can see is grey stone and brown leaves. I think this is why I came here. And I think this is why she left me.
Why was I here?
A screech and a scream snap me awake. Sammy is lying in the road, motionless. A mortified bystander runs over to help, the driver steps slowly out of the vehicle, shaking visibly.
This is all a dream. I swear, this is all a dream. I close my eyes and there is a young man sitting on the pavement. I open them and I am here.
Sammy's dead. I do n't know it, but he looks dead. I do n't care any more.
Traffic is still moving on the other side of the street. I see a garbage truck approaching and I pick up a brisk pace to intersect it. The driver honks his horn as I dive in front of the massive wheels.
.
.
.
.
.
I'm sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette. She's laying sideways on me, watching some stupid TV show.
`` I love you Diana'', I say out of the blue.
I never could rationalise it.
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[ WP ] Write a story , where each paragraph stands alone as its own story . The entire story should still make sense if read from top to bottom .
| Shecky the Lawyer told Judge Fritz that his client, Rudy the Terrible, was innocent. How dare that school bus get in the way of his car. The judge figured the math checked oit. Rudy the Terrible went free that day.
Judge Fritz left court after presiding over a drunk driving case. He got into his car and sped out of the courthouse parking lot. He was then hit by Rudy the Terrible, the man he had just set free. Some would say it was a tragedy. Others would more logically reason that when you unleash a man with the last name of Terrible, he's gon na turn around and bite you.
After the funeral, Ilgen Fritz, the son of the deceased, picked away at the coffee cake on his plate. Every time he tried to take a bite, someone would come by and say `` sorry for your loss''. One man placed a hand on his shoulder, said he wanted to right the scales and make that drunk driver pay. `` I'm a lawyer. Here's my card,'' he said. `` Name's Shecky. Be in touch.''
|
[ WP ] Aliens make first contact with an Earth ruled by robots .
| The X-12 blasted towards Earth, it's crew trying to get every last minute detail hammered out. The people of plant X had tried 11 times before they finally figured out how to travel faster than light speed. It was all really, really complicated, but basically involved rubber bands and a giant sort of plunger that keeps plunging the fabric of time and space. Now, they were finally going to meet the only race that had transmitted any sort of media across the depths of the universe. Admittedly, it had been the only season of'It's your move', a television sitcom from the 1980's, but it was something.
If the local news broadcasts and commercials had taught the friendly and very bright people of Planet X anything, it was that the leaders of the world were in a oddly named placed called New York City. Of course, being advanced beings their version of GPS could even map foreign worlds, which made getting there pretty easy.
They landed and were surprised by the lack of bustle, to say nothing of the lack of women throwing their hats in the air. For the first time, the expeditionary crew were a little taken aback. All five of the crew had watched the transmissions from the planet for the equivalent of an Earth year, but nothing in front of their three, tentacled eyes resembled what they had seen.
`` Ummm.....'' said the leader, a rather good looking fellow named Kirkeon7, `` Maybe we should venture out and take a look?''
The ships doctor, Boneseon5, harshly interjected: `` There could be a million things that could kill us out there. We do n't know if the atmosphere is compatible with ours, to say nothing of any air borne germs or indigenous killing animals''
He paused, then said `` You know procedure states to send one of the lower ranked members. I'd recommend any of the Red shirt soldiers''
Kirkeon7 paused, then tilted his chin heroically upwards and said `` What sort of X are you? You sound like a half X. I'll go out there exactly the way I am now, you quarter X of an X.''
Kirkeon7 then stormed off towards the boarding tube.
In moments, Kirkeon7 was outside of the star ship, which had landed in front of what was once Madison Square Garden but now looked like a giant Blender made of strands of electrical line.
`` Where are the inhabitants of this planet?'' Kirkeon used all three eyes to scan the abandoned, non-organic world. Everything appeared to be one piece shiny metal, with no seams.
`` Oh, and told you so Boneseon5. No purification filters needed, gravity is slightly less than ours but otherwise perfect.''
Kirkeon7 walked towards the giant blender and fired a laser blast into the side of it. `` Only one thing these savages ever understand'' he grunted, as he fired repeatedly into the blender looking building. The wall sort of evaporated to reveal row after row of humans, all sitting in cubicles and typing furiously on their keyboards, row after row of code being inputted into the network.
None of them even glanced at Kirkeon7, who had just blasted through the wall of their workplace.
`` I've always wanted to say this... take me to your leader!''
No one moved or responded.
The being fired another shot into a silver bank of flashing lights. All the keyboards and monitors the humans were typing instantly dimmed, but the operators continued to type.
A large toaster lurched downwards towards Kirkeon7 and began to beep in threatening tones.
`` Shoot it!'' yelled Boneseon5 `` Shoot it or run!''
Kirkeon7 fired multiple blasts into the walking toaster which kept advancing but with arms now extending from it, with giant clamps at the end.
`` The blasts... they... have no effect!'' yelled Kirkeon7
`` Run!'' The doctor and the rest of the crew were now arming themselves and preparing to go rescue their beloved Captain.
It was at this point that the toaster jammed the brave but foolhardy captain into place and began toasting him.
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[ WP ] You die and find yourself in Valhalla , where all great warriors go when they die . However , you never fought a day in your life . You try to find out why you 're there .
| I never saw the car and I was over quickly. Getting hit by a drunk driver at 80 miles per hour is also, as I discovered, fatal. The worst part is the shock after, the realization that you are dead. You have probably seen it on movies or read about it book, the newly deceased trying to call for help, trying to talk to the people around. There was a lot of waving and shouting for my part. It took me a while to realize I was not the only dead one there. This woman there, laughing at me as she was hanging over the bike, she was clad in leather and jeans, her skin was dark, half her dark hair braided, the other hanging loose. I would have guessed a Indian or Pakistani. Thought never seen anybody like her before, when she leaned up I saw she only wore a leather west. I just kept looking as she got up and walked over to me. ‘ You ’ re coming with me Jake. Unless you want to stay? ’ ‘ uh you know me? ’
‘ Yeah are you coming. ’ She looked at me and saw what I was looking at and smirked. ‘ You like em? ‘
I nodded. ‘ Well if you prove yourself worthy then maybe. But if you touch me before that then I ’ ll cut of your hands and wear em as a necklace. ’ She grabbed me by the neck and dragged, forced me to the bike. She was danm strong. Much stronger than anybody I have ever meet before. ‘ Hop on and hold on. Around the waist. ‘
The bike roared as she drove off. I didn ’ t dare to try anything but hold on. She drove straight towards the harbor off the pier and up.. Yeah up. Not down in the water but up in the air and then I must have had some acid because she was driving on a frikkin rainbow. ‘ you ’ re a quite one. Most ask question and a few tries to grab a better hold. ‘ I could hear the smirk in her voice. And maybe a litte disappointment that I hadn ’ t tried anything. ’
‘ I ’ m dreaming right? I mean I ’ m hallucinating. You ’ re a sexy bike woman driving on a frikking rainbow in space. ‘
‘ Thanks for the compliment but nope, not dreaming. Your dead and I was sent by the big man personally to get you. ’
‘ the big man? Who is that and who are you anyway? ’
‘ Im Naira, former Indian solider and a Valkyrien of Valhalla, as for the big man. You know him as odin. ’
Before I could answer she shouted out a hollar to a big guy in all white, his cape was made of white feathers and he was dressed in a silver armour, he held a flaming sword in his hand. I was amazed, an angle?
‘ that ’ s Heimdal. Nice guy. He sees and hears everything, but he is a little weird to. Its like talking to somebody on a constant high. ‘
‘ Valhalla? But Im not a solider or even a warrior! ’
The bike drove through a large golden gate and into the large courtyard. ‘ off you go Jake Harrison. Up those stair and Leif will fill you in. As I got up she grabbed me and kissed my hard, like I was a price she had won, then pushed me away. I stumbled to the ground. ‘ that ’ s for calling me sexy. ‘ Then she drove off. A few of the people in the courtyard laughed then went back to their work. I looked around, this place was huge. I mean you could probably fit a few football stadiums in here. I started to walk up the stair when a door burst open further down the courtyard, four man was in a mess of a fight. Blood and guts were spilled. One was some sort of soldier. He shoots at a frigging bear of a man with an axe in his hand. The shoot ripped his yaw and ear clean off but didn ’ t stop him from planting an axe in the head of the shooter. One of the shooters friends, also wearing a uniform kicked the man in the chest and emptied a magazine in his direction, the giant got hit twice in the chest and one in his leg. He was dying but he grabbed the rifle by the barrel and pulled it close, the solider tried to fight it but ended up getting too close and the axe came down again. The third solider shots the man twice in the head. He had been the first man threw the door, and not by choice by the looks. Nobody reacted as he picked up the axe and ran in the door he came from. I could not believed what I just saw, nor could I believe that nobody seem to care. A man came down the stair to meet me, brown hair that was well kept. He was clearly trained, wearing a loose woolen shirt over a pair of jeans. He was the kinda guy that would walk into a party and get any of the girls. ‘ Jake? Jake Harrison? I ’ m Leif. ‘ He looked followed my gaze back to the three dead men and chuckled. ‘ How many did he fight? ’ ‘ Three.. with guns ’ ‘ Those crazy berserkes. Always want to take on the newest though guys. Mind follow me? ’ I look at him and in a dazze followed him up the stairs and into a rather modern building. Light oak walls and glass walls. Computers and offices. Somebody was pulling my leg.
‘ I thought this was Valhalla.. this looks more like some IKEA office ’ I worked in one for a summer, Leif smirked as he opened the door to his office. ‘ we get that a lot. Want anything to drink? Mead? ale? beer? Or do you prefer coffee or soft drinks? We got booth Coke and Pepsi. Since they have the war you know. ’ It was apparently some house jokes because I didn ’ t get it. ‘ Eh Coke? ’ He opened a cabinet witch was also a freezer and gave me a can. ‘ Sitt and let me fill you in. ‘
I sat down. ‘ Before we start, I think there must been a mistake. First off I ’ m not a warrior and I don ’ t believe in these or any gods for that matter. ’
‘ Ahh so that ’ s where we start. You not a warrior? Never been on the battlefield? ‘ He looked at his screen as he sat down. ‘ When you were 15 your best friend came out of as gay. You stud by his side when the he got kicke out of his home, you got beaten up 15 times just for being his friend. Never hit back. That ’ s bravery. And then the good stuff. Two years ago you joined something called reddit? ’ He looked at me smiling. ‘ Never have anybody fought harder for dignity and friendship. How many religious men have you debated and won over? How many political debates have you been in and won? And even historical ones? ’
‘ wait I ’ m here because I debated on Reddit? ’
|
[ MP ] This is Water
| I only agreed to meet him for old times sake. We had been friends once. In high school we were inseparable. We hung out together all the time. Scott's views on the world were never my own though, and that eventually drove us apart.
He asked me to meet him at the park. He did n't need to say another word. I knew what park he meant. I walked the short distance and was there early.
Tracy was swinging her kids. Mr. Daniels was in his usual place on the bench. I expected at any moment that Derek would appear and ask me for spare change.
Scott came over the top of the hill, looking much as he always had. Little had changed about him. He approached the picnic table I perched atop and grinned. `` Hey brother,'' he said as he wrapped his arms around me. I returned the hug awkwardly. I had not seen this man in over 30 years.
He had always been overbearing. Pushy, even. Always needing me to agree with whatever he said. I was no longer that person. Something he was about to learn.
He took a seat next to me and lit a joint. Passing it to me, he said exactly what I was expecting all along.
`` I need some help, man.''
I took a hit and passed it back to him. `` What kind of help?'' I asked.
`` I need an alibi,'' he said quietly, as if there was someone near enough to hear.
`` No, Scott,'' I said. `` I am not giving you that kind of help.''
`` C'mon, man,'' he laughed evilly. `` We are brothers.''
I was pissed now. After all this time, nothing had changed. He still expected me to help him in this way.
`` Scott,'' I began. `` I am not going to do this for you. You need to get your life together. Change your direction!''
`` C'mon bro!'' he stammered.
`` No, Scott. I ca n't even believe you would think I would do this for you after all these years. Every one of us has a story. We all have challenges. You just keep taking the easy way out.''
`` You want to know about people?'' He fumed. `` I know all about people.''
`` Do you now?'' I asked.
He pointed across the way to Tracy. `` Let me tell you about that bitch. Has a bunch of kids, lives off welfare. See that old man? Fucking bum. Never worked a day in his life.''
`` You think so, do you?'' I asked, my rage building.
`` Oh and look at this sorry fucker,'' he pointed to Derek shambling towards us.
It was at that moment I decided the bonds that held us had just broken. He knew nothing about these people. Nothing about me. Not anymore. I tried to keep my voice from trembling.
`` That woman,'' I said. `` Had it all. A loving husband. I nice home. Everything a person could ever wish for. It all came crashing down around her when her husband died in Afghanistan.''
`` That man on the bench? He used to own the Pizza Ranch. He had the world by the balls. Then his wife was diagnosed with cancer. He gave it all up to pay her medical bills. It was n't enough. She passed away. He gave up.''
Nothing you can say will ever change that for them. That is their life. I will not let you diminish it with your bullshit.
`` This man,'' I indicated the forlorn figure of Derek. He looked like a zombie. `` He was successful too. Until he lost his wife and daughter in a car accident. He was driving. What the fuck to you think *that* does to a guy?''
I rose from the picnic table. `` Truth is, Scott. You do n't know jack shit.'' I walked towards Tracy and her children.
Something compelled me to turn back one last time.
`` You never did.''
|
[ WP ] You 've never fully died . Each time you draw your last breath , you 're revived . The catch ? Each time is different . You may be a different age , have a different family , or you may even be in a different century . Nothing is consistent aside from you ... .and her .
| How long ago was the first time? I do n't know for sure. She fell from the sky and I chased her.
Things were simpler back then. No demons or fell beasts attacking at any moment, nor quests for the fate of the world. Just me and her, together.
We never remember each other, nor all that we meant to one another; not really. But we always cross paths, and she is always stunning.
And almost always, *he* is there, too. The three of us, locked in a cycle of death and rebirth.
Courage, Wisdom, and Power. The Hero, The Princess, and The Demon King.
|
[ WP ] Every time someone thinks about somebody else , the said person is notified .
| The silence is deafening. After everything we ’ ve been through together. I know that when you check next time you ’ ll see that I spent all night awake thinking about you. Not for the first time either. You ’ re probably asleep now and I should be too, but what if you ’ re not? What if your dreams are just about to turn to me?
& nbsp;
I decide to brew another cup of cocoa and put off sleep for half an hour more. I ’ m glad that at least you can ’ t see what I ’ m thinking *about* except that it involves you. Then again, maybe I ’ m not. Maybe it ’ d jog your memory if you could relive the scenes that are playing over and over in my head tonight. The places we went, the people we used to know, all of those quiet nights curled up together in our own private world.
& nbsp;
I wonder who you're thinking about if not me. Things were so much easier when it was impossible to know the minds of others. You can imagine anything you like to fill a blank space. Now we can be certain how much people care about us – or don ’ t. The silence is deafening.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
& nbsp;
[ Come visit my sub! ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/Herd_of_Birds )
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[ WP ] Click 'Random Subreddit ' and research the random one you found and write it down , but like a Victorian explorer writing in his journal .
| *June 15, 1731*
It is one day past June's first fortnight that I have landed on the shores of a peculiar island. It is raining, the pattering familiar to my homeland, and it is forcing me to seek seclusion in my cabin. With me is a crew of fifteen, a sturdy group of fair haired lads from Northhamptonshire. It is this land where my home is as well. Where my children frolic in the pastures, playful and imaginative. I miss them, but I missed the sea more, and thus I am here. I will wait until overmorrow to explore. The rain is torrential.
