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[ WP ] Ready to die
| The long, morning shadows of the buildings and the trees would always have their tales. Stories of how a shadow did not die, how it had but to wait for the light again.
They would tell these stories to the smaller shadows as they were lead into them, as the younger shadows would grow afraid of the loss of self within their expanses. Soon, they would say, you will be yourself again.
They always were.
It was a boy's shadow that they told now. Fearless as the child himself as it drifted through the expanse and the boy sought relief from the sun's brilliance.
They always spent long days in the sun, or under the many lights in the boy's home and school. It would enjoy the thrill when there was more light, when it got to stretch in all directions and see what seemed like everything at once.
There were times when it seemed like the boy did not need it, but it always found a place, even if it was just the impression of his eyelashes upon his cheek as he swam.
Its boy knew it, and there was a pride in that it never kept from sharing as it passed the other shadows in its grasp. They would fight together sometimes, the boy with a toy sword and it obviously with one that was much more real.
There was nothing stopping either of them, until the boy started to spend more time in his room and the shadow was forced to be still for longer period of time. It tried to make faces and animals along the wall for the boy as it had before when the light was right, but he paid no notice.
It was not long before they were out again, and the shadow's spirits soared until they were lead into yet another building, one with too-bright lights and more beds.
The shadow had no one to ask what was going on, hiding under the crook of the boy's neck, on his pillow.
For the first time, it was almost afraid.
The boy stayed in the bright place for a long time, taken to different rooms within it but never, never outside. The shadow longed for the sun, longer to be able to meet the shadow of the building it was in now, to find out what was going on.
As time went on, the boy moved less and less until eventually he stopped.
There was a lot of movement then, and the shadow, frozen and confused sought answers more than ever, from any small shadow that came its way.
A man's shadow crossed it, just for a minute and the shadow begged to know what was going on, when they could leave and be in the sun again.
Your boy is dead, the other shadow tells it, but the word has no meaning it knows. You will leave soon.
You will leave soon - the thought rattled within the shadow, joyous again at the idea running through the hot sun.
But a moment later something was placed over the boy and the shadow fought to find a remaining corner to hide in, some place to be cast without the light.
There were brief moments of respite but every time it was taken back to another dark place, a bag of a drawer, and none of the other shadows would speak of what was happening.
I want to leave, the shadow told them, afraid once more without the bravery of its boy to bolster it.
The other shadows would not answer it. Would not tell him stories, or speak with him at all, even as things were done to the boy, things removed, readied.
Eventually it sits once again, under the crook of the boy's neck, upon a pillow, and yearns for more.
Be brave, the shadow of the boy's mother tells him as she kisses the boy's forehead.
It does not know if it knows how anymore.
Something closes over the boy in his new bed, blocking any light and the shadow reaches once more, begging for answers, begging to understand.
The piece of the old tree's shadow speaks to it, disoriented but calm as it encompasses it.
It tells him a story, of how they will go to the shadow-of-the-ground now that its boy is dead. That it will protect him, and together they will hear the shadow-of-the-ground's stories for the rest of time, that it may even grow, become the shadow of something else and hide cunningly from the sun once more.
The piece of the tree's shadow tells the shadow of the boy as they are lowered into the ground, and its excitement soars for the first time. It can be brave, it thinks. For the mother-shadow, that had told it stories even as the mother had told them to its boy.
It feels like a long time, waiting to feel the shadow-of-the-ground, to be welcomed into its embrace and hear all the stories it had yet to hear. The boy ’ s shadow
This is it, the piece of the tree's shadow tells it finally, and its spirits soar once more as it settles in comfortably to wait and the last inch of casket is covered with fresh soil and then the shadows -- of the boy and the tree alike -- are no more.
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[ WP ] Everybody has the ability to bring another person back to life , at the cost of their own life . You are one spouse in a couple that keep resurrecting each other , only able to communicate via notes , videos , etc .
| *Dear Elizabeth, You were killed in a car accident this morning. A drunk driver ran a red light and slammed right into you. They said you died instantly. I hope you did n't feel any pain. I ca n't live without you, Lizzy. You are the love of my life, the light in my dark, the mate of my soul. You are so loving and kind. The world is better with you in it. Emily needs her mother. She's only a baby, I ca n't take care of her the way you can. You deserve to live more than I do. You deserve to watch our beautiful baby girl grow up. I am using the resurrection device on you. I am sorry that it means I will be gone when you wake up, but it's better me than you. You are strong, you will make it through. I am sad to leave Emily, I love her so much, but I am doing what's best for her. I know that. I love you so much, Lizzy, I do n't even know how to properly express it, but know that I am doing this because of how much I love you. Live your life to the fullest, raise our daughter to be as wonderful as you are. Accept new love if it comes to you, you deserve to be happy, but please do n't forget about me. Please tell Emily about me and tell her how much I love her. I love you always, Fitz*
My hands shook as I read the letter. I had woken up on our bed, groggy with a heavy headache. Emily was crying in the other room.
`` Fitz!'' I had called out, `` can you calm her? My head hurts too much.'' There was no answer. `` FITZ!'' I called out again. Then I saw the envelope on the nightstand addressed to me.
My hands shook and the letter fell to the floor. I was crying. Crying harder than I ever had in my entire life. `` That BASTARD!'' I shouted, `` how could he do this?'' Emily was still crying and I knew I had to tend to her but my body felt like lead. I could n't move, all I could do was cry. I was alive, but my husband was dead, and he died for me. What was I supposed to do now? After what seemed like eternity I forced myself to get up and walk to Emily's room. She was laying there red faced, tears pouring from her eyes. I picked her up and pulled her close to my chest. I kissed her on the head and shushed her. `` This is why I'm alive. This is why I'm alive,'' I repeated to myself over and over.
*Dear Fitz, It's been two years since you brought me back from the dead. Emily is growing up beautifully. I ca n't believe she's already 3! I have missed you horribly these last 2 years. It has been like there is a giant hole in me. I love you so much. Watching Emily grow up with out you has been so hard. It's not fair that she gets me but not you. I have been telling her about you and showing her pictures and videos so she can hear your voice. She's talking ( she has quite the vocabulary ) and today she asked where you are. I'll admit I started crying and did n't know what to say. I told her you were in a better place. But that's not true is it? Your place is here, raising your daughter. She is so smart like you and she has many of your mannerisms. I have had the privilege to watch her grow for 3 years. It's your turn. I love you always, Lizzy*
`` You clever woman.'' I said as tears streamed down my face. My head was pounding after waking up. It made sense, I had been dead for two years. I ignored the pain and ran to Emily's room. There she was, sitting on the floor playing with toys. `` Emily?'' I asked with a cracked voice. She turned to look at me. Her eyes squinted as she studied my face, trying to figure out who I was. `` Daddy?'' she asked with excitement in her voice.
*Dear Lizzy, Emily is 5 now and she's growing up fast! She starts school in the fall and I know she is going to do well. She misses you terribly and ca n't wait to see you again. I told her you were coming home soon and she drew you a picture. I hung it on the fridge for you. I miss you terribly too. I love raising Emily, but I wish we could do it together. I miss hearing you laugh. I miss kissing and holding you. I miss making love to you. I hope one day we will see each other again, but right now Emily needs us, and it's your turn. I love you always, Fitz*
I smiled as I read this letter, but there were still tears in my eyes. I was glad he brought me back to see her again. I was glad we somehow decided to take turns. `` Emily?'' I called out. There was a brief moment of silence. `` Mama!'' I heard from the hallway followed by the pitter patter of little feet running across the hard wood. She burst into the room and jumped into my arms. `` I drew a picture for you mama, wan na see?'' She asked with a grin. `` Of course!'' I said as I wiped the tears from my eyes. She grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen. There on the fridge, was a picture of me, Emily, and Fitz drawn in crayon. I could n't help but tear up again. `` Do you like it Mama?'' She asked. `` I love it.'' I said and picked her up and snuggled her close.
*Dear Fitz, Emily is 7 now and going into 2nd grade! I ca n't believe how quickly she's growing up. She's already excelling at math. I told you she's smart like you! She misses you and has asked why the 3 of us ca n't all be together. I have tried to explain but she is still too young to understand. She has developed a love for pop music, unicorns, and Shirley Temple movies. She is a unique one. She has your laugh, which makes me feel like you are here sometimes. I really wish you were. I love you so much and miss you daily. Enjoy your turn! I love you always, Lizzy*
My daughter is good at math! Math was my college major so I was ecstatic. She takes after me! Emily ran into the room shortly after I finished the letter. I was awestruck. She was a spitting image of her mother. I started to cry.
*Dear Lizzy, As you probably know Emily is 9 now and entering 4th grade! She looks so much like you. She's so beautiful. She had her first boyfriend this year. His name was Sean and they lasted about 3 days. She's growing up too fast! She is still excelling at math and is already at 6th grade level! We made one smart child. She still loves unicorns and Shirley Temple movies, but her music choice has changed to classic rock. She's a bit precocious-*
`` Mom!'' Emily burst through the door and and into my arms and the letter fell from my hands. It landed under the bed, and I just - I just forgot about it. I did n't finish reading it. I was too excited to see my beautiful girl again. We had a wonderful 3 days together. They really truly were. I took her to the water park, she told me all about her life for the past 2 years. We watched movies and played games and were silly together. But I did n't finish Fitz's letter. I forgot and I missed it. The most important part. The part about Emily's peanut allergy. How it's so bad I could n't even touch her or kiss her if I'd touched or eaten something with peanuts. I did n't read where it said the location of her epipen. I found it later, but it was too late.
*Dear Emily, I know this must be very confusing for you. It's something I've tried to explain a hundred times, but could never quite get it right. I am so sorry, sweetie. I am so sorry I did n't know about your peanut allergy. I am so sorry I ate that sandwich then gave you a kiss. I am so sorry that your father and I do n't get to see you grow into the beautiful and wonderful woman we know you're going to be. I am so sorry he did n't get to take his next turn. We both love you so much, never forget that. You are going to live with your Aunt Sarah and Uncle Joe now. They will be good to you and love you and help you grow. Be strong like I know you are and live a wonderful life like you deserve. I love you always, Mom*
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[ WP ] Children are legally required to directly repay their parents the money they spent on raising and maintaining them
| Mila's birthday was on May 11th, falling on a Sunday this year. Along with all others born on the same day who were coming of age ( typically fifteen, except for Georama and Tenessippi where it was thirteen ), she got served. The lists were delivered to everyone's doors in white envelopes with pre-perforated tearaway sides. They had been finalized and approved by the government established Center for Unburdened Reproduction. Parents had to submit dated and itemized receipts a month before their child's serving to allow for processing time, for everything from the first ultrasound to the bowl of cereal they ate this morning. The CUR would check their validity, estimate the additional spend for the last month of responsibility based on historic data, and send its agents to the appropriate houses with the finalized lists.
She tore open the envelope and pulled out her list. The first things that stood out to her were those that psychologists had theorized would happen. As the child would become more aware of their impending responsibilities, their consumption habits would adapt to minimize future liabilities. The spending of Mila's parents certainly reflected this, with year over year decreases between ages nine and fifteen despite her growing body requiring more food. They also predicted that as the child grows, the bill would see less frequent but larger spikes of exceptionally high spending. Most of it resulted from health care, as everyone was bound to fall ill on occasion. However, as little children, they would seek medical attention more often. As they grew older and started dreading raking up further bills for their future selves, they would try to ignore ailments longer and thus pay for doctors less frequently, but higher amounts due to letting their conditions grow much worse. Certainly she was reminded of age eight when she'd let a stomach pain turn into a burst appendix over the course of a week, making it her most expensive year.
Being prepared for these things, she did n't find the trends shocking, only depressing. Mila was almost ready to file the list away in her accordion document holder, when a peculiar thought overcame her. Though expenses were ordered in sequential temporal order, she saw not a single receipt for forty days straight, about two thirds of the way between her third and fourth birthday. She could understand gaps of a few days, especially since her parents shopped at a superstore that offered most things in a single weekly trip. But there was no way they could have done no spending for forty days. And this was government certified.A mistake would be too embarrassing on the very first round of servings, so she was sure an oversight on their part was not the issue.
Forbidden by law to question her parents on any part of the list, Mila wished to speak to another servee. She sat on the porch all day, on the lookout for a CUR vehicle to help her identify another lucky first rounder. It was easier than she anticipated, as just a few buildings from hers, they stopped and served a boy she had never seen in the neighbourhood before. As soon as the car departed, she rushed him and grabbed his list, undeterred by his confusion. Same gap, same forty days. Not a dollar spent. She threw it back at him and went home to try to make sense of what she had learned. She no longer felt like a complete individual; she had a gap. The second round of servings would start in less than twenty hours. She needed to know if they too will find themselves to be incomplete.
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[ WP ] You discover that a random object in your house is not only sentient , but incredibly intelligent . Have a conversation with it .
| `` I GIVE UP! I'M REAL! I CAN TALK!''
The tinny words rise up from the table. I grab my phone with the intention of shutting the music app off, which I must have forgotten to do earlier. The phone is black and my battery is dead.
`` I DON'' T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO.'' I look around, then look closer to the table, where the small voice is coming from. It takes me forever to identify the source of the voice as coming from a small, dull 1978 penny sitting on the middle of my table amidst other change from my takeout the night before. The lincoln's mouth is so small, it's nearly impossible to see him speak. But his lips are moving, mostly perceptible by the movement of his beard.
He is n't Lincoln, though - I mean, The Lincoln. When I press him for details - a name, an identity - he does n't have one. He tells me that his guess is that he is a quarter. He came to this conclusion based on an interaction with a young girl who was counting her change. I do n't have the heart to tell him she was counting incorrectly. Primarily, he has to rely on his hearing. While he has eyes, they are fixed within a 3D frame, pointing directly at a high brass wall. He can see things out of his periphery, but ca n't discern details.
He tells me that he believes he's been sentient since around the mid-1980s. Those were the years people were citing when he gained the ability to hear - and understand. He does n't know or remember whether he could hear or understand before then. He spent several years trying to communicate with others when he realized it might be a poor decision. As a dirty penny, he gained access to a number of unfettered conversations that have revealed the darkest sides of humanity, and he had come to the conclusion that a sentient penny was probably better off a silent penny.
That was, until today. And here he is, blind on my palm, begging me to provide some conversation, some stimulation, some interaction, but to keep his secret safe.
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[ EU ] It 's over Obi-Wan ! I have the high ground !
| Obi-Wan goes to Padme's house and as soon as he sees her he kisses her passionately and looks into her eyes. `` He still thinks it's his does n't he?''
`` Ummm uhhh Obi....'' she's interrupted.
`` If only that cocky shit knew I was fucking you he would lose his temper like the little child th...''
Anakins light saber cuts the rant short.
Padme covers her mouth trying not to laugh. She thinks to herself, `` If only you both knew that I've been fucking Palpatine since I was queen. Oh damn talk about unlimited power.''
Obi-Wan reaches for his light saber.
`` It's over Obi-Wan, I have the high ground. In fact it's over because you can have her,'' Anakin drops from the ledge overhanging the balcony.
`` Padme how come there's no....'' Palpatine walks out to the balcony and pauses.
Anakin and Obi-Wan look at each other and pull their light sabers.
`` Be careful Jedi. Remember I am the Senate.''
`` Who cares,'' they reply.
Palpatine pauses and the reveals his light saber. `` It's treason then.''
`` I hate you.''
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[ WP ] Blow me away by breaking the fourth wall in a way I 've probably never seen done before .
| The warlock grinned. His mastery of the universe was absolute. Here he was, having absorbed the Archdemon's power, having wiped away every last vestige of resistance. That foolish paladin, struck down where he stood. The mage who dared to face him, burnt to a crisp by his own magic. Even their sneakthief, who bravely attempted to kill him when his back was turned, had fallen. Now all that remained was their minstrel, standing alone in the castle hall.
`` And how would you like to die, little one?''
The minstrel, strangely enough, still grinned. It was a lopsided, shaken grin, but he grinned. The warlock sensed his desperation, his bluffing. Sweat glistened on the minstrel's forehead.
`` Come on. Lightning? Boulders? Much like you, I take requests.''
The minstrel's expression darkened. `` You may have defeated my team, but you underestimate me. Words have power. And I have found the strength to wield them.''
The warlock scoffed. `` So they do. In fact, I'm thinking of a word with power right now. What could it be? Ah yes, that's what it was. DIE.''
The minstrel raised his arms and closed his eves. A, `` Bolt of lightning arced,'' across the room, `` And into the minstrel,'' said the warlock.
The warlock blinked. He was sure that he had killed this upstart. He had felt the lightning crackle out of his palm and into that twerp. Yet there he was. He blinked again. What did he just say? Determined, he raised his arms again.
Gouts of, `` flame rose up and enveloped the defenseless minstrel,'' Said the warlock `` Not happening,'' Said the minstrel, with great effort.
The warlock was staggered. A powerless purveyor of tunes was defying him somehow. His attacks shriveled up into mere words on his tongue. `` What are you doing?'' he shrieked.
`` I am teaching you the power of words. Words have unlimited potential. And I know how to unlock it.'' The minstrel carefully, with much concentration, placed a quotation mark behind his last few words but continued to speak into the universe. The minstrel gripped the paladin's sword and raised it, charging the warlock before he had a chance to react, `` and running him through. Oh crap.''
The warlock neatly sidestepped the minstrel's blow and summoned a flaming sword with which to strike down the minstrel. The minstrel screwed up his face and said, `` But, ahem,'' But the warlock's sword was unstable, and vanished before he could use it. The minstrel then raised the paladin's sword, `` And channeled the spirit of his fallen comrades through it to... Damn, I could n't hold it!'' The sword, too heavy for the minstrel to wield, clattered to the floor.
The warlock grinned. `` It seems you are finally,'' Running out of power. The minstrel shouted in a panicky voice, `` And that was exactly,'' what the warlock was doing! He was running out of power! The warlock, that is. And `` The minstrel could feel his strength returning to his tired bones,'' said the minstrel.
The warlock gasped. The limitless power at his disposal had begun to waste away. Whatever the minstrel had done had weakened him. He needed to end this now. The minstrel saw the warlock's stance and gasped for air as he sought the strength to wield the words one more time.
The warlock shot a powerful beam of pure magical force into, `` The minstrel, as the warlock concentrated all of his power into,'' his own hands.
An explosion echoed across the hall. As the smoke and dust cleared, a silhouette stood staring at where his hands once were. Blood oozed from the stumps. The warlock wore an expression not of pain, but of confusion.
`` How-''
Then he collapsed. Kneeling at the other end of the hall, gasping for breath, was the minstrel.
`` I-I did it. I did it.'' Tears slowly drifted down his cheeks. He, the weakest of the team, had managed to defeat the greatest evil the world had ever known. He rubbed his eyes, picked up his lute, and decided that the first thing he would do when he got back to town was have a long drink.
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[ EU ] Marty McFly walks in on his parents arguing about why he looks like their friend from high school .
| `` I ca n't lie George'' Lorrainne whispered `` Something did happen between Calvin and I''
Standing up slowly from his favorite dinner of cold cereal `` Well tell me already Lorrainee, I'm sure you have been hiding this from me for almost 18 years''
Seeing him rise made her very nervous as she knows George does not like confrontation.
`` Remember when you saved me from Biff? Well as you may know I did not start in the car with Biff. It was Calvin who drove me to the dance. We shared.....well a moment... as brief as it was strange. I kissed him, but he really did n't kiss me back. Then I felt it. It was surprisingly large and right in my face. It had felt like I was kissing my brother.''
`` Damn it Lorrainee. This is Hill Valley not the hills of West Virginia where this kind of thing is encouraged.'' George said as he ran his hands through his greasy hair.
`` I swear George that is all that happened, That was the last time I saw him. Standing with you in the stairwell''
`` I do n't believe it for a second'' George snarled. He grabs the yearbook from the shelf and turns to a page he had booked marked. `` See I have been thinking about this for some time now. When he was young I could see a little bit of Calvin in our son. As he grew older it became more and more apparent that this might not be my child. Then this year our son is the same age that Calvin would have been at that time.'' On his way back from the bookshelf he had grabbed Marty's Senior picture from the mantel. `` You see they look the exact same. Calvin must have polluted you with his seed at some point.''
Sobbing now she starts out of the room, but George grabs here and screams `` Get back here, we are not done talking about this.''
As he is pulling her back Marty enters the room from the garage after an evening of mudding in his new 4x4. When Marty sees what is happening he grabs a pan that was housing a cake for Jailbird Joeys parole that ended up being unsuccessful. Screaming `` Get your damn hands off her'' he swings the pan full force which connects with George above his right eye.
A wail of pain come from George as he falls over a table and crashes to the floor. `` What is going on here'' he asks his mother
`` Its all your fault'' she snaps. `` It turns out all of our problems lead back to you. Now look what you done'' she yells as she goes to Georges side. `` Look what you have done to the only man I have loved.''
Confused Marty looks around the room and the yearbook catches his attention. `` Who is this guy that looks like me?'' he asks playing dumb.
While shaking his and head and coming to George says `` That's who I think your real father is. You look just like him and nothing like me.''
`` Mom how could you? This guy looks just like me'' Marty shouted. `` How could you do this to dad after he stood up to Biff.''
Marty hearing himself yelling at his mother gets more excited then maybe he has ever been. He had never had a rage boner before, but the more it grew the more the anger grew inside of him. This was his chance. He never liked his alcoholic mother or his strange father that was obsessed with aliens. He managed to be pretty popular, but they kept him down a few rungs on the social ladder at school. If only they were n't around he thought to himself.
`` I'm sorry, but you have to believe me, nothing happened'' she whimpered
`` Son this is between your mother and I please stay out of it.'' George pleaded.
`` Whatever dad, I was on your side you know. I do n't know why you put with such alcoholic trash'' raged Marty
`` Just go to your room and let us work this out together'' George ordered.
Marty paces in his room while his anger continued to change from his mother to both of his parents. Would n't life be better without them he thought to himself. Meanwhile the volume of the argument in the living room was hardly a murmur now. Peaking around the corner he sees the couple holding each other talking through it. To hell with this Marty thinks. Its not worth being angry over if they are no longer mad why should I be.
Knowing they could use a drink to help defuse the situation further Marty gets two tumblers from the cabinet and fills them with ice. He walks over to his mother and father to set the glasses on the table. His mothers head is leaning on George and looking away from Marty. His dad nods and requests the Makers Mark.
Walking to the liquor cabinet Marty's hands start to get clammy. Thoughts are racing through his head, but he knows what he needs to do. He pulls the 3/4 full bottle of Makers Mark from the cabinet. He is almost back to the when his mothers head starts to rise. She sees him coming and screams `` GEORGE.''
Seeing her eyes as big as sauces George starts to turn. The bottle smashes over the top of his head right below the red Makers Mark wax. Glass shards and whiskey fly through the air. George's body slides off the couch and into the puddle of bloody whisky on the floor. The blow had killed George and cracked his skull just enough for a small pool of blood to gather on the floor.
`` MARTY NO'' she screams and starts to rise from her seat and move to George's limp body. Marty pushes her backwards onto the floor. Standing over her now with the broken bottle still in hand he smiles. `` Finally Ill be free'' he states looking up to the sky.''
With one swift movement he goes from standing to kneeling beside her. On the way down with the bottle in his right hand he stabs his mother in the jugular. Not once, not twice, he lost count at three, but did not stop there. He did n't stop until her gurgling stopped.
Looking around the room Marty has finally realized what he has done. He is clearly the only suspect with a dead mother and father in the living room. He begins to panic trying to think about what to do with the mess. Not even a minute later Doc Busts in through the front door with tomorrow's news paper. Doc pushes the the paper into Marty's chest hard enough to knock him back into a seat. Doc exits to the driveway while Marty reads the article with the headline `` Out of Time'' detailing the grizzly murder of his parents.
Doc come back with cleaning supplies he invented and instructs Marty to put his parents on the hoverboard and move them to the bed of his truck. As he is finishing loading his fathers corpse into the truck Doc instructs Marty to follow him back to his estate. `` What about the evidence'' Marty says.
Doc had cleaned the entire living room with his solution for removing stains. he had created after reading about what Marty had done in the future paper.
Once back at the Brown estate they wrapped the bodies in plastic and loaded them into the Delorean. They set the year to 1884 to avoid running into their past selves. They then dumped the bodies into Shonash where Doc had saved Clara before her buggy went over the cliff. A perfect plan for body disposal worked out as the bodies were found years later severely decomposed near the wreckage.
Marty and Doc return to 1985 and file a missing persons report for his parents. Marty had done it. He had successfully gotten rid of what was holding him back all of his high school years. Sadly, in the end it did n't matter much as he only had a month of high school left.
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[ WP ] The stories of the people in `` Piano Man '' and how they ended up in the same bar .
| Life had not been the same since his wife of 40 years died two years ago, this very night. Abraham Withershorn, more commonly known by the moniker `` Ol' man Withers'' made his way into the the bar. He took a seat near the piano, and ordered a gin and tonic from Milly. Bill always could help him feel young again through his music.
John was n't very happy at the moment. A dead end job at a dead end town, and another failure of an audition. Even the local community theatre would n't have him. He strode into the bar and went behind the counter, giving the manager a fake smile, and donned his apron. He met eyes with Bill's and silently shook his head. He did n't make it yet.
Paul had the worst writers block. He was so busy trying to sell the Ol' Withers place, he barely had any energy left for his true passion: writing. Not too many people shop for housing in a dead end town like this one, and it was getting harder and harder to flip houses in this economy. He decided it was the weekend so he was going to get drunk, consequences be damned. So it was he made his way to the bar that Saturday evening.
David had a long day. He'd been sent all over base looking for elbow grease and flight line. When he got back to shop, all of them were just laughing at him. Well, he was allowed off base for the evening once he was done, and he headed to the bar to unwind, drink beer, and listen to the tickled ivory.
Milly was tired of waiting tables, and there was a position open on the town council. It would certainly pay better than serving drinks at the bar. She tried to encourage the patrons to vote for her, but many were inebriated past caring about elections.
In the corner of the bar there was a funny smell. A group of men were passing around a rolled cigarette. Their eyes were bloodshot, and the only thing anyone knew about any of them is that they called themselves businessmen, and they liked piano music.
The manager surveyed his domain, and smiled at Bill. He knew the bar patrons were here because of him. Hiring him was the best decision I've ever made, he thought to himself.
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[ WP ] You wake up in the body of a person you hate , you have no idea how it happened or for how long it will last . You look at the wall in front of you and see a message written in blood that chills your spine .
| I woke up. I felt cold, my back hurt, and something felt wrong.
I turned around too see what I woke up on. It was a rock hard slab of wood.'Huh? Am I dreaming?' I thought. This was n't my comfy pink mattress.
I looked at my hand. It was much, much hairier than my actual hand. I yelled: `` ARGH! THIS IS N'T MY HAND!! WHERE AM I!?''
I scanned the room.'Empty, weird..' I thought, until I spotted something red. I rubbed my eyes.
`` EXPERIMENT # 2923'' read the words, written in blood.
A chill went down my spine.
'Who did this?!? How did I get here?! Who am I?' I pondered.
Mysteriously, a mirror appeared in front of the bed. I could barely muster up the courage to look at it.
Closing my eyes, I faced towards it. I opened my eyes in fear. `` WHAT THE HELL?!?!'' I screamed.
I was my annoying older brother Dave. He would constantly pull pranks and just be simply disgusting. Once he tried to pull down my skirt in front of his friends. Luckily I had shorts underneath it. Overall: he's a complete sicko. After looking at myself in disgust, a door clicked.
I ran straight up to it and opened it, and looked around. The floor was filled with spikes, bones and dried up blood.
I gagged.'Looks like this is gon na be a long ride..' I thought.
Heyy hope you enjoyed If you want me to continue just tell me: ) I might turn this into a series but sadly I ca n't make a subreddit yet cuz this acc is currently 2 days old and I have like 6 karma XD
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[ WP ] You are the bane of anime heroes everywhere . How ? You do n't shout out the names and explanations of each attack
| My forty-fifth birthday party had been interrupted - as tended to happen when I threw a party, or held a parade, or even had a damned troop inspection - by a squad of heroes. And they were true and proper heroes too - hair in every hue, each dressed according to his abilities, armed with mystical weapons and divine powers. One wielded a sword twice her size and had eyes half the size of her head. All of them wore physics-defying clothing and practically glowed with the aura of Destiny and Fate.
Two hours later, the sword wielder knelt on my marbled floor in front of me, chained down. I'd had my minions take a rather attractive mage off to my brainwashing chamber - I would n't mind having her in my harem - and the rest of the group were dead, their clothing and loot sent down to inventory.
`` How?'' the girl sobbed. `` Why? My sword was forged by the Moon Priestess and blessed with the holy waters of the north star. My companions'' - her breath caught dramatically - `` we sought out the wisdom of the Elder of Earth. We embody the Five Principles of Honor! I am the living soul of the sun! How?! How am I reduced to this?''
If only she knew how many people had lain prostrate in that very spot. Why do you think I had tie-downs installed in the middle of my floor, after all?
She struggled valiantly against her bonds. I lazily raised one finger to my attendant bodyguard, who tazed her back into submission with a gruff `` settle down.'' She collapsed into a heap of pink curls and blue costume - a strange piece that appeared to be completely constructed from belts somehow.
`` I just do n't understand. We have stood valiant against every foe we have thus faced. In the darkest moments our bonds of friendship and love have empowered our hearts and our arms. But you... you...'' Tears rolled down her perfect, heart-shaped face. `` How?'' she whispered, her eyes pleading with me for answers.
`` His eminence owes you nothing,'' my chief adviser said from behind her, where he stood with a full unit of armed guards. `` You attacked and lost; this is nothing new. In my time here alone we have withstood the assault of,'' he checked a small notebook, `` twenty-seven assorted do-gooders, heroes, destined saviors, and divine avatars. Your name and powers will be noted and added to the memorial wall after your execution. Maybe someday you will realize that defeating his eminence is impossible.''
I silenced my adviser with a sharp look. He was getting awfully close to giving away my trade secrets; maybe it was time for a little re-education for that one.
The girl sat silent for a long time. `` We could n't even hit you. I just want to understand. How did our training fail so badly? You dodged every blow, and landed yours before we even knew to react! You even interrupted our summons! How? How could you predict our very movements? Are you psychic? Can you see the future?'' She stared into the floor as if her eyes could burn holes in the marble. They could n't - I'd kept a close log of her powers - but she seemed to be trying anyway. `` Why? Why were we powerless against you? You stepped through our defenses as though they did n't exist! You knew what we were doing before we even did it! Why?''
The atmosphere in the marble hall tensed noticeably. My minions, guards, advisers, assorted flunkies, even the maid scrubbing bloodstains out of the corner all froze, eyes forward. They knew what was coming and every one of them had been thoroughly trained in exactly what would happen to them if my secret weapon were ever revealed.
The girl threw her head back, hair flying in a perfect arc. Her tears reflected sparkling light around her as she cried out a single word, `` WHY!?''
I rose to my feet. Her attention snapped onto me immediately. I slowly walked down the steps from the dais, allowing my robes to flow majestically behind me. I could give her that much, at least. She struggled, more a token resistance than a true attempt to free herself, as i walked up to her.
I grinned, reached down, and patted her on the head.
`` Speak to me!'' she screamed. `` Say something! Anything!''
She was still screaming as the armed guards undid the chains and dragged her away to the execution chamber. Standard hero disposal procedure - she would be shot, beheaded, and her body thrown into the lava pit.
As her sobs retreated down the hallway, I signed to my adviser that I was headed to the Pleasure Hall, and could he please deliver two of my favorite concubines and the fresh oranges my cooks had received this morning?
Later that night, I mentally mused on the days events even as my hands were busy dictating a new chapter of my autobiography to my scribes. When I was a child, I thought my disability would leave me a homeless wretch, unable to do anything with my life.
Turns out being mute is the key to ruling the world.
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[ WP ] tell the uplifting story told by the man dissuading someone else from committing suicide .
| `` Why are you doing this?''
`` Because there's nothing in this life for me.''
`` What makes you so sure there's something waiting for you in the next?''
`` It ca n't be any worse than this.''
`` So you're running away.''
`` I'm tired. I have nothing to wake up for. No one to wake up for. Why not just go to sleep forever?''
`` I was you once. And I had the same thoughts.''
`` What changed your mind?''
`` Who said I did?''
`` You're talking to me now, so you're obviously still alive.''
`` That is true. But that does n't mean I did n't die first.''
`` Go on.''
`` I stabbed myself in the heart. The fourth intercostal space. Ca n't miss it. I was bored. At least that's what I told myself. The only question I wanted to know the answer to was what comes after death. And the only way to find out was to experience it first hand. So I did.''
`` That's kind of how I feel. I... I just do n't care about anything.''
`` I felt pain. Sharp, blinding. Then it was gone. And all was quiet. I opened my eyes. And then I met Death.''
`` You died?''
`` No, I literally met Death. He was a bit shorter than I expected. A bit less sinister looking too. Pop culture really does n't do him justice. And he asked me what I was doing.''
`` What did you say?''
`` I gave him my spiel of how I was bored and nothing excited me and how I had nothing to live for but the mystery of what happens after death. He just smiled at me. And told me.''
`` Told you the secret of death?''
`` The secret of life. You're not just an actor on stage, or a note in a symphony. You are the stage. You are the symphony. Everything around you, everyone around you contributes to your play and to your song. And you contribute to theirs. The universe is one great story. Your story. without you, there is no universe. Without you, there is no story.''
`` I do n't understand.''