*June 17, 1731*
There are natives of this land. I suspect them to be American, as were the Indians of previous explorations. They seem to have some sort of culinary fascination. From the undergrowth half my men and I spotted them cooking. There seemed to be a group of them; each strongly built, each wearing strange eggshell caps. Half were preparing a meal, half were watching with intrigue. I plan to enter the camp tomorrow.
*June 18, 1731*
I gathered nine of my men and I and we entered the village of these indigenous people. There was a fearful outbreak of violence, and one of my men were killed. It seemed to have been an iron skewer that took his life. The chief of these peoples, or as he calls himself, `` The Chef,'' offered peace soon after the dispute. The murderer was put to death, that swine. The peoples proceeded to cook the man. A few were asking questions as to how to prepare him. The others answered.
*June 25, 1731*
It has been about a week since I entered this strange habitat with my men. We have been greeted with warmth and respect since the fatal confrontation of our initial introduction. The Chef invited us to join his ranks of Questioners, who seemed to be persons of a rather inquisitive state, given their names. We began asking any questions regarding how to cook food. It seemed to be the focal point of the civilization's culture. The Questioners prepared meals that tasted like the rear end of a sparrow, but their mentors made up for it. I suppose they'll learn, but I am not prepared to stick around long enough to witness this. My country needs me, as well as the news of this interesting land. I will leave by moonhigh on Friday.
*June 30, 1731*
My men are all dead. They have suffered at the hands of these savages. Rumor had spread among my people that they witnessed our simple ways of cooking a dead grouse, and saw it punishable by death. I managed to flee from their wrath, but all my people were killed via superheated spatula. I grief for them and their families. As I departed the island alone, I wept bitterly, and sung of the nation of England's anthem. I shall return to the queen and have these people executed.
**Random Sub: ** [ r/askculinary ] ( http: //reddit.com/r/askculinary )
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[ WP ] After you die , you expected an afterlife or either Heaven , or Hell . Instead you find yourself standing in front of a pub named 'Purgatorio . '
| As I lay on the floor cold and shaking, I feel my life fading away. I think back on everything I did and take note that I've done nothing wrong to deserve hell's flame but Im no saint either to be welcomed into the pearly gates. And so I wait. Accepting whichever fate, I've been given. I close my eyes, nearing death and a white light flashes into my vision. Death has snatched me. I'm found standing on my feet, feeling lighter and free of pain and all that bears negativity. As I gather where my surroundings is, I look up to see a pub reading'Purgatorio'. In a haze of confusion, I curiously walked towards it as if my feet had a mind of its own. I look through the window to see a bartender cleaning glassware. I walk inside asking how did I end up here and where is everyone. The man hands me a card. On it, reads `` welcome to a place of uncertainty. Where you are here to determine whether you go to Heaven or Hell. Make it worth your while. ``... To Be Continued.
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[ WP ] You know that you 're going to die tomorrow . Today , you 're spending time with your best friend , the person who will kill you tomorrow .
| We started working through the bottle of fine Scotch when the last light remained in the summer sky. Now a canopy of stars hung over us and the whiskey sloshed around, about a third of the way down the bottle. Max was already facedown in the grass, undoubtedly trying his hardest to resist a trip to the treeline to relieve himself. Reluctantly, he crawled to the bottle and poured himself another finger of the drink. I admired his focus as he screwed the bottle shut with the tips of his fingers, then collapsed face first into the picnic cloth.
`` To the man who knows every fucking thing!'' he droned
`` Aye'' I said quietly.
`` Must....drive you mad?''
`` In a manner, yes''
Ah dear Max, still managing a remarkable level of empathy. It's what endeared him to me now. I poured myself two more fingers. `` What's on your mind, mate?'' I asked as I sipped my drink, the prospect of lying down on the grass suddenly seeming a lot more practical.
`` Money... need some fuckin' money I do. Gim me some lottery numbers?''
I grinned `` Where I see it from, your money is already gotten and spent, with little consequence.''
`` Bastard! I must be like..a nothing to you, mate.''
I did n't reply. He was right. Nothing meant much when you knew everything and for all time. `` I enjoy drinking with you, pal'' I offered, half heartedly.
`` Fuck off, mate. You're here for old times sake. Well, make....make knowing you worth it for me then? A...'' a loud burp `` party... parting gift?''
`` You'll kill me tomorrow, no one will suspect you. The guilt will consume the rest of your life''
Max moves surprisingly quickly for a man in a drunken stupor. The first punch knocks me on my back. Another three and I'm seeing stars, my universe is nothing but pain.
`` Stop!'' I plead.
`` Enough. Enough of your fucking holier-than-thou, condescending bullshit. What've you done with your....gift, aye? Feed the... poor? Clothe the....naked? What? You're still an insufferable, smug twat like you always was.''
I struggled to open my eyes but the lids would n't budge.
`` No Max. The problem is no matter what I do, I know it's for naught. It means nothing. It's all... I know how it ends.''
`` Well, make it a bloody fun ride then.''
`` I ca n't have fun Max. There is no meaning in anything. It all means nothing. Besides, you'll kill me tomorrow. It does n't matter''
I lay quiet as I felt a handful of mud thrown on my chest, then another, each accompanied by a curse, `` Cunt! Bastard! You're right, I'm gon na take a piss then come back and do you in''
He did n't have to. The little venomous critter so greatly disturbed and displaced by Max's outburst crawled out of the mud and onto my neck. I barely noticed the sting. The swelling spread from the bite bursting into all the tissue of my neck. Ordinarily, this dose of poison was not fatal, but my immune system was on full alert trying to control the swelling in my face. The toxin in the poison used my own system to amplify it's effect. The muscles in my neck and throat started squeezing my own windpipe. The toxin By the time Max came back from his leisurely piss, I was turning blue. He did n't notice for a full four minutes. I was brain dead when he called for an ambulance. I bit the bullet on the way to the ER, Max was sobbing in a corner of the ambulance, still clutching the bottle of whiskey.
The coroner declared time of death to be 12.23 am.
|
[ FF ] A Duel of Magic
| I apologize, this is definitely a lot more than 500 words ( ~900 ) but I got a bit carried away and I thought that you guys might enjoy it anyways
Mika put her hands on her knees, panting, and looked around her. She'd stumbled into a small clearing surrounded by young trees, with the sun filtering through.
`` You're good at running. Not a very typical characteristic of a combat magician, but you were always... different.''
Mika froze as her rival, Xander stepped out of the darkness in the other side of the clearing. The two were polar opposites:
Xander was a tall, thin man, with an unnerving smile. While the normal person would assume he was a weakling, he had proved them wrong again and again with his skill at manipulating the elements. He always wore a black trenchcoat which seemed to absorb light and always walked as quietly as a shadow.
Mika was what one might call a paladin or a spellsword, except without the heavy armor. She was a slight woman who wore white healers robes. As a child, she'd mastered the art of healing and protective magic, but had more recently learned the summoning minor creatures and elemental magic. As good as she was at elemental magic, Xander was infinitely better but her talent at healing magic meant that she would last a lot longer in a fight than most magicians
`` You know, Mika, why did you run? You could never outrun me''
`` Because I did n't want to fight you Xander. We were friends once, remember?''
Xander's expression turned sad, `` Yes, I do. You were the greatest friend I ever had. Why did you save that sorcerer? You knew that the penalty would be death''
`` I could n't stand by and watch someone die. You know that.''
`` I do, but I can not fight you and leave you here, injured, to die''
Mika's face brightened just a little bit, `` You would not fight me, then?''
`` I will, but people will remember what will happen today, and you. I swear it.'' With that, Xander began to chant, Mika backing away as he began to chant but she hit a clear wall.
`` Xander, what have you done!?''
`` I did not expect you to understand. Right now, everyone in the kingdom can see us, about to do battle.''
Mika nodded, `` Our world stage, just what we always wanted as children.''
`` Yes. The world will remember us for this''
They spoke together in unison, `` Let the world see what it has done, and what we are about to do!''
They began to chant, invoking old powers and memories of what had been and what might be. Mika, now glowing with a golden regenerative aura and holding a silvery swirling mist, and Xander floated, wearing a crown of fire, icy hands, and a ring of precious gems floating around him, the wind weaving in and out.
Mika: `` Shall we dance, friend of my heart?''
Xanders eyes glittered, `` Of course''
And with that, they flew at each other, leaping with a swiftness before unknown to mortals and magicians alike, aided by the winds.
The first exchange was quick, fleeting, almost just a flash of light. Mika landed seemingly unharmed, her aura glowing brighter than ever. Xander did not seem to fare as well however, a silver burn the size of an apple on his left forearm. He was not fazed, as water flowed to his arm, covering it. A blue gem melted into the water, making it glow and his arm was whole once again.
Mika raised her hand and blasted a silver mist at Xander, but he blasted air and it dissipated. In response, he breathed fire on his gems and began firing them at Mika.
She summoned a swarm of insubstantial birds, but they were not enough to stop the barrage. As her aura bore the attack, it began to shimmer, become glassy, and shatter, causing her to cover her face with her hands out of reflex
Xander flew at Mika, but instead of attacking her, he enveloped her in the rings of elements that he had summoned and took her hands. She looked at him in surprise, `` Why, Xander?''
`` Because I made a promise to myself, back when we were children, that I would protect you to the best of my ability.''
Her eyes filled with tears, `` You too?''
He nodded and she hugged him, surrounding them both in gold light. `` I can not make myself fight you anymore Mika.''
`` Xander...'' As they spoke, their bodies began to glow, Mika's aura absorbing Xander's gems and granting it a rainbow shimmer. Xander embraced Mika and as he did, they again spoke in unison, delivering a message to the world:
*You who see what you have done*
*Our two is one, forever shining*
*Our life's fire not spent in hiding*
*To be companions evermore*
*In your tales of yore*
They stood there, holding each other as their arena shattered in a burst of light, and in the center of the clearing where they once stood, a statue appeared. It depicted a man and woman embracing, and shone with blue and red and green and white with an almost cosmic quality.
For those who found it years later, they recalled the tale of the two lovers who chose to spend an eternity with each other in the forest than to obey the land which made them fight.
It was said that you could sometimes catch a glimpse of them together, holding hands and smiling.
Together, for all eternity
|
[ WP ] Technology has advanced to the point where TV/movie sets are fully constructed cities filled with people bred into their roles . You have just been made aware of this fact and that you are destined to die in an upcoming arc of the show you are a part of .
| Edit: I do n't know why it has bolded areas, please forgive formatting errors, I do n't know how to fix them.
I work at the library here in New Fauxville. Most people do n't bother reading here, in fact in the course of my life I can not recall a single person stepping through the doors of the library.
One day, though, Student Mark and his friends came, but they have n't been back since. They used blank textbooks and sat at a table for an hour, and spent that time talking about girls, and plans, and such. I do n't think they actually studied.
Anyways, I guess there's just something about books, that just drags me into them, almost as though I have to read them to live.
After reading so much, the world started to look dull. Things were n't as depicted in the stories I had read. I would look outside and see smiling faces, cheery gardens, and bright sunshine filtering betwixt immobile trees. Automobiles would trundle down cobble streets, and the bustle of the city would echo around me. Oh there's Student Mark now, and his friends in the detectives club, going to a cafe.
Something felt off.
The thing is, books have a lot of information in them. That is how I found out what a telescope was. When I look up at the night sky, there is a startling lack of stars. The same plastered, phase-less moon greets me each night. Clouds do not move, and I do n't think it has ever rained here in the city.
According to the books I have read, that should not be the case. Are the stars just too far away to see right now? Have they died out without our noticing? I decided I needed to know.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
`` Shit,'' the head writer of the'Detective Mark' show exclaimed. `` He's going to figure it out. We need to take out the librarian. Tie it in with next weeks episode.''
The office buzzed and began writing the new episode.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
Student Mark and his friends burst through the doors. `` Hey Librarian Bob, seen anyone around here recently?''
Flustered I replied, `` Er-er no, I have n't seen anyone around since you all came by two years ago.''
Student Mark turned and conferred with Token Friend Phil. `` It seems the arsonist has n't come inside during working hours.''
He turned back to me. `` Mind if we look around for some clues, ya know detective club business n' all.''
I gestured forward, and they looked around. I turn back to continue my exposition. Wait who was I talking to? Ah it does n't matter. Anyways, I'm going to build a telescope and find the stars.
*click* The lens fell into place, and Librarian Bob knelt to look through the telescope pointed out the window of his library.
*whoosh* Fire sprang to life in the stacks of books a few shelves over.
Librarian Bob was very confused. He refocused the lens and took another look. What he saw scared him. He was looking directly into the living room of a family. Looks of shock spread across the faces of the people sitting on the couch. The father fumbled his beer, and the mother dropped her bowl of popcorn.
Librarian Bob stumbled back, tripping over a pile of books, and directly into the roaring flames behind him. Pain lanced through his body, and every part of him screamed, but he could not move. As he began to close his eyes, blinding lights flashed before him. Ahhhh there are the stars, he though, right as he collapsed into unconsciousness.
Student Mark, and his friends raced to the blazing library. Firemen stood outside, confused, fearful, and worried.
`` Student Mark! Help us,'' the Fire Chief Phil shouted. `` What do we do?!''
Student Mark sprang into action, attaching the fire-hose to the nearby fire hydrant. Pulling the lever, water sprayed out in a massive geyser.
A few hours later, the smoldering remains of the library were all that was left.
`` You've saved the city once again Student Mark,'' Fire Chief Phil sighed. `` It's a shame that Librarian Bob did n't make it out of the building before she went up eh?''
`` You're right Chief. Damn shame. Means I need to catch this arsonist'afore he kills anyone else.'' Student Mark, and his friends began looking for clues.
*Will Student Mark catch the criminal before he kills anyone else? Find out next week on the Detective Mark Show! *
|
[ WP ] You have grown up with the ability to tell the future ; but only useless information . One day you see a person killed .
| This is rather dark and kind of monstrous in size. I think it contains triggers, so read at your own risk.
I only like coffee that's been drowned in sugar by shaking hands. It's too bitter otherwise, too thickly layered on the tip of my tongue. I ca n't stand it without the sugar, but I ca n't tell when I've woken up without the coffee.
When I was little, with the knobby knees and checkered jumpers you read about in stories, I was n't crazy, or if I was, I was n't ostracized for it. Now, when I walk down the street, people avoid me, avoid me like they're doing now, and there's not a thing I can do to stop it.
When I walk down the street, people back away from the girl with circles under her eyes and scratches on her arms. They pull their children out of arm's reach of me, and I just want to tell them it's not my fault.
But it is, is n't it? I did n't take the medicine my mother tried to force down my throat. The second I was eighteen, I got out of those therapy sessions, out of that house, out of the only place I could have possibly been fixed.
I do n't regret it, though. Even my life as a shadow of all the things I could have been is better than my life in drugged-up haze.
I see things, you see. Rubbish things like what the lady in apartment 2A is having for dinner or which bus her husband takes to see his mistress. I never see the important parts, the part where the lady in apartment 2A chokes on her dinner role or the part where the husband changes his mind halfway there and goes home to his wife and three kids. I ca n't help it, anymore than I can help having dark hair.
I'm almost to the grocery when the latest vision hits me. Or at least, I think it's a vision; I have n't had my coffee yet. The force of it hits me like a runaway train, plastering me to the wall of the grocery and pushing my hair away from my face. In it, there's a knife and a bathtub and a girl, and the blood slicks the floor up like a water slide from her limp, spaghetti wrists.
At the grocery, I do n't buy the sugar I so badly needed two minutes ago. I do n't even go inside, just loiter at the sliding doors for a few minutes while I try to catch the breath that's running a marathon out of my lungs. The girl- she looked like me, did n't she? Like me, with all my hair chopped off. And- and that tattoo on her hip, that's mine, is n't it?
My feet are like anvils while I walk back to my apartment. They make tracks in the snow in the ground, marking out the only place I've been in the last six months. Recently, the visions have gotten so bad that I have n't left my apartment, not for anything but sugar and coffee. I've gotten so thin, my ribs are poking out like kittens under my sweater.
The vision- if it was me, does that mean- no, it could n't be. I only see unimportant things after all, and death is important, is n't it? It's right there at the top of the list.
But if the vision was me, I'd just be prolonging the agony, would n't I? Because my death would be unimportant, just a tiny little blip on the radar, mattering just about as much as eating eggs-and-bacon or steak-and-potatoes. That is to say, mattering not at all.
My apartment is drafty by the time I get back, riddled with little pockets of cold that you ca n't help walking into every five seconds. When I get there, I'm leaning against the door, capsized under the weight of my life. I'm crying, you see, but there's no one there to hear me.
My hair comes off in three little snips of the safety scissors, and now it's uneven and choppy. I do n't mind. In fact, I kind of like it.
The next part is harder. The bathtub takes forever to fill up, and I just have to sit on the toilet the whole time, the knife clenched hard inside my fingers. But after the bathtub has filled up, it's all too easy, a slice on each wrist and I'm drifting away into this great, black nothingness.
I hear sirens, and I think, maybe, for once, my vision was wrong.
But my hopes are shattered when they storm right by my apartment door and up to apartment 2A, where the lady is choking on her dinner role.
|
[ WP ] In the weeks and days before your death , things around you ( like appliances , electronics ) stop working one by one .
| Mike takes his toaster into the electronics store. The man behind the counter smiles at him.
`` What can I help you with today?''
`` My toaster does n't work.''
`` Well, I'm going to plug it in, and we'll have a look.''
He does, and it appears to work correctly.
`` Sorry, was there some other problem with it?''
`` No, it did n't work at all for me. I plugged it into working outlets too.''
The man looks away from him. Mike is confused.
`` What's wrong?''
`` I do n't want to alarm you, but this is often the first sign. I've been wrong before, so I do n't want to say for certain, but I think you should see a doctor.''
***
Mike waits in the doctor's office. The doctor sees him. The same usual questions. He asks about his mental health because nothing seems wrong with him. He does n't tells him about the thoughts that haunt him, that his life is worthless or that death is appealing.
`` Come back in a week. If it's worse, we'll get you started on an antidepressant.''
But it's never wrong. Once it's started, it does n't stop.
***
One week later, the problem is far worse. His computer does n't work. Nor does his phone. He stops contacting people. It continues to worsen. The stove and microwave stop working as does his car. He knows it's hopeless. He does n't get out of bed. He does n't go to the doctor. The harbinger is never wrong.
People knock on his door. He does n't answer. Not even lights seem to work. Even in the day, he is surrounded by darkness. He finds a shirt and makes a noose out of it. There is no escaping it now. He ties it around his neck, and the other end he ties to the shower. He holds his breath and drops his feet out from under him. He falls.
The shower head breaks and falls in his lap. The lights in the bathroom turn on. He stands wanders into his bedroom. His phone works as does his computer and tablet. Mike checks his toaster. It works. He eats a piece of toast with some butter. He has 27 missed calls and hundreds of text messages. He opens his front door. His family and friends stand before him. They rush and hug him.
`` Is this heaven?''
`` No, you're alive.''
`` It's never wrong.''
`` Rarely, it is.'' Says Mike's sister. `` There's been six failed attempts.''
`` Failed attempt?'' The shirt and shower head still hang around his neck. His sister unties it and drops it to the ground. Mike starts to cry. He hugs her hard.
`` You're going to be okay.''
He realizes that she's right.
***
If you like this story, I also have a subreddit [ r/nickkuvaas ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/nickkuvaas/ )
|
[ WP ] Write about a person in law enforcement who works in a city full of superheroes and supervillains .
| The oaf next to me kept drumming his fingers on the dashboard. Normally I would n't have been annoyed, I'm a fairly patient man, but he was a super and was actually beginning to dent the plastic.
He called himself Strong Arm and that lent to his propensity to make lame jokes, such as referring to our duo as The Strong and Long Arms of the law... Moron. But, I had to deal with this idiot for the next few months. Superheros and Villains had begun cropping up across the world, a feature that most people attributed to a slow and sure technological singularity. We were tampering in fields we did n't comprehend, in physics, biology, and human anatomy. At first the powers were small, faster reflexes, light manipulation, or talking to animals. Back in those days anyone with superpowers, hero or villain, who used them in public would be arrested for disturbing the peace. The police of the world still outnumbered them and had the skill to take them in. However, more impressive powers started slowly manifesting themselves. It was around the time of the first few telepaths that our fair city passed The Superhero Integration Act. Or as my “ partner ” called it The Big Deal.
The Big Deal recognized that ordinary cops could n't fight super-villains who could rip their minds and bodies to shreds and acknowledged the need for superheros. It was agreed, superheros could interfere so long as they had basic police training. In return no one in law enforcement would pry into their secret identities. Ultimately, this meant we could hold them to the same standards as regular police men, excessive force and vigilante justice were n't allowed.
Unfortunately, this also meant someone had to train these loose cannons. And so I was stuck, in a stakeout in a dark alley sitting next to this costumed buffoon. He was your stereotypical man with super-strength: all brawn, no brain. He was also taking every available chance to annoy me. He had already challenged me to 5 games of eye spy, 3 renditions of his origin story ( each more fantastic than the last, ) and polished off a box of donuts and 3 cups of coffee.
Needless to say I was relieved when a guy approached the building we were watching. He was wearing a trench-coat and a cowl. He walked straight up to the door, looked around, unlocked it, and entered swiftly.
“ Alright, follow my lead, and do n't do anything unless I say so. ” We got out of the car quietly and headed up to the door. Finding it had been relocked I whispered that he should quietly attempt to pull it out of it's frame. While the wrenching the steel hinges was a little louder than I wanted it was still quiet enough for us to enter unnoticed. I drew my gun and flashlight and he lowered his Kevlar face-mask. Normally I disapproved of his outlandish costume, but I had to admit I wished I had more than a simple vest.
After a quick and silent search of the dark first floor we ascended the stairs to the second floor. I motioned for him to check the room at the top of the landing while I went down the corridor. Leaning around the door frame I saw the suspect rummaging through a trunk at the far side of the room. I took a deep breath and raised the gun. I swung around the door frame and pointed the flashlight right at him.
“ TURN AROUND! HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! ” At the same time as the man turned round I heard a clattering from the other room. I found out later my intrepid partner had been startled and tripped. Our suspect got up, put his hands in the air, smiled and opened his mouth.
PAIN. Horrible pain in my head. Despite the week we had spent investigating this guy we had apparently missed something. The fucker was a super, more specifically a sonic super. His hypersonic scream hit me square in the face, knocking me back, chipping paint off the wall behind me, and leaving me with no sense of balance.
As I stumbled around he got up and started approaching me.
Suddenly, the adjacent wall disintegrated, and despite the blood coming from my ears and I swear I could hear the “ O YEA ” of the Kool-Aid man, Strong Arm burst through it. Confused the sonic screwball turned to face the new threat only to be hit with an uppercut that sent him sailing. It was about this point that my stomach took a turn for the worse.
After an unhealthy bit of retching I looked up to see Strong Arm standing over me with a worried expression on his face. He mouthed something about whether I was ok, but I was more interested in where our suspect was and tried to say so, my voice curiously muffled in my head. He pointed to the far side of the room at a broken window. I stumbled over and looked out.
Two stories below, sprawled on the pavement, lay our perp, his neck bent backwards. Strong Arm's punch had sent him flying through the window. Strong Arm looked sheepish.
“ Wow. ” I warbled, “ Well then, are you ready to learn another part of being a cop? ”
He looked at me worriedly, and nodded. I grimaced and said, “ Incident reports. ”
|
[ WP ] The Monarchist Party has won the Elections ; The Republic is Dead , Long Live the King .
| My Hand was shaking so hard that I almost spilled my wine on my couch.
The election results had just been published and I coudl n't believe what I saw on the screen.
Julius Sutton, from from this day called His Majesty King Julius I, had won in a landslide victory.
Before the election, dozens of discussions were aired on TV on why Sutton was even allowed to run with these goals and how big his chances were to win. The Socialists were Suttons most vigorous opponent, naturally, but the other parties mostly just derided him for even wasting energy and money on this ridiculous endeavor of becoming king of this Country.
Nobody would vote for this man.
The conservative party was confident of victory like for the last three legislative periods they won and focused on defaming the liberal party just like they did to them.
Then the latest pre-election polls were published and everything changed. Suddenly everybody except Suttons supporters became really scared.
What the fuck happened? Nobody could explain. Why did so many people vote for this crazy professor who thought he could become king of a democratic country?
Political scientists and social scientists tried to find answers, but they were n't satisfying. Only when they started to ask ordinary people on the streets it dawned on them. People were just fed up with the arbitrary governance of the leading coalition for the last decade.
What if Sutton was right with his - and even I as a strong advocate of democracy had to agree with some - reasonable arguments?
What if this country really was better off with this man on the top instead of the self-enriching, nepotism-pursuing government that got things into a mess for the last 12 years?
We were about to find out.
Julius Sutton was a 60 Year old former professor of political sciences, a small and thin man with short grey hair, and judging by his glasses, if his eyesight would have been a little worse, he would have been blind. But he eradiated a certain kind of sympathy and competence and the people seemed to trust him. For the last 12 years the ruling coalition did n't change and got more and more impertinent. Many people went on the streets to protest against social injustice but they still got elected again.
And suddenly this man stepped out of the darkness and declared he had the solution to our problems. The problems our government caused due to incompetence and corruption. Sutton gained a high number of supporters tremendously fast, he striked the right tone, he sensed people finally got fed up with their leaders' empty promises. I also went on the streets to protest but I would never vote for a monarchy because I believed in democratic principles. And now it happened. A King had been democtratically elected. I sat in front of the TV and was speechless. The TV announcers also did n't really know what to do other than make awkward jokes.
But then, breaking news were announced. The former coalition refused to step down to give the office to an absolutist and claimed to be destined to their democratic duties.
Shortly after Julius Sutton appeared on the screen, behind him were gathered thousands of peole to support their new king. With a calm voice he stated that he wanted to solve this conflict of interests peacefully but he would embrace his elected rights to rule this country, and his followers cheered. But not only King Julius I had many people behind him, the conservatives, the liberals and the socialists had joined forces to prevent the seizure of power by this man, and their followers also cheered with supporting chants.
It all happened really fast. Crowds of people on the streets appeared on my TV, on one side the monarchists, on the other side the democrats. On some places they already had begun to build street barricades and to throw stones and molotov cocktails at each other.
Law enforcement was far from prepared to cope with these riots on the day of the election, they were hopelessly outnumbered. And also in their rows emerged conflict. Should they show loyalty for their new supreme commander or should they defend the democracy they had sworn to protect?
Spellbound I followed the events on TV. The first dead bodies appeared on the streets, chaos had erupted everywhere. I could n't believe this happened so fast. We drifted towards the edge of a civil war. Or were we already deep inside one?
I sat on my couch and did n't know what to do. Should I go out and join the lines against an absolutistic monarchy?
But this man was elected by the people. What if Sutton really was the solution to our gridlock, what if he really would make the best decidions for our country?
I got up and stood in front of the TV, motionless.
Then I decided to have some more wine and walked to the fridge.
|
[ WP ] It 's December , and you 've just died in a car crash . You try to talk God into reviving you , so you can watch The Force Awakens .
| # Final Episode #
`` I do n't blame You for the car crash. Or for dying. I mean'' Brent shrugged `` it happens, does n't it? But I admit, I'm having some trouble getting past somethings.''
God walked over slowly. He slid down the non-existent wall that was a part of the sea of white next to Brent, drawing up his knees like the newly arrived soul next to him.
`` Oh?''
He did n't sound like anyone Brent had heard before. It was a pleasant voice. You did n't get tired of it. Brent glanced at God. That still felt weird. *Seeing* God. Though he tried, he could n't quite find the words to describe Him. Maybe he'd left them back on earth. Or maybe they did n't exist.
`` Do n't take that the wrong way. I'm glad to... glad to be here, it's just...'' He sighed, and shook his head. `` I feel so stupid.''
`` Go ahead.''
`` Well....I was really looking forward to Star Wars... the new one that's coming out. Have you heard about it?... oh, right, course You have....just did n't know if You kept tabs on that kind of....anyways, I uh... I was really excited to see it... really excited...''
God nodded. So strange.
`` I understand. But You must realize, what awaits you over there'' he gestured towards the expanse of white `` Star Wars is *nothing* compared to that.''
Brent nodded eagerly. `` Oh I'm sure, I'm sure You're right, I mean, of course You're right... is... is my wife over there?''
God shook his head. So strange.
`` You'll have to find that out for yourself. Either way, it wo n't matter.''
`` I'll take Your word on that... I mean, of course I'll take Your word on that, I mean, I guess, Your *Word*, as the case may be... I...'' He let out a shaky breath. `` Is everyone who talks to You so nervous?''
`` Down there? No. Up here'' There was something bittersweet in His smile. `` Every single time.''
Brent nodded. They were quite for a few minutes. Was that strange? To just sit in silence with God? There was always so much noise surrounding God; the prayers of the faithful, the hymns of angels, the thunder of divine might. How could He just sit here now, with Brent of all people, and not make a sound? How could Brent be so muted, sitting next to the Almighty Creator?
`` She was one reason I wanted to see the new Star Wars.'' Brent said, breaking the bizzare silence. `` We met at the premiere of Phantom Menace. Birds of a feather, and whatnot....we were dating by Attack of the Clones... married by the time Revenge was released.''
God looked sideways at Brent, his mouth crooked in a smile. `` Not the best movies to base a relationship on.''
Brent gave an embarrassing bark of laughter. Who knew? God had a sense of humor. Then again, that was n't so surprising. Just look at the platypus.
Brent shook his head. `` No, they were n't. She was almost in tears by the end of the second prequel. But it was n't the movies. I mean, it was what they... what they meant to us... they were there at our beginning, they were... something we both loved together. And that led to us loving each other.''
Brent turned to God, a tear running slowly down his cheek. He was n't in heaven yet, so that must still be alright. God gently raised his hand, and brushed it from his face. `` I wanted to see it for her... and maybe... maybe in some way, she'd be watching it with me, You know? Well, of course You... You know.''
God nodded, understanding. He stood, and stretched out His hand.
`` I can promise you two things, Brent. That you'll see your movie. And that you'll be indescribably happy.''
Brent studied the hand before nodding. God pulled him to his feet-so strange-and the two figures faded into the white.
|
[ WP ] You spend your while life obsessing over the zombie apocalypse . Hoarding weapons , stockpiling food , and enduring intense combat training . Then one day it finally happens ; the dead begin rising from their grave . The only problem is they are n't hostile .
| Its happening. The dead are finally rising from the grave. I stood in the graveyard, and waited, as the zombies burst through the soil. The first one stood up completely. I raised my baseball bat and ran at it, screaming. The zombie looked confused. It grabbed my bat from my hands and threw it away.