`` If you close your eyes, and if I stop talking, how do you know I still exist?''
`` You must still exist. You ca n't be destroyed simply because I stopped looking at you or hearing you.''
`` How can you be sure?''
`` It does n't make sense any other way.''
`` Oh, but it does, my friend. If you can not observe something, then that thing is as good as non-existent to you.''
`` So if I die, I ca n't observe anything, and you're saying that means I destroy the universe? I think that's a bit presumptuous.''
`` The universe is your creation. You made it. You are one with it. It is your story. It is your song. If you choose to end it, then it will end. Are you done singing?''
`` I... ``
`` I think there's still some notes left in you yet. And I for one would like to hear you sing them.''
`` What do I sing about?''
`` If I told you that, then it would n't be your song anymore, would it?''
`` I'm glad you're still alive.''
`` Me too.''
`` I think I'm going to keep singing. I might be off key, but somehow, I do n't think that's a problem anymore.''
`` Good. I have one request of you.''
`` Yes?''
`` Years from now, when you're done singing. Say hi to Death for me.''
`` I'll do that.''
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[ WP ] Before one dies , they feel a patter of rain upon their head . You 're out with friends with rays of sunshine upon your faces when a friend asks if anyone felt the rain just now .
| It was hot, far too hot to continue gardening in the summer heat like she always did in the morning. This heat was a sweltering breezeless heat and there was n't much to be done about it. Aunt Nora sat by the window in her long calf length skirt and house shirt, tilting her head at the feel of any kind of relief.
Ever the Southern lady, there was always a string of pearls around Aunt Nora's neck, and she refused to wear anything that veered above her knee or her shoulder. It was ungodly she had said. But as she held the frail hand of Wallace, her fifth husband, she was one to talk of Godliness. I knew better.
`` Oh Lord in heaven this heat is something else.'' She laughed halfheartedly `` But Ms. Taylor's, whore daughter is another.'' Wallace offered a slight nod and Aunt Nora continued. `` She walked into the Lords house lookin' like a two-bit harlot last Sunday! I could hardly believe it! The nerve, Wallace! The lord serves his justice righteously on judgement day, and It'll come sooner for sinners who do n't repent I'm tellin' ya Wally. He'll get em'!'' Wallace gave a low groan in agreement. `` Sure will''
Aunt Nora flinched suddenly. `` Oh Wally i reckon a storm's commin'. Jerry dear could you close the window for me.'' I stood to close the shudders. `` What storm Aunt Nora? There aint no clouds out.'' I looked for any sign but saw nothing but endless blue sky. `` Oh i reckon there was just some little sprinkles over the top of my head'' She adjusted her thick framed glasses. `` There aint no... Aunt Nora!!??... Uncle Wallace get the telephone!''
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[ MOD POST ] NPR is having a `` Three Minute Fiction '' contest - Have something you wrote be on the radio , possibly ! Comment here if you want a critique before sending in your entry . ( Feb 10 deadline . )
| Yeah, hi. Hey. How, uhm. How ARE you! yeah. Listen. Brenda.
Yes. Brenda. IT's me. Uh uh erm, it's Carey. Hey. You uh, You called me yesterday and I, well, I was n't available. I was working on organizing for dinner tomorrow night, you know just uh… yeah. Unimportant. Ok. Shit. Try again.
boop.
`` To erase this message and start over, please press 1.''
boop
Hi Brenda. Sorry I was n't available. Please call me back at your earliest convenience when you realize just how ridiculously formal this message is and dammit-
boop.
`` To erase this message and start over, please press 1.''
boop
Brenda- I have tried to say this about several thousand times before but it never, really-arrived the way I wanted it to. But I guess this forum is as good as any. I get to practice and these words, from this mouth, need as much practice as possible. This mouth fumbles and - falls when it tries too hard and when it does n't take its time. It spends too long on words that carry no weight and too little on the heaviest to cross it's tongue into your ear. I wanted to- well, Brenda- sweetheart. I've been wanting to tell you all these thoughts in my deepest heart and let you feel my emotion as it pours out and
`` IF YOU ARE SATISFIED WITH THIS MESSAGE, PLEASE PRESS POUND. To erase this message and start over, please press 1.''
… Ok.
boop
Brenda, I know long distance is tough. I know two years apart strains like steel on a suspension bridge, but it's strong. We will be fine. Weekends are ours and eventually every day will be ours, too. I will always love you. No matter distance, time, or any barrier between us. Connecting has been hard lately, but I've never had faith in anything like I have in what we're capable of. I'll see you in four days.
boop
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[ WP ] You are witnessing the destruction of Atlantis
| Never, had I believed it possible that the pinnacle of creation could falter. But there I stood, watching the gold tower fall, the ones I love swallowed by fissures. What was I but eyes, my body frozen and my mind overwhelmed. For the first time ever, the bubble the gods had granted us burst, its magical power fading away inch by inch. I ran down the gold cobbled roads, faster than I ever had. I hoped, I prayed the gods would spare my family but as I reached my shining walkway the home I built with bare hands faded into the ground, eaten up by the jaws of the sea. I turned, and did not feel sadness nor anger but simply did not understand... why would the gods do this? Had we been so vile-or did the gods give us our home simply to toy with us, to give us the illusion we would be safe forever?
For months some of the council had warned that the barrier would fade, but they're comments fell on deaf ears. The elite had no time to spend on the barrier, the money was in the mines under Atlantis, and so they dug and dug until the fissures became too much. It was not the gods that had forsaken us, it was our own greed. As the caverns beneath us fell into themselves so did our shield, as did our people. I boarded an escape vessel with a few others, looking back on a fading golden city, and in my head I could not shake the sound of my daughters laugh, or the touch of my wife. When we safely reached the shore, something unheard to us at the time, we were dazed and confused. Of the million that dwelled beneath the waters, only 5 remained beside me, but that is when we discovered a world unannounced to us.
We sat amongst this new plane for days, wondering if this was were the gods had lived all these eons, leaving us in the bubble to keep the lessers away from them. But my long thought was interrupted by a loud chopping noise in the empty void above me. A God began to lower, a spinning mechanism on the top of his angelic vessel nearly blew us away. We scurried to hide before his machine touched the ground, sand shot up in our faces, but when the mist finally settled we layed eyes onto a being that looked just like us. He said these simple words `` You folks need some help?''
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[ CW ] You glimpsed into the future and know how you will die . Tell the story , but make it rhyme .
| For a bit of back story ( covered quite fast ) I'll outline the past that uncovered the fact, which begins in a lab with astounding bright lights and the remarkable presence of a time travel device.
Within the device, fidgeting furious, and reeling in service to my shivering nerves, the power was started, the whirring and clicks, and my tongue gave a lick to my quivering lips.
I flew, so it felt, though I stayed just in place and suddenly felt rain hitting my face as I stood on the runway, naked and wet, wondering wildly where and when I'd reset.
I heard, from above, a blood curdling scream, and my mind began reeling and my neck craned to see, as a jet engine hissed and began with a wheeze to taxi quite quickly down runway thirteen.
I looked up in time to catch my own eyes as I fell from a portal that had opened up high. The portal, bright red, covered in blood of time, closed shut at once and rescinded the sky.
From the ground, as I fell, I saw the look on my face, which was withered, quite older, unshaven and blank. But I saw that I knew, that I'd seen this before, the paradox shocking myselves to the core.
But a smile crept quietly, my eyes shedding tears of self-loss despite the many more years of this life I'd enjoy, or at least it would seem, given the incident on runway thirteen.
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[ WP ] You 're Arthur , a young boy staring at the Sword in the Stone . Someone walks up , pulls the sword out , tosses it to you , then sprints off .
| I looked at the stone with a determination that today would be the day. I would be the one to pull the sword from the stone and would be the one and true king of England. I had watched the sword for months now and seen many attempts to pull the sword in an attempt to settle drunken bets and to escape the life of being a peasant. I had watched each of them fail. But today was my day. I was alone in the grass field, the village was to my back and before me lay an almost endless sea of green. As I sat and prayed to any gods that listened that the sword would choose me and I would meet my destiny as king, suddenly from behind me a man walked up to the sword. He was clad in an armor that was clearly not from the village. His armor from head to toe was black with what seemed like a red glow emanating from the armor itself with large horns on top. Overall it seemed almost impossible to wear and yet he walked as if it was light as any tunic. Suddenly without any preparation or reverence he lifted the sword from the stone and held in in his hand as if examining it. He then drew the sword from his sheath and held the two side by side. The legendary sword from the stone glimmered in the midday sun with the dignity of a sword that would befit the king of England which I guess this mysterious armored man was now. It felt as though I had been kicked I never even had my chance to try and pull the sword and now I would never become the king. My vision blurred as my eyes began to fill with tears for all the lost opportunities I would never even try to experience when suddenly the man in the armor spoke. `` God damnit.'' he said annoyed this sword does 235 less damage this is what I get for putting this quest off for so long. I guess I'll go do the main story until the loot stops sucking.'' He looked at me as if he just noticed I was there `` Here kid this sword is n't worth the 5 gold I would get at a merchant you take it.'' He then dropped the legendary sword and began to run further into the fields jumping as he did so. I reached for the sword and held it in my hands my mouth agape. I must have sat there for at least an hour trying to comprehend what the hell he was talking about when someone from the village approached to try his luck with the sword when he saw me he shared a look of shock and disbelief that I held as well. `` Arthur... d-did you pull the sword from the stone?'' he stammered. I looked at him and said `` Yeah''.
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[ WP ] You 've come to save the princess , but she 's not guarded by a dragon - She 's guarded by a very aggressive goose .
| Good for the Goose or is it Good for the Gander?
My name is Adus Matrim and I hunt monsters. Its the family business, Grandfather hunts monsters, Father hunts monsters. Pretty much everyone in my family including my two Great Uncles, both Trolls hunt monsters.
I was operating alone on this mission, kind of my families form of right of passage. It was a simple `` recover the princess.'' job or at least I thought. Fairly low risk but challenging enough to show that I was ready.
I had tracked Princess Pella across the Night Fen to a cave, one of those foul smelling, moldy festered holes in the ground that bards love and the people like me who actually have to go into them, hate.
A couple of guards. some kind of large yellow skinned big nosed Goblins were at the front entrance.
`` Oy.'' one of them said `` You ca n't go in there, gov.''
`` Why not?'' I asked mildly.
`` Well.'' the bigger one `` The boss says so.''
I pull out a bar of travelers friend and took a bite.
The Goblins were looking at it hungrily. No accounting for taste since its made of dried meat, melted fat, dried fruit and rose hips. Not that tasty and unless you prepare it right it will go stale and rancid in short order.
`` Here.'' I tossed them some. They tore in pretty quick `` Does n't look like the boss feeds you very well''
`` Oy you can says that again. Cheap wizard, he is.''
The larger one slapped his counterpart on the head `` You was n't supposed to tell him that.'
`` Why not, old tight robes did n't say nothing about that. Only says no one is allowed in there, anyway ai n't like he's paid us anyways.''
`` You'se a point.'' The bigger one says.
I handing them some of my trail bread `` How much he paying you anyway?''
`` 4 shillings each.'' the littler one said on a mouthful of bread. `` And he ai n't paid us. I gave them some dried fruit and a bottle of wine.
Cheap indeed, not much more than you'd pay a boy for chopping wood for a couple of days `` Seeing as how he has n't given you any money, what say I pay you to leave?''
The bigger one looked at me suspiciously `` Why would we do that?''
`` I'm here to rescue the princess he is holding captive so its easier for me not to have you guys here.''
The big ones draws a curved long knife `` We could kills you.''
I grin showing my axe handle `` Maybe, but why risk it? You make a mistake I kill you, you stay away for two days and I pay you.''
The littler goblin says `` I like money.''
`` And yeah.'' I tell them `` I know you are thinking you could take my money and than tell the wizard.'' What makes you think he'd pay you? ``
`` He's a point there.'' The little one says `` Makes it five shilling and you'se a deal.''
Done. I hand them the coins, half a £ is a chunk of what I'm paid but I'll still come out ahead and wizards as a rule tend to have good loot anyway.
The goblins take my money and a bottle of cheap wine as a sweetener and leave.
Before I go deeper into the cave I drop some Catseye potion in my eyes and a drop of my blood onto my Amulet. The potion will help me see in the dark without a torch so maybe between it and my `` Unseen Rune.'' amulet now blooded I'd have a shot a surprising the wizard and not being burned, blasted or transmuted.
The cave was as dark as I had feared but not too large and so after half an hour of searching I find the main cave.
Sure enough Princess Esme is sitting blindfolded and hand tied on a rug and next to her is the wizard.
Just as I draw my axe and buckler I hear a titanic honk as an enormous goose comes hurtling from the room right at my face, I drop the axe and peddling back.
The goose was huge easily a hundred pounds and even an ordinary wing buffet from a Saenarian Guard Goose could injure a man. This monster could kill easily.
In desperation I club with my buckler stunning it long enough to use a Wind Horn Charm, the blast of northern air, ice cold and strong enough to knock men down sent the goose sprawling giving me time to draw my sword.
The wizard shrieks and lunges at me. His hand has become goose talons dripping with ichor Deadly but not smart.
I run him through, take off the head on a backswing and that was that.
The Goose lets out a baleful honk as it prepares to attack me. Looks at the me, looks at the sword and its dead Master and flies away.
I heave a sigh.
`` Hail Princess Esme I presume.''
She was shaken but was able to rise. I grabbed the wizards treasure, a lot of it predictably was golden geese, golden eggs that sort of think. The magic egg was wrapped in velvet which blocked it so I took that just to make sure no further trouble came.
Making camp that night I scrounged through the loot. The Princess was tolerable and pleasant
while homely to her credit has a good smile, the Prince Drake Twisted Leg who paid me to recover her for the wedding was going to be happy man
Within a day we arrive at the Princes Keep, I collect my pay and of course let the price take the credit. Everyone who matters knows it was me anyway
Before parting I gave them a pair of statues, a goose and a gander as wedding present and politely to the Princes relief decline the wedding invitation.
Folks may need people like me but they sure do n't want us around after the work is done.
And with that work done, as I return to Atrim Keep my family waiting eagerly. Tomorrow is the Harvest Feast. I'm hoping for lamb because honestly I do n't think I could face goose right now.
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[ WP ] When the Statue of Liberty was sent to America from France , the box was labeled `` some assembly required . '' In well over a century , no one ever noticed the other label that said `` batteries not included . '' Until today , that is .
| `` Dude is that… the Statue of Liberty attacking the city like God-damned Godzilla?''
`` Do n't say God-damned Godzilla.''
`` Why not?''
`` Because GOD-damn-GODzilla. Sounds weird. God-god.''
`` Can we focus?''
`` Why are you so worried? You're sweating. Your eyes are wide.''
`` Jesus Christ the Redeemer just joined the Statue of Liberty and is throwing cars at buildings and people at other
people. I think we should leave the building.''
Jim stretched his head to peek over the rim of the window. `` No kidding, look at that. How d'you reckon he made it
all the way here from Brazil?''
`` I do n't think that's important, Jim.''
`` Well, frankly, I'm a bit curious. It's a long way from Brazil, and –''
`` They're heading this way.''
`` —I for one would like to know if he walked, flew or if he has some sort of Christmobile we should all be aware of.''
`` It looks like Jesus Christ is now using the Eiffel Tower as some sort of –''
`` Then again, it's possible he walked on the ocean, right? Is n't that his thing?''
`` Yes, Jesus Christ the Redeemer is using the Eiffel Tower as a weapon. It appears that the Eiffel Tower is, in fact, a giant rocket launcher of sorts.''
`` Though even if he walked on water, it's still a long walk from Brazil to here.''
`` We really should get out of the building.''
`` What? No, come on, I just rented Godzilla on Amazon.''
`` Why did you do that?''
`` Well, you brought it up, I felt like watching it. I paid already, I'm not wasting –''
`` Dude, seriously, all the modern wonders of the world are out the window right now destroying the city. We need
to evacuate.''
`` Hey, Bryan Cranston! I did n't know he was in this.''
`` I think I see dinosaurs too.''
`` DINOSAURS!? BY GOD IT CAN NOT BE!''
'No, I was lying. But seriously, that's where you draw the line of what to believe in?''
`` Ah, no internet. Crap.''
`` Well, I should think so, the Sphinx is chewing on cables just by the Statue of Liberty's feet.''
`` You know what? I think I have the 1998 version on DVD somewhere.''
`` Dude, I'm out. Fuck this.''
Henry grabbed his stuff, and Jim watched as he made way to the door and then out to the corridor and then
disappeared down the stairs in hurried steps.
A few seconds later Henry's figure emerged out the window, wrapped in the gigantic hand of the Statue of Liberty.
The statue waved him around a couple of times, then bit his head off and spit it against the back of Jesus Christ
the Redeemer.
Jim vowed to never buy magic mushrooms online ever again and then fell asleep on the couch during the first ten minutes of Godzilla, unaware of the fact that he had been duped by the website guy and the mushrooms he consumed were really only Portobello mushrooms and, you know, all that insanity out the window was really happening.
____
/r/psycho_alpaca
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[ WP ] A man walks into a crowded room and starts crying
| Reluctantly his hand pushed against the wooden door, slowly revealing the crowded room. As he stepped forward a sea of brands and jewellery bustled by him barely casting him a glance. His body was tense, sweat racing out his pores as he looked around the room. He did n't want this, but there was no other way. As he approached the centre of the room his eyes betrayed him and welled up with tears. His hands shakily unbuttoned his jacket with great difficulty. `` I'm sorry, but I have no choice'' he spluttered as he slipped off the jacket revealing the explosives strapped to him. Within seconds, people were screaming and heading for the doors, eager to save themselves. As the man took the detonator in his hand and pressed with his thumb, he heard a voice, `` Michael, what are you? Why? I... I..''. He spun around and stared into the eyes of his wife for the briefest moment before blinding white. The building shook violently with the explosion, walls collapsing in on themselves, trapping those who fell behind.
|
[ WP ] You 're a world-renowned surgeon who can heal almost anyone.What people do n't know is you made this possible by making a deal with the Devil , and for every patient that you heal , a year is taken off your life .
| My fingers trembled as I held the scalpel above his skin.
*I... *
`` Doctor?'' my assistant asked, looking up.
*I do n't... *
`` Doctor, what's wrong?'' she repeated.
`` I do n't know if I can do this...''
I felt my voice trail off near the end, as I felt my hand retreat and replace the knife on the table beside me. She gave me a concerned look before looking down at the patient on the table. I could see from her eyes that she had never seen me like this.
`` Okay.''
Her response caught me off-guard. *Is n't she supposed to talk me out of backing out? * I thought. *This patient will die if he does n't get that heart. *
I looked down at the patient's sleeping face -- a young boy, no older than twelve at most. He came into this operating room trusting that I would do what I promised, and to save his life; what kind of person would renege on that promise?
I'll tell you who: a man who has just under a year left and would surely die if he performed this operation.
My body leaned away as I took a half step back from the table, stopping only to see the assistant prepping to take the boy out of the O.R. and back to his room. *W... *
`` Wait...''
The word left my throat with such little sound that I was surprised when she paused to look at me.
I moved back to the table and picked up the scalpel. `` I ca -- I can do this,'' I stuttered.
|
[ CS ] The Narrator is a disturbed schizophrenic who is wrongfully convicted of murder and sentenced to 20 years in prison . Suddenly a somewhat familiar voice starts telling him/her steps to escape ...
| `` Mama's gon na buy you a mockingbird,'' a voice sings out, barely audible.
`` NO! NONONONO!'' I scream as I pummel my own ears.
The singing becomes louder. `` Rock-a-bye baby on the treetop.''
`` NO! I killed you, Mama! I killed you!''
I looked down at my hands, half expecting to see her blood and the kitchen knife in my hands again. The police did n't believe me when I said I had done it to stop the voices. They accused me of killing her for the insurance money. Nobody would listen, so I stopped speaking of the voices. I ignored them, and the voices grew more and more distant until they disappeared.
But now, this one was back. `` Sweetie, mommy loves you. Let me help you. It breaks mommy's heart to see you locked up like this.''
`` NO! Stay away from me!'' I screamed. `` Do n't you touch me! Do n't you ever touch me again!''
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[ WP ] A sword crashes through your ceiling in front of you . You hear a voice : `` Wield me and through many trials and sacrifices the world shall be saved . Refuse and all is doomed , but you will live your life happy and at peace . ''
| Ethan sat alone in the living room for awhile, pondering what had just occurred. In front of him lay a sword that had just recently come crashing down from the sky and into his living room floor. He wondered to himself for a bit if he could even really call the giant hunk of metal a sword. When it originally crashed through his ceiling he had been scared the living hell out of him. It seemed like something straight out of a book where the sword would fall in front of the chosen one. His first reaction had been to report the sword to the police. But unfortunately the sword had outsmarted him. It had managed to strike down his phone when it came through the ceiling of all things. The sword had also magically been able to knock out his power as well. He had at least an hour till his wife Beth got home and he could then use her phone to call the police. After gathering his thoughts he decided he would reach out and try and inspect the sword.
When he reached out to grab the sword a sudden flash of light blinded him completely. When his eyes finally readjusted he realized he was no longer in his room. He was now alone on top of a hill. When he turned his to look around he realized he was in the middle of a giant field. The field was a beautiful sight to take in. It was as if he had come at the perfect time in the spring. The field was full of flowers each one miraculously blooming. When the wind blew by he could see the petals dance in the air. He was completely mesmerized it.
“ It ’ s beautiful isn ’ t it? ” The voice brought Ethan back to reality. He was no longer in his living room thinking of how to explain the giant hunk of metal to his wife. He managed to say a few words in response to the one he ’ d heard. “ Where am I, what ’ s happened and who are you? ”
“ Do you remember that giant hunk of metal that landed in your living room? You ’ re speaking to him right now ” the voice seemed to come from his own head. It was such an odd experience to hear someone else ’ s voice appear in his head that Ethan was once again caught off guard for a moment. Just as he began to ask for more info the voice cut him off.
“ You know you haven ’ t even seen the most beautiful sight in this field yet. Look behind and you ’ ll see a familiar sight. ” Ethan turned around following the voices instructions and saw himself and his wife walking with a little girl into the field. He watched as they set up a picnic basket. He could see the happy looks on their faces. It had been so long since he had seen Beth smile like that. Ever since she suffered through the miscarriage she had never been the same. She still tried to seem happy but Ethan could see that she was just putting up a front for him.
For a brief moment he forgot where he was again enraptured by the sight of his wife ’ s smiling face. After dazing off for a good second he once again regained composure and asked the sword another question.
“ Where am I and why are you showing me this? ”
“ This is a vision of the future that lies ahead for you if you don ’ t pick me up. If you pick this future I would not hold it against you. ”
“ Hold up a second, why am I picking futures can you please explain what ’ s going on. ”
“ You are currently in your living room lying on the ground. When you touched me you activated a spell that put you to sleep. While you were asleep this spell allows me to converse with you so I can show you the options that were once laid in front of me. I am a sword passed down from those who are chosen by the earth to fight for our future. There is currently a cult harnessing the same energy that put me here before you today in the hope of destroying the world in the name of their god. If they are allowed to harness this power they will be brought into a deep sleep and 300 years from now will awake to shatter the earth. This is the future that will come to you, if you choose not to pick me up. You will live a happy and peaceful life. This is what would have naturally occurred if your life was left alone as is. I am required to show you what could be before asking you to alter that future. If by the time your wife gets home and you have not touched me I will disappear you will never remember that I showed up here and your life will go on as it was meant to. However if you pick me up your life will not go down its natural path and you will be forced to fight against the evil of this world. That life will be much more difficult and full of trials you would have never of came to face normally. I can not show you how this path will turn out but I can tell you that in the end you will emerge victorious. I myself don ’ t know if that ending will be happy or sad. I will leave you to make your decision. Do not worry about taking your time.
Ethan sat there in silence for a long time after the sword finished speaking. He thought about his wife for a long while. He thought about the smile on his wife ’ s face. Not the one here but the forced one that she wore in the present. She was already under enough stress as is. How would she react to this? And then he looked over to the little girl with them in the fields. He didn ’ t need to ask the sword who she was. He could tell it was his own daughter just by looking at her. When his wife had been pregnant she had been showered with gifts from our family. The most important one however was a dress given to her by her mother. At the time she had been extremely ill and before her sickness finally got her she had managed to make a dress for the granddaughter she had never seen. In her final moment she thought of the future of those who would exist when she was gone.
“ Wake me up. I ’ ve made my decision. ”
|
[ CW ] Finish with this : `` The lamp just sat there , like an inanimate object . ''
| I wanted to tell her sorry. It's the least she deserved, after all. I sat in silence, ashamed. The clock was a quiet hum of jazz, a soft succubus of emotion. It had seemed louder earlier. It was an old radio my father handed down to my brother before he left for college. Now that I was in my freshman year, it sat on my desk, next to the cup of university pens I picked up from the book store.
The radio's reception faded as she walked out of my room, my dignity in tow. My gaze never broke contact with the faded green carpet. Littered with the evidence of passion- shoes, socks. My boxer's crumpled in the same location where I ripped them off, stomping on them in my haste mere minutes earlier.
She lay there, perfect. The light from the lamp had cast the perfect shadow over her supple, perfect breasts. It even caught the reflection of her perfect belly-button piercing, hanging to the side of her perfectly sculpted stomach. As I climbed up her body, my heart-raced as my loins burned. It was time, it was finally time. She had looked me in the eyes, bit her lip. I could n't control the fire, it would n't be contained. My eyes pulled tight, as my neck flexed and my body convulsed uncontrollably. My ears filled with the sound of `` West End Blues''. I hoped I was dead.
Louis Armstrong faded into the soft, stifled sound of forbidden laughter. I looked down; the damage had been done. She got up and gathered her clothes, tears streaming down her face as she covered her mouth. Even now, I still thought her giggle was perfect. She had been perfect.
I picked up my clothes. My dreams of adulthood had been thrown out with the tissues. One sock, another, and then my shirt. Wait, that smell. I recognized that smell. It was hers. I looked down to see her bra splayed out on the ground. The perfect cups lay in wait for me; they knew.
Miles Davis' `` So What'' took over my senses. As my muscles gave way to my once-more diminished manhood, I buckled over, hitting my head on the desk. The radio faded as my body fell into my own pitiful pond of prepubescence; and the lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object.
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[ WP ] Write a slice-of-life science fiction story ( or a realistic story that happens to be sci-fi/cyberpunk )
| It's just an average day in Minneapolis Nova, but the snow is refreshing. We do n't get many winters anymore. My Scoop Assistant cleans my driveway, while I shovel the stoop. Some manual labor is good for a person. I finish it in a few minutes and head inside. I check my watch; I have just enough time to wash my clothes before talking with Grandma Nelson. My clothes are washed, dried, and folded in minutes.
I look for the interface in my bedroom. Naturally, it got lost under the covers. I attach it to my face and log on. It's weird to see this version of her now. It's her at the age of 25 before she married Grandpa, rest his soul. I miss hugging her in person, but bodies can not last forever, at least not yet. She is pretty and looks like my dad.
`` Hi Amy! How are you?''
`` I'm good Grandma. What new adventures are you up to today?''
`` We're going to climb Everest later. Apparently, the designers are working on an Olympus Mons climb, but Randall says that's more of a hike than a climb.''
`` Wow, that's awesome. I wish I were there with you.''
She frowns. `` I know it sounds great, and it is fun. But, I do n't like when you say that.''
`` Oh right, sorry.''
`` What are you doing today?''
`` I'm going to run later. It actually snowed, and I want to enjoy it.''
`` Oh nice, well sweetheart, I should probably go. Next week? Same time? We'll talk longer then.''
`` Ok, Grandma.''
I remove the interface. I wonder how real her world seems to her. I wonder if I'm talking to someone who is supposed to be my Grandma, and she is really gone. I wonder a lot of things these days, but I push those thoughts away. I'm ready for a run.
I change my clothes to thermals and plug in my implants for a jog around the city. It's going to be a long run. I look around, not many hovercars in the air today. The snow always makes people jumpy. Grandma told stories about the city continuing to function with three times as much snow. I see Mr. Jenkins with his new legs.
`` Looking good, Richard.'' I shout.
He smiles and waves. `` You like the new legs, Amy? I got ta say, they feel great.''
We part ways. I wonder if I would have to get anything artificial soon. Many of my friends already had ocular implants. I was lucky so far though they were fairly affordable. Still, I liked the feeling of pain and exhaustion in my legs. Others could n't understand it, but it was unbeatable for me. I stop to take a breather. The force field skyscrapers loom in the distance. They are supposedly the future. Buildings are soon becoming a thing of the past. Grandma did n't know what to make of that.
I keep running and am almost home when I see my neighbor Gus outside with his dogs. I stop and pet them.
`` Hi Amy, I'm surprised you're running in this weather.''
`` It's a perfect day. I like the feeling of cold air in my lungs. I'm weird like that.''
`` Nothing wrong with some weirdness.''
The dogs sniff me. One of them is new. I pet them both. The new dog feels strange.
`` What brand is the new one?''
`` Brand? Oh no, Dr. McFlufferman is the real deal. He's a genuine black lab, flesh and blood, the whole works.''
`` Do n't you have to clean up his, you know?''
He laughs. `` Yeah, I do, but I kind of like it. The same way you like running in a snow storm.''
I smile back at him. One of the people who still prefer nature to technology. I thought I did, but I find myself drifting further and further away.
`` Well, I better finish this run.''
`` Ok, Amy, I'll see you later.''
I return home and check my numbers. A nice long run, good heart rate, and it was n't even slippery. I change quick and watch some reality TV based on Mars, but the run has tired me out. I think about popping some stimulants, but I decide against it. So, I go to bed, another day in the books.
***
If you like this story, I also have a subreddit [ r/nickkuvaas ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/nickkuvaas/ ) with more of my writing.
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[ IP ] The Last of the Horse Lords
| He squinted off onto the horizon, like a bird seeing the ocean for the first time. All this sun, all day; it would take some time to adjust. Pency didn ’ t care for it. He stopped in the cool shade and pawed at the shallow snow drift.
The last three travelers they ’ d met were astounded to see Pency. They stretched out like children, hoping to brush their fingertips along his coat. They all asked “ His wings? Are they his? Did they grow on them? Or did you make them and strap them to his back? ” Pency shook his mane out. He rode on, ignorant to their voices. The rustle of the feathers of the false wings were soon the only noise again.
Back home, in the mountains, where fog soothed the sunlight and winds sang all night, it was plainer. Every rider knew to nod courteously and continue on their fated paths. Each horse kept its rider happy. But here, where the very air was thick and no man could keep his feet dry, he had to watch every snowflake drop. Then again, this was his fate, or he would not be here.
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[ WP ] In the year 2100 , humans begin to be able to taste the fear experienced at the moment of death in anything they eat .
| It's the year 2015, and the meat market is at an all time high. Meat is being moved from China to the USA like Coke from Cuba to Florida during the 90's crack epidemic. Babies no longer drink fresh milk from their mother's teat; rather they opt for a new meat-based solution. Yes, the solution is so potent the babies actually voluntarily elect to drink it. Women inhale meat, on diets or not, eating McDonald's double cheeseburgers, McDoubles, Big Macs, McGangBangs - you name it, she's eaten it ( or eating it ). Men - well men have replaced their entire diet with meat. Cereal? Meat milk and meaty-o's. Remember when lunch used to be a sandwich, apple, and thermos of tomato soup? Well now it's a meatwich, meatnana - meat in the form of a banana, with a jerky casing - and a thermos of meat. Not containing meat, made of meat. Meat rules the world, the universe, the mind, and the collective and singular souls of man.
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[ WP ] For years , you , the right hand of the Dark Lord , have been plotting to kill your master and gain control of their vast empire . On the day your plans unfold , your unsuspecting master tells you , `` My friend , were it not my curse to bear , you are the only one to whom I would entrust this empire . ''
| The Dark Lord, Gormond of Nilcius, sat on his throne, brooding. It was his natural state of being, full of brood - and gas. It had something to do with the vast quantities of cabbage he ate, which was the predominant vegetable the farmers of the empire could go.
He suffered from evil-resting-face syndrome. Whenever Gormond sat quietly, his mind absorbed by something far away, he would unintentionally swing his zweihander and cleave a servant or two. It made it very difficult to find new help around the `` Dark Keep''. The only reason it was a Dark Keep to start with was because the Dark Lord, in his infinite Dark Wisdom, wanted to install darkening blinds around the place, and then used Dark Lights to light up the hallways, mess hall and the barracks. Even in the kitchens they used Dark Light, making dinner an often disastrous affair since the cooks often had no clue what they ended up making. It was also rather unsettling to see the amount of body fluids splattered on the curtains in the bedrooms and in the two conference rooms.
I hated cabbages, I hated the Dark Lord and his Dark Keep and his Dark Uniforms and his Dark Guards and Dark Pot Roast Fridays. For Gormond's birthday, I had planned a surprise party. A `` Dark'' surprise party, obviously. Plans were made and I obtained a magical dagger - a dagger lined with sparkles and rubies, with a golden handle. I ended up having to paint it black, so that it would not stand out.
On the eve of the party, I was helping his Darkness get dressed, the dagger tucked away safely in my clothes. Gormond, the flatulent, turned to me and said
`` My friend, were it not my curse to bear, you are the only one to whom I would entrust this empire.''
`` Why is it your curse, oh dark lord of dread darkness?''
`` Do you remember the Pools of Future Visions of Inscrutable Wisdom of Dreams?''
`` Yes, my lord of the Dark''
`` When I went there, in my youth, the Oracle of OmikronDelphicus helped me see my fate.'' He paused for a moment, taking a bite from a dark chocolate bar, at least 99 % cocoa. The bitter foul taste did not bother him in the least.
`` You see, Komodia, my fate was to be the greatest evil lord of Dark the land had seen, so that one day, the Lord of Infinite Wisdom may rise and take the Sword of Darkslaying and bring peace and justice to these lands. We each have our roles to play, and mine is to saccrifice myself for the greater good. No-one aspires to be the bad person, Komodia, but some of us must be so that others can be good.''
I paused for a moment, reconsidering that perhaps, Gormond was more than he seemed. I nodded, finally, and left my dagger untouched.
`` I understand, King of the Depths of Darkness and Shadows. But, if I may lord, perhaps we could dispense with less cabbage?''
`` Of course, Komodia. We shall instead feast on beans and prunes''
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[ WP ] A hot drunk girl asks you to give her a piggyback ride
| [ `` Shhh! You're goin-ga wake people up. `` ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3fa6r8/wp_empires_rise_and_fall_name_your_price/ctmrkre )
`` Shhh yerself, ma'am. We're almost there.''
`` Whydayu keep calling me'ma'am'?''
`` Coz you're a *Ma'am*. Ma'am. You prefer'Major'?''
`` I prefer... neether.''
``...''
`` ANNNJ-ulla. I told you. Call me ANNNJ-ulla.''
`` Yes ma'am. Angela.''
`` ^Where ^are ^you ^tayking ^me?''
`` We're going to the source rooms.''
`` Ooh... you gunna integrate me?''
`` Oh no, ma'am. This is an interview room, not an interrogation room. You'll be free to leave whenever you want.''
`` How come yore not drunk?''
`` I do n't like it.''
``...''
`` When you're not in control, other people can control you.''
`` But... you were so boring tonight.''
`` Look, ma'am. You're lucky the Embassy let me get you outta there. The RSO's can be real dicks to DOD. If I was n't there, if one of'em was n't an old Marine buddy... you'da been fucked tonight.''
`` I'm *still* gettin fucked tonight... right?''
`` Angela, ma'am. Ask me when you're sober. Please, god, ask me again tomorrow when you're sober.''
`` What's so special about this source room?''
`` It's got ta couch. You can sleep it off without disturbing your roommate.''
``...''
``...''
`` What's the cypher code?''
`` For this door?''
`` *NO*, for the OTHER door we're stannin in front of.''
`` Why?''
`` So I can come visit you. Tomorrow. When I wan na get *fuct*.''
``...''
`` I could order you to gim me the code. You wood hafta do it, too.''
`` You can order me tomorrow. Come in. Watch your step, we do n't have any lights in our courtyard.''
``...''
``...''
`` Stairs!? I cantdu stairs right now. Istoo high up. I caneven see.''
`` Come on, ma'am. It's just up here.''
`` Carry me? Please? *Please*?''
`` Uh...''
`` Lem me ride onyer back!''
`` Well... Only because you said I was boring.''
``!''
``!''
`` Giddyup!''
`` Please do n't puke on me.''
`` Donsay that! Yore gunna mayme sick.''
``...''
``...''
`` Wadda you think?''
`` Thisis nice. Where are you gunna sleep?''
`` In my room.''
`` Oh... stay with me? What if I hafta use the latrine?''
`` There's one at the bottom of the stairs, to the left.''
`` Issa potta potty?''
`` Yes.''
`` No. Way. O come on, please stay. I promissnada rape you.''
`` Jesus! Look, just please lie down.''
`` Lay.''
`` What?''
`` Lay down. Like, lay down with me. Cuz I'm lonely.''
`` Ma'am, I swear to god, please. Tomorrow. After you dry out. But for being a scoundrel and all. Twice shy. Ok?''
`` Paul. The Jennelman. Jennelman Paul. I ORDER you... to stay in the room with me tonight. An be my guardog. OK?''
``...''
`` You can sleep... in the loveseat.''
``...''
``...''
`` Alright.''
`` Really?''
`` Yeah, sure. Besides, it was a pretty fun night. Even if they threatened to arrest you.''
`` See. Yore pretiktin me.''
``...''
`` Paul?''
`` Yes ma'am?''
`` Will you holmy hair, if I puke?''
`` Yes ma'am.''
``...''
``...''
`` Anif I hadda puke right now, where wood I do it?''
`` In the trash... right here.''
``...''
``...''
[ `` Where isit? `` ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3f1ykh/wp_you_are_member_of_a_german_family_on_holiday/ctkmfwv )
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[ WP ] The Villain 's monologue is so convincing that the Hero decides let him do it .
| Earnheart tugged futilely against his rigid restraints. `` Why are you doing this, Morgan!'' he shouted.
The woman hesitated, then stepped out of the magic circle. She turned and stared into Earnheart's narrowed eyes, before her whispers began to echo through the cavern, `` It's what should be done... must be done. Those senators ruined so many lives. Have n't you seen what's been happening? Have n't you felt the distressing atmosphere at the capital?''
Earnheart's eyes widened by a measly fraction.
`` I know you have, Earnheart.'' said Morgan, `` Please do n't lie to yourself. You are so much more insightful than I. If I can see the signs, you can too. The people have grown so miserable, they are frightened by the delusions implanted by your dreadful government.
All those taxes collected by the senators, and yet there are barely any new guards. You work alongside them, you should know. How many new lawmen have you met lately? Few to none, I would guess. So where is the tax money going? Piece it together. Not a single senator has ever been a victim of a crime. All the outlaws and raiders who attack us are armed with sophisticated magical weapons from unknown origins. There are jailbreaks every week, yet guards are rarely harmed during the escape. You're smart, you know none of this is right... do n't you?''
All of a sudden, the shackles tore out from the stony wall. Earnheart brought his fists up to his chest, but his stance looked sluggish.
`` Slaughtering them all is not a deed I can accept, truth or not.'' Earnheart said.
Morgan smiled sadly. `` I will pay the price for my actions,'' she said, `` this I can assure you.''
There was an uncertain silence as the two gazed into each other's eyes. Only the dripping sound of water droplets filled the cave.
Slowly, Morgan stepped backwards into the mystical circle. Earnheart only stood motionlessly by the wall.
A brilliant white flame consumed Morgan's feet. Towering skeletal arms burst up from the fire and gripped Morgan's limbs. The lady was slowly pulled down into the blaze.
When Morgan's head was the last visible thing, Earnheart finally spoke, `` I hope you're right.''
`` Me too.''
From above them, in the royal senate, horrible screams were heard.
|
[ WP ] God forgot about Earth soon after Adam and Eve , fully expecting them to die . One of the Angels just informed him they survived , and the population is over 7 billion .
| **The truth of Lucifer**
`` So, how do we tell him?'' I asked Slavo.
`` I have no idea. He wo n't be pleased and I do n't want to be the messenger.'' Slavo said while rechecking all the figures.
`` Are you sure?'' I asked Slavo.
`` No, I just made this shit up because it is so wonderful.'' Slavo said annoyed.
`` Alright... Alright... Do n't bite me.'' I replied.
`` You have to tell him. He loves you the most.'' Slavo said.
`` Nonsense.'' I said.
`` You know its true. Go tell him now.'' Slavo said.
-- --
`` Err.. God.. sir.. God..'' Darshit said stuttering. `` May I come in?''
`` Oh hi Darshit. Come in, come in. Look what I am making.'' God invited Darshit to his chambers.
There was a figurine of a large creature that was moving slowly on the table.
`` I will call it a dinosaur. This would be my greatest creation.'' God said proudly.
`` Sir, you have already created them once. You put them on planet Earth.'' Darshit reminded him.
`` Oh really! And how did they fare?''
`` They got destroyed when you were playing marbles. One of them bounced off and hit Earth.''
`` Sad Indeed. In that case, I will put them on the planet again. It was my fault so I will rectify it.'' God said.
`` Yeah... About that. We recently located planet Earth for ahem.. research purposes. I do n't think we can put the dinosaurs there anymore.'' Darshit said sweating slightly.
`` Why?'' God asked.
`` It is already inhabited by humans.''
`` Humans, what?''
`` You created them sometime ago. Adam and Eve, you named them.'' Darshit said, bracing himself.
`` THOSE IDIOTS!'' God thundered.
`` They are still alive. Did their kill switch stopped working?'' God asked.
`` They are not alive. Their kill switch worked on the right time. However, before that, they reproduced their offsprings. The chain continues.'' Darshit said.
`` I will kill them myself. How many are their, five or ten?'' God asked.
`` Around 7 billion.''
`` WHAT?''
`` Yeah. They kind of enjoy the process of reproduction. They do it even if they do n't want an offspring. Some even do it alone. Others enjoy it with their own gender.''
`` But, how does it even work?'' God said completely flabbergasted.
`` I do n't think it is an important point. The important thing is that they thrive and now, we have to guide them.'' Darshit said cautiously.
God looked at him incredulously.
`` After what they have done. Never!'' God said.
`` It was long time ago. It was just an apple.'' Darshit said.
`` You know that apple was the seed for a new planet. It set my plans to create a four-dimensional beings back by so much.
`` I know my lord. But you finally were able to do it. Its time to move on.''
`` Its not just about the apple and you know it. I would have forgiven them about it. But then they go ahead and blame you - my first and best creation - my son. I mean come on. Be brave and take some responsibility. But no, it is Darshit's fault. He is the Lucifer. They called you Lucifer. How can you not be mad at them?''
Lucifer was the lowest insult that anyone can cast on an angel. Darshit knew that and it had hurt him immensely but over the course of so many years, his heart had purified itself. The fact that he was made of pure joy helped. Unfortunately, God did n't have that advantage. He was simply made of everything - Joy, Hate, Death and everything else in between. He did not forgive easily. Forget maybe, but never forgive.
`` My lord, they now are repentant about eating the apple. They praise you day and night. If they see you, they would love you.'' Darshit tried to pacify him.
`` Really! That is interesting. And what do they say about you. Have they apologised to you?'' God asked Darshit.
`` Err.. some have started to apologise.'' Darshit fumbled with words.
`` Really! I will see for myself.'' God said and looked on.
`` So... They apologised, you said.'' God said looking at Darshit. Darshit looked down sheepishly.
`` They call you devil and blame you for everything. They think you and me are fighting over them...'' God said angrily.
`` Well technically we are right now, are n't we?'' Darshit said trying to lighten the mood.
`` You are too naive my son. But I will not have this. They will pay for their sins. They will be destroyed.''
`` Please my lord. Let them be. I am sorry I brought this up. Please forget about them.'' Darshit pleaded.
God looked at Darshit and calmed down a bit.
`` Oh I will punish them. How dare they vilify you! You said they love the act of reproduction, right. I will make them fear it. They like to name things evil, right. Let them name this.''
God created a virus out of nowhere and before Darshit could stop him, he sent it to the planet.
`` What will it do?'' Darshit finally asked.
`` Oh, not much. It will simply kill the fight in them. They would be eaten up by the creatures around them, inside them. Even a small bacteria would become a deadly creature to these humans. And it would travel by their favourite activity. Let's see how long they last now.''
Darshit left God and told Slavo what had transpired.
`` So, now what?'' Slavo asked.
`` Now, humans actually have a reason to hate me.'' Darshit said.
|
[ WP ] Scientists discover a previously unknown frequency , which happens to be the universal standard for communication .
| Tom sat at his desk, idly twisting the dial, as static whirred through his head set. A brief sigh relieved his boredom some as his shoulders slumped.
Eyes stinging with sleep, he blinked a few times, grinding the heel of his palm against his face. A daze of warmth slowly encased him... until he fell into the warm embrace of sleep.
Dusty images flitted through his mind as his cheek pressed against the cool desk. Static clouded his mind's eye, as the rusty dials and buttons of machinery kept popping into his dreams.
Automatically, his hand reached forward, to twist the dial, before deep sleep claimed him.
`` Here we see one of the nests built to hold information. Inside, some of the more intelligent of the species work inside to discover the secrets of life.''
The voice was syrupy at first, hard to distinguish. As the static in the headset snapped to a sudden silence, the voice's words clarified immensely... stirring Tom from his slumber.
`` Please, people, remain in the designated fly zones. No ships allowed from the Zengon quarter.''
Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Tom peered about the dark lab. The cool glint of metal instruments met his eye, as dark shadows pooled the far length of the room. Finally, his hand reached to his headset, as a happy ping vibrated his ears.
`` Here we see a primary hub of Human movement. Surrounding the many nests involving research development... the center of hierarchy for this certain colony is right here. Within this hub.''
The voice was clean, and clear... a pleasing feminine quality to it. Though, something unusual within the person's tone sent shivers down his spine. Though he could understand the words, they slid and slipped around in his mind, taking a while to comprehend.
`` This particular hub has been dubbed by the Humans themselves as `` Washington D.C'' this is where the leader of the colony nests.''
Another voice suddenly butt in.
`` I thought this tour was going to show us the hub of desire!'' Even though this voice had that same... distorted quality, as it entered his mind, Tom could tell this was definitely male.
`` Sir, Las Vegas is not until we enter the Quangin quarter. Please keep the line clear for educational purposes.'' The female replied, her tone sharp, causing Tom to flinch as he glanced down at the desk... concentrating on the strange conversation he was overhearing.
He was pretty certain he was still asleep.
`` But...!'' The other voice replied, bloated with a steamy retort.
`` Sir! I will deorbit you from the exhibit! Please refrain from using the main line. If you must, you can hail the stewardess of your sector.''
Silence reigned over the air, as Tom clutched the headset to his ears.
`` Very good. Now, as you can see --''
Tom jerked the headset off of his ears, tossing them onto the desk. `` Obviously, I need some sleep.'' He reassured himself, as confusing thoughts slugged around in his brain.
Shutting down the machinery, he grabbed his lunchbox, shuffling hurriedly from the building.
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[ WP ] Write a compelling fight scene .
| `` Boys, this here be the end!'' I yelled as the dirt cascaded around us. There was a rustling and a loud caw as a shadow loomed over us.
The eagle stood majestically, his golden eyes boring into mine. The midday sun gave his head a kind of hellish halo.
`` You have no claim to this land, stick!'' His voice boomed out as he spread his wings.
`` The sky is yours! The earth be ours, Redclaw! CHAAAARGE!'' I yelled as my fellow warriors and I surged forward.
Redclaw brought his wings forward quickly, and the gust of wind that followed pushed half of us back onto the ground. I stumbled, but caught myself. Redclaw flapped again and covered the distance between us in a second, coming down in a fury and pinning three of my soldiers. He lowered his beak and snipped two of their heads off while the third valiantly tried to stab into his scaly prison. Redclaw bent again and reared up, and the head of the third soldier sailed over us, entrails tailing behind it. He flared his wings and leaned down low, letting out a call so thunderous that the soldiers in front fell over themselves trying to back up.
`` Do n't fall back, keep pushing!'' I raised my scythe-like claw to scramble my troops. I brought it down and we dashed forward before Redclaw had a chance to get his bearings. We clung to his feathers, our claws stabbing into him.
`` You've made a mistake, bugs!'' Redclaw screamed, and flapped his mighty wings. All of the foolish troops who had grasped his wings quickly tumbled off as we rose into the air.
`` Hold on!'' I yelled. Redclaw shot up into the sky like an arrow, and we lost more troops. I scrabbled to hold on, managing to find a good hold on one of his chest feathers. Two of my captains were next to me, and we all nodded to each other and crawled forward. We were so light that Redclaw could not feel us, an advantage that we planned to bank on. We were careful to stay out of sight, moving back underneath a wing and circling to come right up his spine. Suddenly Redclaw came to a stop in midair, hovering over the forest. If it was n't such a dangerous situtation, I would have enjoyed the view.
Then Redclaw looked back, a single golden eye zeroing in on us as we made our way up.
`` Persistent eh? You will regret this next part.'' My hearts stopped for a second.
`` Hold on, he's going to dive!'' I cried. My two captains dug in with their scythes as Redclaw closed his wings close to him.
And then...
The speed was unimaginable. The forest turned into a green smudged and the wind wipped past, flicking one of my wings open and tearing it. I cried out in pain, and tried to focus on holding on. I saw both of my captains slip, and they quickly dissapeared into the white light behind us. I dug in my scythes. I was going to finish this.
`` Still there bugs?'' Redclaw's laughter whipped past me, and I caught only snippets. I crawled forward, my antennae slapping my back and my legs all but useless. This was my chance.
I scooted up to his neck, and Redclaw realized his mistake as I splayed both scythes. He would n't be able to turn his neck to see me. I brought them down in a pincer movement, stabbing both of those golden eyes at the same time. He cried out and flared only one wing, which quickly snapped his bone and turned it useless. We were tumbling through the air, his cries getting more and more sharper. `` This is our land, Redclaw.'' I yelled into his ear. I pushed off and saw the brown mess of feathers smash into the ground with a sickening thud. I fluttered on down, the wind carrying me to gentle landing. It was done.
Later that night I returned to the village. My wife came out to greet me, her arms in the air, ecstatic. The village people cheered for me as I was led to the ceremonial hut in the center by my wife, the chieftess.
`` Tonight I am all yours, king.'' She said seductively in the middle of the hut, flaring her jeweled wings. Her mantid eyes flashed with dazzling colors.
I laughed. `` Have you picked a new king then?'' I asked. She nodded and mounted me.
Then promptly tore my head off.
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[ WP ] You are now stuck in the zombie apocalypse ! But in reality you 've wandered into the set of The Walking Dead
| `` Oh my God, the zombies are coming! Run! **RUN! **'' The survivor flailed as he fled the oncoming horde. In those dark, dirty days after the uprising of the walking day everybody looked like they just came back from Burning Man. Scruffy, filthy, and covered in dirt. For the sake of this narrative, let's simply call our survivor Burning Man. Burning Man ran for his life, screaming at the top of his lungs. The zombie horde kept coming, though a few seemed to catch sight of something off to their left. Burning Man looked over his shoulder and laughed. They were stopping! The zombies had stopped chasing him, he was going to make it!
It was about that time that Burning Man ran into a brick wall. The brick wall's name was Frank. As Frank grabbed Burning Man by the scruff of the neck a voice roared out `` Cut! Cut, cut, cut, CUT! Who the fuck is that!?'' It was the Director. He was pissed. Frank dragged Burning Man that way, an overly muscled eyebrow quirking in question.
Burning Man was confused. The zombies were shuffling over to a long table, sipping at coffee and water. The zombies were making a TV show? `` The zombies. They're eating strawberries? The zomberries taste just like snozzberries...'' Burning Man began to mumble incoherently.
Frank, the human brick wall, head of on-site security, laughed. `` This dude's high, that's all. I'll toss him out, and call the studio security to take it from there.''
Burning Man felt the strange sensation of flying, flying up, up, up and away from the zombies. And then the crunch of pavement jarred him back to wakefulness, as well as jarring a few teeth loose. `` The zombies. The zombies...'' were not real. The LSD had done its job well.
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[ IP ] Volcanic Tree
| The island of Kuaakssukt was always peaceful and beautiful. Its rolling hills, deep valleys, cool, calm rivers, and utterly unique doloden trees made it ideal to live away from wars farther north. Even Cape Taatiipuss, just a few miles north, was torn by wars with the native tribes of Gussa. When the colonists arrived on Kuaakssukt, there was nobody. It was unsettling to see no savages dressed in fox furs and painted in blood, but they still built a castle and a city. And for thousands of years, Kuaakssukt lived in peace under the Mogl Dynasty.
King Iikuiio IX knew all of this well. He knew the histories of his peoples. He knew about the civil war of 2754, the Great Famine of 2347, and the Nearly-Endless Winter of 2875. He knew about his father, Iifrr VIII, and his father before him, Fiipiio IV. But most importantly, he knew that there were no natives on the island when his ancestors came on to the island. Nobody knew why. If they brought a Gussasian to Kuaakssukt, he would spout off nonsense in an unknown tongue and drown himself as he would swim back to the massive island of Iildun. The natives had a reputation of avoiding Iikuiio's entirely.
Whatever the reason for their fears, the Gussasians were crossing the sea to Kuaakssukt one foggy morning.
As Iikuiio watched from his castle balcony, his weathered hands clenching the stone railing, he saw the ornate, indigo canoes of Gussa, the plain brown canoes of Ammi, the primitive wooden rafts of Subba, and the pure white longships of Dah. The soldiers went to meet the natives of Iildun to get information, but the natives were very vague. The influx of natives made Iikuiio very nervous, and a subtle plume of smoke rising over the horizon worried him even more.
In the midday, the smoke was not subtle; the whole kingdom could see it. A Dah man named Gittaannit Tih met Iikuiio in his throne room. The king was surprised to hear Gittaannit speak perfect Northern Script, and through his fluent tongue, the savage told Iikuiio that the natives of Iildun ( called Kadditta in the savages' tongue ) were coming to Kuaakssukt to fulfill a prophecy established by the Qayiz tribe of the far west a millennium before that said that the island under Iikuiio, 3000 years after the Divine Inception, would fall under the power of a mountain made of rock and fire, and ghosts of the past haunted the hills, valleys, rivers, and doloden trees. The majority of the prophecy centered around a god dead to the Northern Kingdoms, but the mountain of rock and fire worried Iikuiio. He remembered hearing stories of the mountain of Kaeaafurr that spewed fire and ash like a Golddragon and destroyed the city of Kaeaafurr. Iikuiio looked outside to see the smoke was very thick and blocked the sun. He ordered his men to bring him and Gittaannit a carriage to take them to the smoke where the savages were convening.
On the way from the castle to the other side of the island, the villagefolk were terrified. Farmers burned their crops, fishermen led group suicides, and most anyone was looking for a weapon to end each other's life. With every drop of blood spilled, the smoke darkened. Some villagefolk were even killing the natives of Iildun, and chaos spread like a wildfire.
The king and Gittaannit made it to the source of the smoke unscathed. It was as the Dah man said: a mountain of rock and fire was making its way out of the earth. The different tribes donned ceremonial vestments, with the chiefs all wearing cloaks made of precious stones and holding ancient bronze knives. The bodies of the villagefolk lay at their feet. Iikuiio thought the savages would kill him, but each chief welcomed him with a smile and a greeting. Gittaannit left the king's side to be with his family, and Iikuiio stood in the midst of all of the tribes.
They began to sing. Iikuiio could n't understand it, but it was very beautiful and contrasted with the dark smoke and ash harshly. By nightfall, under the light of the Band of Stars, the singing stopped, and the smoke of the mountain began to curl at the base. A strange symbol developed that the king had never seen before. The tribes began to chant, and tendrils of smoke solidified as they branched out. Soon, the smoke took the form of a common doloden tree; the natives bowed. The Dah cheif stood up and welcomed the tree of smoke, their god named Abbiddu, in both the savage tongue and Northern Script. The god replied in all tongues at once, saying the island was tainted by the hand of man and the faith of false gods. Abbiddu shot into the night sky, carrying with him a column of fire and molten rock. The savages began to chant. The island shook. Soon, the island began to move incredibly fast out of its place, the column of fire still as a solid stone. The speed of the island's movement was so fast it sent Iikuiio into a slumber, and he woke up on the shores of Iildun with no evidence across the sea of Kuaakssukt, the land of Abbiddu, the volcanic tree.
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[ WP ] In the far future , no one talks , eats , breathes , or even smiles due to the advance of technology , rendering the mouth useless . One day , someone , somewhere , begins to sing .
| The sky was gray as I shuffled to work. The clouds bunched together in angry little groups, and I thought I could hear a low rumble of oncoming thunder. I bowed my head flicking my hollofeed to the news to see if there was any weather update. The synthetic tuned voices of the news network headlines playing through my head. I did n't find any that interested me, so I flicked my eyes to switch over to my social media platform. I sat down on my tram. There was twenty minutes till my drop off, and this would give me something to do till then. My sister posted two puppy videos, my mom posted some inspirational quote, and my friends were going on about a party they went to last night. All this scrolled past my eyes in between ads for new nutritional injections and downloadable entertainment sims. The same ones I had seen yesterday. Everything was always the same.
I had n't realized I got off the tram till another person bumped into me. We glared at each other as he sent me an angry message before walking on. I was passing by the park when I felt the first raindrop. I stopped as another pelted the sidewalk in front of me. It was followed by one and then another until I was standing in a down pour. My eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was an odd habit I had since I was a kid. I pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders and was about to walk on when a peculiar sound hit my ears.
It started like the flutter of a birds wings as it launches into the air, and then it soared. It sounded like the voices on the news, but the tone was different. Like someone had filled the synthetic noises with water and life. It flowed through the air on the wind as it rose and dipped. I found myself turning towards it, and I walked into the park. I had to find the source. I was drawn to it. It was as if it had crawled into my body and warmed it with light, and I felt a pang of desire. It was in the middle of the park that I found a young girl. Her hair, now soaked, hung in sparkling red ringlets, and water droplets rolled down her face. Her eyes were shut, and her mouth was. Open. Open and close, changing the sounds by the shape. It was then that I realized I recognized it. It was an ancient hymn that had n't been performed in centuries. You could read the words of it on the internet, but no one knew what it sounded like anymore. We could only assume. Was this it? Was this what it sounded like? The words struck me as I stood watching this unusual display.
`` Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now I am found. Was blind, but now, I see.'' She drew the words out of the air like a painter drawing life out of color. As she finished the line, she closed her mouth and opened her eyes. The steel gray piercing through me as she looked around. I saw that several others like myself had come to find out what this was. Then she did something that is hard to describe. The corners of her lips tugged up, causing a beautiful curve to grace her lips. It filled me with joy, and I found myself trying to mimic the gesture. It hurt, and I could not keep the sides of my mouth up. I think my trying brought her some happiness, for her mouth parted to revel a row of straight teeth. She then opened her mouth, and began again. The words pouring from her mouth like water from her soul, and we, the thirsty roots, absorbed it into our being. I looked at those around me before turning off my automatic air filter, and for the first time since I was born, I drew my first breath. It stung as the air hit my lungs expanding them, making my chest puff, and I forced it back out. It felt, good. I tried again and again until a cough came from my throat. The red headed girl started her song again, encouraging me, and soon I found myself mimicking her voice with my own hum. To my surprise, others began to join. Some even opened their mouths to force out sharp notes similar to hers. Was this singing? How could I not know about this? How could we have forgotten something so beautiful? I met her gray eyes, as her voice rose to the sky, and the sun lit up the ground around us, and I knew that what ever would happen from this point forth. Life would n't ever be the same.
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[ WP ] You are abducted aboard an alien spaceship were the crew have all died , you stumble upon a room were there are 10 cloning chambers 9 of them containing yourself . You turn round to see a clone of yourself naked covered in blood ...
| *This had to be some sort of withdrawal*, Aaron thought. *This has to be. *
Aaron woke up half an hour ago on the floor. He figured at first that he'd had an accident on the way home, or had a heart attack or a seizure at some point. The problem with that though, was that there was no hospital on Earth where someone'd float in a cylinder filled some sort of sticky liquid with tubes stuck in his arms, chest and mouth. After pounding his way out of the cylinder, he took all the tubes out and put on what he assumed was some sort of hospital gown. He'd looked around the room for a while, finding scorch marks on the wall and pools of dark red blood, drawing across the floor out the door.
Still dripping with the sticky stuff and a couple of small cuts on his hands from breaking out, he made his way around the ship. He found what he assumed was an alien corpse at first, but it turned out it was human, dressed in some sort of elaborate organic contraption that give him two extra, tentacle-like limbs and covered his head and back in black gelatine. He was shot in the back of the head, burns marks around the skull made it look like a fire grenade of sorts exploded in his brains. Beneath the hybrid lay a tablet of sorts, similair to the tablet he had at home. It was covered with a mixture of black and red blood, and appeared to be damaged, as it would n't turn on or do anything no matter what button Aaron pressed.
*Someone did this. Someone shot this guy. Someone also brought me here. *
He knew he could n't simply sit around here. He might get shot. Probably will, as he has nothing to defend himself with and whoever did this was still walking around.
Aaron kept walking, adjusting his gown as he looked around. His surroundings were all dull dark steel, designed with functionality and efficiency. Images with arrows, numbers logically displayed next to their rooms, all aligned in orderly fashion. No personality, no curves, no life to it. German maybe?
More of the hybrids were strewn about. Some appeared to be civillians in casual clothing, others were armored with chitin plates, helmets and large cannons instead of front arms. Someone went berserk here. After walking around the blood filled halls, one door appeared to be open. Aaron peeked inside.
10 cylinders with naked people in them. On them were tubes connected to them. Devices had been inserted into their chests, limbs and temples. Machinery on the tubes displayed their health. 4 women, 5 men. 2 were in critical condition, 3 were dead and 4 appeared to be in good health. 1 one was empty and broken. 3 dead hybrids were in this room. A fight appeared to have broken out. The hybrids were stabbed with needles and scalpels. Some of their black blood had sprayed on the ceiling, dripping down the cylinders containing the people.
Then it struck him. They all looked like him. No, not simply looked like him. They *were* him. Every single one of them had a mole to the left below their bottom lip, and another more bulbous one in the middle of their bellies above their belly buttons, right where he had them. The dead ones had their eyes barely open, green irises poking through. Like Aaron's. Tall and skinny, pale with black hair. They were him. They were his clones.
`` Eh...''.
Aaron turned around. Another Aaron stood there, gawking at him. In the duplicates hands, a gun. He was slouched, covered in scorch marks, blood and smelled of death. His eyes were weary and tired, a hint of a thousand yard stare in them. Aaron had trouble looking at him. He was n't supposed to stare into his own eyes like this. It felt unnatural.
`` Hi''.
The other Aaron raised his gun.
*Okay Aaron, think. How could I make myself not do that... *.
`` Dude, do n't do that please''.
The other Aaron did n't drop the gun.
`` Look, we can figure all of this out as much as we can, but getting a gun into this equation is n't going to fix things. I'm not your enemy''.
*Equations. I like equations. Problems and solutions. 1's and 0's. Certainties. Given truths. I like those. They are constant and they never change. *
`` What do you know of this place? ``, the other Alex muttered with a whimper. Was he hurt? He did n't show it. Hard to see beneath all the blood.
`` You tell me. I woke up not long ago, in a room like this. But I was alone''.
`` I saw you. You were n't tampered with, unlike them'', other Aaron said as he nodded towards the clones.
`` Tempered?''.
`` Look at them. They've been tainted. They are experiments. Like the petridishes I used to cover with-''.
`` *E. coli* strains in junior year of college'', real Aaron interrupted.
*So they have my memories too*.
Other Aaron lowered his gun.
`` If I ca n't trust myself, I ca n't trust anyone. I trust myself''.
Real Aaron turned back towards the clones. Were they his children, or more like brothers and sisters?
`` Do you know a way back home? ``, real Aaron asked.
`` No''.
Aaron walked over to the closest living clone. She'd woken up, but had n't moved yet. Her eyes fixed on him, frozen with fear and confusion.
`` This ship is like a math problem, you know. All the pieces of the puzzel are here. The solution is here somewhere. We just have to figure out how to make sense of it''.
`` We?''.
Aaron pressed the big red button on the cylinder control panel. The machinery began beeping. The tubes retracted from the girl's body and the liquid leaked out from the top as the glass lowered.
`` Yes. We''.
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[ WP ] Your friend just saved the world , but all you see are their flaws .
| Its been three weeks since he `` Saved the world''. Hes been interviewed so much I'm surprised he has time to be my friend any more. Even when he gets the chance out of his busy schedule, everywhere we go hes showered with praise for his `` Heroism'', his `` Courage''. And he eats it up. They see him as a hero, a brave man who risked his life for the betterment of mankind. I know the truth, the stories of the men and women who truly risked their lives, their corpses now rotting, forgotten forever, their success and glory stolen by this coward.
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[ WP ] A man sues God because his insurance company wo n't pay for the damages done to his house in a storm . To his complete surprise and Horror , God actually shows up .
| `` Your honor, Heimy'Azrael' Goldberg, from the firm of Guildenstern & Rozencrantz, representing the Almighty. Your honor, we do *not* stipulate to complete diversity jurisdiction, though Mr. Johnson is clearly a resident of New York State, the amount in controversy is over $ 75,000, and the Almighty is currently a resident of 1 Green Pine Lane, Cherubim Circle, Heaven. Instead, we submit our 12 ( b ) 6 motion to dismiss on both substantive and procedural grounds. Substantively, Paragraph 6, Clause 2 of Mr. Johnson's Statewide Insurance Agreement, dated December 13, 2012, clearly states that quote'There shall be no coverage, of any type, *on behalf of any party* for the following non-exclusive list of cause of damages to the Residence: volcanoes, acts of war, insurrection or terrorism etc. etc. and on line 7 Acts of God, including but not limited to hurricanes, tornadoes, rain storms, floods and other inclement weather.' Combining this clause with the third party beneficiary clause in Paragraph 12, it is clear that the Almighty is a third party beneficiary of this Agreement, and is therefore released from liability. Further, procedurally, under the forum selection clause of section 13, requiring that this claim be heard in front of a JAMS arbitrator, whose decision will be binding, we request that this court dismiss this claim, with prejudice, and instruct the plaintiff to file in front of JAMS or simply drop his case. Oh, also, Mr. Johnson - I'm here to take you to hell. Say your words.''
Judge Marrero paused for a moment, his face illuminated by the blue-flamed three prong whip floating in Azrael's left hand, which was, inexplicably, writhing like a snake, and he caught his own reflection in the orange flamed, gilt sword dangling from his right. In his reflection he saw the spectres of cities razed by hellfire - he saw Soddom, Gomorrah, and Atlantis.