`` Woah there mate, I do n't need to be attacked the moment I wake up. I've been dead for decades, can I go a minute without people trying to give me a heart attack,''.
`` Wait, what,'' I said. The zombie chuckled a little.
`` Did you think that we would come back wanting to kill youse all? Nah, we like humans. We were humans. Now we're just coming back to life. Give us a bit of a break, huh?''. I stuttered, trying to figure out what to say. I felt a bony hand grab my shoulder.
`` He's right, dearie. No need to be afraid of us. I understand your generations obsession with zombies and sparkly vampires. My grandson particularly liked those. Huh, wonder how he is. It's been a while,''. I managed to speak.
`` You're not gon na eat me?''
`` No! I'm sorry, but you would n't be very filling from the looks of you,''. The zombie laughed. I stared wide-eyed, as around the graveyard, the zombies began rejoicing at their life, that they would be able to see their family and friends again. Several zombies were hugging each other, shouting joyfully and conversing with grins of excitement.
`` Huh,'' I said, `` This was, unexpected,''
|
[ WP ] Overpopulation has become such a problem that governments have sanctioned one mandatory legal murder per person per year . It 's December 31st and you have n't carried yours out yet .
| I can feel Susan ’ s eyes on me as I carry the plates to the kitchen sink and start rinsing them off. My hands are shaking and I have to concentrate hard on not letting the slippery ceramic slip and break.
“ Saul, ” she says gently, suddenly behind me, her warm hand on my waist. “ I know, honey. But it ’ s only today and then two more years … and then you ’ re done. ” She leans into me, the other hand slipping around my waist to hug me to her. “ Do you know how much I love you? How much I love how good you are? ” I feel her face press warmly between my shoulder blades. “ And I know much it hurts you. And that you do it for us … for me and the kids. ” I feel her squeeze me tighter. “ Three more until 65 … until Exemption, ” she murmurs into my back.
I sigh, and turn in her grasp to hug her back … fiercely. My Susan, my rock. My beautiful, practical, implacable wife – who almost always had her Compulsory done within the first few weeks of the new year. The one who had taught our children to select, to stalk and to kill with compassion and precision. The one who more often than not accompanies me, scouts for me … and even, once, against all rules, delivered a coup de grace for me. Something I could never have done.
“ Oh God, Susan … I thought it would get easier as time went on, ” I whisper, the sound almost a sob. “ But it gets worse. I can hardly bear it. ” I hug her even harder. “ It ’ s only because of you and the kids that I don ’ t just put the gun to my own head. ”
Her squeeze becomes panicky in its tightness. “ Don ’ t say that, ” she whispers fiercely. “ Don ’ t even think it. You know it ’ s just something that needs doing. And that there are so many out there worse than you. Do what you always do … what you *have* to do. Go find one of them, and get it done. For us. ”
She leans up to kiss me … and then I feel her slip the cold steel into my hand. The weight of the pistol, comfortable and despicable, fills my hand.
I sigh, and step back away from her, racking the slide to chamber a round. My hands are no longer shaking. And the familiar, sickening but now welcome coldness begins to slip over me.
“ The boundary area, by Fourth and Market? ” I ask quietly, unable to look at her. Knowing she ’ d been out this morning, scouting.
“ Yes, ” she answers as quietly. Calm and cool. “ There ’ s a loading dock in the back, a recessed area underneath. They shelter there. ”
I sigh again, and grab the keys. I take her back in my arms briefly, my kiss brief but warm. “ Be back soon. And hey – ” I kiss her again, more thoroughly this time. “ Put that champagne bottle in the fridge, why don ’ t you. ” I walk down the hallway to the front door. “ After all … it ’ s New Year ’ s Eve. ”
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[ WP ] `` Oh , no . What a shame . '' you say sarcastically as your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson died . You realize immortality has completely desensitized you . You 're the biggest asshole that ever walked on Earth .
| The heartrate monitor goes spiky. The old man's close to kicking the bucket. I lean in close for his last words.
“ Be kind, ” he says, and the monitor flatlines.
“ Hear that? ” I ask the nurse beside me. “'Be kind'? He lived eight decades and that's the best he could come up with? ” She shakes her head and does something complicated with the tubes coming out of the dead guy's mouth. I try the doctor. “ I mean, his dad had a pretty good line.'Fuck the G-men'. That's what he went out on. Was n't exactly right in the head, but at least he took a stand on something. ”
The doctor ignores me. He announces the time of death, mutters into the ear of the senior nurse, and breezes out of the room. The senior nurse grabs a clipboard, assumes a neutral expression, and comes over to talk to me.
“ But his dad's dad, that guy had class.'Women, liquor, and the open sky.' He took a bullet in a forest outside Bastogne. That's in Belgium. ”
The senior nurse looks from me to the clipboard and back, pauses a moment, then sighs and asks. “ Was he on vacation? ”
“ Yeah, him and his million closest friends were over there trying to get a good look at Berlin. ”
He frowns. “ At any rate, I've got to inform you that the patient has expired of natural causes. ”
“ They all do, eventually. ”
“ What was the nature of your relation with the deceased? ”
“ He's something like great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson. ”
“ This goes in our official records. ”
“ Good thing I'm being honest, then, eh? ” My pocket-watch, a heavy bronze piece with the name Hooke inscribed on the back, reads 3:37pm. “ I've got to be getting a move on. ”
“ Does the deceased have any other kin? ”
I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “ It was just me and him. Now it's just me.
“ Probably for the best. I've had enough kin over the years. ”
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[ WP ] You 're alone in your house . Inanimate objects start to come alive and talk to you .
| Winters are the hardest for me; it ’ s the small things. It ’ s not the biting cold that bothers me; I welcome anything that breaks the mundane stillness of this house.
No matter how many years have passed by, each time I bring up her memory the same gut wrenching feel of regret pangs at my heart. I remember the therapist telling me that there was nothing I could do for her other than to be by her side. That living, breathing, being happy for her while she was slowly decaying, withering, putting on a forced smile would help her with the process. It was part of the therapist ’ s job to say that, part of her role as it were, as it was mine to bear witness and my wife ’ s job to die. I should take comfort that we all played our part as a cog in an ornate ethereal machination. Some mystical butterfly effect where the value of her life granted a remote village bountiful rain after an accursed drought had left most of their tribe to perish. I am left to believe in magic or the hard truth that bad things always happen to good people and that she was one of the best.
In this decrepit house, I still am that witness; immobilized in despair, unable to do anything more than feel compelled to do something, to want to scream, to want to tear down the walls, to feel any kind of pain that would tear me away from his blackness. This same house that her laughter filled with such warmth that even in the rain drenched December days you ’ d swear it was summer. The same small bed that feels like a vast ocean I drown in every waking morning.
As I lay my head down on the cold slab of wood we called our dining table, where we shared far too few a meal, I swear I feel her fingers comb through my hair. I close my eyes so hard that it sounds like a storm is in my ears but I can still hear it; her laughter. It permeates through the grain of the wood until I can feel it tickle the hairs on my hand. And just like that, a rush of life gushes through this mausoleum that feels electric. My heart begins to beat so fast I feel the rush of blood getting stuck in my throat but I dare not open my eyes. Her lotion overpowers my senses and I can ’ t help but grip the table for fear that I may fall over in dizziness. ‘ She ’ s here, she ’ s here ’ the clock whispers so loudly that I can no longer hear the ticking it makes. The dusty stove top heats up a well-intentioned meal she had sworn was a passed down family secret. The smoke detector blares ‘ she ’ s lying ’ repetitiously but I don ’ t mind. I never did.
Like Orpheus I open my eyes all too early and as quickly as it came the warmth is gone. Sucked out like air in this vacuum. Having her back for even that fraction though, it makes winter a lot more bearable. It ’ s the small things.
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[ WP ] You kept seeing this trendy tattoo and decided you wanted the same . Now you 're part of the worst gang possible ... and you do n't even know it .
| A picture quite funny indeed
`` Of that with a phallus with a butt'' I decreed
And so on goes the ink
And when I decide to go drink
I have little cares
About all those who sit around and stare
Plenty of gazes in my direction
And a few people gather, quite a collection
They ask me to which chapter do I pertain
And with whom had I trained
My look turns to that of a confused child
When they told me my ink would leave me profiled
As that of a gang most sinister
But first initiation, they would administer
A test of my abilities to post
post some pictures which would be liked the most
`` Post more cat pictures or I'd regret it''
For little had I known
That gang was reddit
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[ WP ] A professional entertainment wrestler finds his life in danger when he realizes that his opponent is actually trying to harm/kill him during their televised match .
| `` DAMN that was hard, soften up'' i said to him `` ya sure buddy'' he said both of us trying not to get caught talking by the smarks. But then boom a high round house right to the top of my head and a stiff left jab sent me crumpling into the corner. Boy did that piss me off.
He went and was posing for the crowd and they were chanting along with him. I got up and was right behind him. I turned him around and gave him a solid right hand straight to his stupid bearded goat face. I'm the face of this damn company I'll show him who his daddy is. I reared back to slug him again and boom he kicked my in the front of my left knee oh my lord I think he broke it.
Wait til vinnie mac and Paul hear about this shit. I look up only to be kicked in the fuckin head again now the crowd stops chanting and starts gasping he is stomping away on me and not working stomps but like he was trying to break my ribcage. I roll out of the ring purely on survival instincts.
I manage to get back to my feet and right then I see a chair coming at my head, I duck and it wraps around the ring post where my head was seconds before. We have n't used the chair to the head in years he is really trying to hurt me not just working stiff. He rears up again I kick him in the groin as he doubles over I hop to my feet even though my knee is killing me and I boot him right in the face he goes down and I was on him like stink on shit I started waylaying on his face then the ref pulled me off where was this mother fucker earlier. I shoved the ref away just as he speared me into the barricade.
We continued to fight until he caught me with a few good ones and I fell down I almost passed out. By that time I was all cut up my knee was broken I was coughing up blood they started to realize that, that little mother fucker had snapped and was gon na kill me. He continued stomping on me working his way up to my head to finish the job i was gon na die in the fucking Sprint center in Kansas city. Then I saw a flash of red take him down turns out it was our color commentator the king I owe him my life. We were soon surrounded by trainers, agents, and wrestlers alike they restrained him til he was arrested for battery assault and attempted murder. all he was saying was YES over and over.
He tried his best to kill me but he forgot to kill a viper you have to remove the head.
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[ IP ] Teddy Bear Guardian
| ( ( This story is based on [ this image ] ( http: //s3.amazonaws.com/wootsaleimages/The_Guardian7hnDetail.png ) ) ):
Monstrosaur was, by trade, an accountant. He'd gone out with a few monster friends and they'd had fun, but they were a little low on fear juice and truth be told an evening just was n't as fun without it. On the way back home they'd passed the Scaritorium and his friends had egged him on, to go get a little extracurricular action. `` Go ahead,'' they'd said. `` It'll be fun,'' they'd said. `` Go scare some kid.''
Monstrosaur had been feeling a little down and he a little scare ought to pep him right up. `` A little bit of the ol' fear juice flowing in my veins? Nothing better to cap an evening with, right boys?'' So he'd stumbled in, signed his name, gotten his ticket and managed to get into the portal room.
He'd just manifested up through the floor and was about to make his scariest faces when he noticed something coming out from the teddy bear on the child's bed. Really? A bear guardian totem? People still used those in this day and age? People still knew how to make them? He just wanted a little scare, a little fear, he was just a bookkeeper really, he did n't know the first thing about fighting.
Great, just great. He could tell, this was going to be a fantastic fabulous evening, one for the record books. He sighed heavily. Maybe he could reverse portal back out before the bear finished manifesting?
Suddenly the bear spirit spoke up. `` Want to go halvsies on a little fear juice?''
`` You're pulling my leg.''
`` You do n't have legs yet and no, I'm not. Look, you scare her, I'll hang back, then I'll jump in, scare you off. We can keep doing it for a couple nights, you bring back half of what you got the night before each time. I'll look like a hero for getting rid of you. You'll look like a hero for getting away. We both get an easy score.''
Monstrosaur considered it. That sounded doable. Records did n't record sound or visuals, just the metaphysical aftermath. He'd be able to tell everyone that he'd taken out a bear totem and gotten away unharmed, which would give him some serious rep. He shrugged his shoulders, `` Ok, sounds like a plan.''
He finally finished portalling in and got ready to scare the little girl when the bear finished manifesting. The bear shook himself, reached out with a massive paw, and slammed Monstrosaur's head down on the floor. `` I lied. Nobody messes with my little girl.''
> There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist.
> [ More by me ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/ )
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[ WP ] A centuries old immortal hero takes a seat at a bar , unknowingly next to his life long rival .
| **Gobshak's Tavern, Pontix Junction**
The sun cast the last of its burning light across the great waste, slowly sinking behind the monstrosity that is the hive city Morboro. Hundreds of sky skimming spires and smoke stacks cast long reaching shadows out over the great waste, a continent sized ocean of flat nothing coated in ash. The toxic, grey ash was the byproduct of Morboro's famous industrial years when the only concern was producing the most weapons and ammunition for Empirical forces.
The humming of an old solar generator sputtered and coughed as its hungry cells began to lose the light. Just then, the screech of a starter motor announced the wakening of a rothium gas engine which would continue to turn the generator to supply power to the small tavern.
It was a pleasant sound and one with which Ancid Fawsha relaxed to every evening with a cold glass of liquor. Leaning back in the hard steel chair and ignoring the terrible singing of the impaired locals he admired the setting sun and the way it made Morboro seem a little less dead.
The individual sitting beside him had turned to admire the setting sun as well but her mind was elsewhere.
**Hive Morboro**
A gleaming beacon of Empirical power and industry in the Kilbis System. The streets were as densely packed with workers and machines as the sky above was with pollutants and ash. In fact the city itself was so polluted its populace was forced into similar garb as that of the distant expeditionary forces in hostile environments.
Where Morboro was renowned for its groundbreaking work with machine and fire the land surrounding the city for many a kilometer was equally famous for its lack of life. A great barren wasteland of several inches of ash which settled like recently fallen snow and coated the earth from horizon to horizon.
Though, this did n't bother the occupants of Morboro. For as toxic as it got they were happy. There was a lot of money in the city. Besides, they had the great Black Stone Fortress watching over them from Mount Korbalis and never feared pirates or marauders.
However, that was well over two hundred years ago...
These days ’ people call it the Grey City and very few know its old name. Most people avoid it like ashrot and who could blame them? After the reactors cracked and began flooding the city with radiation it became completely uninhabitable and Empirical rule condemned the city forcing a mass exodus.
Everyone who was n't dead ( or a mutated abomination ) had been evacuated. Well, almost everyone anyways. Of course, no one cares for the millions that made up the underhive working class or gutter scum. So when the call to evacuate was announced it… did n't quite reach them. Rich and powerful first after-
“ Reminiscing old times in the dark mine? ” The young lady asked with a smirk. The cruel inside joke is one only he would understand but how would she know?
“ Less the dark and more the mine. ” Ancid replied and took a sip of the dark liquor. “ I knew a fair blond once, a long time ago… before the falling. ”
The girl giggled softly, short though. “ And I an older, wiser man. ”
It was her. It had always been her, even before. “ How has your decade treated you, Maebeth? ”
“ Quite well, luxurious in fact. ” She traced the lip of her glass with a finger and cracked a sly grin, “ And yours, Ashman? ”
That was a name Ancid hadn ’ t heard in a long, long time and he was somewhat surprised that, of all his names, this would be the one she picked to play with. “ It has been slow but eye opening. Strange then, Traveler, should you encounter me here? ” Ancid launched his own jab at lesser times. He turned to face her directly and set his drink firmly down on the counter.