`` Marshall, how exactly did Mr. Goldberg get those weapons in here?''
`` Your honor, that's an *angel* - and I read my scripture, he is actually an *Archangel. * His duty is to bring souls into the next world. Do you think I would ask an *Archangel* for his sword? My momma is a Catholic and I was raised in the Church. Na uh, no way, no how. Mr. Azrael, it is a real pleasure to meet you. Uh... good job. Keep up the good work.''
Azrael's head dipped once, beatifically, as his flowing white robes were illuminated in other-worldly orange and blue.
The Judge folded his glasses and rubbed his temples, directing his attention to the plaintiff's bar:
`` Mr. Johnson, I think you have a lot more to worry about than my decision. May god have mercy on your soul. Case dismissed with prejudice.''
*Gavel. *
`` Well. Fuck.'' Turned out to be the plaintiffs last words.
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[ WP ] At age 18 each person meets their soul-mate . For centuries everyone has fallen in love with theirs . You 're the first person to not love yours .
| `` Lanie, I really am gay.''
She holds up her right arm and shows me the tattoo again. Its our crest, beautifully applied by the personal creative-citizen of the Governor himself.
`` 24 citizens we made together, Rafe. And we made them the good old-fashioned way. You are not gay and I will not listen to this stupid fucking bullshit again. You are scaring me and I swear to god if this some stupid fucking joke I am going to beat your face in.''
In our society, reproduction is left to a select few people. We are one of a thousand different `` partnerships'' that exist to populate the City-State.
One'family-citizen' is paired with another who is determined by the government to be their soul-mate. After the wedding day, the government sends the partners on their Honeymoon. The partners learn to love each other, because being surrounded by love is what makes children strong. It is a family-citizen's capacity for love that the government chooses them for in the first place.
`` We are the most productive family-citizens that Society has ever seen. We've been made first-class for Gods sakes, Rafi! Not only did we have the most babies, our babies went on to be doctor-citizens, science-citizens, even the Governors own creative-citizen is our goddamned doing!''
Mad as she is, I can still hear the pride in her voice. Our careers have been legendary amongst the family-citizen circles. Lanie has been pregnant eight times and eight times she supplied the government with triplets. No one has come close to matching our totals or our quality. In our retirement, we have found ourselves becoming quite famous as our children go on to do greater and greater things.
`` I'm not denying any of that, Lanie!''
`` Well you could have fucking fooled me! Who put this goddamned idea into your head! No one has been gay in 93 years, Rafe! It just does n't fucking happen anymore!''
Over the years, I've learned to love Lanie. She's always been bright, positive, and so great with the children. She is like the closest sister to me. But I've known since the earliest days who I was. It was just never safe to admit it before.
Gay people officially do n't exist in Society. The government no longer considers a gay child a possibility. This is due, in large part, to the'normalizing' success of the family-citizen program. A child with a perfect childhood would never turn out gay, they think. Every citizen alive in Society today was raised through the program and, as the government sees it, the problem has therefore been wiped out -- the gay problem along with delinquency, rebellion, and a host of other pre-Society plagues.
What does n't fit into their plan, what does n't mesh, is me. And, apparently, Sati the science-citizen who lived down the block. Sati, a woman, was caught by obedience-citizens possessing government-issued erotica intended for men in Society. Such materials are sent to every citizen on their 18th birthday. A woman possessing a mans copy was unprecedented and the Government was caught unawares. Sati, the family-citizens who raised her, and all the other children the family-citizens had were dragged to the Tribunal and executed. They were all'compromised.'
The government has kicked down almost every door in the city by now trying to find out who was missing their materials. Every third-class and second-class home has been searched. Not ours yet, though. Not we'favorites of the governor.' But it is coming. Their search was fruitless and they'll start with first class next.
`` Lanie, come with me. I need to show you something.''
She follows as I take her to my room. Its clean and orderly like it always is. A painting by one of our sons hangs over the bed and at the foot of the bed is my private locker. I bend down to open it.
`` What are you doing?'' Trepidation in her voice now.
I pull out pages and pages of male porn -- Sati's materials.
We had traded 6 months ago.
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[ WP ] You live in a world where sweets are illegal and different types of candy are treated like heavier drugs based on their popularity . You are the leader of the candy cartel .
| “ It was only M & Ms, boss, ” Jimmy said.
I stared down at him groveling at me on his knees.
“ I know Jimmy, I know, ” I said reassuringly. “ M & Ms are like pennies compared to some other ‘ sweet treats ’. ”
“ Thank God, you understand boss, ” Jimmy said with a big smile. “ I won ’ t mess up next time, I promise, and I ’ ll pay you back for all the lost product. ”
“ Damn straight, ” I said as he closed his eyes in relief. It took only seconds for me to reach in my pocket and pull out the candy necklace I had with me. Before Jimmy knew what was happening the candy necklace was around his neck, strangling him to death.
I ordered a few of my lackeys to take his body over to processing. You ’ d be surprised just how much of the human body could be used for making sweet things. The most lucrative of all sweets is ice cream, which of course requires a healthy dose of human hair. It ’ s a good way to get rid of the evidence.
After a hard day of working I sit down and drink my coca cola. Then I pop a few Tootsie Rolls in my mouth and watch as my wife walks up, adorned in all sorts of candy necklaces and bracelets. We share a kiss and I shake my empty can of soda. I slap her butt as she walks away to grab me another drink.
And then I heard it. The sound they said was the last one you would ever hear before you die.
“ You are the dancing queen, ” it played over all the speakers.
The Abba-Zaba gang was on their way. If they wanted war, I would be more than happy to oblige. I ordered all my men to grab their guns and charge.
A few hours later I was on my hands and knees at the mercy of their gang. My cartel was all but defeated.
“ I ’ ll give you all my M & Ms, ” I pleaded. “ Just leave my wife alone. ”
The blond man just looked at me.
“ It ’ s all mine now anyways, ” he said before taking a handful of M & Ms and eating them. He yelled to his comrades to do the same.
“ And now you di… di… die, ” he choked.
Within a matter of minutes I watched as the entire Abba-Zaba gang died right in front of my eyes. Jimmy had poisoned the M & Ms. That little rat. I guess his family would have to be dumped in some vats of taffy now. And his wife was so beautiful.
I laughed a bit as I ordered my cartel, Laughy-Taffy, to get back to work.
****
*A man, clearly not right in the head, sits in a room with four white walls, laughing all to himself. *
-300
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[ WP ] Scientists find a probe similar to Voyager ... After they decryptet the message from space they give a press conference . A sweaty , teary eyed man in a labcoat takes the stage ...
| `` This is a present from a small distant world, a token of our sounds, our science, our images, our music, our
thoughts and our feelings. We are attempting to survive our time so we may live into yours. We hope someday,
having solved the problems we face, to join a community of intergalactic civilizations. This record represents our
hope and our determination, and our good will in a vast and awesome universe.''
Randy took a deep breath, then looked up at the gigantic crowd in front of him.
`` This is how we ended our message'', he whispered, and his voice echoed all around the speakers.
`` This is what we sent out to the universe. A photograph. A representation. Who we are.
We are the small distant world. We are the pale, blue dot.
We made particle accelerators from stone tools. We made music from everyday sounds, and from that we made
dance, and art, and magic.
We found shelter in the darkness of caves. And when the caves could no longer hold us, we crafted cities as tall as
the skies, and we looked down at our planet and we said; I can provide for myself. I can live alone, now. I grew up.
We learned to fly.
We looked up into the sky and we wondered what the stars were made of. Then we looked down at the ground, and
inside ourselves, and wondered what nature itself was made of.
And, to all that, we found answers.
We conquered our moon.
We looked the universe in the eye and, unchallenged by its indifference, we scrutinized it. Like curious children, we
asked `` why'' to everything we saw, all around us.
And to that, too, we found answers.
We became aware of ourselves. Of our world, our people, and our lives. We stood tall in the face of meaninglessness. I ca n't think of a braver act than that.
We chose to stay. Despite the unknown, despite the fear and the uncertainty.
Despite the universe, and its incredible ability to ignore us.
We stayed. We fought. We thrived.
Because this is who we are. This is our land. This is our place. Our home.
Here, in our pale blue dot, we loved and laughed. We raised our children, and we counted shells by the shore.
We traveled and we cried. We talked and we grew old and we died, in our land.
We keep asking ourselves where is it. Where do we fit in. Where do we belong. What is our place in the universe?
But all the time, it was here. Right here. On Earth. Our Earth.
And if the day should come when we disappear, when our land gets taken from us... A day when we no longer exist, and all we built gets washed away, let every soul know that here lied humanity. Let the ruins of buildings and farms and factories and the remains of our bodies tell the universe:
There was once a species, here, and it was us. We were the humans. Here we lived, here we loved and here we died. And, though the universe may have been indifferent to us, we were not to it.
We mattered.''
`` Where is the scientist guy?'' A journalist asked, interrupting Randy. `` When are we going to find out what was in
the probe?''
Randy took a deep breath.
`` I will tell you.''
`` Where are the guys from NASA?'' Another one added, in a harsh tone.
`` Tell us what was in the probe, already'', a third one joined in.
Randy looked down at the document in front of him, then back to the crowd.
Suddenly, he was very aware that the whole world was watching him.
`` NASA sent me, but I do not work for them. I am a marine. And this is not a scientific statement.''
`` What is this, then?'' Another journalist screamed, impatient.
Randy looked up into the dark sky. The stars were out, shinning bright above him. It was a beautiful night.
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
`` A battle speech.''
______________________
*Thanks for reading! For more stories, check our /r/psycho_alpaca = ) *
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[ IP ] The life story of the man in this war poster from WWII
| GQ went off at 0300 this morning. Japanese cruiser spotted on radar, inbound.
The brass didn ’ t care that it was still 200 knots away. Just knowing those [ Japanese ] were out there made the General Quarters mandatory. Maybe someday they won ’ t ring the bell anytime the horizons yellow.
Life was simpler back at Small Town high. I was a star fullback, had the cheerleader gal. We heard stories about Hitler, the war, but it was just words on the radio.
Pa died after the Great War, mama was left with my two sisters and was carryin me. His pension held out awhile, but we were left busting rubber after the crash. Some who knew him said daddy did it to himself. Mama insisted he was sick for a long time after coming home. Maybe they were both right.
Mama always said if you ’ re gon na be dumb then you better be tough. I was tough for my sisters and my mama for sure. Got hired to shovel coal down at the factory at six, unloading freight with the big boys by 12.
Ma was really strong on us kids, made sure we had schoolin. Managed to get some high school in after Myrtle married that banker. Made my recruiter real happy.
Knowing readings good out here. Some of the southern boys wanted to tussel cose I ’ m a yank, but we all the same to the [ Japanese ]. Even the [ blacks ] were still American, and American is what mattered more than color.
I taught Big Mike to read after we scrapped on the fantail. He damn near had to blow us all to kingdom come before he ’ d accept the help though. “ Fragile and Flammable mean two different words ”, I told him. “ One means no fire, one means no dropping ”. He looked at the box he flopped to his feet with wide eyes for sure.
Now we unloading those same rounds. Mike is a Gunner, and a damn fine one. I ’ m keeping him fed.
Their cruiser wasn ’ t like ours. More guns, smaller caliber. We hit something and it went down, they could just hit you a dozen times faster. “ Death of a thousand cuts ” or some such, from their own words.
Would Sally still remember me when I got back?
Cal opened the hatch and I threw the next round in. Bart called the angle, Mike lined up the shot.
Could this be the one? One good hit, midships, below the waterline ( but not too low ) and we get to put up the guns and see what the damage is. Maybe only scratches, pockmarks, holes. Patches and paint, and we ’ d be right as rain.
Quartermaster ’ s having trouble keeping us straight though. Could be bad.
Cal locks the hatch and shouts. I don ’ t hear the words anymore. None of us do.
I feel the wave as the cannon flares.
I don ’ t turn to see if we struck. Ain ’ t no point. I pulled the next round.
We ’ d have to put 3 or 4 extra in before anyone would know we killed her anyways.
I wonder if those [ Japanese ] are doing the same to us.
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[ WP ] Your entire life , you always stopped the microwave timer at 00:01 , pretending it was a bomb . Today , you decide to let it go all the way , just once . As it hits 00:00 and beeps , you see a nuclear fireball erupt in the distance .
| As the microwave beeped, I heard a rumble, then felt it, like an earthquake. I quickly ran to the window and saw a mushroom cloud, a tiny pinprick of smoke in the south on what would otherwise be a clear day.
I turn back to my microwave in horror, revulsion, and just a little bit of curiosity. I open the door and, paying no mind to the already well-cooked noodles inside, I close it again and reset the timer.
**5, 4, 3, 2, 1... ** I resist the urge to open the door at 1 and as the microwave beeps, there's another rumble. Back to the window. Another mushroom cloud.
`` Well that's interesting...'' I think to myself. `` But a third time?''
I reset the timer again.
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[ WP ] Rewrite a tall tale , and disguise it . We will try to guess the original tale !
| It got pretty long but I liked the prompt a lot! Hopefully some more people will jump on the idea.
Jim glanced at his watch for the hundredth time, a string of curses running through his mind. He willed his legs to move a little faster. He could not afford to be late, not again. Why couldn ’ t a single thing work out in his favor? He tried to remember a time when life was simple and easy, but it seemed a distant dream, quickly fading into reality. He waved his security pass at the guard and nearly ran down the hall to his office.
“ Jimmy! Hey! ” Donald blocked the path to Jim ’ s office like a boulder, the man was as wide as he was tall. Jim got a little closer and Donald ’ s eyes widened a bit. “ Damn bud, you look like shit! Rough night, eh? ” Donald smiled, bringing attention to his tiny goatee, an absolutely horrible attempt at hiding his three chins. Jim wanted to slap it off his face.
“ You could say that, ” Jim tried squeezing past without touching the man. “ Excuse me Donald. ” Before he could get another word out Jim was halfway down the hall.
The office had no door, which was against policy, and it was about as dreary as could be; there was no window, barren walls, and the room was bathed in fluorescent light. Really, it was more of a glorified closet. Jim sat down roughly and buried his face in his hands, wishing he could be anywhere else.
“ Knock, knock. ” Jim peered through his fingers to spot Zack standing in his doorway. The man was tall, pretty good looking, had that kind of suave charm about him that women seemed to enjoy. “ Hell brother, you look like shit. ”
“ Martha left me last night. ” Wasn ’ t really how Jim had wanted to start the conversation, but of anyone in the office, Zack was the closest thing he had to a friend.
“ Oh, wow. Shit man, I am sorry. But… Not to be harsh or anything, wasn ’ t it a long time coming? ”
“ Ya, I suppose. Doesn ’ t make it any easier. ” Jim let his head slide down to the desk.
“ Hey don ’ t worry yourself too much, alright? We ’ ll go grab a beer and get laid this weekend, huh? That ’ ll cheer ya up. ” Zack glanced down the hall, “ Oh heads up buddy, Dick is incoming. We ’ ll talk later. ”
Jim took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. Richard Littleton, no one could be cursed with a worse kind of boss. Fruitlessly, Jim prayed he wasn ’ t coming to talk to him. The man ’ s head popped around the corner and he strode directly up to Jim ’ s desk.
“ James. ” No one called him James. No one but his father, and he hated his father. Of course he hated Richard too. “ You were late today. ” It wasn ’ t a question.
“ Well… ”
“ How many times is that now? By all rights I should fire you. “ He glared down at him as if Jim was dog shit he had scraped from his $ 300 shoes. The moment seemed to linger on for far too long and Jim sank as deep as he could into his chair. “ Regardless, it seems the big guy upstairs wants to talk to you. “
“ Wh-what? Why? ” A thousands reasons raced across his brain, were they going to fire him? Why go through the trouble of making him go upstairs?
“ He didn ’ t explain himself to me. Now get a move on. And clean yourself up, you look like shit. ” With that he was gone.
Jim rose from his desk like the walking dead and shuffled himself down the hall. Zack tossed him a concerned look from over his cubicle but Jim could only stare blankly. His thoughts churned and churned but he could not find any reason he would be going upstairs.
He reached the elevators and was shaken from his stupor. A man in an orange vest and yellow hat was taping off the entrance to the elevator door. The other was already marked off.
“ Excuse me, what ’ s all this? ” Jim could already sense what was coming.
“ Sorry man, these things have to be shut off for at least the next couple hours. ”
“ But, both of them? I need to get to the 32nd floor! ” The man simply shook his head and pointed to the stairs. Jim hung his head in defeat and trudged to the door. The stair well was drenched in flickering yellow light and the air was stale. Each time he took a step the sound seemed to echo up endlessly. Resolving himself he started his upward journey.
As he climbed he had a lot of time to ponder. Martha had left him just the night before, said she couldn ’ t be with someone so pathetic anymore. She needed someone strong, someone confident, and that was no longer him. It had all started when he sold the car without speaking with her. He had put the money towards his next big idea; it was going to be huge. It was a new way to make coffee, but it used the whole bean, not some instant packet or different chemical processes. He had thought it was a great idea. Even Martha thought it was clever. Unfortunately, no one else had, his own company blatantly ignored the idea and never even bothered with a rejection letter.
After what seemed like half the day, sweat running down the bridge of his nose, his legs like jello, and his breaths sharp and laborious, Jim finally reached the door with a 32 on it. He pushed his way through and made his way to the receptionist desk, noting to himself how much larger than his it was.
“ Hey there sir! How can I help you? ” She flipped her golden hair behind her in a practiced motion.
“ Yes, I was asked up here, I ’ m Jim Baker. ”
“ Oh of course Mr. Baker, Mr. Potter has been waiting for you. Let me just let him know you are here. ” She gave him a concerned look, “ Are you ok? You don ’ t look so well. ”
Jim forced a smile and simply nodded.
“ Oh ok, well you can head on in. ”
“ Thanks, ” Jim walked past and pushed open the large oak doors. Luckily he felt too tired from his climb to be nervous anymore. As he entered the office he was immediately entranced by the incredible view. The city lay before him, the beautiful sky and large fluffy clouds floated aimlessly amidst the blue.
“ Jim! ” The booming voice pulled Jim from his reverie and brought his focus on the tall man with a head full of grey hair and an impeccable suit. “ Jim my boy! I ’ ve been waiting! Please, sit, sit. ” The man waved towards a large leather chair. Jim sunk into it gratefully.
“ Now look I don ’ t want to waste your time, I ’ m sure you are wondering why I brought you all the way up here. ” Jim nodded dumbly. “ Well, you see young man, I have just gotten my hands on something very interesting. It seems to be an invention. A coffee maker made by you, and I must admit, I love it. ”
The look on Jim ’ s face must have been obvious because Mr. Potter let out a thunderous laugh. “ Oh yes, I know it has been a while but these things take time Jim. To put things simply we want to fund this invention and we want you to lead development. We will be increasing your pay by quite a bit and you will receive a percentage of all the sales. What do you say? ”
Jim ’ s mind was still trying to catch up to the situation and all he could manage was to nod. He found himself standing and Mr. Potter was directly in front of him shaking his hand.
“ Good! Now I know this is a lot to process so why don ’ t you head on home and let it all soak in. ” The giant man slapped him on the shoulders and led him from the room. Jim murmured thanks as he drifted out of the room and slowly floated down to reality. They liked his idea? They were going to develop it? He was going to be rich! His problems faded away like a bad memory. His life had just changed forever.
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[ WP ] A mourning parent returns to the grave of their child , only to find someone else there . What they say next ...
| I walked up silently to the graveyard. So slowly and hesitantly, in fact, that I could hear the snow crunching under my feet with every step. I really had nothing to offer, except my apologies and sorrows. That's really all I needed to offer, no gift would help my daughter now.
I went through the gate and down the rows of the dead. The wind nipped at me from all directions, constantly shifting and targeting my body. It felt like the elements were against me today, as most things were. It made me realize how alone I felt, how terribly my soul ached. Everyone blamed me, and I knew it, I would n't deny it. So, I carried that burden solemnly, even when I had to give my speech at her funeral. I did n't break down, I did n't say anyone else caused her death, I did n't blame God. I accepted that I killed her, through an accident, true, but still...
I found myself walking subconsciously, lost in my thoughts on how to pay tribute after a year had past. Nothing in my head sounded right. `` I miss you'';'' The world is lesser without you;''... I'm sorry...'' No, all of it sounded too cliche or did n't express how I felt. Maybe it would just all come out perfectly, I usually could make-up beautiful words right on the spot, why could n't I do it for Cadence?
I could finally see her grave, but as I approached it, I saw a young woman standing in front of the solemn monument. Stoic, calm, almost like she watched over the grave, protecting it. Thinking to myself that one of Cadence's friends came to pay tribute to her, I just made my way next to the lone woman.
We sat there staring at the grave for what felt like hours, but only a few minutes had past. We both were lost in our own thoughts, just thinking about the good times and the bad, remembering as she used to be. The woman broke the mutual silence first.
`` She was your daughter, correct?'' She spoke bluntly, just letting the words out casually.
I stared at her. Did I know this woman? She looked a little familiar, but I could n't put my finger on where I saw her. Eventually, I decided that she knew me when Cadence lived. `` Y-yes.'' I stuttered at first, but cleared my speech. `` She was... And I was her proud father...'' I almost felt like crying then, but all my tears had been used up long ago. Now, all that my body had to give were excuses and condolences that fell on the deaf ears of both the living and the dead.
The stranger next to me smiled. `` She loved you, you know. More than anything.''
`` I know...'' I let out.
`` She would n't want to see you like this,'' her smile disappeared. `` She would n't want you to blame yourself for her death. She knows you did all you could, but it was n't enough. She accepts that.''
I turned to look at her and saw she now stared right at me. Her eyes were blueish-gray, just like my daughter's. Her hair almost looked like my daughter's, too. Her face... And then it hit me. `` Cadence...?'' I said cautiously, staring at the startling resemblance.
Her smile came back. `` Yes, dad. It's me, it's your Cadence.''
I fell down to my knees and began to cry hysterically into my hands. I began to babble, trying to find my words. `` Cadence... Oh, I'm so sorry...! All of this... The crash, your death... It was my fault...! I'm so sorry!''
She knelt down to the ground in front of me and raised my head to look at her. `` Dad,'' she stared straight into my eyes. `` It's not your fault. Please, I do n't want to see you like this. Hurt, feeling like all of your family hates you, it's not right. Forgive yourself, just as I have. Promise me, you will...'' My head fell down, again.
After several racing thoughts in my head, I spoke. `` Okay, Cadence... I promise...'' I looked up again, but found no one there. She left. And for the first time in years, I smiled. Through the tears and the depression, I smiled. My conscience felt clean, and I knew my daughter rested easily with love and forgiveness in her soul.
It felt like a burden had been lifted off of my being. I still remember her, but as she had been. And every time I did bring her memory up, it was in good passing. I could feel again, forgive again, love again, I could do so many things, again. And I was happy.
I only visited the grave one last time. And, before I left the monument for good, I wrote a message meant only for my daughter to hear. The epitaph read:
`` I promise, Cadence, to forgive myself as you have forgiven me. Thank you, both for your forgiveness and the life you gave back to me.''
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[ WP ] It turns out every religion is real , if it is thought up and practiced , you will go to your religions afterlife . As a former con artist turned cult leader who died , you 're starting to regret your outlandish claims .
| `` O god no...'' I mumbled.
The fire whipped around my naked thighs as I stood atop a small mound. Dare I move? Would the fire consume me if I stepped from my perch? Suddenly I heard a crunch. Then a crack. I slid down the small mountain, grasping at anything, screaming as I tumbled and felt my skin scratch against a thousand rocks. I landed at the foot of the hill and realized that I was standing upon a mound of broken skulls rather than rocks and ruble.
The fire that encircled me was gone and I limped to my feet. I looked out around me and took a few steps, examining the ground with each step so that I might not repeat my last mistake.
`` Mother of God... is this... HELL?'' I screamed the last word and it echoed so loudly that I thought my ear drums would explode. I do n't know how it echoed - there were no walls for the sound to reverberate from, only open sky that rained fire and brimstone and a rolling plain that ran with lava rivers. Had it been anything but lava, it might have been beautiful
`` Damned right its Hell. and ya'd better get used to it fast pal, cuz its ya eternal home''. I spun around so quickly to see where the voice came from that I fell flat on my back. A tall man stood before me. He was n't red with horns or goat feet or a tail like we've all seen in the cartoons. He was beautiful and emitted a white light. Standing at least 6 feet tall, he resembled my father, much more that I was comfortable with to be honest. His thick blonde beard and thin hair matched his almost perfectly. He even had his eyes and anchor tattoo on his shoulder
``... Da..Dad?'' I muttered, fearing the worst. I had died young - a stupid accident took me away at 33, Dad was still alive and kicking when I faded away at the hospital! `` No stupid, its me, the Devil, Lucifer, Satan. Did n't ya religion teach ya that? I thought ya were hardcore about this shit...'' His voice was smooth though the way he talked so quickly and with such anger shook me to my core.
The ground I still layed on was cool but gritty and felt sharp. What is this?! `` That's needles. Dirty syringes to be precise.'' He read my mind! I screamed until my lungs burned: needles and shots were my biggest fear. I truly was in hell.
`` A course ya in hell! Look behind ya!'' He helped me to my feet and spun me around. What was once an empty waste land of nothing more than rivers of lava was now filled with the members of my congregation. Each was being tortured as they screamed and moaned in agony and called out to our god. None were spared, even the youngest, most innocent child and the sweetest elderly women faced a punishment that I, their leader could n't have predicted. Next to my feet was a sign post that read `` Golgatha'', and `` Christians This Way''
`` Do n't think ya gettin off easy cuz ya their leader!'' He stroked my hair, his hands were cool, before snatching a handful and cackling, yanking me down the path towards my sheep, nailed to crosses as they begged for forgiveness from a God that was n't real or did n't hear them. `` Come along Father!''
Edit: I'm kinda sad that this only got the standard 1 upvote: / o well lol
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[ WP ] You are a Dragon that just left your nest . What do you do ?
| My brothers and sisters found their lairs quickly, choosing caverns in the same mountain range in which we were born, but not I. Dragons are not an adventurous species: we are the subjects of adventures. To slay a dragon is to conquer nature's most powerful creation. We are sought after by glory-seeking humans if we make ourselves known, especially if we make the mistake of feeding on their livestock or picking a meager, pink, two-legged meal from off the ground and carrying it away. It's not worth it, for they are not the most appetizing quarry. Because of the danger out there, most dragons, at least those that live where I was born, do not go far from their roost, preferring to find a place to slumber and bring back their occasional prey when they grow hungry.
But most dragons are not like me.
I left the desolate mountain range of my birth a week ago, moving slowly, enjoying the wonders of this beautiful new world. My brethren moved faster, and I would catch up to them to find that they had found their homes. They would welcome me in for dinner; fat goats, succulent boar from the forest at the foot of the mountain. They welcomed me to stay for a time.
`` Youngest serpent of my brothers, why wo n't you stay a while? A dragon without a roost must grow so weary. You should stay with me, venturing half a day's flight in search of your own lair, and if you do not find one each day you may return here to stay the night in my spacious cavern,'' my brothers and sisters would say.
I thanked every one of them for their hospitality and graciously declined.
I have flown far since leaving my first home. I have not seen any of my brethren in a couple of days, and I am sure I have wandered farther than any of them. I have left the mountains, and now I fly over blighted lands of snow. I found a thick forest of tall, green pines, and I decided to stay the night wrapped around the top of one of the more sturdy trees.
I am a small dragon, only a week old. I could fly and breathe fire the moment I hatched from my egg, but I have not grown much in the seven days since. I am a seven-foot-long serpent, and since I fly more than I hunt I have grown rather skinny. But I am powerful. And on this night I am hungry.
I was ready to sleep a few hours before setting off again to the sky, but as I curled my lengthy body around a tree and prepared to slumber, I heard a far off sound of prey. *That sounds like a large animal, and a plentiful meal. Here, in this wasteland. I am a lucky dragon! *
The sound approached me, so I lay in silent waiting. I inched my way down the trunk of the tree, looking like a corkscrew descending with my mighty claws to pull me down and keep my dark, scaled body snug against the tree.
It did not take long before I saw fire in the direction of my approaching prey. *A human, * I thought to myself. *One will not be much of a meal, and several will put up a fight. *
I heard voices next. More than one human travelling together. *Damn. Well... I do enjoy a challenge. And on this night I am hungry. *
My prey came into view, about thirty feet below me. There were three humans, carrying torches. I prepared to pounce, but fire erupted around them, cooking them to a crisp immediately. A dragon, white as snow, almost impossible to see on the ground from its hiding place in a drift against the bottom of my tree, is suddenly visible against the green and brown ground around it. Its fire had melted the snow, leaving it visible.
It was not a small dragon.
I dropped to the ground, slowing my fall with my leathery wings. The white dragon watched me approach and I heard a grumbling noise coming from its throat like the purr of a behemoth cat.
`` You should have left the cooking to me,'' I said to it. `` I never overcook a meal.''
The white dragon laughed heartily. It sounded as if the Earth itself was shaking with mirth.
`` This was no meal,'' the white dragon replied. `` They were hunting me.''
`` That is a shame, because I was hunting them,'' I said.
`` Are you hungry, young one?'' The great beast inquired.
`` Yes,'' I replied simply, which spurred more Earth-shaking laughter from the white dragon.
`` Follow me,'' the white dragon told me, and he was suddenly racing through the sky and I struggled to keep up. He led me to a cave in the side of a small hill, his `` Dragon Hole,'' as he affectionately called it. He shared part of his latest quarry with me: he had recently stolen four goats from the very humans whom he had just burned to oblivion, carrying off all four in his massive talons at once.
`` So what brings you into my lands, young one?'' The white dragon asked. `` If you were older and more intimidating I may not have taken so kindly to your presence, but I am happy to treat you with hospitality.''
`` I am searching for a land to call my own, but really I think I just want to see the world,'' I answered.
The white dragon looked thoughtful for a moment.
`` I was very much like you in my younger years,'' he said.
`` And you eventually settled down here?''
`` Just recently. And only temporarily.''
`` So you have never found a home?''
It smiled a smile that would have made a human faint: its teeth were big as knives.
`` I am a dragon,'' the white monster mused. `` There is nothing greater in the whole world than a full-grown dragon, and so the world is my home!''
Since leaving my greatest teacher behind, I continue to wander, but now I am unafraid to stay in one place for a while. The world is out there, and it will wait a few more days for me to come meet it.
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[ WP ] They say `` you can never go home again . '' Now that I 'm older , I know just how true it is .
| Jeremy took a seat somewhere in the middle of the bus, sliding his pack under the brown leather seat. It was laden with books and loose papers stuffed into various folders. The chatter of children filled the air and Jeremy could feel the steady humm of the engine through the hard floor.
A girl with bright eyes and a soft gaze boarded the bus and made her way towards him. She smiled a familiar smile and greeted him. Jeremy was happy to make room for her and moved his things aside. They talked for awhile and discussed their plans for the school day. Jeremy was content here, he knew he had friends who were happy to see him and every day he strived to do a good job in school. There was a bright future for him painted in the image of the day; he was advancing towards his life goals as the bus advanced down the damp city streets. Gliding on endlessly rotating wheels, the bus made its way down the city block.
The skies were darkening and rain drops began to pelt the sides of the bus creating small trails of water down the inside of windows. The bus came to an unexpected stop with brakes briefly screeching before falling silent. The driver of the bus stood up and turned facing Jeremy. The joy he felt suddenly fled replaced with a growing sense of dread and anxiety. The face of the drier was hard and angled, with menacing eyes focused in Jeremy's direction. The other children and the girl sitting next to him were gone, leaving him alone.
`` Why are you here? You are not enrolled at this school, you have been absent from too many classes and have been expelled.'' The driver moved towards Jeremy grabbing his arm and the next thing he knew he was standing on the cold, damp sidewalk watching the bus roll away. Taking shelter in a nearby doorway down a local alley, he sat with his head in his hands.
'What now' Jeremy thought as depression and hopelessness began to manifest like cold fingers pulling on the strings of his heart. He remembered trying to stay in school while his life fell apart; his mother becoming ill and unable to work, him and his siblings going hungry for days trying to make the welfare last. He saw that he was a drain on an already unsustainable income. He felt like a black hole, hungrily devouring life and never able to give anything back. This was around the time he took to the steets, slipping candy bars into his sleeves as he walked through stores and filling water bottles in restrooms. He hated himself for his existence but hunger was stronger than hate and he learned to take what he needed wherever he could.
The sounds of scraping mortar and bricks reached Jeremy's ears and he looked to the entrance of the alley. Two men were working on a wall, one man would spread the mortar while the other slapped bricks into place. The wall completely blocked the alley from the main street and they worked at an alarming pace. Before Jeremy could stand the wall was half finished. He ran towards the wall but with every step another row was finished and by the time he reached the wall it was too tall to climb. Jeremy sighed and slumped against the newly constructed brick wall.
He didnt bother trying to escape, he knew he was dreaming and this feeling of defeat would resonate with him for the rest of the night if he couldnt relax and find some peace. He closed his eyes and tried to dissolve the scene around him, to forget his dreams and just sleep.
`` You ca n't sleep here, buddy.'' Jeremy opened his eyes to a bright light shining in his face. His back and shoulders were cramped from the narrow playground tube he had crawled into for the night. The tube and blanket provided enough insulation to keep the cold at bay and perhaps provide a good night sleep. Jeremy pulled himself out of the tube and to his feet, in front of him was a tall broad shouldered man in uniform blue. The officer peered at Jeremy for a moment before lowering his light revealing a soft expression on his face and a name tag displayed on his chest: Officer Martin O'Malley.
`` How long have you been out here, kid?'' O'Malley asked as he pondered the circumstances leading to Jeremy's homelessness.
`` I do n't know, a few weeks. Am I in trouble?'' Jeremy looked at the police car parked a a few short strides away. He wondered if he would be able to escape if he had to.
`` No you are n't in any trouble with me, but surely you agree that running away and sleeping on the streets is n't a solution. How old are you? You cant be older than thirteen years old.'' O'Malley's bright blue eyes studied young Jeremy's face. He had dark circles under his eyes and rounded cheekbones; there was smudgy imprint fading slowly from where he had rested his head for the night.
`` I'm fourteen.'' Jeremy said with a sense of pride that brought the hint of a smile to O'Malley's face.
`` Look I know things seem bleak right now, but there are options for you if you come with me to the station. You can sleep in the car while I finish my patrol for the day.'' The idea of a warm place to sleep was enticing and the friendly look on O'Malley's face convined him.
`` So what do yo say?'' O'Malley said extending a hand to Jeremy's shoulder. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from Jeremy's chest and tears welled in his eyes. He nodded and they walked together towards the police car.
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[ WP ] Any birthmark on your body is a result of you dying violently in a previous life . How did you die ?
| Zach shows off the horse on his arm. He says he got kicked in the head one night after he tried giving a stallion a kiss. On his left knee is a pair of fangs from a snake. I wonder if he'd tried to kiss that animal too.
It's too early in the relationship to start comparing marks but I do n't tell him that. We're at the restaurant he picked. Eating food he's chosen.
He wants to see my marks but I shy away. There are three hidden under my clothes. One bright and bold on my face. It's a small crescent moon from a former life when my husband hit me in the head with a wrench.
Over my heart is a small wound from a lover who stabbed me there last.
My back holds a round circle where a bullet entered and did not exit. Another husband.
On my belly is a red x where I was impaled with a piece of wood. My father that time.
My date smiles at me through a mouthful of spaghetti. I wonder why it looks so much like blood.
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[ IP ] The Deer
| A chill hangs in the air, its presence indicated the by trails of vapor left in my wake from a slow and steady breath. My worn boots bend and crunch the withering stalks of corn and golden grass tinted red by the Sanguine moon. It is an early October morning, a few hours before the sun will rear its head as I tread towards a stand of trees with a perch overlooking the clear cut plains. There is little stirring at this hour beyond the crickets and nocturnal birds, so I try to conceal my movements as best I can. A rifle on one shoulder and a warm thermos slung over the other, I've packed light for this trip. If anything, I've come to scout my potential prey, but I'm equally prepared for a better hand.
Following the clues I had left on my initial journey to my hideaway, I found the spot with minimal effort even in the dark. It was strange, it seemed as I thought on the matter, aside from the eery glow of the moon there was little more than a blackness. The trees were dark, the sky seemed nonexistent and the stars twinkled falteringly as though they too would soon cease to be. This profound darkness seemed to ebb but never wane, consuming more and more of the land. I watched with an equal measure of curiosity and apprehension as a childlike fear was rekindled deep within me. I was afraid of this darkness or rather what lie within it.
A sudden shifting reached my ears, as though something were trampling upon the deadened turf. I turned my head sharply towards the source of this noise, unable to make out a distinct figure in the distance. Reaching for my rifle, I steadied my hands and looked through the scope towards the sound. I could see what resembled a vague deer-like shape. Not uncommon for the area. My heart slowed back into its normal rhythm as I focused upon the typically timid creatures. There was no reason to fear this beast, I assured myself, though in this growing void it should be more frightful. Casually, it strolled into the middle of the field where the moon shone its brightest. Nibbling upon the once green earth, it rose back up and began to survey the landscape. It was searching for something.
Its thin rack full of sharp ends and twisting horns glistened with the bloody moon, an appearance that would have otherwise been upsetting were it not for its eyes. These bulbous orbs captured the very stars from the night sky, drawing them into its reflection only to snuff them out with a single blink of its eyes. Eyes that met my gaze from an unthinkable distance, a stare that froze my joints and stilled my heart. There was no emotion, no semblance of thought, or even a spark of life within that ghastly gaze. There was nothing. It seemed as though the void itself had manifested in its most innocent form. I wanted to run, to flee far from that place with no intention of returning, if it meant that I would leave whole. The best I could manage was a sharp shake, a shake that rattled my arms and made my fingers draw up. One finger that lay on the trigger. A shot rang out as the bullet pierced the foul creature and it began to walk towards me with its lazy gait.
I shot again and again, only halting it for a few precious seconds, seconds that allowed me to regain some control over my movements. With little time to spare, I leaped from the tree leaving the gun behind as I ran towards town. I knew the area well enough to find my way back to the truck, an ugly sight, but one that I had never been so delighted to see. With a twist of my wrist and a slight pull, I peeled away from the countryside and sped towards town. I wanted to warn someone, anyone, everyone of this anomaly, but I knew that my words would be better left for the birds. I never saw the specter again, though I still tremble at the sound of crunching autumn greens.
-236
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[ WP ] After rewatching a viral video of a celebrity , you realize the video has changed ; they even winked at you through the screen . Weeks later it happens again in a different video , before you start to realize ... The first time you saw the videos , the celebrity was n't dead yet ...
| `` Hey sugar,'' she said as she came through the door.
`` You know there's a lot more going on than most people think there is.'' she winked at the man at the kitchen table.
I squinted harder. This was the third time that it looked like she had changed the direction she was staring at. I'd tried to rewind but it did n't work. I closed the player looked it up on Youtube.
She walked in the room. `` Hey, Sugar. You know, there is a lot more going on than most people think there is.'' I paused just as she winked at me. Something had changed again. I was certain it was n't the same thing I had watched a few minutes ago.
I took it back to the start. Got it just as she was walking in. `` Hey......'' there was a long pause she smiled, `` Sugar....you know, there's a lot more going on than most people think there is.'' She winked.
The man at the table was uninterested, she walked to the counter where the rube goldberg machine was. `` I could show you if you want?'' He never replied and she would light the match that burnt the string holding a bowling ball that balanced a kettle it would end with the man getting shot. The video was so graphic people wondered if it was real. His face was never shown and some even called for a body hunt to be started.
I looked her up. Ada Nathi had died two weeks ago from a suicide. Many people claimed it was due to her long time drug habit. As I watched the video for the twentieth time I finally realized that her gaze would shift from the man to the camera when she asked the question,'I could show you if you want.' She never stared at him no matter the take. Always at the camera. Was she asking the man or me?
I played it back once more. She came in, gave the salutations, and headed to the counter. I got to the point She said the words,'' I could show you if you want.'' I replied not believing what I was doing, `` Yes, show me.''
She smiled once more, and veered off her script,'' You sure sugar, it's not for the faint-hearted?''
I considered the implications, what could really go wrong? then I added.
`` I'm sure, show me darling.''
She giggled. `` You have to be a real believer for this to work.''
`` I believe I'm talking to the video of a dead singer, how much more belief can you get?''
`` Very well hold on. I will come to you later.'' The screen then went to other video suggestions. I called Athan asked him to watch the video. After thirty minutes he texted back saying that he saw nothing strange.''
Not sure if I was just tired I decided to retire to my bed. As I went to sleep, she came to me. I saw her sitting on a bronze throne. She got off and walked to me. She held my face in her hands and said, `` Worship me sugar, and I will give you your heart's desire.''
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Whenever someone lies to you it starts to rain ... [ WP ]
| It was a sunny day when they buried her. A clear, beautiful sky was what hung the backdrop of her grave. The pain had seared my tears. It had taken my rage and replaced it with an abyss. That six feet might as well have been bottomless, just like my heart.
I knew life could never be the same. The sun was n't shining as brightly as before, and the colors were n't as deep as they used to be. Everything was fading into a monotone existence.
Part of me tried to cling to my friend's support. Tried to believe it would somehow be survivable. But that all changed when my best friend hugged me.
He said it would be alright.
That's when I felt the first raindrop.
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[ WP ] After realizing you are in a work of fiction , you immediately rush to the person you think is the protagonist in an attempt to get plot armor as their best friend . But when the `` protagonist '' dies , you realize you may not have thought this completely through .
| Okay, so maybe I hung with the wrong dude. How did my best friend just get fucking merked by some loser who literally thought he was some chosen samurai-demigod?
Ok so get this. I roll into class ( med-school at STANFORD, okay? Get at me ) and this dude invites me to sit with him and some of his friends. They're all attractive human beings, and the major cluster of people in the room. Clearly they're the popular people. Dude introduces himself as Gialon Atherton, and his friend next to him blurts out that Gialon is supposedly THE dude. He's gon na be the one that does the thing or some shit like that. I was n't paying much attention because Gialon was talking over him to me. Seems like a cool guy, and if I become friends with a group like this, I firmly believe my time in college would be incredible.
So we all hang out a bunch, and sometimes just Gialon and I will go do something like just hang at the CVS in the Village shopping center just outside the entrance on, like, the opposite end of campus at 3am. It's surprisingly fun. The Author has blessed me with classes in the afternoon only, which is AWESOME.
Time passes, graduation happens, and he, I, and all his friends decide to start a company to just research cures for diseases and shit. Goes well, we decide to start focusing on doing cool shit with genetics. We try and figure out how to put really cool features onto different animals, like a deer with a chameleon's camouflage, or a lion with a rhino's horn. Stuff like that.
Then the media starts screwing us. Saying we're immoral. So we try to advance evolution in humans to make humans more resistant to things like ultra-violet light damage in an effort to curve skin cancer rates. Then this random dude just rolls into our office acting like some dude from the dark ages and fucking challenges Gialon to a fight by, get this, saying something like `` YOUR TIME OF PLAYING GOD IS NOW OVER. YOU MUST STOP THIS OPERATION IMMEDIATELY. IF YOU DO NOT, I AM FORCED TO CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL.'' A duel? Who the fuck calls it a duel anymore? Whatever. Dude looks like a bum who's been sitting on the side of the road the past month, and Gialon lifts every day. We tell him to fuck off, but the next day we get a report that some of the guards in the west wing are n't reporting.
I decide to go over and check, and when I get there, the guards are knocked out on the floor. Oh, did I not mention our facility turned into something like the Pym ( I do n't really follow nerd movies ) facility from Ant-Man? Anyway, I do n't find the guy. Must be crawling through the vents or some shit.
I go back to the main researching area, only to find the glass doors locked, and the dude is there facing Gialon. Dude says his name is David, and he's here to topple Gialon, who he believes is a disgrace any God, whether they exist or not, and that he's here to `` topple the giant''. What a self-righteous nerd. Then he pulls out a fucking katana and swings it around trying to be all cool like the `` wan na see my moves?'' guy on the Internet from like, the early 2000 or some shit. Then Gialon does the weirdest shit. He extends his arms like wolverine, and out come fucking claws. What the fuck, Gialon? No protagonist does that shit to himself.
So they end up fighting, and I'm sure Gialon can kill the loser-neckbeard, all while trying to open the door and pondering the situation at hand. Then I figure it out and lose all hope. Move some letters around with Gialon Atherton and you get Goliath with a leftover n a e r t o n. I do n't really care what those can spell out, but if I remember correctly from my parents, David kills the giant Goliath. FUCK.
Looks like I'm the bad guy's sidekick. At least I have at least tree-fiddy million dollars in my bank account. I'll just leave like Starscream in one of the Transformers movies.
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EDIT: Trying out writing, so apologies if it's not that good. I've pulled a B+/B- average in English throughout my school years so far. Hope you enjoyed, though I'd be surprised if you did! Let me know if you would like to see more or less of me in this subreddit!
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[ WP ] Write a new response to the first prompt you ever replied to .
| Original Prompt [ [ IP ] `` and if you ever feel scared... You know how to call me. `` ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3iu0ee/ip_and_if_you_ever_feel_scared_you_know_how_to/ )
It was dark.
She could hear the rats moving around her feet, nibbling it. She kicked her foot, and when she feel their fur rub against her skin she knew she kicked them away. She tries to fix her position, but the handcuff on her right arm is restraining her. So she grabbed the chain and pulled her body up, squatting before slowly sat down on the cold floor. She could hear the monsters upstairs. Loud footsteps, sounds of laughing and sounds coming from the TV. They were having fun, like always.
It still dark.
Seems like the monsters forgot about her. She is cold and hungry and thirsty. The rats are coming back, more than before. She kicked them away again, and they disappeared. Probably back into their nest inside the wall. She took a deep sigh, trying to be brave and strong like heroes in fairy tales but she ca n't.
It's too dark.
And a voice echoed inside her head.
*I am here*, it says. She recognized the voice, it's always here with her. Accompanying her, making her feel safe and secure. *Poor girl. Do you have enough? *
`` Yes.'' She answered. `` The monsters are evil. *
*So i'm evil? *
`` No, you're not. You are nice.'' The girl shook her head. `` You are my friend.''
*Then call me. * The voice are getting louder. *Let me help you.''
`` But you will hurt them.''
*They hurt you, why ca n't i hurt them?''
`` Because that's evil.''
*But i'm not evil. You said it yourself.''
She sensed someone inside the dark basement with her, staring at her from the dark corner of the room, waiting for her answer.
*Come on, girl. You do n't need them, you have me already.''
She bit her lips, then placed her left index finger on her mouth and bit it until it bled.
*Good! * The presence is getting stronger, getting closer. The girl placed her finger on the floor, and it started moving on it's own as if she already know what to do. A circle, a crude drawing of a star, few symbols she did not know. Then she could feel a warm gust of winds, followed by her handcuff suddenly snapping and releasing her.
She could her voices from upstairs. Screaming and growling. They do n't have dogs, so what could it be?
Curious, the girl navigates herself through the darkness. She slowly and carefully climbed the stairs, and then pushes open the door. Greeting her, a pale white haired man with eyes darker than the basement behind her.
`` Nice to finally meeting you.'' The man greeted, as he took her hand and pulled her closer. `` Thank you for calling me.''
`` Who are you?'' She asked.
`` Your friend.'' He smiled, caressing her cheek with hands that are red and sticky. `` Do n't worry, the monsters are all dead.''
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[ IP ] The Last Human
| When they built the machines, humans took every measure to ensure they would never turn against them. But humans still fought with other humans. The robot armies they created to destroy each other were better than they had ever hoped they would be.
As the human population dwindled, two scientists tried to humanize the machines in an attempt to save the remains of humanity. The robot offspring of these scientists actually cared for humans, all of them, without exception. They were designed to care for the weakest and youngest among them.
The favorite robot of James and Lily was, hands down, Lucky. The robot cared for human beings in a way different than ever before. The scientists hoped Lucky would help them to raise their baby, and, if the trend continued, to care for their little one if they were to perish. When baby Jenny was born, Lucky helped take care of her a few hours a day. James and Lily watched as Jenny played with the robot they referred to as her big sister.
James continued to study her emotional intelligence, but Lily was more focused on the outside world. The last two compounds controlled by humanity fell before Jenny was four months old. The robots soon turned on their little research facility. Lily often cried while James stared out the window, waiting for the inevitable. They knew the score. Likely, they were the last humans on Earth.
As the robot armies battled outside, Lily had a talk with Lucky about Jenny. If the compound was to fall, Lucky was to take the child and raise her. James knew the odds and made a few adjustments to Lucky in their last few days. Both of them supplied her with recordings for their baby girl. Lucky spent more and more time with the child, singing her lullabies, and playing with her.
When the day comes, Lucky watches as the opposing robot army breaks into the compound. She wraps the baby in swaddling blankets and waits with Lily and James. Lily kisses her baby girl before loading a backpack full of formula. James kisses his baby girl goodbye. Both of them also embrace Lucky. Neither can contain their tears. Lucky hugs both of them before running away.
Lucky is miles away before she looks back and sees the compound burning. Lucky stops running and feeds the baby. As Jenny feeds, Lucky sings a lullaby and says things recorded by Jenny's parents. Lucky also watches as the enemy robots move toward her. While she was made in the image of her creators, her followers are ugly monstrosities that she can never outrun. But, she was never meant to.
[ Part 2 ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/nickkuvaas/comments/4cuwiw/the_last_human_pt_ii/ )
Sorry about the delay, I fell asleep before I could finish it, and I had a hard time ending it.
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[ WP ] Write a college essay that starts with , `` Sometimes , I wish I could just go onto a roof with a sniper rifle ... ''
| Sometimes I wish I could just go on the roof with a sniper rifle toting crazy person and talk them down. I want to be a hero, and I have always felt that desire to be heroic. I've always looked out for the little guy and fought for what I believed in. Whats stopping me? Probably my fear of heights. I'm a short man living a short life and I do n't feel like tempting fate by wandering ever closer to the sky and making it that much more likely that I die from a fall from great heights. I do n't want to be forced out of existence early by any means really, but something about being up there and putting my ass where god might just be tempted to give it a good smack makes me irrationally nervous. You do n't recover from a love tap by'Him', because'He' does n't know his own strength. My friend Edgar was the kind of guy who liked to push the envelope and cheat death, and I told him cheaters never win, but he felt sure about his chances. 23 years is not enough time for me, man. I need more than that. He might have gotten everything done that he wanted to, but I intend to do more. I intend to go up onto a rooftop with a sniper rifle toting crazy person and talk them down. Whats stopping me?
Probably my gun phobia. I'm just frightened of them, man. I do n't want to be around a firearm, not even a BB gun. What if someone shoots someone else? What if they shoot themselves? What a mess. So many accidents happen and I do n't feel like tempting fate by fumbling around with the trigger of some unwieldy death machine. Sure I might just shoot a bottle off a wood post, but I also might shoot the head off my dog. I might shoot my own damn head off. So much can go wrong in such a short time with guns. Instantaneous catastrophic failure is not arousing to me in the slightest. I've always been against guns, but my friend Rob loved em. I made him watch A Christmas Story over and over but I guess my hints were n't strong enough. Maybe all he needed was 31 years on this earth to do his greatest deed, but I need more time. I intend to do more with my time. I intend to go on the rooftop with a sniper rifle toting crazy person and talk them down. What stopping me?
Perhaps its my fear of the paperwork. I hate writing too much, I have terrible carpal tunnel from using the computer all day and I do n't want to exacerbate that by trying to grip a pen and write for long periods. God, there must be piles of it when you save a mans life. Statements for this, statements for that. And what if he sues? Can he sue? I ca n't have that happening, I do n't have the energy or patience for it. Plus I do n't like talking to the cops. They make me nervous. What if I did something wrong that I'm not aware of? I might be guilty and not even know it, but they know. They know the laws. Maybe I'd be violating some amendment by intervening in a potential mass murder plot. And the news crews would be all over the story, people would want interviews. I do n't want my face all over the news, goodness. My buddy Max was all into getting famous, he would do anything. He moved to Hollywood and they chewed him up and spit him out. He was never the same after that, with all the pills and booze. Maybe 46 years is enough time for him, maybe he did all he wanted in that period of time, but the pressure got to him. I intend to do more with my time. I intend go up on the roof with a sniper rifle toting crazy person and talk them down, but I just ca n't right now. I could think of a million reasons.
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[ WP ] She fell in love with a lovely little thing last night .
| It's been a rough few years.
When she first went to school, I wondered about other boys there. Call me territorial but I did n't want any other man in her life. It's been four years, since.
Our routine was easy, I wake up use the toilet, and brush my teeth. She would show up while I was in the shower, I could hear her pee, and as she would leave she would say, `` I love you.'' Sometimes, I'd have to remind her to flush. After I'd finished, she would take hers. Hearing her sing was the best way to start no matter what had or was going to happen.
I'd get breakfast ready and she'd greet me with a kiss on my head. I've never been good at fixing hair, so she stopped asking me. I bought her a GPS signal she could use just in case for school, so I'd see her off, start my emails and calls, and then head to the office. When I get back, she would have nuked some food, heated something in the oven, or ordered out. I'd left a card in the take out menu folder to use, just for that. We would sometimes have a gaming night, boards and consoles, or a show night, movies and TV. Most nights we would be doing our home work. Our lives were not very spontaneous.
Until one of the days we had off together aligned, I took her to the mall and we were browsing for a card for her grandfather's birthday. She found this one prerecorded and directed to a little girl, when it opened it said, `` Hello, Darling. I love you.'' She was adamant about buying it.
My daughter lost her mother years ago to a mugging, so it's just been us, she's 9. Her Granddad helped her when needed, but I think it was just to give me some time to come to my responsibility. She's been my world, and I did n't mind it. It's just the lonely nights, when I want a companion or know she's going to grow up that scare me.
When I tucked her in, she held that card and put her mom's picture in it. Her voice did n't sound like that, but I did n't have the heart to tell her. She fell in love with a lovely little thing last night, and I fell in love with her almost ten years ago. All I ever want is to see her happy, and anyone who knows what love is, would understand.
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[ WP ] In a clearing deep in the forest , where it seems no one would go , a small teashop has just opened up .
| With the weather worsening, rain dripping through the holes in the canopy, she sought shelter. No great oaks grew from what she could see, only trees like birch that could barely keep a mouse dry. So further she went, careful not to trip on roots and branches and vines, shoes squelching as the mud emerged. A blessing for her, no wind snatched the warmth from her damp clothes, though she hoped the dress itself would n't end up ruined.
When her determination petered out, there being little difference between herself and a drowned rat, she rested against a trunk. Folding her hem beneath as she sat, for what good that might do, a long sigh slipped through her lips.
Barely a sound but the drip dropping reached her ears. Yet, stilling her breath and straining to hear, a bizarre noise she could n't place did occupy the place between the watery tattoo.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she spared a moment to wring out what she could before investigating. A whisper led her to and fro amongst the forest, along no trail nor stream, in some unfamiliar direction. Even as a child with her brothers had she not ventured to this part.
Brambles pricked at her legs that she had bared to save the delicate fabric, and yet soon she feared no height would be high enough to escape their thorns. What she had thought to be a nearby quiet began to reveal itself as a distant raucous. The wild undergrowth, though to call it such when it came up to her waist seemed daft, crescendoed to the height of her father.
Stuck by that, she paused to ponder, stepping back and forth to find a way beyond the wall of briar. At first it looked to be a lost cause, depressing from how close to her goal she seemed. However, when she checked her ankles for cuts, she noticed what she had dismissed so easily before.
While hard ground had been common along the paths, far away from them she had not seen such. Yet here there clearly was. As though, for some reason, many feet traipsed through this spot and no others nearby.
Nothing from where she stood revealing the mystery, she knelt down to see if that would help. Still no particular thing jumped out at her, and she nearly committed it as a quirk of nature. Perhaps a spot that animals felt an affinity towards. Then, she peered at her obstruction. While slow to sink in, she noticed that the branches looked thinner, and some scrapes here and there made it appear that someone – or something – had cut off the thorns there.
But, it looked far to small for a human to crawl through. Even a child would have struggled to squeeze by. And that only served to intrigue her further. She tested the opening, pushing and learning that there was a lot of give. Just enough to let her through, if she took care.
The cool earth sent a shiver down her spine as her stomach and chest pressed against it, and she dared not think of the mud that would be left on her when she stood up. Crawling forwards, she kept her head down to try and keep her hair from snagging. Fortunately, the smoothed branches merely caressed her on her way through.
When the pressure against her gave, she finally looked up, and blinked more than a few times. A stray, “ Oh, ” sat on her lips, keeping her mouth ajar. What lay before her, she could not have expected even after a night of dreaming.
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[ WP ] The Civilian Emergency Services ( Police , EMS , and Firefighters ) have utilized teleportation . Give the introductory lecture/training .
| `` Welcome to teleportation 101 please take your seats. ``, it was the first day for most of them and unlike most classes it was one where most people were excited for.
`` As you may know teleportation was invented a mere three years ago, but the costs and risks associated with them have kept them out of the hands of normal citizens''
`` However you are to become some of the proud few who will use this technology on a daily basis.''
`` I will now explain how this course is going to work, the first week we will learn safety and warning signs, and see how one can teleport inanimate matter. ``
`` Week two will be theoretical understanding and teleportation of non human life, and in week three we will go over the specific settings one can utilize and we will prepare for our first teleporter jump.''
`` In our final week we will have a final test and your first jump''
`` Now before we begin i have three rules.''
`` First rule: Do n't use the teleporter without permission, do so and you will be immediately expelled and face severe criminal charges.''
`` Rule two: No cloning, while it is correct that one could replicate with a teleporter, both the cloning of animate and inanimate matter is a crime.''
`` Rule three: Before graduating you are not allowed to teleport other humans, **no exceptions**''
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[ WP ] You are the son of Lucifer , and much to his annoyance , you seem to have inherited his rebellious nature . Naturally , being a teen , it 's even worse than he could have planned for .
| Gabriel closed one eye as he looked carefully at his work through the frame of his fingers. The brick wall behind 7/11 had made a fitting canvas for his latest piece. Packing the clinking aerosol spray paint cans back into his rucksack, he looks back once more at his masterpiece before throwing it over his shoulder.
What's stares back at him is the image of Christ, arms outstretched and hands put in a devil's horns position, grinding his great wooden cross on a half pipe.
Breaking into a jog, Gabriel snickers to himself. The planning of this had taken weeks of sketching and measuring between sessions of figure drawing and perspective study. Art was a true passion for Gabriel, and something about street art ignited the demonic fire that burned in him.
As he passed under the streetlights entering his high class neighborhood, the thought of his past endeavors flooded in. The image of Christ handing Saint Peter a blunt flashed in his mind and it took much of his will power to not howl with laughter in the quiet suburban streets.
His digital watch flashed 4:00 A.M. and he suddenly realized just how long that piece had taken him. Panic set in as his face contorted and he ran faster down the dead streets. Taking a turn through a neighbors yard, he jumps onto a wooden fence. It makes a slight creak and groan under his weight as he climbs onto the sharp posts onto the roof of his home.
Sliding into his open window, a sigh of relief and exertion rushes out of his lungs. Gripping the window, with sweat running down his forehead, he slowly slides it closed. It squeaks and jerks usually, but tonight it slid with almost magical grace and fluidity. Setting the lock, Gabriel looks up, points at the ceiling and thanks God for the save.
Laying his backpack down on the floor next to his desk with an audible _clank_, Gabriel suddenly feels a presence in his dungeon like room. He looks to the darkest corners of his room, expecting his father to walk out of the darkness. `` _Always one for the dramatics_.'' He thought with forced indifference. Standing with a straight back he willed his legs to move towards the darkness. If he was to be caught he'd be caught without a look of abject terror on his face. But as he closed in on the blackness of the room it began to creep away from him, replaced by an orange glow, which in turn was replaced by the blinding light of hellfire. Gabriel's eyes burned as he turned to face the King of Babylon, Satan, or as he liked to call him, Dad.
He was in his _I'm so pissed I could send you to your mother's_ mode. His horns burned with the rest of him and sent whisks of smoke up to stain the ceiling black. His eyes raged a fiery red at his son. Red skin, sharp claws, goat legs, the whole nine yards. Gabriel shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at the smoldering carpet.
The fire burned long and hot, but Lucifer only stayed in this form long enough to make his point. When the flames died down he began to stomp to the light switch. As he did his legs cracked back into a more human position. His horns receded, bringing the fire with them, and his bright red skin came to a deep olive, then to a fair caucasian. Deep black hair grew into the perfect undercut, styled and combed with a flowing grace. A fitted jet black four piece suit materialized with a billowing of smoke around the Devil.
Reaching the light, Gabriel's father clicked the switch, but after the light show, it only dully shocked the boy's eyes. Without moving his body, the suddenly human figure only turned his head to look at his son, saying in a gruff yet dignified tone, `` Do you have any idea what time it is?''
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[ WP ] It is revelation . Satan and the armies of hell attack , only to discover that our technological advancement has allowed us to put up a decent fight .
| `` It's quiet...'' spoke Havoc, breaking the silence. ``... Seems odd.'' He glanced over at his comrade, Jester, but could only make out the contours of his face in the darkness. Jester was scratching at something with his knife. Finally, he looked up at Havoc.
`` Things do seem to have cooled off lately... Probably because HQ do n't want to make another move until they make contact with Jesus' forces.'' Jester could n't help but chuckle at that sentence. He had seen some crazy things, been in some strange situations but never had he even dreamt he'd be fighting a war against Hell itself. He continued scraping away with his knife.
`` I wonder what he's like...'' Havoc turned his gaze back to the empty fields below their cliff-top outpost. The moon was full, but it's glow was a deep red and occasionally a low rumble would roll over from some distant battle. Jester seemed to ignore Havoc. Since the Rapture began Havoc had become almost unbearable with his `` repent for your sins'' and `` I told you so's''. When it became clear to Havoc that he was n't going to get much conversation out of Jester he let out a sigh. Somewhere in the world Jesus was taking the fight to the Devil himself, yet here Havoc was... Keeping the hell-spawn from invading a paddok.
He scanned the horizon and caught a glimpse of a giant flying Harpy, but before he could call it in it was promptly gunned down by an airforce F/A-18 on it's way to a more lively scene. When the sound finally reached them it was enough to rouse Jester's attention. He raised his rifle and peered through the thermal sight.
`` Contact'' he finally muttered... `` One thousand meters''. Havoc stared in the direction Jester was aiming and after some straining finally detected some movement. He peered through his binoculars.
`` I count.... Four................ Five targets... Nine hundred and fifty meters... No lead... No wind... ``
Jester took a deep breath, then fired. The shot echoed through the night sending the birds that had settled in the trees screeching skyward. `` Four to go'' he joked as he pulled the bolt on the rifle. A chorus of wails erupted in the distance.
``... the fuck is that?'' Asked Havoc as he scanned the horizon again with his binoculars.
``... Shit...'' Jester said, raising his head away from the scope of his rifle. He turned to Havoc. `` Hey, you're like... Hardcore Catholic right?'' Havoc stared at Jester before offering a single nod. Jester reached down and passed Havoc a handful of bullets. `` Bless these, will you?''.
Havoc took one of the bullets and raised it into blood red light of the moon.
`` You know...'' He smiled, ``... I ca n't really bless these... And carving crucifixes into the leads wont help your aim...''
|
[ WP ] Your permanent record from elementary school is actually permanent and has just been brought up in your dream jobs interview .
| `` I have not been through half if my life or more without having learnt better than this, sir.'' I said, shifting uncomfortably in my chair, even though it was not the hard wooden seat of the principal's office. Sweat began to build upon my forehead, and I swiped at it with the back of my hand. Watching him read through an old report from school.
I was then asked, `` did you set any fires when you were seven?''
Seven. My foot jumped at the thought, and I could feel a sudden spark on the ball of my foot. Just as if I were there again..
`` No, I never did anything such as light fires, except for the time when I made the bonfire one year. It was a little out of control, but nothing that I could n't ask mum about later when I came to. I set fire to my foot by accident, as I thought that I was wearing my woolen socks, and I thought that they would n't catch fire. But..''
He stopped me there, and rubbed his eyes. Look, look at his eyes. No do n't, look at his desk. His desk with a photograph of an ugly woman smiling. Ooh yuck! She had such bad teeth, looked like she had chronically vomited everyday since she was 12, her head appeared sunken in, the eye sockets dwelling places for misery. Why did I look at people's photographs on their desks?
What did he say?
`` I am sure that the fire accident, as you tried to put it was merely due to a lack of attention span. Obviously nothing to do with you as an adult, I can see that you have a keen interest in your surroundings now. Maybe a little less rabbit food in your diet would help you to relax, son. Try eating better food. It seems you were brought up a vegetarian. That is obviously why you lacked the effiency and alertness required in this role as a security guard. But only as a child, of course, I can see you have well developed muscular structure and fitness. How long have you been eating meat for now, son?''
Oh no. Not that lie of my parents that made it easier at school to get healthier food again! It's all coming back to me now. I was a vegetarian at school, and once I got home I would lay into sausage sandwiches, beef pies, whatever I could eat with a bit of gristle and substance!
`` Urm, I did eat meat a bit more when I was at high school, because I became too weedy, sir.'' I was the biggest guy at school. You should have seen me back then, I tell my girlfriend. You would swoon over my hard and full six pack, my robust young body. My arms...
`` Right. Well I can see for myself that you have n't really caused too much trouble otherwise at school, it is very important of course, to look at the whole persons life, to see where their faults are, their weaknesses. You do n't look too weak for a vegetarian child...''
Aw, will he stop going on about it! I'm 32 years old now! Not 17, or even 14, or 10..
`` I was also a champion wrestler at high school, if you can see that record there, sir?''
`` Put a bit of muscle on then? Hmm..yep I can see that. But because of that fire incident, I doubt your capability in an emergency situation. Maybe you should try for a different type of job.''
`` But I'm a good fighter sir! I can fight well, ca n't you see all my other records? I did n't only do wrestling, but also boxing, and karate. I'm a black belt now. Times have changed since I was a kid. I've ch...''
But he cut me off. Said to close the door after I left. And to watch the fireplace on my way out!
|
[ WP ] When you were four , you made a childish wish upon a star . Twenty five years later - without warning - the star finally gets around to granting your request .
| My phone rang. It was my mom. `` Sweetie, can you come down here right now? There's been an emergency and we might need a place to stay.''
An hour later I turned into the street I grew up in. A handful of cops were gathered around the ruin of my parents' house which was crushed by a dump truck, a 1980s model with a red cab and yellow body, like the toy I had when I was a kid... that my mom still had. In the attic.