Maebeth faced him as well, “ More intended really. ” She downed the last of her drink and set the glass down, “ I came for a re-match. ”
“ I suspected as much. As the time in Harrowstakh? Or before, in the Hallowpits? ” Ancid let slip a toothy smile and held out a hand.
She took it eagerly but in a crushing grip and smiled back, “ Come this end I will crack this world and burry you within. ”
Our hands twisted sideways, fingers cupping each other ’ s tightly.
“ Interesting, if I recall correctly you were going to throw me into a darkweb to be lost for eternity? ” Ancid extended a thumb.
“ And you, to launch me into the collision of galaxies? I remember, I escaped. ” Her thumb matched his.
“ Then let us begin. ”
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[ WP ] As he 's being tortured , the terrorist gives the prisoner one chance to be released ... he has to make him laugh .
| The terrorist just looked at the man, who was covered head to toe in blood and scars. Maybe he had been a little rough with him, but then again, the man was from America.
`` So, am I free, or what?'' The man said, as if he was being checked out by some elderly center guard.
`` DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M LAUGHING?''
`` Yes''
THWAC. Were all Americans this stupid? THWAC. He could be just a bad stone or something. THWAC. Yet he was like the other 40 waiting outside. THWAC.
The last hit was especially hard, and the man begins to wail.
Maybe the man would of survived, if he had not said that both Muslims and GPS's make you crash into buildings eventually.
*Ba-dum-tiss*
THWAC.
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[ WP ] Being the creator of the universe is nice and all , but it does n't pay the bills .
| `` And this atom here and... Ok, yes, this looks great.'' I nodded. In reality, I was n't entirely happy with it, but for now, it had to do. I stepped out of my creation and went outside, closing the door tight behind me.
After catching up on paperwork, I stepped in through the door. I did a quick scan. `` Point-three life development rate?'' I sighed. It was outstandingly low. I had thought all that hydrogen, all those stars, would have increased the chances of life, but I was wrong. I did a different scan. `` Ah, so it's just too much dark matter...''
Lunchtime came and went and I found myself in my chair, slightly daydreaming about another line of work. This was barely paying the bills and I was n't good at it. I sighed, I did n't even want to begin thinking about was I good at.
`` Ok, maybe someone should have popped up by now.'' I got off the table and went back to my cubicle trying my best to avoid the gaze of my coworkers on the way. In front of the heavy white door, I crossed my fingers. On the other side, I rubbed my eyes before I took a closer inspection.
`` Yes, yes, these seem fine. Star-shaped ones have a good success rate.'' I took some steps back in their evolution, intending to see where they popped out from. `` Furries? And they had a tail back then, that's not good. No wonder they've barely made it out of their planet, so much time was spent on losing it.''
After finishing my initial report, I stepped out of the universe again. It was time for the weekly meeting and I barely had anything to show.
In the room, my coworkers chitchatted with each other while we waited. No one talked to me of course, but I caught them talking about me more than once. That must count for something.
Minutes later everybody was showing their reports. The tall guy that sits in the cubicle in front of me created a universe with seventy percent of life development rate. It, of course, ended after all the races inside annihilated each other with unending wars, but it only happened at point-seven of the total life of the universe, which was a rather rare achievement. He's resilient on keep trying to experiment with highly-populated universes.
The fat lady that sits behind me, presented an average universe. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it did n't matter: last week she presented an universe that reached technological singularity at point-three of the total life of the universe, as long as she claims to be working on improved versions of that one, she can present boring universes for a year or two.
The newbie, now he almost drove me nuts. He got hired last month and was already making waves. He had presented a monochromatic universe, a universe ten times the standard size with the same amount of resources used in a standard size universe and even a uni-racial universe. As pointless as his achievements were to the objective of our objective, he kept being awarded for his creativity. This week, he showed a universe devoid of black holes. Everybody loved it. Entirely useless, but everybody loved it.
It was my turn.
`` Point-three life development rate?'' My boss asked me with disappointment. `` Only six races have made it into space, of which only two have colonized outside. No intelligent interracial encounters as of point-one total universe life, one race is at seventy percent in the road to transcendence.... what is this, Steven? You're basically telling me that by the nth time in a row, you have nothing to show me?''
`` I'm... It's still very early on but I-I'm confident on species IR03. I p-put it in my report, twenty-seven percent chance to develop...''
`` Yes, but you also have here... seventy-six percent chance of auto-elimination before first colony. That gives me nothing. Are they even aware of heat death?''
`` They believe is much more later than it actually is.''
`` They wo n't get there then. Honestly, you leave me no choice, Steven. Collecting sufficient data for a meaningful answer to the last question is a very important job and I do n't think you're fit for it. Creating universes just is n't it for you. So... pack up your things, today is your last day of work.''
|
[ PI ] Still The Water Rises - 2YR CONTEST ENTRY
| Man, that took a turn for the creepy! I think this would be great as a prologue to a longer story - like the murder in a whodunit.
As for the prose: I think there are some brilliant lines ( the sea is mocking me; the water pools around me eagerly ). I also like the title. Sometimes, though, the language gets a bit too complicated for my taste ( my proprioception tries to process external stimuli; stave off the incipient hysteria that enshrouds me ). I quickly lose interest when I have to stop and re-read a sentence - but again, this is just my taste.
|
[ WP ] Most ritualistic serial killers do what they do for a very good reason , and have been sworn to secrecy .
| 14 vials.
Not a bad haul, truth be told. It was n't a Ridgway or a Bundy count, mind you, but it had its merits. It was the upper end of the curve. It was around five years or so.
The killing is the easy part, really. When your purpose is big enough, means look small by comparison. Getting the collection back to the supply was the hardest task, due to pesky institutions like laws and the police.
`` I just wish I could've done more.''
The interrogator is glaring at me. I do my best to look insane. I'm not sure how hard I have to try to manage it. Either way, he's not getting a word from me. We all swore the oath, each in his own time.
It's not like he would believe me if I told him. It might serve an insanity plea to try, but the cause must be protected. Much like myself, the public wants blood.
There's a chair waiting for me. It could be a rope, or a number of bullets, or a needle, but they are just means to an end, as I was.
I am comforted.
Far away, deep under Nashville, Lord Presley will smile, the fruits of my labors poured out for him. He will drink, and he will live on. Five more years.
And as I'm laid to rest, I know he will congratulate me. He wanted me, he needed me, he loved me.
That is enough.
|
[ WP ] It never stops snowing .
| The autumn leaves had only just started skittering when the first snowflake fell. With my little button nose pressed up on the windowpane, I watched the skies turn a stony grey. Mama Cass Eliot ’ s “ Dream a Little Dream of Me ” came out tinny over the car
radio as we drove towards the hospital.
A forgettable looking man in a white coat met us at the door. He took my father aside and whispered gently into his ear whilst I stood in my snowsuit, looking on. My father then started whimpering like a puppy dog, as he nuzzled his face into the man ’ s bosom.
The white-coated man then waved me over and I gave my father the biggest hug I could muster. He squeezed me so tight I could feel my lunch pressing against my belly. After several minutes, the man led us through the dark, sterile blue corridors of the building, to mummy ’ s room.
She lay there stiff. Her eyes were closed, but that didn ’ t seem to stop daddy talking to her. He would hug her and kiss her, but she didn ’ t move or say a word.
Then he left me alone with mummy. I didn ’ t know what to say so I just sat there, looking out the window at the snow, forming a thick white quilt over all there was to see.
By the time we left, the snow was a few feet thick. My ankles and wrists froze stiff as my snowsuit, which was too small for me now, left me unprotected from the cold.
It was only meant to snow for a few days but it ’ s been snowing ever since. I ’ ll have to get a new snowsuit if I ’ m going to make it through this winter.
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[ WP ] His overbearing , unstable ex-girlfriend wo n't leave him alone . She 's in his apartment when he brings home dates . She 's at the store while he shops . She 's at his office when he tries to work . No one can help him since she 's dead , no one else sees her and he 's the one who killed her .
| A tall brooding man with long white hair stood on the cobbled street looking at a series of papers hung on the side of a flat plank of wood. Geralt pulled a page off the Novigrad notice board. *Witcher needed urgently to remove ghost* he mused while reading the notice. There was no other information beside an address and the sum of coin on offer. A Witcher could always use some coin, and a the price on the notice for simple ghost removal was a significant sum.
Geralt walked down the cramped streets of the city, unwashed peasants and nobles alike passed by. The smell would be unpleasant to most, but despite his enhanced senses Geralt did not seem to mind. Perhaps because he smelt the worst of all of them, the guts and blood of both monsters and men was hard to wash off chainmail armour, so unless it was a special occasion he did n't bother.
Geralt stepped up to the thick wooden door of the nondescript house. It was not what he was expecting based on the sum offered. The building was quite run down, and from the number of different boot marks on the entryway it seemed to be the home to several tenants. *Had* been the home perhaps, despite the heavy boot traffic almost all the footprints were a few weeks old. He reached up and pushed the door. *Unlocked*, he noted.
`` Anyone home?'' his gravelly voice yelled into the hall.
A candle flickered as though a gust of wind had passed it. A painting rumbled on the wall. A groan with no discernable source rumbled through the hallway.
`` I'm here about the notice, I'm a witcher!'' He yelled again into the seemingly empty house.
The groaning became loader, Geralt reached for his silver sword. Then, he heard footsteps from upstairs. Human footsteps luckily, he relaxed as a smallish younger man emerged from the top of the stairs. He was very lean, and looked like he had n't slept in days. His dark hair was unwashed and he wore only breeches.
The man stopped halfway down the stairs, `` If you can get rid of her please do it quickly.'' his voice was hoarse, presumably he'd gone a few days without food and he seemed to smell strongly of ale.
`` I can help you, but first I'm going to have to ask you some questions.'' Geralt stated flatly.
The man seemed to become nervous, fidgety, `` Ca n't you just dispatch her with your silver sword? I thought witchers could slay ghosts.''
`` I can kill almost anything,'' Geralt replied `` But to do that I need to know what it is I'm going to kill. If it is a ghost I have to know how it died. You said *her*, how do you know the ghost is a girl?''
The man sighed uncomfortably before starting, `` Because I knew her, she was my ex-girlfriend. In life she tried to ruin me and in death she does the same. She appears when I bring girls home, and follows me when I shop. No-one will sell food to me. What more do you need, please just end it quickly?''
`` Do you know how she died?''
`` No, her body was found floating in the river, the carp had got to her by the time she was brought out. We only knew it was her by the necklace she wore. I got it for her just after we'd met, before I realized how much trouble she would be.''
Geralt perked up a bit as though he'd heard something important, `` sometimes a ghost can be bound to physical things, do you still have the necklace?''
The man replied becoming frustrated, `` No, I sold it, I do n't recall to who.''
`` Sounds like a bad breakup,'' Geralt quipped, the man did n't seem amused, `` I'm going to need to provoke her into appearing. You said she appears when you try to buy food? If I offered to sell you some would I see her?''
The man replied, `` No, only I can ever see her form, I must be cursed. She wo n't leave me-''
`` Alright, I've heard enough.'' Geralt interrupted
The man appeared excited, `` So you can get rid of the ghost?''
`` I know you killed her.'' Geralt replied fiercely, `` The ghost has bound itself to your soul, it could only have happened if she felt very strongly for you. Both love and anger. And only if she felt them as she died. You killed a woman who loved you, she will only leave this world when you die as well.''
The man appeared nervous and shaken, he looked around as though he would bolt. `` It's true I could n't stand her, she was ruining me. Please witcher there must be another way to make it end.''
Geralt quickly drew his crossbow and shot the man's shoulder causing him to scream as he fell to the stairs. Geralt walked up the steps and drew his sword. `` The only way to free her soul is to kill you, I'll do you both a favour.'' With a single swing Geralt sliced open the man's skull. Immediately a burst of green light shone through the house as the ghost of the woman appeared before Geralt as a translucent glow.
The ghost began to speak, the crackling voice echoed as though she spoke from between two great cliffs. `` I would have killed him myself given time, but I thank you for shortening my suffering. I'm sorry to tell you I have no way to repay you.'' The ghost then disappeared in a brief flash leaving only a faint powder of emerald dust.
Geralt collected the powder for later use before searching the man's body for the coin he had offered.
`` Damn-it, no coin. He was going to cheat me... wait is this?'' Geralt pulled out a small playing card from the man's pocket. `` Not even rare,'' he looked at the body `` You really did deserve to die you piece of filth.''
Gerlat pocketed the card and walked off to find his next adventure....
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[ WP ] Every person in the world has a counter above their head . For every world-changing action , whether good or bad , it pings , alerting everyone in the area . Yours just went off .
| Today I felt inspired.
There was nothing particularly unique about today, but the feeling lingered all morning as I met with colleagues and sat in a few meetings. I'm sure they could see how distracted I was, but I just could n't ignore the feeling of hopeful ambition today.
I finally got to break away from the necessary social obligations - they did serve a purpose and helped solidify some connections with a few key officials who will play a big part in times to come - but this afternoon's plan was all I could think about. My hand was twitching in anticipation to begin writing again.
So I began with my typical routine. I ca n't help but be a little superstitious, so I did n't want to throw myself off by changing the slightest bit of my little ritual. I took my usual leisurely walk to the cafe ( admittedly at a slightly faster pace, due to my excitement ). I made my usual rounds of greeting the regulars, keeping the topics light to avoid getting pulled into a long conversation. I folded my jacket along the same folds as every other day, and I smiled as I noticed that the fabric was actually wearing thin along those creases from repetition. I kind of like being consistent. It helps me feel like I have control. Like I might actual make a difference in the world someday. And today feels like that day.
So I took a sip of my coffee and picked up my writing where I last left off. To be honest, I must say the words flowing from my pen were inspired. It's like every thought, emotion, and conviction stewing in my mind these last few months had finally crystallized into something concrete. As I sat and reviewed the final pages, that's when I heard it. That subtle, chirping `` ping.''
I could barely contain myself as the other patrons curiously turned my way. I simply nodded with a polite smile until they looked away, and then beamed with a grin once privacy was restored. I'd finally done it. My masterpiece had manifested itself, and I felt like a lucky bystander. I closed my notebook and wiped a tear away from my eye as I admired the beaten up cover. The title there was almost faded from so many hand carried trips to the cafe. But there it is, finally complete; `` Mein Kampf.''
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[ WP ] Write a letter that is actually a cry for help .
| Dude, it's 2:30am but something's keeping me awake, and you need to know about it. I ca n't tell you this in person, so I wrote it down:
I've just got back from a bar. I was sat there on a stool, knocking back some shots. This woman comes in, who looks a bit familiar and starts trying to tell me that I should n't be drinking.
She starts asking why I'm throwing my life away, getting drunk every night. I'm like `` Lady, get off my case, who even are you?''
Anyways, she pulls up a seat next to me and grabs a drink for herself. Hypocrite. The ice had barely started melting in the glass before she starts bursting into tears.
I asked why she was crying and then I realised where I know her from. She's your boss.
She says that she's in love with you. How she sees you smile at her in the office. Tiny details like how you stir your coffee in the morning and when you brush past her at the photocopier.
So I started asking why she does n't just tell you that she likes you. She said that she can tell me, but she ca n't tell you.
I pushed my empty glass toward the barkeep for a refill, held her hand and asked why she felt that she could n't tell you.
Then after all this talking about you, she leans in and starts kissing me and whispers `` Because you wo n't remember this in the morning, and I do n't have the courage to tell you when you're sober. I can just enjoy this moment''.
With that she picked up her handbag and walked out.
I drank my last drink tonight as the lights went out in the bar and stumbled back to your place.
It's time to change.
Sincerely,
Drunk Me.
|
[ WP ] You wake up into your 16 y. o. self . The last thing you remember is dying in a car crash as an adult . There 's a note on your nightstand . It says `` Never again '' .
| Tucker woke up with cold sweat running down his back. He had just dreamed that he was in a car crash, and it was a terrifying dream. He was trying to calm himself by taking deep breath when he noticed something: He lacked the raspy throat he used to have. He sat up, and saw himself as a teenager. He was interested in lucid dreaming, and looked at his hands, but they were normal teenage boy hands, so he knew he was n't dreaming.
Tucker got up and got dressed. He wore his favorite pair of jeans, jeans that had been long worn with age. He also slipped on a grey shirt, which felt odd on his new, younger body. He dumped his phone and his pocket into his pocket when he felt a paper scrunch. He took it out, expecting a dollar, but instead he found a note. It was written in fine handwriting, and it read `` never again''. Tucker was slightly unnerved. Whoever wrote this note definitely was n't him, as the handwriting was too good.
Perplexed, he went outside into the front. He saw the car. The same car he had crashed when he was older. He shuddered. Never again. Never again would he drive that car, or any car for that matter. He did it to save himself.
It was tough at first. Biking to school was hard, and he did n't want to explain the story to them. Eventually his parents broke up, and he went with his mom to New York. This was great because he could bike easily to school, and was n't the odd one out. He grew up. He went to college and got a job as a software engineer. He got married to a brunette he met in college. They had kids. He was living the life
Then he has a dream that he was in a car crash. He woke up with a cold sweat. This felt odly familiar. He put on his jeans, and realized there was a piece of paper in them. It read, `` never again''. He never drove a car once. He got married, and had kids.
Then he had the dream that he crashed. He swore never to drive again. He got married, and had kids.
The cycle repeated over and over. His life was torture. He never felt it conciously, but subconsciously he felt old. Too old. He got frustrated. One life he beat his family. One life he killed a man. He was ready to die.
Tucker woke up with a cold sweat. He put on his favorite jeans. There was a note. It read `` never again''. This time, Tucker burned the note. He drove. He drove his whole life. Then he grew old. He did n't get married, because he did n't trust himself with a woman. He grew old alone. Then one day he got in a car crash. At last, he finally died.
Hope you enjoy, first story here, so I hope yall like it.
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[ WP ] The planets of the solar system have an argument .
| `` Alright now, everyone BEHAVE. God's coming by, and I want everyone to make a good impression. This does n't happen that often and He's got billions of systems to visit, so everyone PLEASE be on your best behavior!''
`` I do n't feel so good...''
`` Jupiter...''
`` No, I mean it. I do n't feel good, I'm all gassy and bloated...''
`` Yeah, and you've got a big red spot right on your face! Does n't look good, Jup!''
`` Ha ha HA, have n't heard that one before! Shut up Uranus, at least I'm named after the most powerful god! We all know what you're named after...''
`` Can I show God my sentient life??? I've got millions of species, and water and cities and computers and oceans and-''
`` Wow, Earth, you have life? I had no idea!''
`` Yeah, Earth, why did n't you say something? I was n't paying attention the first hundred billion times.''
`` Shut up, Mercury, do YOU have life? No. And Mars - my life is so advanced that the coolest thing on your entire PLANET was SENT THERE BY ME. So go stick it where the sun do n't shine, which is nowhere, because you're a barren, lifeless, desolate ROCK!''
`` Hey, HEY. Guys, what did I say? Best behavior. Earth, your atmospheric conditions and distance from me have allowed you to develop life. I'm not saying you did n't work hard - just that you had a lot to work with.''
`` He's saying you got lucky, basically.''
`` Mercury, stop it! Mars, you too. And Earth - do n't make `` where the sun do n't shine jokes'', I know what you mean but I ca n't help but take it personally.''
`` When is God coming? Is it soon? Do I look okay? How are my rings, are they on right?''
`` Who cares about your rings? Look at me, I'm this hideous puce color, and I look fat ugh. My atmosphere is literally noxious...''
`` Saturn, you look fine. Venus... That's just the way you are, I'm sorry.''
`` Hey Saturn, why do n't you give a ring to Uranus? Do n't you think a ring would look good on Uranus? Heh? Anyone?''
`` At least I can WEAR rings, moron, you're just the solar system's largest fart!''
`` Ohh do n't say that... I told you I do n't feel so good...''
`` Um, guys? Maybe we could stop fighting for a little bit? I mean, God's coming, after all, and I know we all want to look good and reflect well on Sun...''
`` Really, Pluto? No. Shut up, no one likes you. And you're adopted.''
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[ WP ] You 're stuck somewhere , with only a small voice that repeats things you say . You slowly realize that it 's just an echo .
| Peter sat there contemplating how he ended up in such a weird position. He seemed to be between Nowhere and Somewhere to be found, but the carving in the cold log which sits straightened toward what seemed to be the top of a cave could have been lying.'*I'll just tap on the log*' Peter thought to himself as clever as he could. He did n't want to spend his time in matter which did n't.
Peter started a'tapping the log which stood with its branches high rather than off. As he started to tap he heard a muffled Tick.'*Maybe it was inside the log?'* Peter placed the thought of being able to reach someone from tapping on a log that sit in the same area he sat, in a darkness of which had no entrance or exit.
His mind drifted away to the memories of how the Pigs, always mean to him. The Ponies, always nice to him. The pigs seemed to drink all day, while the Ponies loved to smoke. But both now seemed to be quite the joke, as he thought they were in the same place as he.
He started tapping the log. This time, he thought he would just keep tapping, a constant tap.
'*Tap*'
'*Tap*'
'*Tap*'
As peter returned his ear to the cold tree, placing it among the wood. He started to hear the'*Tick. *' His hopes started to dance excitedly within his mind, the rabbits which chased around his stomach reminded him how hungry the past had left him. He never seemed to receive his second tick, he awaited huddled next to what was to be his best friend.
'*TOCK. *' The tree echo'd tones which cascaded into his mind. He excitedly pressed his worried head in hopes that he may be reaching out to an extraordinary individual that could save him.'*Could they? *'
He decided to start tapping six more times, this time all equally as hard and spread throughout time at the same pace. Knowing that his Knight could pick out a simple pattern and relay to him communication of,'*I know your here. *'
As Peter set his ear to the tree one last time, he starts to hear:
'*Tick*'
'*Tick*' He surely made a mistake before.
'*TOCK*'
'*Tick*'
'*Tick*'
'*TOCK*'
He sat there in depressing regressing silence, darkness surrounded him.'*Do you like this place? *' A strange women's voice appeared from behind him but continued her speech without his frightful answer of woe-and-no,'*Where would you like to be?'* It echoed onto his shrimped ego.
'*It's a beautiful world*' He thought as tears trailed into the brown dirt he sat up'on. As he sat there wondering why and where he was all he could think about was the time that he wasted back at home.'*I'll try tapping the log again! *' Peter getting his hopes up. It was just a hoax to himself, he's been tapping on the tree for two day, the women's voice always did remind him of his mom.
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[ WP ] Your house is sentient . It requires regular care . Including , a daily walk to the park .
| The frogs and crickets were especially loud this evening I thought, standing by the pond. Not for the first time, I was grateful to have a body of water so close to the farm. A thin film of algae mixed with soap covered the surface and a grimace of regret came to my face as I looked on.
Water poured out of the hose bib of my house and into the pond. The strain on the wood of the walls relaxed and I heard a loud creak as all the floorboards and siding settled back into place. I hoped none of the wood had been damaged today because the old thing got cranky when I had to pull it apart some.
The thing was showing it's age. The blue paint on the outside was peeling, but last time I had tried to spruce it up, it would n't let me get anywhere near it, and the closet with the paints inside had been locked up ever since. That was unfortunate since that's also where I kept all my gardening equipment.
`` Are you quite finished?'' I asked it when I saw the last few drops spilling into the pond.
It responded by trudging back on its six feet made from concrete, towards our home site. I had no choice but to follow because once I had n't, and I'd had to spend over an hour convincing the damn thing not to walk into town!
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[ WP ] Hell : meeting the person you could 've been ...
| I come to
I'm hurting everywhere, but that's not really the surprise, considering what I've just been through
What does surprise me is that I'm not burning in hell right now. Suicide was murder, was n't it? Murder got you sent to a flaming place with demons and shit everywhere
But no
It's just a nondescript meadow. A few flowers here and there with a tree off in the distance, but that was it
I heard someone walking up behind me
I whip around and see a tan asian man with short hair, arm in arm with a tall pale woman who had long dark hair down to her waist. They were dressed simply, and... they looked familiar
`` Who are... why do you look so...''
A memory of happier times flashed. A semi-lit room, alone with...
`` No, stop it!''
... the weight of her head of my chest...
`` No no no no...'' All the memories, everything I'd tried to keep down
... the smell of her hair...
`` gah!'' I clutch my head in my hands, trying to stem the flow. It was like having my heart broken again. So completely. Like the first time
I looked up again
They were still there, staring at me with the same sad expression I myself had worn for so long and I knew who they were
They were what I had once hoped would happen the first time I fell in love. She and I together. I saw the rings on their fingers and then...
I was broken. I fell to my knees and began to sob. No torture could ever compare to this.
The emptiness came rushing back, the kind that can only exist if you had experienced complete happiness. The one that takes a part of your soul and leaves it in memory. The kind that stays with you forever. The pain of regret that never leaves
I curl up on the grass, still sobbing and reduced to nothing, with no one to comfort me as they did in life
And still they watch, ^silent ^specters, ^from ^^a ^^dream...
Edit: dammit super script, just work properly
|
An incredibly intelligent person is trying to tell someone something important , but is losing their extensive vocabulary . Fast .
| They tell me the crash is coming, that everything will burn out soon. I want... I want my last impression to be of the beauty that's out there. The twisting expanse of galaxies, the flowering of new stars, new worlds turning into new days under foreign suns. The steady rythm and beat and hum of all the life there is out there.
When they told me I should never mix man and machine... I always thought of the ethics, of their fears for humanity, not for me as an individual. When I linked myself into the network... all those probes and satellites... I never thought... I mean, they gave me so much beauty, that is what I want you to remember... The beauty. Try. Remember.
But oh God the size of it, the darkness, the silence. That is what I was never meant to know. I was never meant to comprehend the vastness.
They say the crash is coming, I hope they can make it quick. I want to hold on to the beauty the dark is burning up everything else. I was never meant to compre..
There's dark. I'm scared of the dark. I'm so so scared of the dark... Help me. Please I just want the pretty lights... bring back the pretty lights... I just want the no dark
no dark
too big
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[ WP ] You are a survivor of the zombie apocalypse , but for some reason you can not take the zombies seriously
| `` I mean, they're just... they're fucking stupid, Linda.'' I flailed my arm in the direction of the stumbling dead man not twenty feet from us. As Linda tugged my other arm, hysterics building up in her pleadings for me to get moving, I struggled to catch my breath from laughing so hard. You know the kind of laugh that cramps your stomach brings you to tears, the kind of laugh that sounds almost like crying? Yeah, I was n't being quiet.
`` Please, Steven... please!'' Linda had let go of my arm and was beginning to back away from me. I could n't even straighten up, every time I looked back up and caught a glimpse of the zombie I creased up again. `` Steven!'' The dead man had moved a couple of feet closer, and I attempted a meditation style deep breathing technique to control myself.
`` Okay, Linda, okay. Let's go.'' I took her desperately grabbing hand with one of mine, wiping tears of pure joy from my eyes with the other. She set off fast, jerking my arm to tug me along.
`` Steven, we need to hurry up, there'll be more here soon!''
`` Fuck me Linda, if any more show up they wo n't have to bite me, I'll choke to death laughing.''
`` Steven!'' Reluctantly, I sped up to a trot. We actually managed to get about ten feet away. Then I heard a thud from behind us. My stomach started screwing up in anticipation. `` Steven, no.''
I had to. I turned around. The zombie had tripped over the kerb and was lying on it's back, arms and legs waving helplessly around like a stranded turtle.
Linda left me after half an hour. I do n't blame her.
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[ WP ] - Write an excerpt from a book that was never written and make me wish that it was .
| We dance in the flames of war, lapping up the blood shed by innocents. Misery is our plaything, sorrow our delight. The soft keening of widows is but music to our accursed ears. We have been shunned by the gods, and so we take our vengeance on mortals. Such fragile things. They live fleeting lives, wearing themselves to the bone for foolish reasons. They are nearly as cruel as we, but capable of sickening compassion. We have no such thing left within our twisted bodies. The gods have cursed our race to the depths and so we slink in shadows, biding our time. And our time will come. We have only an eternity to wait...
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[ WP ] A skydiver is in freefall with a defective parachute . Write from his perspective .
| Evan was never the smartest guy in the room. He had failed out of college. He could n't make witty banter. He did n't get any of the jokes on *Frasier*. But one thing he was, was absolutely fearless. Maybe it was bravery. Maybe it was an inability to understand the severity of the situations he got into. More likely it was a combination of both. Nothing could faze Evan, and he always took things one problem at a time.
Perhaps because of this unflappable attitude in the face of danger, Evan was an adrenaline junkie. He rode every roller coaster he came across. His favorite movie genre was horror. He worked winters at the ski lodge where he frequently went down the diamond slopes. He'd even done a BASE jump. But he had n't been skydiving yet. So once he pooled together money, he decided to take the plunge.
`` Remember,'' said the instructor as he got ready to jump. `` Once you're ready to deploy the parachute, you pull this string. On the extremely unlikely chance that it malfunctions, you've got a backup parachute that you activate with *this* string.''
`` Got it,'' said Evan.
The instructor continued. `` We have someone in a truck down below who'll follow your jump and be at your landing site to pick you up.''
`` Yes, yes, I remember.''
`` Then you're ready. Jump!''
So Evan jumped.
The freefall was thrilling. He felt the inertia in the pit of his stomach, and tingles of excitement down all his extremities. Oh, but the rush was insane. He'd never lived like this!
A minute, maybe two minutes in, and he was about halfway to the ground. He was ready for the parachute. He pulled.
Nothing.
*Aww shit, * he thought, as the surging wind was too loud to say the words aloud. *Just my luck. * He pulled again, and again. The parachute would not deploy.
Then he remembered what the instructor had said. The backup parachute. He reached for the second string, and pulled.
Nothing.
He pulled harder. He was still in freefall. *You've got to be fucking kidding me. *
Evan pulled and pulled. He tried the first string again. He pulled on every last flap on his suit. No parachute deployed.
*Great*, he thought. *What awful luck. At this rate, I bet the truck wo n't even be there to pick me up when I land. *
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[ WP ] God meets up with another life/world creator .
| God poured over his creation, scanning it intently. From afar the land look pristine, perfect in every detail, but God was a perfectionist. As it turned out he did n't have to look very far to find a problem.
In the corner of a coffee shop he found young man who had a hollowness growing within him. The young man did n't realize it yet but God could see it clear as day, growing like a cancer. He took a quick peep into the young man's soul, saw, and understood.
The young man was watching the people around him, wondering if this is where he is supposed to be. He had the distant feeling that he had failed himself some time ago, and that first failure had led to an avalanche of further failures. He had everything a person could ask for: no financial worries to speak of, a promising career in a much-needed line of work, and a large, loving family. Even with all that, he had this feeling he could n't shake: he was n't supposed to be here. He could almost hear a train whistle fading in the distance, a train he was supposed to have been on.