Somewhere in the depths of my mind came back the memory of wishing, not just pretending but *wishing*, my toy dump truck was real.
|
[ WP ] You die and go to Hell . However you soon figure it 's not as bad as it was made out to be .
| `` Thomas, you have to stop coming back'' said the Devil. `` I have a list, you need to get off of it. You need to stop wasting space in Hell.'' Thomas Aquinas stared at the Devil. `` Thomas, you're a catholic priest for God's sake. I ca n't have you in Hell. You disrupt the mojo. You're cramping my style'' Thomas thought that if anything, it was the Devil that was cramping his style. After his death, he had been sent to purgatory for a few weeks to atone for his sins. Well, this had rather upset him and so he levelled the demons of purgatory with holy fire, and that had earned him a trip to Hell. And let's face it, he liked Hell, a lot. `` How many times is this Thomas. I bring you back to life, you kill yourself. You come back here. Suicide is a sin Thomas. It gets you into Hell. Why not try Heaven out.'' Thomas had admittedly considered this. In fact, before his death he had been a strong proponent of going to Heaven. He had come to doubt though, that Heaven offered the kind of distractions that could last him an eternity. `` Ok Thomas. I'm sending you back. You know what, as a sloth. How long will it take you to kill yourself then huh? Maybe you'll have a change of heart? Hey Tommy? I can put in a word with the man upstairs for you.'' Thomas politely declined. `` Any last words before you ressurect Thomas?'' Thomas thought long and hard. There was an appropriate quote from a film that he had recently had the pleasure of seeing in the underworld.
`` I'll be back'' he said, laying on a thick accent that had developed in Europe after his time. The Devil groaned and caught his head in his hands.
*********************************************************************************************************************
Sloth moved one slow, methodical arm. Grip, pull. Grip, pull. Sloth was following instinct. Climb the vine. Climb up. Up. Why, who knows, instinct. Sloth felt the breeze of the height. Yes, very high. If a naturalist, or heaven forbid a sloth expert, had seen what was to follow they would question not only their teachings but their sanity. Sloth let go with one hand, then the other. Now Sloth held on with only feet. Why did Sloth do this, instinct said survive, live. In Sloth there was a part that said die, die, die. Sloth liked that part. It made him feel warm. It was a good part, Sloth knew. Sloth fell, from height. In its final moments, the animal was able to approximate a sound that sounded quite certainly like a small child going `` Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee'' as it fell to its demise.
*********************************************************************************************************************
`` Honey, I'm home!'' Thomas screamed at the top of his lungs. Beside him the Devil sprang into appearance.
`` Thomas if you were n't dead I'd kill you myself. Do you know what kind of position you're putting me in. A man that wields the fire of God walking amongst demons, rubbing shoulders with the unclean and the wretched. It does n't look good, for either of us.'' Thomas thought on this for a while. It was true that he was somewhat out of place. Did he care? Simply, No. Hell was a melting pot of cultures, arts and people. Everything was designed to incite one or more of the seven deadly sins. It was a paradise. A work of art for the sinners of the world to live in. Anyone who thought Hell was a lake of fire and eternal sadness had never considered the viewpoint of the Devil. He has to live here too, you know.
`` Well they're my shoulders and I'll rub them where I like thank you very much. And where I want to rub them is here.'' The Devil opened his mouth to retort, but young Aquinas had already galloped off after a bevy of whores that had sprinted past him. The Devil pulled a notepad from his tailored suit, Hugo Boss of course. Two more, only two more ressurections and then Thomas had to stay, forever. Hand met forehead violently, and the Devil retreated to other tasks for a while.
*********************************************************************************************************************
Whale ate fish. Fish were tasty. Fish were good. Whale swam with other whales. Company was good. Whale found land. Land was bad. Land could kill whale. How could land kill whale? Whale set his brain to the task. Water good. Land bad. Ahh. Investigate Land. Danger. Whale swam to the shore, slowly encroahcing on Land, careful not to get too close. Suddenly, deep within the heart and mind of Whale came the call. Die, die, die. Whale knew that it was right. Whale swam, fast, fast as the waves. Beach the Whale. Whale pushed so far that even Whale's tail was left dry on the sand. Other Whales sad, they cry. Whale happy, Whale laugh. Whale laugh for hours until Whale is dry.
*********************************************************************************************************************
`` I have seen a lot in my day Aquinas but you are the single most suicidal creature that the Lord has ever had the displeasure of breathing life into. You've managed to kill yourself in impossible ways. As a Cockroach, one of the hardiest species of the planet! What do you do? Find the nearest woodchipper and climb in? Can animals even do that? You wretched human being. This is it, the final straw. You win. You know what? One life, that's all you have before eternal damnation. Guess what happens next?'' The Devil raised his eyebrows in expectation.
`` What?'' said Thomas, knowing that it would grate the Devil. He was right.
`` I quit, thats what. I take your life, I go on vacation. You rule Hell. Congratulations, you are now the Devil Thomas Aquinas. I'm out.'' In a majestic puff of lavender scented smoke the Devil vanished. While reincarnation was a rather uncertain business, Thomas sincerely hoped that the Devil would have a good time, or at least make the best of it.
Edit: Grammer. All constructive criticism appreciated.
|
[ WP ] You are the most ignored person in the world .
| By nature I am not an interesting fellow, though I attempt to be a courteous one.
Others have a tendency to overlook my small acts of kindness, for they are only small acts and perhaps deserve no attention.
I wait patiently propping up an open door as a woman on her phone rushes by.
I pick up the coins from the floor so the elderly gentleman need not bend down.
If I am lucky I may get a nod of appreciation.
Generally I do not.
People do n't thank strangers. People do n't thank me.
And so when I proof read an email for a colleague, and corrected both grammatical and factual mistakes, I did n't mind the following promotion.
Promotions are n't for me.
When I tried to smile at the girl in her pale blue dress and she smiled back I did n't mind that she was given the phone number of the man next to me.
Relationships are not for me.
And when I tried to ask for help from family or from friends, I did n't mind that no one helped me.
Help is not for me.
I am so alone.
I live for other people.
|
[ WP ] A burglar enters a home by forcing the window open . Upon stepping through the window frame , heavy steel curtains cover all windows and doors leading to the outside , lights turn on , and the words `` Player 2 has entered the game '' echo around the house .
| `` Not again'' he sighs to himself. Checking his phone to see if there is reception he gets a message.
Sam- welcome to my house.
-fuck you Sam.
Sam- just stay in the darkness... use the NVG that is by the wall there
-... 🖕🏿
As he walked through the hallway he did n't see any light switches. Odd enough he thought then noticed something out of the darkness. Three little dots in a triangle shape.
Blinked green twice and then darkness.
He shuffled to his bag frantically for the goggles trying to keep his breath as he held it in. Shaking and panting he looked towards the shape but to no avail. That's when he reached for his robbery defense taser hoping he would have some chance of intimidation.
He heard creaks and winds during the windy fall night not sure what he is hearing. Is there a gadget somewhere turning on and off? The sound of his own vision goggles turning off and on but it was n't as he checked his own goggles.
The feeling of dread suddenly came over through his head. Frantically breathing he's heard breathing above him but too scared to look up. The moment he does he heard a drop behind his head with a quickness and a strong grasp towards his neck and head.
Sam- hey there bud.
-Sam?!
Sam- call me Mr. Fisher.
: snaps neck:
Sam fisher gets lonely nowadays sitting around not having any new releases lately in a new console.
Cmon Ubisoft. Player one needs to step up.
|
[ WP ] : a lonely man fakes his death just to see who 'd come to his funeral . It turns out some of his long-dead friends have done the same .
| An urn on a table, and next to it his picture. The picture was twenty years old, probably the last good one they could find. There was still hair on his head and some life left in his face. Next to the picture some words that remembered James Dorn. Three rows of empty folding chairs mourned his passing. He stood in the back, away from the lights, in a long coat and with a bowed head.
There was an hour left in the service. One to four on a Tuesday in the lobby of the Church of the Saints.
A man came in through the wide doors. He was tall, old, casually dressed. Without looking around he walked straight up to the urn and the picture and began reading the laminated sheet of remembrance. He was the third to arrive, and while James had no trouble recognizing the others this man was mysterious to him. His rapid and precise movements, his frame and gait - they were familiar yet forgotten.
`` Did you know him?''
James started. He had n't seen this other enter the room. A man about his own size, he wore a tailored navy suit and had a shiny bald head.
`` I knew him.''
`` What was he like - towards the end?''
`` He never said much. It always seemed to me that he lost something and he was just waiting to get it over with.''
`` Did he still carry around that tin of chew? He always had it right here - `` patting his left thigh - `` in his left pocket.''
`` What was your name?''
`` Had a thing for redheads too. Married two of them. I told him. I told him - women burn hot enough without having their heads on fire.''
Only one man had ever said that to him. James looked hard into this man's eyes.
`` You look different.''
`` You look like shit.''
`` Conner Fitz.''
`` It's still just Fitz.''
`` I went to your funeral.''
`` And now we have been to yours.'' The tall man with the familiar gait approached and put out his hand.
`` And Jacob Theisen.'' James shook the hand. `` If I was n't dead myself I would n't believe it.''
`` Dying does funny things.'' Jacob looked at him meaningfully. `` Has anyone given you some final words? A eulogy?''
`` Well, I did. I sent it to the Herald, they printed it.''
`` That wo n't do at all.''
Jacob became somber, clasped his hands and faced the urn and the photograph. James and Fitz followed his lead and the three dead men gave their respect to the empty room.
`` James Dorn is dead.'' James chuckled and Fitz nudged him with his elbow. He cleared his throat and checked himself. Jacob continued. `` We burned his body to make sure he stays that way, and his urn sits here before us as a transient reminder that we are all completely, irrevocably, and inexplicably fucked. Amen.''
`` Amen!'' James laughed fully now. He had n't laughed like this in two decades.
`` Anyone want Chinese? I skipped lunch to put this damn suit on.'' Fitz flopped his tie around.
`` James?'' Dead or alive, Jacob threw an enormous shadow. James nodded in it.
`` Yeah, Chinese.''
`` Good. There's catching up to do, and things to discuss.''
As they left the church lobby, James took a moment to look back. The urn on the table and the old picture next it and the empty chairs in the dull light. He took a round tin out of his pocket, threw it in a waste bin, and walked out.
***
|
[ WP ] Batman Becomes Evil
| Part 1
Batman: I am done with Gotham. The filth and scum come out and feast on the desiccated corpse of a once great city. The good are too few to matter and the evil sit on their thrones decimating the weak. I ca n't be everywhere at once... for every drug deal I stop and kidnapping I prevent, there is always someone being murdered or a weapons trade going on. I will never be enough because those I put away will always come back. The evil will jerk the strings of their puppet judges and jurors and the next day, those men I strive to put beyond bars will be free of Blackgate or sent to Arkham till their inevitable escape. I make no difference. I have no illusions now. I've been a child playing a game, following rules that no else seems to care about. WELL NO MORE!!!!!! The feast of the evil is at an end. Tonight they will all fall....
Vicki Vale: This is Vicki Vale of WGCK, reporting live from Gotham General where the Joker has just taken ten children, from the Thomas Wayne cancer ward, hostage. It appears he's strapped bombs to each of the children's chests and the timers are counting down from an hour. Oh, look!!! The Batman has just shown himself on the rooftop! Hopefully he can stop this madman's horrible machinations.
Joker: You know what I love about you Batsy?!! I looooove how predictable you are. I hold a group of innocent angel-faced brats hostage and here you come to stop my nefarious plans with your Fists of Justice. Hey Bats, wan na hear a joke?? How many cancer patients does it take to change a lightbulb?.... What no guesses?? Come on Bats, it's not as fun if you do n't guess. Well alright! It's none! They're all to weak to climb the ladder. HA HA HA HA HA HA. Oh come on! Surely that was worth a chuckle at least!!
Batman: ENOUGH JOKER!!
Joker: Oh, Batsy!!! Why so tense? You're so dark and grim and brooding all the time! Are you constipated? You should eat more fiber, it's really good to have some roughage in your stool!
Batman: Joker, detach the bombs from the children. NOW!!!
Joker: Oh Bats, you know that ’ s not how this works. First, we have some verbal jousting.Well, I have some verbal jousting and you continue to do that silent-brooding grimace of yours. Then we have fisticuffs, you invariably win and somehow deactivate most of the bombs. But not quite all, as I had a seperate trigger for one and these delightful rugrats all get gassed. Then they all go out with a smile on their faces!!! Which as you know is probably better than it was going to be. Sorry to spoil the surprise kids, but your deaths were all going to be painful anyway!
Batman: Not this time Joker. This time it ends.
Joker: Oh please Bats! We both know I ’ ll be out of Arkham in no time. Back on the streets bringing smiles and laughs to parent and child alike!
Batman: No Joker, not anymore...
Joker: Bats you might want to remove your hands from my neck, I mean the cameras might think you mean to strangle me!! And they ’ re not even getting my good side. He he ha ho.
Batman: No Joker, not strangle.
Joker: Ah! So is it finally over Batsy!? Is this the final act!? I go out not with a bang, but with a snap! Well jokes on you Batbrain because I ’ ll have the last laugh!! HA HA HA HA
HA HA......................................
Vicki Vale: Oh my God he snapped his neck! What ’ s going on? One of the bombs has gone off!! There appears to be some blinking device on the Joker ’ s chest! A heart monitor?
A Week later
Vicki Vale: This is Vicki Vale reporting from Arkham Asylum, where another madman ’ s corpse has shown up. It appears to be Dr. Crane known by the alias Scarecrow, he ’ s been hung from a lamppost outside the gates. Hung by his own noose. A signature piece of the villain ’ s costumes used to dispose of him. This seems to be the new M.O. of the Batman. Ever since he murdered the Joker on Gotham General ’ s rooftop, villains have been winding up dead all over the city. Mr. Cobblepot, a suspected weapons dealer and former villain of the Batman, was found dead, the day after the Joker ’ s death, in his Iceberg lounge impaled on what appeared to be a sword umbrella. Edward Nigma aka the Riddler was found a few day later strapped to some sort of electric-chair contraption with a note saying “ Riddle finally solved. ” While just last night the villain known as Mister Freeze was found broiled alive in a sauna, his trademark suit nowhere to be found. While many who lived in fear of these villains are applauding the Batman ’ s new tactics, Police Commissioner Gordon had this to say at a press conference yesterday.
Commissioner Gordon: I don ’ t know what has happened to the Batman over this past week, but I do know one thing. These acts aren ’ t righteous justice. These are acts of malicious vengeance! And Gotham will not stand for these acts while I am Commissioner. That is why I am putting out an arrest warrant for the capture of the serial killer known as the Batman. I will not be taking any questions at this time.
To be Continued... If people want it to be.....
|
[ WP ] New technology allows for deeper mining . Miners hit something . They find out Earth is not a planet , it 's a machine coated with dirt and water from asteroids - and it 's just been activated .
| The 2040's, a great decade for science and those involved in research. They can control magnetic fields now allowing for plasma drills but I would n't know too much about that. All I knew is that I had a job and those were hard to come by so I was not about to quit any time soon.
The Kola Superdeep Borehole, an antiquated feat displaying humanities quest to explore regardless of the consequences and some jackass wanted to resume the long abandoned mission which put me and 149 other saps down there in a steel tube. Our mission was clear, go down. ten thousand feet, twenty, thirty, fourty, we had just surpassed the previous effort but something was not quite right. The borehole continued further down and it was filled but not with rock. The tunnel walls were a lot more stable than the previous reports had mentioned, a smart man would have turned back here but we were not smart men. One million feet.
Past the concrete sludge the plasma drill slowed down, sparks flew and we were ordered to continue forward. To this day I swear those bastards knew what they were doing. As you probably learned in school, the earth's core is made of iron, but not in the same way as you would expect, it was awake, it was hollow, and there was something inside but I could n't see it. Words can not explain the scale of this machine, and it was so quiet you could hear your own footsteps from a country over. This was not natural, someone or something built this. We reported back but we were expendable so our next job was to explore. Inside there was a mass expanse of corridors and cells but no organic matter. Cold steel walls encapsulated us with only one direction to travel.
Further in, the grumbling started, it fully awoke and blue lights clicked on but the cold, quiet corridors remained empty and dead. A moving cart brought 5 of us to the heart of the beast and inside, over the bridge and in the middle of an empty dome was a pale green capsule. There was something inside, something moving.
As we approached it, smoke emerged from the sides of the glass case but I still could n't see it when the capsule suddenly burst open and from it's icy cocoon emerged John Cena who proceeded to pick our asses up and lay us down for the three second tap.
To this day I regret entering that steel labyrinth, some things should be left buried. While none of us were killed, we had discovered something that should have been left forgotten. The earth is alive, a cold dead machine masking a colder heart. We immediately ran and the hole was covered up. We never told anyone what happened, as far as the public know, the rock filled the hole in again, and before I die I want to tell you this, if only for myself.
There are more things in this world than humans ought to know.
|
[ WP ] When you were a child , someone called you and said `` 7 '' . You thought nothing of it until today , when you got a caller who said `` 6 '' .
| `` Six.''
`` Who is this?'' I said, but the call had ended.
I looked in my call history, but the call ID was blocked.
The voice haunted me. It was otherworldly; majestic and authoritive. Genderless, but almost motherly. I wanted to believe that the call meant nothing, but something deep within me, something primal, knew that the voice and the message meant everything. It was a countdown to doom. For me or for all, I could not be sure.
The call dominated my thoughts for weeks afterwards. I lost weight and had trouble sleeping. My boss called me in for a talk about my performance. My girlfriend asked probing questions and my parents accused me of drug addiction.
They say time heals all and for me it was true. A few months later the shakeup caused by the call was fading due to the distractions of everyday life. A few months more and it rarely even crossed my mind. Part of me began to doubt that it had even happened. Maybe it was just a nightmare.
Then on Christmas Eve, as I was trying to pay for some last minute presents I felt my phone vibrate. I was irratated, why do people always call when your hands are full? I hit the answer button and saw the text on the screen as I did.
No Caller ID
But the wheels were already in motion. Muscle memory. I lifted the phone to my ear and habitually said, `` Hello.'' Even before she spoke I was filled with dread.
`` Five.''
I dropped my wallet. I dropped the bags. I began to shake.
`` Who is this?'' But the call had ended.
I frantically searched for the number, but it was pointless. The mysterious caller had struck again. A drive-by destruction of my life.
I knew I could n't let this continue without trying to break the cycle. The fate of the planet may rest on me. The idea struck me that I should destroy my phone. I explained my reasoning to everyone in my life. My friends laughed at me and shook their heads. My girlfriend got angry, then cried and when she could see I would n't back down she left. My boss saw the logistical problems created by an employee that had no phone and could be losing his mind. So with no job and no girlfriend I moved back home with my parents, who were now positively convinced that I was on `` the dope.''
Over the next few weeks I isolated myself. I rarely saw anyone other than my parents. A few times my friends came to rouse me, but when they saw the way I looked suspiciously at their phones they lost interest in my company. But I was doing it for their safety, so what if they were unappreciative.
Valentines Day came and went. I stayed home. Nor did I party at the Irish pub on St. Patrick's day. That voice in my head began to speak up again. It told me that I ca n't go on like this. If the world is going to end I should get out there and live, it said. As time passed the voice got louder and I started to listen.
Then one day I got out of the shower. There was a sticky note written by my mother stuck to the door of my room.
`` A girl called for you. I asked for her number and she just said 4. Sorry. Love ya!''
I ran upstairs to question my mother. What did the caller sound like? Do you think she sounded'Earthly'? Do you believe me now? A dozen other questions raced through my mind, but my mother was gone to work for the day.
I read the message again. I realized that this call had come only a few months since the last. The timeline was speeding up. What did it mean? I paced around the kitchen. Then my parent's phone began to ring. I ran to my room and shut the door and ducked into the closet, my heart racing.
In the darkness of my closet a resolve grew within me. I had to be strong and stand up to this mysterious force. I packed up my clothes and my father's hunting gear and headed for the mountains. Apparently these beings like to communicate through the telephone, therefore it was time for me to go off the grid.
I had gone hunting with my father many times as a child. I had also been an Eagle Scout. I knew a thing or two about surviving in the wilderness, but this was still far from easy. You can build a fire and wear warm clothes, but the nights still get icy cold. A hunting rifle and a skinning knife are great for putting meat over the fire, but there are hungry days when there are no animals in sight. And damn if I did n't miss some good old fashioned human interaction.
That last issue is probably the reason why I did n't fully hide from the game warden when he came up the trail to my camp.
`` Heard reports of someone living up here. Looks like you're just camping though,'' he said. `` Are you just camping?''
`` That's right, sir. Just camping,'' I said.
`` Good to hear. Keep your campfire inside a pit. We do n't need any more forest fires.''
`` Yes, sir.''
He pulled up his radio and pushed the button and said, `` Simmons to base.''
A female voice shrouded in static said, `` Go ahead.''
`` Got an all clear up here. Just a camper. I'm heading back now,'' the ranger said
The radio crackled and shrieked and a feeling of anxiety swept over me. The ranger looked at his radio with disgust. He pushed the button and said, `` Uh, that last did n't come through.''
The radio rumbled with static then suddenly that old voice came through in perfect clarity and said, `` Three.''
I screamed in terror. The ranger gave me an annoyed look. `` Keep quiet,'' he said to me. And then into his radio he said, `` Say again. Three what?''
More static and popping then the voice said, `` Two.''
I sprung into action and leapt for the radio. The ranger saw me coming and spun away. `` Stay back,'' he shouted and drew his pistol.
`` Mister, you got ta give me that radio. Or least let me get away from it. That voice is n't who you think it is!''
`` You're not going anywhere. I'm placing you under arrest,'' the ranger said.
No sooner did he finish speaking when the radio crackled to life again. I could n't stand there and listen to it's message. I turned and ran.
`` One,'' the voice said from the radio. Impossibly loud and far too clear for a two-way radio. I willed my legs to move faster.
`` Stop or I'll shoot,'' I heard shouted from behind me. It was the last thing I heard.
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[ WP ] At a regular high school , every student coincidentally happens to be a superhero . Thus far , every student has managed to keep their secret identity a secret . When a supervillain attacks the school , each student believes he/she is the target and tries to maintain his/her secret identity .
| Things at this high school have n't been what you would call... normal. Within the last few weeks we have had 3 earthquakes and a bomb go off in front of the building. Needless to say after that accident we did n't have school for a week, some FBI vehicles were there the entire time the school was closed and they did n't let anyone near a 2 mile radius of the place. I wonder how they let the people who live close to the school in and out... Well enough of that, not really much to think about on my way back to school, I really wish this bus ride was longer.
This day was going along just like every day in this penitentiary my classmates all wearing the same clothes and my friends all hanging out in the library playing chess. Tom, Patrick and Jacob, we were n't the smartest kids in the school but we were subjugated to be the “ nerds ”. Anyhow the day, as I said, went on quite normally the girl I had a crush on in 1st period talked the entire hour and 30 min, to be honest I did n't even know I had that much to talk about. Ms. Yunger had a little end of the semester project to be working but well.. I had already finished. She Let me talk to Jackie the entire time, we got along well, both me the teacher and Jackie. 2nd period was like first except i got a little nap in, and a stern talking to from Mr. Kip Never really liked him anyway, even though I was passing his class with flying colors... I do n't think he liked me either. Nothing seemed to be going estranged.. That is until after 2nd period, Lunchtime.
While me Jacob and Patrick sat talking about the latest news and homework in proceeding classes we heard a big BANG from the front of the school. Then the entire place began to shake, before my very eyes I see everyone running for their lives. Fear in all their faces, I'm sure my face was equally shaped to the actions around me. As I turn around I see half the cafeteria is gone many of the students who were eating there were crushed by the caved in ceiling. That's when I began to run. Just as I turn the corner I catch a glimpse of a classmate standing out the the rubble that used to be 10 feet above us, at this moment I do n't know why I chose to run to this person, I knew I could get away but it seemed they might have a bit of trouble with that, so why not?
I run up to them skipping over the rocks and wires being sure to not get my jeans caught in any stray bars poking out of the rubble. As I approach the person standing I realise it's a male and they seem unscathed by the cave-in even though their clothes are ripped to shreds.
“ Hey man... you alright!? We got ta get out of here quickly, I do n't know what's happened but it does n't seem this is the safest place to be. ” I shout, out of breath and pulling on his arm, I recognize him as a jock who I have gym with, I do n't even know his name but I must say out of everyone i expected to make it out of this kind of a mess, I definitely would have bet on this guy.
“ Where are we going?! ” He yells, a bit of anger in his voice. “ I ai n't going out back with you Harly ” Harly is my last name, not sure how he knew but i shake that thought out of my head quickly, as I dodge a spring loaded rock flying out of the ground 10 feet away from me nearly missing my head. “ That explosion, It came from over there, ” he points “ I ’ m going that way! ” He says as he begins walking towards the sounds of chaos. I do n't bother to say another word as I run the opposite way. He must be fucking crazy, he just survived this and now he wants more... Jocks man I ’ ll tell ya.
I finally make it out to the back of the school where I surprisingly find only a total of 5 students, many I assume had run to the nearest neighborhood to ask for help. The five here stood as if they were n't afraid of anything, they did n't even question me when I came out looking like I had gotten run over by a fireworks truck packing lit colorful smoke bombs. They just stood there looking towards the sky, one has his phone out while the others stood watching the flames over the school. AJ the boy who had the phone, I recognized him and through a coughing voice I managed to get out a few words
“ Where is everyone? ”
“ I have no idea man, but this is n't quite the best situation to be in at the moment! ” He says with a laugh and a smirk as his finger pointed upward towards a large beast looking monster.
At the sight of that thing I ran, ran as fast as I could away from this thing. May have been quick thinking but... i ai n't just gon na stand there!! However.. as soon as I began running it turned towards this group and within a split second I see all five of us scatter into different directions, some even running towards it. I do n't know what i must have done to grab its attention but it was coming for me, its large feet hit the ground with a massive bang and shook the ground a considerable amount causing me to lose footing constantly. I wish someone had gone the same way I had, I am going to die.
I ran as far as my legs could carry me, but I've come to a complete stop. A large fence protrudes my path and there is no way i'm getting over it in time. The monster just behind me finally gets within reaching distance, when suddenly some flying man in a cape punches this thing in the face! I know what you are thinking, this dude just punched a giant fucking Godzilla looking monster in the fucking face! Holy shit that was cool! Well until it began fighting back... After a good fight maybe about oh, 5 seconds the man in the air was swatted to the ground about 100 yards behind me. I thought I was saved, and now, now I die. The monster raises its foot over me like in that one ant movie, except... there was n't any gum. I close my eyes and await the warm sensation of death.
Or... not... At the second I am about to get crushed by this giant foot another man came from behind me, seemingly out of nowhere with a mask on his face. I know who it is though... I mean who is this guy fucking kidding with that facial mask. I can tell my the way his body is shaped and the sound of his voice, he is the jock from earlier. I still ca n't remember the name though... Whatever, He gets next to me and holds the foot up with strength i have never seen before he then said something like “ run away ” or “ get out ” or something of the like because before I could think I was already running as fast as I could along the fence line.
I'm not so sure what happened to Mr. body builder over there but once again I feel this giant thing coming after me again... ffs. My legs ca n't take it any more and i collapse, unless someone else would like to show up I know i'm not going live through this magnificent day of horror. And just then, you guessed it, the flash fucking came to save me. Although it was n't the flash.. It was my best friend Jacob.. Okay now when the fuck did he get this power eh? What the hell is going on right now? Of course he also has a mask on, like now apparently superheros are a thing... Does everyone have a power like this? He drops me off about a football field away from this thing and runs back into the fray... What the hell?..Whatever i'm safe now and I need to get home. The monster is busy fighting someone and I do n't intend to go over and watch the fantastic show, i'm fucking done here.
I begin to walk away from the scene being careful to watch over my shoulder every once in awhile to see if the thing is after me. Every time I look it seems like he is fighting another superhero, I remember seeing fire, ice, large rocks and a whole lot of other real special shit, but i never saw it fighting more than one at a time. If these heroes were smart why the fuck they fighting it one by one? Ugh, this is too much for one day, I think to myself holding up my jeans that were torn from the fucking flash zipping me off into the fucking twilight zone i need to talk to him about that tomorrow.. My best friend did n't even tell me about this power of his, how selfish. I wonder how he even got it, I wonder where all these fucking heroes.......
And it was just then, just interrupting that one simple thought when a large piece of debris hit the back of my head. Killing me on the spot. Now this was n't just any old piece of debris, no no, this had to be a thick fucking piece of gravel the size of a car. And no it was n't just a rock, you know those metal poles they put into concrete to stop it from fluctuating and keeping the stone much stronger than it would be if it did n't have those things in there? Yeah those twirly things inside the rock. Nevertheless those were also sticking outside this rock and sticking through me, one through my heart one though my kidney, arm and another one snapping my spine in two. I must have flown 50 yards with that rock. All they found of me was what looked like a dung pile of human flesh and bone. Yup I ’ m dead but oddly enough the story does n't end there. Don ’ t worry i'm just as excited as you are.
Cont..
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[ FF ] 250 words : Someone is watching you
| Eventually I knew it would come down to this. Me and her, just like she's always wanted. Why was I stupid enough to answer that phone call anyways? If I had never even answered then maybe I would be safe at home in my underwear while watching television. Instead, here I am. Cold, wet, quite hungry and fearing for my safety. I was n't sure if she was capable of hurting me, does anyone ever know these things from stalkers? Could I even call her that?
She had been born as a passing thought in my mind for years and now seeing her in the flesh has shaken me to the core. How could she be real? When or how did she even get my phone number? I foolishly agreed to meet her, thinking that she was a former classmate but as soon as I saw her face, I knew better. I'd ran away like a coward.
My entire life had been a lie, a made up dream to help me cope with the times. Seeing this'made up' face before me was a reminder of just how fake of a person I had been. I was a lost soul, just wandering around in a vessel waiting for my time. Is that really what I am?
The darkness of the alley brought me no relief. Rats scurried away from my feet, but I had no time to be afraid of them. I kicked at them and found a ladder attached to a tall apartment building. It was cold and wet but I managed to pull myself onto it. A sense of deja vu hit me hard but I managed to hold on to the bars. As I climbed up, I could feel her eyes piercing into me again. Though she has n't said much from the beginning, just that dark stare from her eyes were enough to make me speed up. My heart was racing as I pulled myself up onto the roof of the building. At some point I did have a plan, climbing the ladder was that plan and now I'm stuck. I wandered the edges of the roof, looking for another route but found none. This would have to be my last stand.
I stared hard at the place where I had climbed up. I waited for what seemed like forever until her pale hand reached up and grabbed the ledge. She did n't smile, her face never moved as she climbed herself up. That face could n't move at all, I knew why.
I screamed at her to let me be, her time of life was over. She continued walking towards me, slow and carefully as if her body could crumble into bits. That unmoving face terrified me, that warped and scarred face.
She never spoke as she finally reached me, long and thin fingers finding their way to my throat. I tried to scream but her slow movements were a false display of weakness. This girl was powerful. Her face never moved as she squeezed harder and harder. She pressed her forehead close to mine and stared straight into my eyes. It was obvious that she wished to be the only one to witness this view. I could n't have any regrets now. Bravely I returned her gaze and managed a smile as I looked at her.
`` I have your face.'' I managed to gasp as the last will of my body gave free.
________
Crap, I just saw that this is 250 words. @ _ @ Ignore me! lol
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[ wp ] / [ mp ] Write a realistic , believable backstory for a nonsense song .
| They waited silently for his judgement. They were the best in their respective fields, political analysts, media moguls, and scientists with more letters after their names than there were people in the room. Yet for all their titles they were, in that moment, held slave to the whims of the man who sat in the centre staring at the dead screen.
`` Are you sure, this will work?'' asked the President, staring at the screen. `` Y... yes. The research, the polls, all the evidence supports it,'' said the woman to his left with thirty years of media advertising experience. `` It's got everything! Youth appeal, celebrity cameos, even a call to conservatives,'' the CEO of three Forbes companies chimed in. `` It sends the right message to voters. We can have it up on the air by tomorrow pending your approval,'' said another, this one a Harvard graduate, confidently. A glare from the President silenced him.
They waited with bated breath.
The President glanced at his watch. Five more minutes of this shit before he could finally have some private time and have lunch with Michelle. He sighed. `` Play it again.''
The intern to his right nervously fiddled with the keyboard and restarted the video. And for the eighth time that day, the campaign video played again.
`` [ 1 2 3 4 5 6 pokemon ] ( www.youtube.com/watch? v=ZlVUXLBJg14 )''
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[ WP ] Two constraints : 1 . It 's raining 2 . There are only two characters . Go
| Bill sat motionless and as the steady beat of rain soaked his hair, face, shirt, pants, shoes, socks and anything else remotely connected to his body.
He did not want to be there but the scarp of paper in his hand was clear - to remain at this exact position until he received further orders. At least he no longer felt thirsty slurping down the large rain drops running down to his lips. However the hunger still gnawed at his insides like a quivering snake. His muscles had been aching for days and the warm rain had just begun to soothe the soreness when the woman appeared.
She strode confidently through the down poor the rain appearing to part around her. She was tall - Bill guessed at least 6 feet, a stark contrast to his short squat build. Her face was grim like the looming clouds in the distant mountains. Yet her eyes burned with hatred at him.
Bill's heart froze - this was not what was suppose to happen he followed the orders exactly.
She arrived at the bench and he saw her face soften. Bill remained motionless.