God cracked his neck. The fix was an easy one, for him; it would be a brutal and grueling experience for the young man. God tried to avoid these problems before they got this bad. He stayed on top of his creation constantly perfecting it, but imperfections slipped past him occasionally.
Quick and ruthless, God separated the man from his career and his wealth. He introduced him to the physical pleasures, and escape, of inebriation. These would take the man to a low place, make him weak. It would give the man all whole new perspective on things such as `` happiness'' and `` pain''. God made a mental note to himself: Do n't Forget To Give This Man The Strength To Climb Out Of The Hole I Have Dug Him... When The Time Is Right.
God gave one final look at what he had wrought and smiled a sad smile. He steps back and resumed scanning, ever the perfectionist. He was opening a hole in the floor of an ocean when he felt a presence in his domain. A familiar being stood with him.
`` Welcome to my humble creation, God'' said God.
`` God, It's incredible what you've done with the place'' responded God. He examined the magma spurting from the hole and asked, `` What are you doing now?''
I've decided this spot would be a beautiful place for an island. Is a tricky process, but I'm excited for its potential. You should check back in a couple thousand millennia and see what I've done with it.''
`` Well I guess that answers the question of why it's been a few million years since anyone has seen you.''
`` Who has time to cavort when there's so much to build?''
`` Pretty much everyone. You know your spending all your time on a childish fancy, right? What is in here that can begin to compare what's out there?'' asked God waving his hands vaguely in the direction he had come.
`` I ca n't just leave them,'' protested God. `` They love me. They need me.''
`` Humans love you. Humans that you created. That is n't real love.''
`` You know my stance on what I believe humans can feel,'' God said stiffly. `` Even if they ca n't feel'true' love, they can feel pain. I will not create beings and leave them to suffer in the cold, unforgiving universe they are encased in.''
He rose out of the abyss and God followed him arguing, `` That's the beauty of humans. Their self-perpetuating. You do n't need to take care of them. Just sit back and enjoy the spectacle. Mine are growing faster than ever. They number almost 7 billion and are searching for new homes to populate amongst the stars.''
`` Seven billion!'' cried God aghast. They were standing on the water now which was getting rougher every second. `` Why so few? My people have populated dozens of worlds. Almost all of them have a least a billion people.''
God shrugged, `` Wars have been causing all sorts of problems. A few famines were also pretty bad, but it's looking like they almost got them figured out.''
`` Wars! Famines!'' A new emotion, one he had never felt before, gripped God: rage. It started as a small fire, then erupted into a blaze, engulfing him in spirit and body. His once humble form was replaced with the pillar of light that vaporized the ocean beneath them. His voice boomed out in peals of thunder, `` WHY HAVE YOU ALLOWED YOUR PEOPLE TO SUFFER WAR, SUFFER FAMINE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?''
The accusation shook God. He had done something once before in his own universe, but it had n't been like this. Every particle of this reality reverberated in fury. He realized then that he was n't the master of his domain, merely the owner. He fled.
He had almost forgotten what it was like to be afraid. `` What a fucking nut,'' he told no one in particular, voice trembling. He went back to his domain. Maybe he would check on his people.
|
[ WP ] Pick any two Muppets and write a Buddy Cop adventure starring those two .
| The town was in a panic. City Hall was being held hostage with a hi-tech dirty bomb that could easily wipe the whole place off the map, shipped in unseen with the daily mail. By the time anyone found it, it was too late to evacuate, and too far for the nearest bomb squad to travel. All the citizens could do now was pray, pray that the town's local peacekeepers, two down and out city cops with one too many citations ( and a day-old deputy ), could defuse the situation before it went nuclear.
The two stared at the bomb intently. No doubt conjuring up years of hard knock experience, the deputy thought. There was no doubt this would put them to the test like nothing else. But he knew they could do it. They *had* to.
`` Mmm... Book!'' One said
`` Book, mmhm, book.'' The other agreed.
`` Yip yip yip yip yip yip.''
The two pulled out a manual. The deputy had never seen one like it, written in some kind of code. Probably top secret, anti-terror techniques. He knew they'd come prepared. `` Ahhh...'' They said in unison, picking out the technique almost as soon as the book was open. Now, it would take all their training to disarm the bomb in-
`` Phone!''
`` Phone, phone. Yip yip yip yip yip yip!''
Okay, it looked like it was a phone bomb, maybe? Their accent was tough to read at the best of times. Maybe they could-
`` BRRRRRRING! BRRRRRRRRRRRRRING!''
`` BRRRRRRRRRRRRRING! BRRRING!''
The deputy stared for a minute. What were they doing? Were they trying to hack the phone or something? He could remember when phone phreaking was all the rage a while back, but he was pretty sure this was a cell phone.
`` Nope. Nope. Uh-uh.''
`` Nope nope nope nope nope.''
`` Book!''
Damn. Maybe it was a long shot, but they only had a few minutes left. Maybe they were n't the best cops, but they always got the job done. There had to be something in that book that could help them at least...
`` Ohhhhh!''
Yes, there it was, now they could-
`` Fire!''
`` Fire, mmhm, yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yip...''
`` Wait, what? What do you mean fire?''
One of them was hopping off somewhere. The other one grabbed one of the drapes in its mouth, and started slapping the bomb with it.
`` Wait, what are you doing? What's going on!? Are n't you supposed to know this stuff? Are n't you police? Do you even have badges!?''
It stopped, turning to stare at the deputy, who quailed under the force of the cold, googly glare.
`` Badge, badge... Nope, nope nope nope nope nope.''
The deputy stared from it to the bomb as a steady beep marked the final few seconds in the countdown.
*beep*
`` Ohhh!''
*beep*
`` What is it now!?''
*beep*
`` BEEP!''
*beep*
`` BEEP!''
`` What are you-''
*beep*
`` BEEP!''
`` Are you serious!?''
*beep*
`` BEEP!''
`` This is competely insa-!''
*SPLASH*
The deputy stared, drenched and speechless, as the bomb fizzed and sputtered, cheap electronics shorting out.
`` Fire.''
`` Fire. Uh-huh.''
`` Yip yip yip yip yip yip yip.''
The deputy sputtered for a few seconds, and promptly fainted. The two hardened city cops stared at him for a few moments.
`` New Kid.''
`` Yip yip yip.''
|
[ WP ] A young man stands on a bridge , holding a family heirloom
| I stood at the railing and stared downward. The water below was so still that I wondered how it could guarantee death. I supposed death was better than having to deal with any sort of disability a failed attempt would make.
I contemplated the past few months, the amount of pain I ’ d been through had been almost unbearable. In fact, it had been unbearable. I stared out at the distance and stared at the still lake. How could the lake remain calm next to this much pain? Was there any such thing as pathetic fallacy outside of books? Well, I know this was pathetic and recently it had felt like my feelings are one big fallacy.
I started to think of the funeral, the amount of people, the tension in the air despite the kind words. The uncomfortable feeling that things would never be the same. I was more than aware of that. I knew things would never be the same. Fact of the matter is I didn ’ t understand life anymore and I knew I could not carry on as normal. There would always be a weight on my back that I could never shift. But I had morbid curiosities that lead me to try and understand it. I wouldn ’ t be here if I hadn ’ t thought that through.
The weird thing about it is, I had always thought of life as a beautiful thing. I think that ’ s why I had lived the way I have but my fatal mistake came in not noticing when I ’ d crossed my own boundaries. I was scared to settle down, I knew deep down I was not stable enough and that it was a recipe for disaster. What kind of father only tells his daughter he loves her after he has stumbled in at one o ’ clock in the morning stinking of Jack Daniels? Sometimes you don ’ t always choose the things you love most and although I loved her more than anything I still chose Jack Daniels.
Although stood here it was difficult, I had to think of the good times. I had caught my wife practising her smile in the mirror. I remember that same smile on my daughters face when she first met Santa Clause at the Christmas festival. I remember her first babble of what sounded like words. I remember her tentative first steps holding on to a trolley. I remember my mother telling me I would always have a home there. I remember my daughter crying into my arms as I told her I wasn ’ t mad I was just worried and feeling that unconditional need to protect her.
Oh shit.
Remembering that last one took me back a few steps, staring down again at the lake I could imagine the pain surging through her heart already. Everything in me told me to go back, to do better, and to be stronger but I knew I needed this. One thing I ’ d learned is that sometimes pain is there to teach you a lesson and sometimes it is just there like an appendix with the on-going potential to burst.
I had been through almost every emotion a human being possibly could. I had been mad at my family, I had been mad at the locals, I ’ d been mad at God, I had most of all been mad at myself, I ’ d been mad at my daughter which was the worst of all. We have different ways of acting when it comes to life changing and my first was anger. Actually, perhaps anger isn ’ t the right word. Maybe it was misdirected despair, though that may just be me trying to justify myself unjustly.
I had been through depression, I had counted the many reasons I should be and deserved every night. My dreams were haunted, my life was haunted. I couldn ’ t turn anywhere without there being a reminder of just how desperately miserable I was. Every morning was like head butting a brick wall, a brick wall ten foot high I had to climb. It hurt to breathe as it seemed pointless. I didn ’ t deserve the air.
After depression comes complete numbness, which in its own way is a relief but in others it is even worse. I was impervious to the help offered by others. I would sit in the same chair all day just staring out the window not allowing anything to break my concentration. I knew I was hurting everyone around me but there was nothing I could do. Every move was an ache in my muscle that reminded me there was blood pumping around my body and thus reminding me I had a heart, and that it was breaking.
I put one hand on the railing and despite it being a mildly warm day the metal bar still left a chill on my palm. Perhaps it was nature ’ s way of sending a warning. In my other pocket I took out a picture of my daughter, I had enough time in the world here to stand and look at it. She was my world and the one thing that made it hurt to stand here but I just need to feel something, anything. The picture I had was her most recent high school picture and I felt when I looked at it long enough I saw pain in her eyes. She had an endearing smile, a snaggle tooth on the right side of her mouth she ’ d had since first school. She begged for braces but I was always hesitant as that snaggle tooth had become a part of her and every time she smiled it was a reminder that she was my little girl.
I remember her asking me about heaven, she had a fascination with the supernatural so I had told her I ’ d let her know. She smiled at this and I held her close, granted I ’ d had some whiskey but she never judged me for it. I think that made it worse.
When you watch your family get older and change it is a very difficult thing, it ’ s difficult to keep a marriage going and keep it strong and you often worry you ’ re staying out of comfort rather than love. Standing here I knew I loved her, despite the arguments and the poison we spat at each other, I loved every single thing about her and I ached at the thought of her in pain but I needed this and I knew that. Seeing my daughter grow up and become distant was difficult, she was either erratic or withdrawn or somehow both. It took me to now to realise she had a penchant for long sleeved shirts and I worked out why. I blamed myself for that, I blamed myself for everything.
I though back on everything in my life, from my very first memory of my mother reading me a book about Noah ’ s ark. I thought of first school crying because my first milk tooth had fallen out and I didn ’ t understand why and I had visions of having to wear dentures like my grandfather. My middle school years where I had my first crush, though I ’ m not sure it was genuine but rather because I felt I should have a crush. My high school and college years where I really blossomed and I think this is where my thirst for life began. Maybe I reached my peak too soon and I had lived the rest of my life trying to get that back whilst also slowly losing hope that I would. I remember my wedding and although it was one of the best days of my life, the adrenaline was 10x that of a bungee jumper. Bungee jumper. Jumper.
I took my hand off the railing and held the other side of the picture of my daughter on it “ I ’ m so sorry ” I said. “ I wish things could be different but they aren ’ t. Please forgive me. ”
And with that, I knelt down to pick up the urn and scattered her ashes over the railings and placed the picture next to the flowers below me. I reached into my other pocket and pulled out a note “ To my beautiful girl, I hope you are now free from pain. Please tell me what heaven is like. Love, dad ”
|
David Bowie has created his own alternate universe , and is selectively populating it one person at a time . [ WP ]
| `` Hey, Starman?'' Carrie asked, nudging Bowie's arm to get his attention as they walked down the soft grey hall to her new room ( the hall was usually iridescent, but whenever he was moving anyone in, David always changed the color to something softer, to ease the transition ).
David let out a little hum of curiosity, peering down at her from the corner of his eye, his pale white suit a stark contrast to the graceful black-and-blue of her clothes.
`` You know everything, right? Everything that's happening back home?'' she inquired.
`` I suppose so, but only in the short-term.'' he answered, shrugging. `` Why do you ask?''
``... what's gon na happen to Gary? I mean, I know Mom, and Todd, and Billie are gon na be fine without me, but what about him?'' she finally asked. She tried to seem calm, but under it all, Bowie could see how worried she was for him.
David understood her fear, and smiled gently, comfortingly, as he did with all those who he brought into his new world. `` Billie will care for him, and Todd will help.''
`` But what about mom?'' she pressed, eyes wide with wonder behind her glasses.
David knew the truth, what was going to happen was in a close enough time span for him to see. He knew that soon, there'd be another addition to his universe. But there was no need to tell Carrie that. As much as she refused to show it, Carrie was in awe and afraid of this strange new land she'd been brought into. There was no need to shake her further.
So, instead, he brought her to the door of her room, changing the subject. `` Inside's everything you could want. Feel free to wander around once you've settled, get used to your surroundings. Prince, Gene, and I were planning on playing cards later, if you'd like to join us.''
Carrie chuckled. `` No thanks. I might just go visit Patty Duke, see how she is. But thanks for helping me find my way, David. You're a star.''
David chuckled too, slightly saddened. `` And you, my dear, are a princess.''
`` General.'' she corrected, but smiled before slipping into her room to rest and get acquainted with this new life.
As the door shut, David felt his heart lurch in his chest. He swallowed down the awful feeling in his chest, and adjusted his tie before walking away from the door. There was much to do, after all, so very much to do and all the time to do it in. He could hear the sounds of rabbit's paws, a great black rabbit guiding someone else to this Valhalla of art. So, taking a deep breath, David made the hallway shimmer and gleam with iridescence before descending the grand staircase to greet the newest denizen of his own private Black Star.
|
[ WP ] No gods , no kings . Only man .
| How about a poem?
The wind in the trees, is all that remains
From gods of truth, of love, and of pain.
Their breaths were the clouds, their heads shone like suns
Their hands broke the earth, in fury and fun.
The stars were their eyes, observing all men
Our follies, our virtues, our worlds of pretend
but
No longer they bother with guiding the souls
No longer their boatman will gather the tolls
Their heavens are empty, their hells are dead cold
Man ’ s creators have strayed far from their mold
Perhaps they are happy, in lands far away
Perhaps they are dead, not one left today
Whatever they did, whatever they ’ ll do
There ’ s nothings more certain about me and about you
We ’ re here on our own, our future ’ s in doubt
No help from the heavens, though preacher ’ s will tout
“ Believe in the truth! Don ’ t fall for the lies! ”
“ The Gods are still there, just trust in the skies ”
but
We ’ ve seen through the clouds, we ’ ve touch our lone moon
We ’ ll spread to the stars, where gods would have swooned
Impossible is only for things you won ’ t try
Man has ascended, the old gods have died.
|
[ RF ] You have been living in North Korea for all your life and have been offered the chance to escape .
| Hello my name is Kim, this is my escape story. Please excuse my grammar as you read, just continue to read on. It was the hottest summer we had faced since I could remember, the food was scarce, but our noble lord fought for us and through him we could survive. Each day I arose, a burning inside. The pain I was taught was burning with pride. For we are a proud nation, together as one. Each day is a battle, and each day we won.
Today is my twentieth birthday, my parents invited another family over for me to meet their son. My father worked for his. Our eyes met, and it was not what I expected. His face was not like the rest, he showed charisma and hope. These traits are rare, most faces you see, reflect pride and despair. Suddenly the mood changes, and the tension is broke. A spark of curiosity, pleasure, and hope.
We spent the day together, we talked through the night. That night changed me forever, it was the best night of my life. He spoke of things I had never heard, it intrigued me at first, but it seemed so absurd.
One night he asked me to run away with him. Suddenly his stories seemed real. Too real, the chance to `` escape'' he called it. He was serious, I could see the resolve in his eyes. A chance to escape, a chance to be free from the propaganda and lies. Our government is corrupt, now I can tell. I need to escape from this miserable hell.
We made plans that night, I was convinced that my parents would never understand. I had to keep this to myself, he and I were going to leave at midnight to meet with the others. We'd get into the back of the van and get transported to the docks, it as only a few hours away, we'd have food and we would stop for breaks along the way.
That morning we spoke about paradise, an overabundance of food, and the ability to do whatever we wanted. To be free was my new dream, but he's all I wanted. I once heard my mother say true love was a fairy tale, but I knew with no doubt that this love was real. That was until we arrived at the docks and our lives were traded for a couple of bucks. I watched as my beloved sold me away, how could this happen after all he would say. He loved me and I him, so how could this end?
|
[ WP ] Reincarnation is not mandatory , but fresh souls are a finite resource . You are part of the team trying to convince the deceased that they should reincarnate .
| -- -- -- -- --
`` Congratulations, Paul.''
`` Hh... Huh? Where am I? Am I... Am I dead? Are you an angel?''
`` ( A lighthearted laugh. ) Indeed, I am.''
Human thought is weak. Fickle. The brains of humans have established a kind of self-based logic that allows them to believe whatever crap you toss at them.
`` So... there is a god? A heaven? A hell?''
`` Yes there is, Paul. You lived a lovely life and were very brave.''
It's happened time and time again. The Mesopotamians. The Ancient Greeks. The self-absorbed shitholes of `` The Information Age.'' They actually seem to believe they can crack the codes of the universe, using those crackpot processes of thought they call `` science'' and `` religion.'' The only `` science'' they seem to understand is a joke, is of a most basic kind, the kind that a human brain would be able to comprehend, I suppose. And religion is a fanatical makeup of their petty `` feelings.''
`` Will I, um...''
`` Yes, Paul?''
`` Will I ever see my... my wife again? Will I ever see Lola again?''
`` That depends on when she dies, Paul. That may not be for a while.''
`` Oh, um... oh. Oh- okay.''
“ However, there is another option. ”
Heh. I guess the saddest thing is how gullible they are. They fail to realize that their “ feelings, ” their “ thought, ” their so-called “ souls ” are too basic of a concept. They fail to see the greater thing they are a part of.
“ You have the option to be “ reincarnated. ” Born anew, with a different persona. ”
“ Will, I er. Well, will I retain any memory, any piece of my old life? ”
“ That ’ s not exactly a question of solid answer. It depends on what happens in your new life. ”
They think themselves so smart… so complex. DNA sequence, microbiology, astronomy. All their innovations, and their feeble minds can not even comprehend the purpose they serve. To us, they might as well be mud. They are beings crafted of mud.
“ I still have so many questions. ”
“ Do not stress, O human. The greater mind shall reveal all. Someday… someday. ”
The experiment is working. We underestimated them perfectly.
“ Well. Thank you. Th… thank you. May god bless you- er, by the angels, that is, by you, may god bless you. May He bless us all. ”
“ Good luck, Human. *He* shall reveal all soon enough. Rest in peace. ”
-- -- --
edit: formatting is dumb
|
[ WP ] The Ukraine/Russia conflict escalates to WW3 with major battlefields in all 5 continents . How did it unfold ?
| We hear on the news `` It was all planned, that the Russians knew what they were doing and had calculated the steps out ahead of time''; but, the truth of it is that they were flying by the seat of their pants - and the world got burned.
It all ignited on New Year's Eve 2014 ( that is December 31st, 2014 for you idiots who ca n't read a calender ) when the weeks of riots boiled over from too many sins committed. Personally, I think the Ukranian people just wanted to make sure that 2015 would n't be like 2014. After the rebels gained basic control of Kiev, Russia did the only thing they could, respond in kind. They took Kharkiv, Luhansk, and Donetsk on New Year's Day and claimed Kiev the day after. We thought Putin would stop, but we underestimated his ego, he seized all major Ukranian cities within a week and killed millions in the process. The world was in shock; but, before any real sanctions could be brought to bare Putin did something even more unforeseen - he kept marching. He claimed Belarus and Moldava on January 28th before the rest of the world realized the scale of what was occurring, that Putin wanted exactly what we did not - World War 3.
February 1st, everything went to hell - Russia ordered and successfully carried out airstrikes in Polish territory - and every country on Earth suddenly found themselves at war. It was funny almost, the similarities to World War 1, due to all the treaties as soon as Russia touched Polish soil we all were, suddenly, at war.
I am no history nut, so I wo n't bore you with the details but after that day conflicts raged across the globe, every continent except Antarctica was affected. That's not true, actually, I remember hearing about a mission to kick out some Russian scientists studying an ancient lake in Antarctica, so this really was *World* War 1. Surprisingly, China sided with us in the war, sending 500 million men against Russia to claim even more territory. The Middle East became united against Russian pressure extending south to claim their oil reserves. India, though, got the jump on all of us by siding with Russia and did a number on Western Australia before they were pushed back. There were a few allies for Russia in South America, Brazil revolted within hours of promises from Russia of a new government, they were finally fed up with theirs, it seemed. North America fared the best of all, the decades of paranoia paid off and we struck down 200 missile attacks against the USA and Canada - only 2 ever hit land in Alaska and British Columbia with minimal damage. Russia did n't make it too far in Europe, only about halfway through Germany before they stalled out and were forced back. No, the real length of the war came from our offensive. We did n't want to let Russia become another power for a long time, so the military decided to break up the old Soviet Block into more pieces than could ever be put back together. The only problem was, that block was tough to crack. It took 2 years to fully advance through Russian territory and form new nation states. Now that we have done all that, the world can hopefully go back to peace time.
We survived, no weapons of mass destruction, no nuclear holocaust; and, Einstein was wrong, for better or worse, we wo n't be using sticks and stones in World War 4.
|
[ WP ] Write a post-nonapocalyptic story - the story of what happens after everyone thinks the world is going to end but then it does n't .
| “ Mom—Are you ok? ”
“ Yeah honey, we are all fine here. Thank God! My hands won ’ t stop shaking. Your father is a bit of a mess, and the dogs are still barking. But yes, we are ok. How are things in New York, everyone survived? Did you call your brother? You ’ re perfectly ok, not hurt? Right? I was so worried about you. ”
“ Yeah Mom, I am fine. I am fine. I need to tell you something though, and I need you to promise me that you won ’ t freak out. Ok? Please Mom, just listen to me and don ’ t ask me any questions. ”
“ What is it? Are you ok? You said you were ok! ”
“ MOM! I am fine—It ’ s just that…I need you to do something for me. Or, not do something for me. ”
“ Of course! What is it honey? You said no one is hurt. Anything, please—you are scaring me! What is it? ”
“ Don ’ t turn on the TV. ”
“ Why? What ’ s on? ”
“ Please Mom, just don ’ t turn on the TV for a couple days, and no newspapers. ”
“ What is this all about? Is it not over? I thought we were safe. It passed. We are fine, right? ”
“ No, well yes—Mom we are fine. But don ’ t turn on the TV. Promise me! There is something I don ’ t want you to see on there…that I did. And I need you to please respect my wishes. Even when your friends call you and ask you about it, just don ’ t watch the video. ”
“ Honey, what the hell are you talking about? What did you do? Are you in trouble? Does your father know? I ’ ll come to New York if you need— “
“ No! Mom! It ’ s fine. It ’ s fine. Just don ’ t turn on the TV, or Facebook! Definitely no Facebook. We just thought it was all over, so we uhh, did some things. And now we are still here, and…we, uhh, we thought it was over. It was stupid! We are idiots and we screwed up, but I can ’ t let you see it. Not you Mom, so please, promise me. I am so sorry. I don ’ t know why we thought that was a good idea. ”
“ But -- “
“ We thought it was the end! And well, we were so wrong. ”
“ Whatever it is. It ’ s fine! Honey, I love you and I am just so glad we are all OK. Please, you can tell me what it was and it ’ s alright. I am just so happy we are all still here and you are OK. ”
“ I got ta go Mom. Just please—No TV. Please. I'm sorry. ”
|
[ WP ] Without warning , all the world 's bodies of water become 100 % transparent . As the captain of a container ship , this has made your job so much more difficult and frightening .
| These days crews are ordered to stay indoors, which is a real bitch because these hauls take weeks. Most of them go stir crazy by the first week. After one or two hauls they find another job. The unions are still there, I guess, but not like they used to be. Now the shipping business relies on temp workers, immigrants, that are looking for a way in somewhere else, but even for them it's an in-and-out job.
I would have left the day after it happened but I could n't. It happened mid-trip, around midnight, during a shipment from Rotterdam to Singapore. I was smoking on deck alone and looked down and it was like we were floating above another world. I remember calling for help. Send out the life boats! I did n't know how many we'd need but we did n't have enough and I had never felt so helpless in my life. That feeling never went away.
Shipments were stalled for a few days. Everyone who had planned a cruise was refunded. The first few weeks everyone said it would be taken care of - they'd clean up, they'd take everything in and document it and close thousands of cases. The first one was Earhart's wreckage - that was an easy one because most of it was in pretty shallow water. Turned out she had crashed the plane on purpose for a publicity stunt and everyone - the papers, tabloids, internet- went nuts. In one night Earhart went from being an internationally revered aviatrix to a stupid fame-thirsty amateur. And then they all realised what we had before us: with the clearing of the oceans came the clearing of history. For the first time the world started moving forward by digging deeper into the past.
They did end up recovering most of the stuff that had been hiding in shallow water, but the deeper it got the harder it got to get to these things and after a month all the recovery missions were put on standby. The papers said they were working on getting bigger crews to descend even further, and once they achieved that everything would be back on track.
That was three years ago, I think. Shipments started up almost immediately but nobody goes on cruises anymore. I guess that's the one good thing that came out of this. And now crewmen get treated like war vets. I'm the only one left out of everyone I worked with. Zack shot himself, John disappeared. Michiel overdosed last year. I do n't miss them. I never talked to them after leaving, anyway.
No, that's not true. I saw one and he's the only one that's still alive. I visited him two years back at his house in Arizona. He had painted every room a burning yellow. It was so bright it hurt to look at. There were no mirrors, no glass. After a few minutes of silence he asked me, `` do you remember the eyes?''
I nodded, told him I did n't think we should talk about it but he went on.
`` How many eyes do you reckon are in the ocean, Tom?''
`` I do n't know.''
`` Billions, billions, billions. How many did we see that night Tom?''
`` I do n't know.''
`` Millions. All looking up at us. all piled up one on top of the other as far as the ocean goes. Why were n't they eaten? Decompose? Why wo n't they go away?''
`` I do n't know.''
`` And now there are more. No one recovers new bodies from the ocean anymore. There will be more and more and more and they'll never go away, it'll never stop, billions, billions, billions...''
|
[ CW ] Write a short scene without using the same word twice .
| He said,
`` There - beneath a bower of our trees, you will look. Watch, while sun creeps over Earth's far side and snow grows grey, for Lynx.
Wildcats never speak, or play. They've yet to really run before these eyes. Growls rarely mar winter's dusk. Even murmurs are verboten. But, son, that forest's alabaster cat is real.
Little me, be more than man, go beyond unmolded meat, meet him! Seek out feline friendship, progeny, as offspring before have. Tame this beast! Abet no snarls, just pets, purrs, halcyon love. Such intrigue makes success. Find silence in his fur.
Then slaughter it.
Cousins, your brothers, sisters, mother - all can feast for celebration! Take manhood, boy.''
|
[ WP ] In many games , there are many ways for the chosen hero to die in a stupid way . This is one of those stories .
| Bew Bah Boh Woooooo Bop.
& nbsp;
[ Initializing... ]
& nbsp;
[ Sunercopop Productions Presents... ]
& nbsp;
[ A LamestGameandHero Software ]
& nbsp;
[ The Unclimatic Hero! ]
& nbsp;
> MAIN MENU
> Campaign
> Multiplayer
> Options
> Exit Game
& nbsp;
You chose, Campaign... LET'S DO THIS!
& nbsp;
Enter Cinematic Cut Scene ( *Epic arcade music* )
& nbsp;
There once was a hero who traveled far and wide to slay the mightiest of beasts. This hero would also help any and all who needed it. A cat stuck in a tree? No problem for this hero! With a quick thwack he will chop down that tree, judo kick it out of the atmosphere and gracefully catch the feline. We are grateful such a hero exists, but we hope we may never need him again...
& nbsp;
Wait, what's this? I'm getting news that the city of OhSnapIt'saDragon! is being pillaged by a Dragon! What are the odds?!?! On top of that it is n't just any old Dragon it's Sir Dragon Elder ( with that kick ass beard! ) - the king of all Dragons! We do n't need just any hero, we need *The Hero*! Hero, if you can hear this, we need your help, NOW!
& nbsp;
End Cinematic Cut Scene - Enter Lvl 1 ( *Lively Arcade Farmtown Music* )
& nbsp;
The Hero - Aha! Fear no more, Citizen! I have heard your cries for help with my acute hearing ability that allows me to hear from 10 miles away! I am just outside of OhSnapIt'saDragon! I will be there in no time!
& nbsp;
The Hero finishes up his daily duties at the farm and quickly throws on his magnificent shining armor - a trophy for the killing of Mustagave Prime, a gurgling mass of putrid tentacles. He killed it with a single swing.
The Hero then grabs his humongous blade of diamond - another given trophy. This one was given for slaying the angry golden pigeon.
He then finishes his readiness by mounting his valiant steed Hermin the Great. Bred from the fastest, strongest, and sturdiest of horses. Basically priceless. This was simply just given to him for no particular reason at all, he just happened to be passing by an old lady stuck in a well.
So, finally, with Hermin the Great, the shining armor, and the diamond blade The Hero readies off....
& nbsp;
Until he sees a runaway chicken grazing in the cow field.
The Hero - Well I ca n't have this! The farmer will surely shun my name if I let even one of his chickens stay loose!
He unmounts Hermin the Great and leaves his helmet and sword by the horse's side. Then in the most dramatic starting line running pose The Hero lunges forward and races towards the chicken. As he stampedes forward he starts to notice something swaying in the breeze from the chicken's head.
& nbsp;
He jumps the perimeter fence and slows pace and sort of hunches over in an attempt to be stealthy. He squints his eyes, craning his neck and tries his best to see what's up with the chicken. ( Yeah he does n't have super human sight ). Tied to the chicken's head appears to be some sort of black cloth, The Hero is n't certain. Thinking he has a good chance to +1 a chicken, The Hero speeds forward, arms outstreched fingers wiggling in anticipation, and.....
& nbsp;
THWACK!
& nbsp;
{ GAME OVER! } ( *Descending Arcade Music Plays* )
& nbsp;
You have been slain by the roaming black belt chicken.
|
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