She spoke in a smooth voice with a hint of a British accent `` Remain here until further orders'' Then turned around and left.
It was going to be another long six months sitting on the rainy bench.
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[ WP ] You are born without emotions ; to compensate this , you started a donation box where people could donate their unwanted emotions . You 've lived a life filled with sadness , fear and regret until one day , someone donates happiness .
| **Lunch Box of Emotions**
Life tastes like a peanut butter sandwich without the peanut butter.
I was born without emotions. I saw laughter, tear and anger but never understood what they meant... until I found the lunch box.
The lunch box was hidden under the rubble in the abandoned lab of a mad scientist. It was not the kind of box I like. I like those treasure boxes in fairy tales, filled with mysteries and surprises. Instead, it was a gray and coldhearted metal box, like a medical equipment. A plate on the lid called it the Lunch Box of Emotions.
The box did not have emotions, but it had a mirror. Whoever looked at the mirror would have their emotions captured, and if I put a sandwich at the bottom of the mirror, it would capture the taste of the emotions.
I put the lunch box outside my house, with a sign explaining what it does.
First an angry youth passed by, he was angry about his friends and his family, his city and his country, the politics and the environment. He read my sign and gladly donated his anger into my lunch box. He left as angry as he came.
I tasted the sandwich spread with his anger -- too spicy. If that's what emotion tasted like, I was disappointed.
Then came a bitter old lady. She lamented her lost youth, her lost beauty, her lost love and her lost lottery ticket. She read my sign and donated me all her regret.
I tasted the sandwich made with her regret -- too bitter. If that's what emotion tasted like, I was disappointed.
Then came an old man wearing a tin-foil head. He always worried about the government was going to get him or the alien would kidnap him. He read my sign and donated me all his fear.
I tasted the sandwich made with his fear -- too salty. If that's what emotion tasted like, I was disappointed.
Then came a happy little girl. She was happy because she was playing candy crush. She donated all her happiness into my lunch box.
I tasted the sandwich made with her happiness -- too sweet. If that's what emotion tasted like, I was disappointed.
Twilight came and no one else passed by. I was still hungry, so I mixed all the sandwich together. It tasted a bit sweet, a bit salty, with a hint of bitter and spice, like a peanut butter sandwich with a homemade peanut butter.
If that's what emotions tasted like, I regret I could n't taste it earlier.
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[ WP ] In the near future , we have developed a machine that determines the user 's ideal soulmate across all of time and space . Write a rom-com detailing a certain user 's experience .
| Matchr. What a stupid name. But the premise is interesting to say the least. No more swiping right, no more stalking profiles, and no more disastrous breakups. Sounds almost too good to be true. No matter who you are or who your soulmate is ( soulmate? hah! ), you'll certainly be paired off and be happy from the single use of the service. Obviously there's a catch. And it's that there's different steps depending on who you are matched with. Oh boy. Knowing my luck, there'd be some long thousand step esoteric process before we're all squared away. And it certainly seems that way, given some of the possible outcomes.
The simplest is shared spacetime locale with no previous temporal obligations. Which, in regular people words means that your match is nearby and in the present time and is n't involved in some historical event. This is the regular person match.
Then there's the minor historical identity. Which is simply someone from the past who's not involved in anything major. These people can be extracted from the past and caught up with a year long integration course and a small fee. A lot of people who do n't get the first match end up here. Typically everything goes well.
Major identities are a problem that pop up every now and again. If they are historical, the person either has to stop the process, or go through a rigorous time navigation course, to ensure they do n't mess up history. They also have to lose all tech invented after their destination. However, depending on the situation, the major historical identity might be able to be extracted for a large sum and with a replacement individual. Not exactly an ideal circumstance, but some people sign up for this because they want to be a part of history. Make winners out of everyone they say.
Then there's the future identities. These are n't as much of a problem for us, and most people do n't get matched with them. Simply because future identities tend to arrive well before the customer has a chance to sign up for the service. So we really do n't worry about this case.
And finally, there's shared temporal long-distance matches. Aliens, basically. But this could also mean people of different timelines, or even a different version of yourself. Not very problematic, and it's dead simple to get them here. Not much different from the base case, really.
I hear there's many more cases, but those are the major ones. And that typically people fall under at least one of them. Outliers exist, but are n't that heard of. Me? I'm signing up because of the insistence of some friends. I have n't had much luck in the realm of romance, so I figured I'd give it a shot.
`` John?''
Oh, that's me. `` Yeah? Did the results come through?''
`` They did. But I do n't think you are going to like the result.''
Shit. Do n't tell me I'm one of those famous identity cases? I'm also not fond of the idea of hooking up with an alien! Am I really that weird? `` So uhhh... What kind of match is it?''
`` Your match is a figurative extracted automaton identity.''
What in the fuck does that mean? I do n't think I've ever heard of such a thing before. `` Could you explain? I tried to study up on all of the matches before I got here, but I must have missed that one...''
`` Oh dear. How should I put this? It's a... rare case. And not one that is advertised very often. These matches have a long initiation process and are n't looked favorably upon by many people of the present time, nor the past. In these cases we typically offer the individual a one way future travel package at the end of their initiation. As for the match itself, it requires extracting.... err... I suppose the best way of putting it is that we take someone who exists in your mind and give them a body. Did you get all of that? Do you still want to go through with the initiation?''
Long initiation process? Not looked upon favorably? One way travel package? Giving someone from my mind a body? What the fuck? Are they calling me crazy? At this point I feel like some old famous person would've been better.
`` Oh what the hell, let's do it. What does initiation involve?''
`` First is ideation, we need to get a solid foundation for the identity, so we are able to extract it. Then we extract it and apply it to a relevant body. This step is fairly simple, but comes with a caveat of lacking some... basic functions. Not a huge hassle, but it is part of the process. Finally we culturalize. Culturalizing is a normal part of any matching process not native to this location in spacetime. Naturally this entire process requires direct involvement on your part in each step. You may also need to culturalize and familiarize with the new identity, as it will most likely act different than most people you know. Again, this is something many individuals go through, although in this case it will be a bit different. Due to the circumstances.''
Due to the circumstances, right. They are definitely calling me crazy. Are they really expecting me to believe they are just going to pull my soulmate ( of all people ) straight out of my head? And what do they mean lacking some basic functions? Is my soul mate retarded or something? `` Right. How long will this whole thing take? Are we talking a couple hours or....''
`` We can have you walking out of here in a few hours, yes. However, body familiarization and culturalization will certainly take up some time. Body familiarization is not common and ranges depending on the individual. Culturalization generally takes up to a year. If there's any problems, there's a possibility of using your future travel package early, if that's what you are worried about.''
That's not what I was worried about. `` Alright, let's do this.''
`` Alright. Get up and take a stretch for now, if you'd like. You'll be sitting in that chair for the next few hours while the extraction process takes place. So make yourself comfortable. We'll also be probing your thoughts a bit. You do n't mind, right? This is essential for the extraction.''
Damn, this means they are going to see all the fucked up things I think about... Is what I'd normally be worried about. But the truth is that I have n't thought of anything but this initiation process, and what type of girl is going to come out at the other end... And if they see that, it's not all that much of a problem. Is n't that the whole point of this? `` I'm good, thanks.''
For the next few hours I sat there and thought about my new future with this girl. Can she even be called that? How pathetic am I going to look, with this... extracted identity? Why is it in me in the first place? Let's just hope everything goes smoothly. I wonder what they meant by... `` Basic functions?'' I accidentally said that last part out loud.
`` Yes. Not all extracted ideations are fully equipped to maneuver a constructed body. Since they are figurative, after all. They do n't have experience doing things that are pretty common. Even though they are competent in their mental capacities. You might need to... teach them things. Like how to walk, eat, that sort of thing.''
I was right. They are matching me with a retard.
`` Not quite. The ideation's mental capacities are fully equipped. It's just the adaptation to a physical body is troubling. Perhaps try imagining if you got a completely new body. That's what it's like. And we do n't actively choose matches. They are predetermined. Anyway, the ideation is complete and we can move on to the extraction process. It wo n't be much longer.''
Great. I can finally get out of here.
The Matchr attendant opens a large container and much to my surprise a drop dead beautiful girl was in there. She opens her eyes and begins to speak, or rather... yell...
`` A-A-A-ALL-ALL-ALLIssssssss''
Yup. She might be beautiful. But she's as stupid as I thought. Is this really my soulmate? I have a long day ahead of me... `` Alice? Nice to meet you. I'm John. Do you understand what's going on?''
`` Y-YEEEsss. ^^^^^^hello...''
She barely whispered that last bit.
`` As I mentioned, it'll take some time to adapt to her new physical body. She can fully understand what you are saying, but will have difficulty speaking for some time. She'll get the hang of it soon enough.''
As the attendant was telling me this, Alice had fallen forward right on top of me, knocking me over. She blushes from this fumble. The attendant rushes over and helps us both up, and helps Alice into a wheelchair that was seemingly prepared beforehand.
`` This adjustment time also effects her ability to walk and move. So for the time being she can use this wheel chair. Naturally you'll need to wheel her around, as she probably does n't know how to move her arms yet.''
Jeez. So what she's saying is I got ta do everything for this girl. What a hassle.
`` That should be all for now. Here's your one way tickets for future travel, if you decide to use them. And as always, we are open 24/7 for any help and support you may require. Feel free to contact us any time if either of you have problems adjusting to your new life. We also ask that you make weekly visits, so we can provide guidance and keep tabs on your quality of life. Thank you and come again!''
And that's how I met my physically retarded girlfriend straight out of my brain through Matchr. This was n't the end of our antics, but perhaps we'll stop here. It's certainly been a weird relationship.
Edit: That was actually pretty fun to write. But I was running out of space, and it's getting late. Might add more to this later...
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[ WP ] Choose Your Own Prompt . Write about how ( aliens , zebras , or terrorists ) ( ate , kidnapped , or befriended ) ( your family , Benjamin Franklin , or your classmate ) .
| `` This truly is a great night for my kite experiment'' thought Ben Franklin as he stood in the middle of Philadelphia.
The thunderstorm on that summer night was getting stronger and stronger. Finally just at the moment when lightning struck Franklin's kite, he blacked out. He entered a deep sleep and had a terrible dream about being captured by some Frenchmen off the coast of Delaware. What he woke up to find was much worse.
When he woke up, Franklin found himself in a strange craft that seemed to be made all out of iron or some other sort of material. Also bright lights were flashing all about, and their were loud noises and a bunch of humanoid figures with long ears and nearly nonexistent noses running around the ship. There also were strange creatures who beeped and ran around on wheels that were made of some hard substance.
Finally, one of the pointy eared men came up to him and started talking.
`` So you're the great inventor from earth. Mr. Franklin is your name correct?''
`` Why yes it is. How do you know that? Where am I? I demand to know what's going on'' said Franklin rather angrily.
`` You are on the Starcruiser 7100, which is the main ship used by the Dabroxian Empire. And you Mr. Franklin must stop making your inventions or else your race will defeat ours, and we ca n't have that.''
`` What? how could we do that. I do n't even know what half of this is. Although maybe a good musket could penetrate this... this..... contraption.''
`` Not now, but we can see the future. Some day your'e race will make bombs that can ruin planets. So we must stop the advance of science.''
`` But, why. I mean we are peaceful. At least we would be. I hope in the future that science and reason can make all people..... and whatever you are, friends.''
`` We ca n't be friends with a mongrel race such as yours. We were separated by God after so many years. You all bred with those dirty neanderthals while we decided to leave. At least you're finally starting to catch up.''
`` How do I even know what you're saying is true. I bet this is a dream. There are n't space aliens, and even if there were.....''
`` Maybe your'e the Alien Mr. Franklin.''
`` I doubt it.''
`` Well then we'll put you in prison and take you back to Dabrox.''
`` But I ca n't go. I ca n't. I''
Just then an alien with a strange looking musket pointed it at Franklin. Once again he fell into a deep dark sleep. When he woke up though, he was back in his bed.
`` Rough night Mr. Franklin'', said his housekeeper, Mrs. Darlington.
`` Yes, you could say that.''
`` Well i'll get your breakfast ready.''
Just then he noticed that as Mrs. Darlington took her bonnet off, she had pointy ears.
`` Oh no. He thought to himself''
It most certainly was n't a dream.
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[ EU ] Rust Chole is chosen to give the commencement speech at your graduation . The messege is ... off-putting .
| `` I do n't know what what you want from me or what you expect from me in this speech. Inspiration? To do what? You are who you are, you're already on the path you're going to take, it's the same path you've taken countless times before, nothing I say will change that. It's an endless cycle, a flat circle, the only good part is that it seems new to us each time.
Now do n't get me wrong, life being futile is no reason to become a scumbag. Here's some useful advice, be careful what you become good at. There's only time in life to become good at one, maybe two, things. If you become good at resolving customer complaints then you're going to spend your life listening to people complain. If you become good at being a whore then that's all you'll do. I've seen what happens to whores, either killed in some fucked up way or used by men like my friend Marty over there, hey Marty.
There's more dark in each of us than good. Most people are ignorant and unthinking, believing whatever they're told to believe, including all of you. I'll leave you with this thought to ponder, make your actions more meaningful than your beliefs.''
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[ WP ] A story with a plot twist no one will see coming
| Mr. Twist was a young man who needed to learn some respect. He was a nice kid and I do n't think he meant any harm, but something was n't quite right - he was slightly impaired in the head. He lived in his own little world. I had been telling him for months to stay off my property, but for some reason he thought he had the right to come and go whenever he wanted.
I was entertaining guests one afternoon, when he came wandering right through the front door.
`` Look Mr. Twist, this has to stop. You have no right to be here. Now, go mind your own business and do n't let me catch you on my property or entering my home uninvited again.''
`` I'm only trying to help you. I know it's hard for you to understand, but you're in a lot of trouble, and we need to talk in private.''
There he goes again, insisting that we need to talk and sort things out. I've tried, but our talks never get anywhere. Just him asking me a bunch of nonsensical questions that go on and on. Simply put, Mr. Twist is delusional.
I looked him in the eye and tried to be stern, but not rude.
`` I do n't want your help, Mr. Twist. I'm not in any kind of trouble. Please, just leave me alone so I can go back to my card game with my friends.''
`` I'm afraid I ca n't do that. I'm going to stay here for a few hours and just watch you. Observe your behavior for a little while.''
`` Hell no, you're not.'' I began to raise my voice. `` Now get the hell out of here before I throw you out.''
He looked me right in the face and calmly said `` No. I'm not leaving. It's for your own good.''
I'd had enough of this young punk's stubbornness and disrespectful attitude. It was time to scare him a little. I had no intention of actually hurting him - just wanted to intimidate him and send a clear message. I firmly grabbed him by the shoulders and said, `` I'll kick your ass if I have to. You might be half my age, but I've still got it in me.''
He looked genuinely scared. He tried to push me away, but I just tightened my grip and forced him against a wall.
`` Security! ``, he yelled at the top of his lungs. Two huge guys came out of nowhere and grabbed me. I did n't know who they were, but I was n't going down without a fight. A third guy came in carrying a syringe.
`` Should we sedate him, Dr. Twist?''
`` Yeah, go ahead. I do n't know if there's any hope. He's so far separated from reality, I do n't know what else to do.''
I felt the needle pierce my skin, and suddenly noticed how white the walls of my home looked.
|
[ EU ] Calvin and Susie Derkins find themselves on opposite sides of the desk during a parent-teacher conference .
| Just one last parent teacher conference and I will be done meeting with all the parents, this last meeting will be one of the more interesting ones.
I am meeting with a Mrs. Adler who missed back to school night do to something at work otherwise she may have been ready for my unique teaching style. Instead she called in the first week complaining that I am expecting to much of the class. Later after the first `` Test'' I received another call complaining because I do n't give partial credits and have failed her little Bill. After her informing me that she is a lawyer and threatening to sue I knew that Mrs. Adler would be one of the difficult ones.
As the door opens a face I have seen before appears. I could n't put my finger on why the face seems so familiar but what was unexpected was the smile on her face. Before I can open my mouth to welcome Mrs. Adler she says `` Calvin? Is that really you?''. It immediately hits me, `` Susie Derkins, well I guess it is Susie Adler now. It has been entirely too long. Almost''
`` Almost 10 years now'' Susie Interrupts. `` Wow I would have never believed the famous Mr. W was you Calvin.''
`` Famous Mr. W?'' I ask? as Susie starts pulling out a gift from her purse.
`` I want to thank you.'' She places the gift on my desk. `` I have seen an unbelievable improvement in Bill. He is excited to go to school now, is keeping a journal, and is actually reading in his free time''.
I open up the gift and see it it an expensive Rolex. `` Wow! This is too much I ca n't accept this.'' I respond and push the watch back over to Suzie.
`` This small gift is nothing considering how you changed Bill, before you he was barely managing in school, I do n't know how you have done it.''
`` The truth is that Bill reminds me a lot of myself when I was that age, which is probably why I give him more specialized attention. I use different ways too keep him interested. I know how to get his wild imagination to motivate him in his learning. For example in order to motivate him in history after I had the class do an assignment on how to prepare to time travel into the past, I made it real for him and pretended to actually travel with him into the past on a secret mission.''
`` Well whatever you are doing it is working. Are you sure you ca n't accept this?'' Susie asks holding up the watch.
`` No I am just doing my job plus a watch like that is too fancy for me. But I would n't mind catching up over coffee.''
|
[ WP ] Help a guy get over his ex-girlfriend and move on using Dr. Seuss 's writing style .
| There are plenty of fish
out in the sea;
There are tons for you
and tons for me.
If one you catch is just not right,
you need not mourn all day and night.
Just throw it back,
and you will see,
truly how many fish
are in the sea.
Some fish are big,
some fish are small,
some fish have plans,
some not at all.
Some fish will cheat,
and steal your bait.
Some fish will not bite,
but some will, just wait.
When the time is right,
your fish will come;
your mind will race,
your heart will thrum.
do not give up hope,
my fisherman friend,
for it will all be worth it,
in the end.
|
[ WP ] Curious George , CIA Interrogator .
| `` Ok, so there was this monkey, right, I think his name was George.''
*'' George the monkey, ok.'' *
`` Right well, this monkey, George, he was like well curious n'that, and he used to go about flying a kite, and doing loads of jobs -- ``
*'' What kind of jobs? `` *
`` You know, just loads --''
*'' Like what? `` *
`` CIA Interrogator?''
*'' Play a record. `` *
`` No listen, right, the monkey he was well curious and he --''
*'' Play a record. `` *
`` Well, it's right here Steve, if you want to take a look''
*'' Do n't hand Steve a piece of paper, with some nonsense, from some mentalist out there that you believe because you saw it on'the internet.' Their winding you up Karl! This did n't happen. It's in your head! `` *
`` Well...''
*'' Right, that's the end of Monkey News. What's next? `` *
`` We got Rockbusters next.''
*'' Christ. Play a record. `` *
|
[ WP ] A suicidal man , who is unaware of his immortality , attempts to hang himself . His roommate finds him alive and well , whilst hanging .
| `` WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED HERE?''
`` You know. I'm just hanging around,'' Jeremy jokingly said. He was really fond of dark humor, but I did n't know if I should laugh this time.
I rushed to get him out of the leather belt that's choking him, but he seemed unfazed. His face was n't purple, and he was breathing fine. I cut him off with my utility knife, and he fell face-first on the floor. He stood up quickly, taking off the leather garment off his neck.
I pulled him up and sat him on the chair. `` Okay, man. What happened?''
He sighed. `` I do n't wan na talk about it.''
`` What do you mean'I do n't wan na talk about it'? Come on, man. I just saw you hanging from the ceiling! We've been best buds since Freshman, do you really think I wo n't understand...''
`` OKAY, OKAY!!! I'VE BEEN HANGING FROM THE CEILING FOR AN HOUR NOW, AND I'M STILL ALIVE. I DO N'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON, BUT I CA N'T DIE, OKAY???''
He started sobbing helplessly. `` I... I just ca n't.''
I stared at him, bewildered by what he just said. `` Um... okay. I know that this is weird and all, but calm down. We'll figure something out for you. Let me just grab a glass of water for you from the kitchen. I promise we'll figure it out, okay? Just... stay there.''
I took a glass and filled it with water, when I heard the window shatter from the other room.
`` Jeremy?!''
I dropped the glass and ran to the other room. `` JEREMY???''
I looked out the broken window. Directly below was a pool of blood, and a distraught figure running away from the puddle.
|
[ TT ] After the Lunar War of 2140 , what remains will always occupy the night sky as a testament to our sins
| The dark sky's only darken further as the council takes their seats. I take my position, but not by choice. Lead to a podium in chains and locks, an infinite number of security ideas to test upon me, all for if I get any funny ideas.
A man at the head of the council's oval table takes off his hood, although his face was still obscured in shadows. I can tell he's looking at me by a mere glimpse of the whites of his eyes. His wizened old voice rises slowly, like an engine being revved as he prepares to speak. `` Now, I am under the impression you understand what is above us in the sky. Now, although I think you know who I am and what I know, tell me. What is in the sky?''
I swallow, it's all I can do under this labyrinth of locks and metal. `` It's a planet. To immortalise what humanity has does wrong, a dark bodies to block out part of the sun, enough to chill but not enough to starve. A perpetual sentence of near death where the light of the sun never touches the earth for more than a fraction of what it did.'' I pause and find the corners of my mouth twitching up into a smile. `` And I know what caused it and why it's where it is.''
The Elder regarded me coldly, there was a whispered hush coming from the other members of the council as he stood and paced around the table, coming closer and closer to me. `` Is that so? Well then, why do n't you just tell me?''
`` I would nod, but these chains have me bound up tight!'' I joke, he does n't even chuckle. `` 2140, we declare war upon the night skies and the gods. We decimate the celestial guardians of the world, bringing them down with impure fury. They had never seen such fearful power from any race before, and we crushed them under our iron first.'' He came so close, I could see him in the dulled moonlight. A grey beard wrapped around his face, and short equally grey hair adorned his head. He looked every bit the wise scholar. `` Ah. So you know the truth.'' It was a simple remark, but somehow I know it has sealed my fate.
`` So child.'' I interject with a snort. `` I'm twenty three!'' `` So child. How do you know of us, what we do? How did you find us?''
`` Well, Watchmen. I know who you are because of what you've done. And because there is and will always be nowhere else for me to go. I, unlike you, am an anomaly known to seek the secrets of the past. I just happen to not be dead like the others.''
I continue, but he still looks chilled and cold a glacier might be warmer than this man. `` When I grew up my father told me I was always going to live my life one of two ways. He would look me dead in the eye, and say `` Son. In our lifetime and I suspect yours, there's two ways to live. You Serve, or you break the patterns that would emerge and be.'' and he always said it that way. I did n't realise until I started living for real that I was caught between the two lines. The branches and the roots. But unlike you! I wo n't stand by and idly let the world go to hell because of the mistakes of our past!'' I spat into his face, and he did n't even wipe it off, just smile at me as if he was regarding a curio in a gift shop rather than a human being. That tiny smile was spread across his face like a paper cut. `` And, trapped in the dirt underneath the branches and above the roots, what did you do?''
`` I survived. I adapted and survived in a way nobody could. And I learned!'' I found myself screaming, screaming at his emotionless husk of a body that treated me like a joke.
`` Then if you understand everything so well. Why do n't you tell me why we have a dark planet lurking over the sky?'' He shook his head softly, I feel as if he did n't regard me with enough interest to put more energy into it.
`` Because there's a divide. Watchmen, and makers are in dissent. Two forces fighting against each other when they should be working in harmony. That's why we went to war with those in the sky. Why space is bound to our will. Because you are n't who you say you are, and neither am I. We're just two sides of the same round coin.
`` So, you are of the Watchmakers then?'' it was a dull surprise in his voice that caught me off guard.
`` No. I'm the edge separating heads and tails. and I'm done living in fear.'' The council all stood, an army of imposing demons.
`` No, my boy. You're just done living.'' And there was a high pitched whine, and everything went dark.
|
[ CW ] Write a fight scene without the use of dialogue
| A massive fist connects with concrete, smashing through as it narrowly misses its target. The slim man who has just dodged the crucial punch now moves for the door, his only hope to survive.
Rumbling signals more debris falling from the ceiling, choking the atmosphere with a cloud of white dust. Behind him the hulking figure of the creature approaches, its loud footsteps booming, echoing through the underground garage. A cacophony of car alarms already blaring are joined by the crunch of metal as it flips away vehicles in its path.
Having reached the door, the man dashes up the stairs, leaving behind the abomination. Every step fills him more and more with a sense of freedom, happy to have escaped. *Only a little further, one more flight to ground level*, he thinks, reading the floor sign in the last well.
As he turns the knob to the exit however, he is met with an even worse sight as two of the creatures clash before him. Desks and sofas careen across the polished marble floors as the two combatants grapple each other, roaring magnificently. Embroiled in their personal conflict, they do n't take notice of him.
For what that was worth, he was n't sure. There was no way he could get by the destruction that lay before him.
Suddenly from behind, the former creature burst through the wall, slamming the thin man into a wall as it gripped him tightly in its malformed and mutated hand.
Its glare met his eye as he felt his body yielding to the pressure it was forcing upon him, bones grinding, muscle straining. It caused the man great pain, so much that he screamed, not in agony - but in anger. He had tried to escape, tried to avoid causing any more destruction and pain, but they just would n't let him escape.
An inhuman bellow escaping his mouth, the creature looked on in horror as the man changed, growing, expanding until it could no longer grip him.
Green skin shimmered with sweat as the newly formed man looked up, meeting the now terrified eyes of the creature with a glare of his own. An explosive roar burst through the lobby, signaling that the battle had only just begun...
|
[ WP ] when you die , every time someone thinks of you , you get a signal telling you that you have been just remembered . Everyone around you gets a couple of signals every day . You passed away a year ago . Still nothing .
|
`` I just dont get it man'' said Jim. I sit here all damn day and not one notification!'' Slamming his Iheaven onto the table. `` Jesus.. I mean Jim stop it… it ai n't broke'' said Einstein grabbing his hand.
`` It has to be! Its been a whole year! Why does hitler over there get a notification after.5 seconds while I cant even get half of one!? He started a whole world war for fucks sake!''
`` Calm down… nothing in the rules that say you had to be good… just thought of… even if your one of the most hated men I suppose.'' Einstein shrugged looking at his notifications. `` OOO look at this a whole class room is talki-'' Jim glared at him and sighed. `` Sorry. I get carried away sometimes.''
`` I WOULD N'T KNOW! ``
`` What exactly did you do for the 30 years you were on earth anyway? `` asked Einstein.
`` Well... before the car wreck…. I did.. stuff. You know school.''
`` No one thinks about you cause you went to school… unless your me said Einstein. `` Creating the Atomic bomb and all that. Anyway after high school?''
`` I mean… i did n't have alot of choices ya know? Jim shifted in his seat uncomfortably. `` Was n't sure what I wanted to do. So I did computer stuff until I figured it out'' waving his through the air.
Einstein leaned over with his chin resting on his hands. `` Like what computer stuff? Java? You build those app thingies you folks make these days?''
`` No I played….a game...''
`` A game?''
`` Yea it was called world of warcraft.''
`` Wait wait wait… I know that game. Your telling me all you did after high school was play World of Wacraft until you were 30 and the one time you get out of the house you get yourself killed? HAH!'' he said laughing hysterically.
`` Shutup. I did great things in that game! Servers first level 70! First raid finish! Why do n't they remember me?''
`` Aint nobody gon na remember ya under a game alias. Iheaven is set for Jim not whatever orc thing you played as in a virtual world.''
`` Wait thats it!!'' said Jim excitingly. `` Whats what?'' Jim was already jamming away on his Iheaven `` lets see here…settings….profile….''
`` What are you doing?''
`` Im not Jim… it should n't be set to Jim… I am known as… Blazeitorc420''
`` You have to be kiddi-'' Jims Iheaven lit up blipping away…blip.. blip.. `` It worked! Ive had over a million hits already!''
`` I should post this on reddit!''
|
[ WP ] '' A superhero fights crime as a part of a team , apparently with the ability to hit his target perfectly with whatever weapon he shoots or throws on the first try . In reality , he has terrible aim , and his actual power is to stop time . He goes through extraordinary efforts to maintain his secret . ''
| `` Shoot him, James!'' yells Captain Cacophony, stupidly choosing to use my real name. He is panicked; his voice trembles almost as much as the arm he uses to point towards Doctor Munchausen.
The Doctor smiles at me. It is a strange smile; a knowing smile. Perhaps he is ready to die. His finger lowers towards the controller he holds in his other hand; New York is an inch away from ending.
`` James!'' my friend screams, his voice uncontrolled and primal. I feel a tremendous pain inside my ears, and the warmth of blood as it trickles over fine hairs deep within my ear canals. For some reason my thoughts begin to drift - I need to have my ears cleaned. I've never had them cleaned properly before, with one those syringes the doctors use - I bet they'd wash out a ton of wax. How well would I hear, then? How much sound am I missing out on?
Even as I pull the trigger, my thoughts wander. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, determined to concentrate on the job. When I open them, the bullet is stopped only a metre or two away. It hovers there like a tiny drone floating above the cracked pavement.
Suzie's funeral pushes its way into my mind. *God, I miss you. You would have loved saving New York one last time. *
I pluck the bullet out of the air. It's beautiful really. So simple, so deadly.
Doctor Munchausen is like a stone jester, grinning in the face of imminent death.
He knows - thinks - I never miss a shot. He does n't *know* my real power - no one does. This way no one can stop me, at least not with technology. The *CopKiller* wore an electro-magnetic vest. He thought that would negate my aim. I strolled up to him and turned the magnet off, then I let the bullet continue its path into his brain. I paused time for a while, as the bullet exited his head. To this day I do n't know why I did it; I'm not sadistic, but I confess I felt a strange kind of satisfaction in that moment.
Doctor Munchausen knew he was dead even before his finger began to lower. So, why'd he try? What an absurd grin he's wearing. The smile of a man who knows death is about to grab him by the hand and drag him to another world.
*God damn, me and Suzie made a good team. *
I place the bullet an inch from Doctor Munchausen's chest. An easier point of entry than through his helmet. I walk back to Captain Cacophony and position the gun by my eye once more. A deep breath later, time resumes and the bullet enters the Doctor's chest.
I feel the ground move, and I see a distant flash. *Oh, God. * I stop time - but I was too slow - the nuke is exploding. Some of central Manhattan is likely already gone.
I walk over to Doctor Munchausen's still grinning, standing-corpse. Blood globules have escaped his chest, hanging mid air like deranged red rain. But it's not just blood; there are tiny shards of metal mingled in. The real detonator was in his chest - the bomb miles away from us. I've just sentenced New York to death. The moment I unpause time, millions upon millions will die.
I sit on the curb for a while, as shock washes over me. Could I evacuate New York? How many could I move before I'm too old and too broken to go on. Not many.
My last conversation with Suzie plays like an old piano song in my mind. *If you ca n't save them all, what's the point of having powers? * she says, crying.
I play a counter melody, *You did your best. That's all any of us can do. *
*It was n't good enough, James! *
The chords become dissonant. *I ca n't do it any more, James. Any of this. I did n't ask for these powers or responsibilities. *
The music hangs.
So does Suzie.
I walk over to Captain Cacophony, and I gently close his mouth and force his lips into a frozen smile. I put my arm around his shoulders. `` Sorry old buddy.''
I think of Suzie, one last time. `` See you soon, baby.''
As I unfreeze the world, a thought crosses my mind. *How pleasant and warm the breez-*
|
[ WP ] You are born with the ability to stop time , but one day you see something else is moving when you have already stopped time .
| I was seventeen years old, that's counting the time I actually moved through with everybody else. I can not account for the'time' I have spent suspended, there was simply no way to measure that, no clocks, no day and night. The only thing that moved was me, well to some degree. After I unstopped the time I always ended up in the same state I stopped it at, no matter what. Once I wandered all the way to Mexico, quite an adventure considering I had to make the whole journey on my feet, took me few months at least. I think. The blisters that I got during that, bloddy mess, but no matter. As I mentioned I returned to the very same state I have stopped the time at. As If I have n't moved an inch. You could say I've lived at least few lifetimes. But that's no life I got to tell you, the excitment wears pretty qucikly. With all that time I had I could have been the smartest person there is. I did n't even have to learn all of the things, just stop the time when needed and read on the necessary. I've read many books. Couple thousand at least. I lost the count. Going to school stopped being interesting after I peeked under every girls dress. My mind may have been centuries old, it was telling me no, but my body, it was telling me yes. I have never gone further than that. Just a peek. I eagrly awaited the time I turn eighteen, but as the time passed I grew more impatient. I just wished I was older, I just wished I could finally be considered the adult that I really am. I wished I could speed up the time instead of stopping it. The day of my birthday came closer and closer, finally I would be an adult. I stopped the time more often and often, I wanted to savor that feeling, I finally was excited for something. Two days before my birthday I felt a slight warm breeze at the back of my neck. I quickly unstopped the time, I was petrified. It was the first time I felt something like this. I was afraid to stop the time again, but I was somehow drawn to it, something new, a fresh feeling. I stopped the time again. I felt a slight touch on my hand, like someone wanted to grab me but could n't. I panicked, I did n't even take a look, I unstopped the time. My hand hurt, it hurt badly, like something was pulling it apart. But I would n't give up, I could n't. I had to be braver I told myself. I am no child. I stopped the time.
- Hello. - Said the voice behind my back.
- Hello. - I answered, but I could n't turn to see whose voice it was, altough it was oddly familiar.
- It's time to choose. Choose but wisely. There is no return.
- Time to choose what?
- Time to choose.
- But time to choose what? - I asked angrily.
- Precisely, the time. - He whispered into my ear.
- I do n't understand, who are you?
- No matter who I am. You must choose, what will you choose? Time or no time? Choose quickly, as there is no time.
- I choose time. - I yelled.
I came back and I was no child, no more.
PS: I'm not that great at english, and it really is only my third story written in it besides the two i wrote yesterday, so I would greatly appreciate any tips.
|
[ WP ] A man wakes up to find his lifelong wish of having wings has been granted , only to realize he 's too fat to get off the ground .
| Harvey's alarm went off. He rolled from his left side to his right and reached for his phone without opening his eyes.
*Crash. *
No phone. Harvey felt around and realized there was also no lamp and no books. His bedside table had been cleared off. He remembered there had been more noise than usual this morning, and he opened his eyes. He looked from the bedside table to the floor. Everything was there, spread out like it had been swept quickly from the table's surface.
Harvey tried to determine the cause. The blankets could've done it, or maybe the pillows. His back itched. Maybe his arm had knocked everything off and he had been too sleepy to remember it. That happened sometimes in the morning. His back itched even more, and he scratched it, running his fingers between the feathers to get to the skin.
Feathers. Harvey kept scratching, enjoying the tickle of the feathers in his hand. He got both hands involved. After a few minutes of vigorous activity, he stopped suddenly.
Feathers. Feathers on my back.
Harvey leaped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. He did n't make it past the doorway. He carefully folded his wings back and managed to squeeze through.
Wings!
In the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. Sticking up from his shoulders were two beautiful white wings. He stretched out his arms and focused carefully on stretching his wings with them. The wingtips extended past his fingers by at least two feet.
Wings!
Harvey chuckled. His bare belly jiggled up and down. He practiced folding and unfolding his new limbs. He stretched them above his head and knocked down the shower curtain rod. He turned around to get a better look but could n't see over his shoulder into the mirror. Wrapping the wings tightly around his body, he breathed in the smell of feathers.
With care, Harvey walked into the living room. From the living room he had access to the balcony, a balcony that offered a great view of the city from fourteen stories up. He opened the sliding glass door and stepped into the fresh morning air.
Harvey took a deep breath and spread his wings wide. He gave a few test flaps and nothing really happened. Well, that was to be expected. He jumped a little as he flapped harder. There was still no floating, no lightness.
Hmmm.
On the railing to Harvey's right was a pigeon. He swung his large hand at the bird, sending it into the air. He watched carefully. The pigeon left the railing in a flurry of beating wings. So this was the problem! He was n't flapping *fast* enough.
Harvey tensed his whole body and beat his wings furiously. He hopped a few times. He nearly blacked out from the effort and was no closer to flying. But on the side of the building he spotted a crow.
He studied the crow.
The crow launched from the building, spreading its wings on the way down. It looked so easy! The air caught the wings and lifted the crow with almost no effort. A few flaps here and there.
`` That's it!'' he cried. `` I'm not a pigeon, I'm a crow!''
Harvey climbed up on the railing, bent his knees, and jumped.
*********
*If you like this story I have some more [ here ] ( https: //medium.com/ @ zwalchuk ), including my most recent story [ `` The Dragon'' ] ( https: //medium.com/ @ zwalchuk/the-dragon-b30260e7304 ) *
|
[ WP ] `` Hey , I know things are bad . But with a little effort , I 'm sure we can turn this around . '' `` It is the goddamn Apocalypse , Jerry ! ''
| Jerry was one of those people that if you called him up on the phone and you only talked to him for a few minutes you'd think he was a great guy with his shit together. In actuality he was a dick. He was my pseudo-boss. His job title and the position he claimed was his were vastly different. He would complain about how hard and tedious his job was, to the point they actually hired a temp to be his little bitch. When the work was complete he'd brag to anyone with an ear about how he overcame all the challenges single handily. When someone else did something noteworthy he spent the next week or two belittling them and trying his best to humiliate them.
It was a Tuesday, why I remember this I do n't know, perhaps because payroll was done on Tuesdays. Danielle and I had just come back from lunch. She was a sweet girl and jerry was probably going to burn through her in a few weeks. Temps either quit after working with him or he decided to blame one of his failings on her. Either way it was only a few more weeks till her contract ran up and she was n't `` hot enough'' for jerry to keep on.
There'd been a lot of traffic on the way back, we were running late. We rounded the corner and practically ran into jerry.
`` Just read the traffic report, the interstate is backed up for miles. It will already take me an hour to get home. I'm leaving. Danielle that report was n't in my email, i should have it already. What were you doing?'' Jerry demanded haughtily.
`` I just got back from lunch.'' She replied. Jerry rolled his eyes hard and mumbled something before walking out.
Twenty minutes later jerry was back inside. Shaking. His eyes were wide and he was ghostly white. I thought maybe he was having a stroke.
He stammered out words and eventually I pieced together `` people were eating each other.''
Dan and I went to the window, and I wo n't go into the gory details, but there were people outside and a lot of blood. About this time the security system activated, all the metal doors swung shut and the intercom played a message about a bomb threat.
After a few hours the murderous rampage outside had moved on. It was like waiting for a break in the rain during a hurricane.
We had decided to go in my truck, to Danielle's house first. Then to jerry's. My truck was not far from the backdoor. The plan was for me to get in the cab and for them to get in the bed.
The roads were a mess, I ended up pushing at least two cars off the road that had stalled while Danielle steered. Jerry would n't come out of the truck. We made it to Danielle's house just before sunset. Jerry suddenly manned up and She and jerry went inside, I'm still not sure what they saw, but Danielle was stone faced when she came back out with a backpack.
It was awkward as we drove off towards Jerrys house. Jerry found the nerve to speak. `` Hey, I know things are bad, but we can totally turn this around''
Her voice was flat and monotone, it chilled me to hear her speak
`` It's the God damn apocalypse, jerry''
My ears rang from the sound of the gun.
`` What the fuck, Dan!'' I yelled, and then laughed nervously.
How I did n't crash the truck I still do n't know.
We pulled over, and dragged his dead body from the truck. The smirk on his face was still there as we drove off into the night towards my home. To this day I still do not cross Dan, she may look cute and innocent... But she's a survivor. I would n't still be here without her.
|
[ WP ] The year is 2080 . There are several Moon bases and space stations orbiting it . One day , communication from Earth ceases .
| 'I know our relationship with earth isnt very good. But this is unprecedented!''We still have family back on earth! Is this war??!''We should never have renounced the earthly holidays!' I hear a thousand voices from a thousand representatives. As supreme command of the lunar confederate, i had to show them I have things under control. Though if i was honest, yes, i am a little alarmed by this.
'SHUT UP!' I lashed out. And the chatroom was silent.'We're the evolution of mankind. We solve. Council, give me reasons for this. Starting with you, chief or relations.'
'It must be because of our latest policy on banning political correctness. Political correctness is how we have high level talks with them. The fact that they havent acknowledged our memo tells us that, coupled with our previous deviations...'
'Okay' i cut him off before he completed his sentence.'How about you, chief of intelligence?'
'Uhh... its probably North Korea trying some looney shit again..' i could hear the incompetence in his voice, ffs North Korea doesnt even exist anymore. I was about to question him when the planetary comm cackled to life. I took the first step.
'It is I, Jim, whom rocks yearn to be. Acknowledge my presence.'
After an eventful pause...
'April fools, you lunatic fucks'
|
[ WP ] A depressing man 's life narrated by his loving and loyal dog .
| I do n't understand this thing. He, I assume it's male because he does n't crouch to pee, does n't seem to get any joy out of life. He wakes up at ungodly hours. Well before the sun rises. When he does he almost always makes his way to the rain box. Why these things keep boxes that make rain in their homes I'll never understand.
He soaks himself in the rain box washing off all of his smells. How anyone recognizes him is a mystery. When he's finished he sometimes cuts off all of his coat excepting that on top of his head. During this he moans and groans. It must hurt very badly. When he finishes this he makes his way to the place with my food bowl. Lucky he always remembers to open those stupid tin cans and leave the contents for me. Again, something else I do n't understand. Why put my food in this thing I ca n't get into no matter how hard I try. After supplying his master with food he feeds himself some strange, unappetizing meal. Usually stinky black liquid and mushy flowers.
Then he leaves. Where he goes I'm not really sure. Why he would want to leave this place when he could spend the day sleeping with me I'll never figure out. He's gone for what seems like days. But when he returns I get the best part of my day. He picks up the rope thing and takes me to roam my kingdom. I love to visit my people. My favorite part is trying to catch the little things he calls squirrles. He always yells at me but they are so intriguing. He's always so unhappy. I think he may be constipated because while I always find some wonderful place to poop he never does.
Once we return home he makes us both food. His always smells so good but he rarely shares. I think that's part of his depression. When were done he usually sits in front of the light box. It feels like he sits there forever and I usually sleep. When he decides he's finished he always wakes me up to come sleep with him
Why he ca n't just let me sleep I do n't understand
I never make him come sleep with me.
Whatever the reason he seems happy that I'm there and if I can bring just a little happiness to his world then I guess I should. After all, he seems so depressed and he serves well. I wish he would pull himself out of this funk and just chase the ball a bit. Maybe chew the couch. I guess we ca n't all be as happy as I am.
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[ WP ] `` You ... Do know I 'm about to kill you , right ? '' A serial killer 's latest victim does n't seem to understand the gravity of the situation .
| *I can ’ t believe how well this date is going! * Stacy thinks to herself as Cliff walks around the dark, non-descript panel van after letting her into the passenger seat. *First dates never go this well, especially ones from CraigsList! *
Cliff had picked her up an hour before at her apartment and taken her to a food truck downtown. They had eaten hot dogs while walking around and chatting. Cliff wasn ’ t all that talkative, but Stacy really appreciated his ability to listen.
Playing coy when he climbed in beside her, Stacy looks over and smiles shyly “ Thanks for tonight. I've had a really great time, even if I did wear the wrong shoes for this kind of date. You should have told me your plans! I ’ m way overdressed for this. I mean, who would have thought about hot dogs for a first date, anyway? I ’ ll be honest, at first I couldn ’ t decide if it was really clever or really cheap. You know how awful first dates can be, right, and I was like, well, this must be his, um, you know, like, test or whatever. Like if I don ’ t freak about the hot dog then I get to go on the real date. But then, the longer it went on, I really started to think about it and I realized that no, this is the date, and then how unique and special it is. I ’ ve never had a first date like this before. I ’ ll always remember it. And just think, if we work out, what a great story we ’ ll have to tell our grandkids! ” Stacy laughed, high and breathy, as she played with her necklace at just the right height to draw Cliff ’ s attention to her cleavage.
Stacy ’ s breath catches at the look on Cliff ’ s face as he turns to her. *He ’ s going to kiss me*, Stacy thinks. She ’ s ready. She leans forward and licks her lips. Cliff reaches out and gently strokes her cheek, looking in her eyes the whole time.
“ You have the most amazing skin. I will love adding it to my collection, ” Cliff says softly as he pushes the button to lock the doors. “ Do you remember me telling you that I like games? ”
Nodding slowly, Stacy can ’ t seem to look away from Cliff ’ s engaging eyes. *Does that mean bedroom games? I mean, like Fifty Shades of Gray games?! I want to learn to play those games! *
“ Good, girl ” he replies, knowing exactly what she ’ s thinking and letting her believe what she wants. “ Close your eyes, now. ”
She complies immediately, and senses him getting up and moving around the van behind her.
Suddenly realizing that she ’ s maybe not so ready for this as she thought, Stacy starts to talk nervously. “ Did I tell you about these shoes? I bought them for my wedding night. I told you about my wedding disaster, right? God, I dodged a bullet by not marrying him! Anyway, my outfit for after the reception was this great shirt dress, cute and classy, navy blue with little white polka dots. I had matching luggage for the honeymoon, too. And when I saw these shoes I knew I had to have them! Retro Mary Jane ’ s are so in right now. I take every opportunity to wear them that I can. Although, I wasn ’ t expecting to walk as much as we did tonight. And I ’ m not sure if I ’ ll ever get that brown stuff off them from when we walked through that alley. ” She ends with a nervous laugh.
During her speech, Cliff moved up behind her and ran his hands down her arms and gripping her wrists, moved her hands back behind the seat where he secured them with rope.
Not wanting to seem eager and trying to hide how excited she is by the situation, Stacy continues. “ My best friend Angela, well, my ex-best friend, I guess, was with me when I found the shoes. She did everything she could to ruin my wedding. I mean, I tried to be laid back and let my bridesmaids choose their own dresses. I clearly said that my colors were teal and blush and that they should chose something in one of those. That ’ s not too much to ask. I mean, I wasn ’ t a Bridezilla or anything. That is completely reasonable, right? So, the night before the wedding, we ’ re all in my suite at the hotel and I ’ m looking over everyone ’ s dresses and they all look fantastic, right? Beth lost 50 pounds and looks better than when we were in college; Jessica married up and her husband bought her new tits; Heather got this great tan on vacation in Jamaica. Seriously, everyone looked fantastic. And then, fucking Angela comes out in her dress. She ’ s supposed to be standing next to me tomorrow, ready to support me, help me celebrate the happiest day of my life so far, right? And that bitch stepped out wearing a turquoise dress. Fucking turquoise of all colors! I mean, really. Teal IS NOT turquoise! ”
Cliff is totally baffled. He ’ s done this a handful of times, and the women always get nervous when they see his van. This chick didn ’ t even pause. He thought the Last Supper was laughably comical, and knows that he will hate never being able to share this darkly funny tale with anyone else. It ’ s not like there are meetings for serial killers to talk about job hazards and how to deal with things when they don ’ t go as planned. Tonight was not going as planned. He ’ d never heard so much about one person ’ s life in two hours before. This woman has no filter and no concept of privacy. The only thing she hadn ’ t managed to overshare about was her bathroom habits, and that was probably just because they weren ’ t anywhere there was plumbing!
“ Um, Stacy? You do know what ’ s going on here, right? ”
“ Well, yeah, Cliff. You want to be my Dom! ”
“ Uh, no. Not exactly. I ’ m going to kill you. ”
“ Oh! Knife play! Fantastic! ”
“ No, Stacy. Not play. ”
“ Right. Absolutely. I understand that this is serious. ”
“ I usually ask if there ’ s anything my victims want to say before we begin, but I ’ m not sure if I want to give you that opportunity. ”
“ As long as your bedroom or dungeon or whatever isn ’ t done in turquoise, I ’ m fine! ”
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[ WP ] A parent tries to show to a kid the beauty of life in times of war
| `` Mishka.'' Hearing mother's voice was like sinking your teeth into an apple. Honey-sweetened tones that danced from her lips, crisp and cool with an acidic tinge of authority that could wake you from any lull or slumber. Acidic enough to melt the muscle from father's shoulders, turn his bones to gelatine should she raise her voice just enough.
`` Mishka, it is a time to be quite.''
She spoke softly now, which seemed straining for her. I could see her wince on occasion when she accidentally spoke as she once did, with her true voice. Catching the word, pulling it back with the tip of her tongue and sealing it by pursing her lips. She held it there, against her teeth, until the urge to speak subsided. Until I could see the small bubble of a word slide back down her throat, disappearing somewhere in her chest. There was a fear in her -- of her voice.
The men above us would play pretend games sometimes. These were the times mother was most quite.
`` Policía,'' the man yelled, pushing on the broken latch of our front door. There was a smile to his voice, though I've never seen his face.
The door creaked open, dangling on it's single hinge. `` We're only here to talk to you,'' he called. The empty furniture in the room did not return his call. Mother had me against her chest. Her warm hand covered my mouth.
`` The bureau'' the man had said, entering our home on a different day. `` We've word of your husband. Please, we only wish to relay some information.''
Mother must have noticed the tension in my knees, the urge to get up from the ground and look at the man through the floorboards. Her head swayed, side to side. The muscles in her face pulled on her cheekbones.
`` A storyteller,'' she whispered in my ear. `` He's only here to tell stories... and to play terrible games.''
The boards creaked. It was hard to tell where he was at any moment because his footsteps made no sound. Only the entire floor creaked, all at once.
`` Please. I do not know how much longer the poor man has,'' the man called out. Mother winced. I could see her lips tighten, a word being swallowed.
`` Fine. Fuck it, you bitch,'' he said. There was a crash as the wood of our coffee table splintered against a wall. `` I fucking tried to do it the easy way.''
Another slam, followed by a cloud of dust that poured in from above us. Mother wrapped her shawl over my face, so I would not breath it in.
Light poured into the living room. The door was kicked in, no longer hanging by its single hinge.
`` He left,'' I mumbled. `` Can we go up now?''
`` Not yet,'' she said, still covering me. We waited until she heard the rumble of an engine come to life, and slowly disappear into the distance. She then waited a moment longer. `` He might be playing his games.''
It was in between these moments that she taught me the lessons. When we could go into the rest of the house and paint whatever we wanted.
I liked to start in the kitchen, because it was the most simple room in the house. Copper kettles and brass utensils hung from hooks beneath the cabinets. Green light flooded in from the sun-lit fields outside, but the wood was so gnarled and dusty that it could not reflect any of it.
`` What would you like to paint, Mishka?'' She asked speaking in a voice just between her true voice and the quiet, soft voice that hurt her. She wore a smile, but her lips seemed crooked. Bent. As if she had needed a to hammer them by force into the correct shape.
`` A Paris café,'' I told her. I had only seen one in a movie, but I told her that it was what I always wanted.
When father returns. When the war is over.
`` Then, we can open up our own café,'' she would tell me.
Now, she placed her fingers on the nape of my neck and closed her eyes. `` Paint us a beautiful café,'' she said.
I closed my eyes and thought about crépes covering porecelain dishes, vibrant fruits in crystal bowls and dark, red bricks lining the walls. The smell of fresh coffee. The sizzle of butter and sausages in our copper pots.
We opened our eyes together and it was all before us. Painted over our dark kitchen was the dream behind my eyes. Mother knelt down to my level and pulled my cheek against her lips.
`` You always paint the same one, Mishka!'' she laughed.
`` I like it,'' I responded.
The floorboards creaked in the living room and mother snapped towards the back door of the kitchen, trying to escape. The paintings in the kithen vanished instantly.
The creaking sped up and suddenly my mother pushed us both into the corner of the kitchen and held the back of my neck, pulling me into her chest to hush me.
I could hear the man enter the room. The air sung with electricity.
`` I know you are here!'' he yelled. `` I saw it. The girl is here.''
I dared not move while my mother held me so tight, but I wanted to see the man.
I could hear cabinet doors open, and then slam shut.
`` Fuck,'' he growled. He spoke the way my mother did, as if he was suppressing a *true* voice. As if there was more he wanted to say, but was afraid of letting the words fill the room.
`` I can feel you in this house. In this room!'' He paced around the island in the center of the kitchen, sliding the door of it open and closed. `` You will show yourselves!
`` You will obey me!'' There was a click, followed by thunder. Wood chips and porcelain rained against the floor. `` I am the police.''
Another burst of thunder. Glass shattered. `` I am the new bureau. I am the military. The justice.
`` I fucking own this city. The girl belongs to me.''
Glass and wood chips poured against the back of my neck. Mother pulled me in tighter.
`` You want to keep playing these games? Fine!''
He began to laugh. His true voice. He was happy in his anger.
`` I'm also the fire department.'' I heard the boards in the living room creaking again as he walked out the front door.
It was only a few moments later that I smelled the fumes.
`` Gasoline,'' my mother gasped.
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[ WP ] On the verge of losing an intergalactic war , a malevolent alien race decides to unleash their doomsday weapon , humanity .
| An eternal war, fathomless in loss and gains. We have used all weapons at our disposal, save for one. In every war there is a limit to the horrors you can unleash, but is victory worth this? 6 eons ago, my forefathers forefather planted the seeds of life on a hostile backplanet on the ass end of subspace 16-3. A poisonous yellow sun to nourish an oxidized carbon planet. All conventional science said nothing would grow. Yet, in my desperation I look now to what the dominant species calls `` Earth'', and the horrors I find there make me shudder. They are short lived, barely making a cycle before dying, yet they breed and multiply like none others. They have skeletal structures as hard as much of our armor plating, and skin that absorbs yellow radiation to very little effect. Although their minds are primitive by our standards, they have harnessed the atom, and produce more weapons than even my mind can adequately fathom. They are still contained to one solar system, though they have already begun to spread to other planets. It seems the harsh radiation has not killed them, but nourishes them. The first few subjects we brought in show that this species is horribly strong, sentient, and capable of terrible destruction. In my most desperate moment, how could i not weaponize this species? These Humans seem to have bred themselves for destruction. If we hope to have any chance to survive this war, we must unleash them.
|
[ WP ] Two characters played by the same actor meet in a bar .
| `` What *is* it, Precious? It's hairy, it is, and big enough to swallow poor Gollum.'' The scrawny little creature once known as Smeagol peeked his head out the mouth of the cave. Something was roaming nearby, something he did not recognize. Was it a threat? Or was it food?
Gollum would find out.
Outside of the cave, it was pitch black, a gloomy moonless night. He shambled down the path toward the sound of light and noise. `` No catching fishes tonight, tonight we dines on fresh meats!''
Ahead loomed a large tent, full of lights and shouting and the clinking of glassware. More interesting was the thing behind the tent, looming in the dark: a blurry, indistinct, wiggling mass. Perhaps a store tent for livestock? In any case, a potential source of juicy sweet raw meat for Gollum.
As he approached the mass, it became more defined, but also seemingly larger. It towered over Gollum, and it was black and shifted in the dim light. Gollum crept closer to inspect it. Suddenly something swung down out of the sky and pulverized poor Gollum into the dirt.
[ King ] Kong wiped the gooey mess off of his palm and snorted. Another pest swatted. He went back to sleep.
|
[ WP ] Magic has finally been discovered through science . But spells can only be cast in certain languages . Programming Code . Depict a battle between two spell slinging and code calling Wizards .
| *The dreamer does n't know he's dreaming till after the fact. *
I sat hunched over a screen preparing for the duel, folders within folders held various versions of similarly formed walls of text. The difficulty was picking the ones I'd use. My opponent was well known for their command of lightning. It was n't hard to generate lightning but channelling was no easy feat. Magic may be able to alter the way the world works but everything else still interacts with it all the same.
I called up the code for generating extreme levels of cold. By slowing the vibration of a set target you can create a loss in energy that translates in real talk to `` it gets cold, fast''. Moisture in the air would freeze forming ice, and a quick Google search ( pays to be sure ) confirms my thought that ice was not conductive. That should allow me to form a defence against an attack that travels faster than I can react. I will form a barrier immediately and attack from within.
I put on the glove that would form the medium for my magic. The old idea of wands and staffs was thrown out in favour of these gloves known as `` RHacks''. By pointing with a finger you could designate a target, similarly expanding your hand would designate a plain immediately in front of you. Most importantly there was a screen on the back of the hand that allowed you to input the number related to the spell you would use. This quick access to a catalogue of pre-prepared spells made you a versatile and responsive combatant.
`` Enough thinking to yourself Sam, be confident, you got this.'' I proclaimed my resolve to myself.
I walked down the long tunnel and into the roar of the crowd. The stadium could house fifty thousand spectators and not a seat was empty. Great billboards plastered my face across a space larger than my house. `` Not nervous nope, i'm fineeeee'' My voice lost in the crowd.
He stood across from me, maybe 20 meters away. Dressed similar to myself in a dark red uniform that was provided to us. Though unlike me he wore various medals, trophies from past victories. The lightning Emperor, his eyes fixed on mine he raised his arm and pointed it at me. As the announcers began the countdown the crowd grew silent.
**Five**
I stood, contemplating dropping into a fighting stance electing to simply cross my hands over in front of me, fingers poised to type.
**Four**
His smirk evident from here, he's confident.
**Three**
I steady my breathing, *001* I'll type it the moment it begins.
**TWO**
Do n't fuck this up
**ONE**
Do n't fuck this up
**BEGIN**
At once i tapped the code in *001 `` Ice mist'' * and cantered on myself I was surrounded in floating droplets of solid ice. The trick was fixing the X/Y co-ords of the ice so it didn ’ t simply drop to the ground after forming.
As planned lightning splashed across the ice, refracting light and casting rainbows in a wide arc across the audience, cheers erupting from them.
**The challenger has found a way to nullify the trademark `` Bolt-Rush'' of the lightning Emperor, what will happen next? **
Ugh cheesy my mind protested as I put in the next spell. *015* A chunk of ice from over my shoulder compressed and fired at my opponent rushing at his head.
**CRACK**
Deflected by a strong gust of wind it instead careened to the stands to break on the clear protective covering. Lightning rushed myself from every direction, weaker than the first bolt he was simply testing the coverage of my wall. I recast *001* refreshing its protection.
**CRACKOOM**
A bolt erupted from above blinding me I felt heat, rain, no melting ice dripping on me from above.
**AN EXPLOSIVE COUNTER ATTACK**
*001*
**CRACKOOM**
This is n't working! I panicked covering my eyes. I'm on the back foot. *008* Pointing at the ground below me I turned it to liquid and taking a deep breath sank immediately into the floor. The ground should dissipate the shock and stop him targeting me. *007* I sent a pulse through the ground creating a tunnel of force to erupt at his location, but with no way of confirming the hit I remained submerged.
*002* *003*
I altered my X axis co-ords appearing 15 meters in the air and fixed that position in space. Essentially teleporting into the air above my hiding space and remaining suspended there.
*001*
Lightning splashed over my ice wall as I spotted my opponent stood atop a platform of billowing wind, he used the rotating air currents to support his weight. Is this guy insane or what?
*078*
All the ice rushed to my front, as predicted a great lightning bolt collided with it, my opponent looking to end the match in that hit had been foiled by a double thick layer of protection.
**The challenger survives yet another of the Emperors Raijin-Blasts**
*127*
The wall of ice rushed toward my opponent and he readied to buffet away with his wind magic. At the last second I tapped in *128* and the ice wall broke into hundreds of fragments, the wind knocking away most a good 20 % collided with his form.
My mind celebrated only to be shocked into silence by yet more lightning. In my excitement I failed to re-erect my barrier and my focus broken by the sneak attack I plummeted towards the ground.
The thud was heard by all watching, the bone shattering crack, only me. My ribs were busted and my arm broken. I'm sure the lightning emperor was wounded, but still in this fight. As if to confirm my theory it rang out signalling the end of our duel.
**CRACKOOM**
The crowd was once again roaring `` LIGHTNING, LIGHTNING, LIGHTNING''
**The challenger from the amateur brackets is eliminated, the Emperor rains supreme! **
I ripped off the headset in frustration, tossing it onto my bed across the room and sinking into my chair. If I had n't lost focus, I was ahead. All it took was one hit, damn him! No, it's not his fault. It's mine, I need to get better. At least my body is okay, only my avatar would have to be in hospital, but I shuddered at the pain. It felt so real.
|
[ WP ] A personal , omnipotent God decides to finally prove His existence to humanity , but nobody cares .
| I had decided to delay going back to earth until after they had cut out that whole business of taking those who claimed to be me and nailing them on giant wooden t's until their eventual painful and gruesome death. No, I was not a fan of that. Those morons did n't even stop to consider I might be telling the truth!
But this time things would be different. After an industrial and technological revolution they had developed laws of physics, and had even thought to write them down. Surely after breaking a couple of those they would recognize who am. For my sake, the average guy in the ol' BC-AD grey area would take a half decent actor pretending to be `` cleansed of a spirt'' as a miracle. Surely evolution, my grand design, had kicked in and made these people smart enough to distinguish between real miracles and fake ones.
So I had an intern set me a course for earth in the 21st century. I was sent to what was deemed as this times *promised land* ( highest religious persons per capita ) Mississippi, USA. Off to a good start apparently even the virgin birth gained a great deal of exposure this time around on the Maury Povich program.
Once again surrounding myself with the religious in this new life I grew up with baptists until such a time where I felt I should reveal myself as the messiah. However my classic first miracle did not go over well. They amazed by transformation of water into wine so much as they were shocked someone would bring wine to a baptist wedding. It seems that since my last visit alcohol has become a no no. Not entirely sure why. Guess its gone the way of seafood and pork. A shame.
From then on I tried to preserver. I told as many people as I could about who I was and my mission. It seemed they were on their own mission; to desperately avoid making eye contact with me. This continuing trend continued to eat away at my psyche until I was doing little more than shouting nonsense in the street. It was around this time the televangelist networks became interested.
Finally I had a venue in which to show myself, to prove who I was to everyone and finish the work I had started in Israel 2000 years earlier. But alas the miracles I preformed on television were not taken at face value. Indeed I thought the crucifixion was bad, but the constant calls of fake, CGI, Criss Angel-esk and liar hurt like the nails. And much like being hung out on the cross when the TV world was done with me I was left out to starve and die, only this time the dry mouth did n't come from a lack of liquids, but an incessant meth addiction. No the world was not ready for me yet, perhaps I will return in another 2000 years
|
[ WP ] Try your best to convince your therapist that you are a potato .
| So you chose psychology because you wanted to help people?
-Yes, I did.
And that's what you're trying to do now?
-Yes. And I think we're making great progress Andrew.
Yes we are.
-Yes
Yes.
-Yes.
-So, why is it important that we clarify our goals?
Because the posts have moved.
-In what way?
The other way.
-No, how have they moved? What caused them to move?
You're the psychic, you tell me.
-Pschotherapist
Psycho
-therapist
-Do you trust me Andrew?
Of course.
-Do you think I'm helping you?
With what?
-Your.. life.
Not right now you aint. It's fairly hostile out in the air.
-And that's why you want to.. change course. Because I'm not helping you.
No, I want to change course to one in which I'm helping you.
-Be a better therapist?
No, to go see your therapist.
-Because?
Because you're talking to a potato like it's the most natural thing in the world.
-Andrew... Have you been taking your Exoterra?
No, you ran out.
-OK. I need you to be honest with me. Have you been taking your meds?
No, you have n't.
-Andrew, please. It's important that we're serious here. Have you taken your medication as, as we planned.
No, you planned.
-OK. But you have to partner with me by sticking to the plan..
You threw the plan out the window when you wanted to go out drinking five days ago and you went and got all fucked up and now you have the fridge door open and you have no idea why you're holding an egg in one hand and why the potato in the your other hand is questioning your abilities to imitate your therapist and how she makes you feel when you go out drinking and neglect your meds because you do n't like vomiting and you come home with random guys at all hours of the night nearly burning the house down because you try to make fries and get confused about which way up the liquid drops.
By the way I'm a potato.
-Wow, I'm totally convinced that you are telling the truth right now.
|
[ WP ] Those that are sent to Hell are given the opportunity to attempt `` hopping the fence '' into Heaven . Write a day in the life of an officer of Heaven 's Border Patrol .
| I was standing on a cloud. The air was warm and dry. A man, covered in dirt, soot, and tears, rushed towards me. He was my first. You never forget the first. The last thing I remember was shooting him with that magical bow, and the look in his eyes as he stared at me. I saw my reflection in his eyes. I was betraying my brother.
And now I'm in God's waiting room. He is reasonable, so He lets anybody schedule an appointment. He has no secretary. Nobody goes into His office besides Him and the person who wanted the appointment.
A lady walks out, smiling from ear to ear. She was crying.
`` Just like I always dreamt...'' she whispered.
It was my turn. I walked into the office. The only thing inside was a light, a bright light. It's like a small sun, burning right there in the room with me. `` You wanted an appointment?''
The voice is welcoming, friendly.
`` Uh, yes, sir.''
`` What did you want to ask me about?''
For a moment I faltered. I had n't really thought of a question. I did n't even know exactly why I'd come to see Him. I fidget, and finger the cross around my neck. I take it off and hold it, staring at the crucified man wailing in pain.
`` I was patrolling the border today,'' I said. `` And for the first time, I shot a man. He was scared. I shot him.''
`` I know,'' He replied. `` What you did was a good thing. Were n't you told what the bows do?'' I shook my head. `` When hit by one of those magical arrows, the soul you struck will be returned to Earth as a baby. They'll get another chance. Do you understand?''
It seems unfair to me, that those who try to better their lot get a second chance while those who accept their sins burn. I nod. `` Keep up the good work.''
I spend a lot more time guarding the border. This morning, I had 323 returns. We call people you hit with the magical arrows returns. I was getting my bow, happy as ever, when a new guy stumbled in. He looked scared, sad. I had seen that face before. He had seen mine.
Immediately I put down my bow and left before anybody could ask what I was doing. I went straight to God's office. It was Sunday, so He would be no doubt collecting the prayers of humanity. His son would be standing in for him.
I approach the door. Nobody is waiting. I hear two voices inside. Neither one is God.
`` We've got a good thing going here, and it's only getting better! I got ta tell you, Satan, this is your best plan yet!'' My stomach drops like a stone.
`` Of course it is,'' Satan's voice shreds my mind like a lawn mower. `` He can not stop me here. I control the illusion. I control them. Every day he sends more souls to free them, and every day we add them into our ranks.''
`` I know, boss! Soon we'll have, like, *every* soul down here! High-five!'' Unsurprisingly, I do n't hear two hands smack together. Satan laughs, and suddenly stops. I hear him walk towards the door.
`` I know you're out there, come on in.'' I reach for my cross, the one I keep around my neck. The only thing that can stop the Devil. The only step between me and whatever lurks on the other side of that door. My hand touches bare skin.
I'd forgotten it in God's office.
|
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