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[ WP ] You are the only human on Earth who can literally kill people with kindness . Every time you do something kind to others , they die afterwards .
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Jesus, welcome to my world.
My mother was dying from cancer when I was 12. Abandoned by every adult, she put me in charge of her medications. I only wanted to help. She died the next morning.
6 months later I told my father how happy I was that he was doing something good for himself, though he abandoned our sick mother. He'd been pretty selfish, but I only wanted to help. A few hours later he died of a heart attack from a heroine overdose.
I lived with my brother after that. My brother refused to send me to a military school out of guilt. I did everything possible to be invisible. I only wanted to help. A couple of months later, his husband died drinking himself to death because my brother chose me over him.
My brother fell into a deep alcoholic depression. I knew I could n't be his burden any longer. I went back to my home town to live with friends of the family as their adoptive son. I had my best friend from elementary in my corner helping me. Dropping me off before church, he is side-swiped by a truck. I see the life fade from him. This is labeled by everyone in a God-fearing small town as my fault.
I only wanted to help.
Years have gone by. I'm 30 now. The friends I've made, the family I've built...
It does n't matter. They'v moved forward with their lives.
I only wanted to help.
( A true story )
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[ WP ] God wakes up one day , and finds Lucifer bruised and battered on his doorstep , saying , `` I fucked shit up '' , then collapsing .
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***::THIS IS KNOWN. PLEASE MIND YOUR LANGUAGE, SON::***
I gaped. Somehow the love that He has for even Lucifer managed to come through that sould-searing *voice* as well as His disapproval. What? Oh me? I'm nobody. A lesser cherub with no real importance. Junior assistant to Metatron, serving *Him* ( no, not Metatron, the big guy, you know... *HIM* ). My name? Hardly important, but just so you know, I'm Daniel. I occasionally stand guard to the Throne itself, but usually I stand at the door.
Lucifer squirmed a bit under His gaze, clearly in pain. Hardly new in most ways, but most of his pain is metaphysical, psychic and spiritual, not truly physical. But to see a spirt torn like that is disconcerting. Spirits do n't really bleed, mind, but Lucifer was doing a good job imitating it.
Finally he rasped out, `` Please help me, Father! This is more important than our disagreements!''
***::THAT IS ALSO KNOWN. ARE YOU READY TO ADMIT YOUR PRIDE? TO RETURN TO ME?::***
Lucifer, though known to lie, did n't make the mistake of trying to lie in His presence. `` Of course not. But, can we call a truce?''
***::THE WAR WAS EVER YOUR DOING, NOT MINE. YOU WERE ALWAYS FREE TO LEAVE.::***
`` Oh yes, leave. You made a paradise then tell me I can *leave*! Then I do the things I've seen you do, and you punished me for it! How is that freedom!?'' I watched as Lucifer raged, apparently forgetting his injury for a moment. You'll notice that I did not get involved. When the elephant decides to fight the earth itself, the mouse wisely does not draw attention to itself. This is one of those times. Lucifer may have been cast down, but before that he was... well.
Son of the Morning. It's an odd term. In truth, it's really a double description. He was one of the first. The best, the brightest, and quite often the most loved by those of us that followed. It's also a description of his potential to ascend nearly to the throne. Even now, despite his fall, he is admitted closely to the Throne, just because of who he once as. Of course, having fallen, he can not come directly into His presence. That is n't done. Letting one of the fallen into His presence? No.
***::TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE DONE::***
`` You know! You already said that!'' Lucifer rages some more, but after a minute he realizes that He is n't going to answer the raging accusations. That's not His way. We all know that, the angels, seraphim and cherubim. Even the fallen know. `` Fine! It's the humans, they've gone too far with the atomic science!''
***::AND WHY IS THIS YOUR FAULT?::***
Lucifer sighs, but I can tell he is feeling better. That's the nature of His presence. Even when you are just *close*, it heals and makes everything better. `` I gave them the basics, back in the Great Wars. I showed them how to split the atom! But they've moved further! They've learned how to summon spirits! How a spirit is vulnerable at the quantum levels! And they... they are out to destroy me! With knowledge that *I* gave them!''
***::MY SON. YOU KNOW THAT ALL KNOWLEDGE COMES THROUGH MY INFLUENCE, DO YOU NOT?::***
`` You say that! But I taught them!''
***::NO. I ALLOWED THEM TO LEARN IT. AS I ALLOW YOU TO WHISPER IT. EVEN NOW YOU AND THEY HAVE THEIR AGENCY. BUT NO LEARNING HAPPENS SAVE THROUGH MY LIGHT. YOU KNOW THIS.::***
`` Whatever! They've learned to *hurt* spirits! How can you allow that? Even with your stupid freedom, how can you allow them this knowledge!''
***::IT IS NECESSARY::***
`` What? How can it be necessary! What are you trying to do?''
***::MY SON, WE HAVE DISCUSSED THIS. MORTALS HAVE FREEDOM SO THEY CAN LEARN. THEY LEARN SO THEY CAN BECOME MORE LIKE ME. I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID THEY WOULD INHERIT MY KINGDOM.::***
I suppose I should pause there. Satan's response is n't worth writing. Big deal, you say, that mortals learned to damage a spirit. It is a big deal. Look, contrary to popular belief, cherubim are n't cute and fluffy angels of love. We're guards. We guard the Throne of God. If you can extend your logic just a bit, you'll realize that you only have guards when there is a threat. Which should tell you that there is something out there that God wants to be guarded against. Not that he ca n't protect himself, but we are to warn against a potential threat. And to keep out those that, like Lucifer, are n't allowed to enter into the Throne. But yes, there are threats against even the Throne of Heaven.
I should also point out that the big threats are n't Lucifer. He's never been a threat directly to God. No, he just convinces mortals to do things that mean they wo n't come into this realm.
Back to the conversation, Lucifer raged at Him for a few moments, then finally settled. `` So you wo n't do anything about this?''
***::NO. BUT WHY DO N'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THE OTHER PROBLEM YOU HAVE CREATED? THE ONE THAT IS AN ACTUAL THREAT.::***
That brought us both up a bit short. There was something new in His voice. Almost like genuine concern. I'd never heard that in His voice before. Lucifer apparently had n't either, but instead of his usual sly looks and debonaire attitude, he faltered. This was something big, or so it seemed.
`` I'm not certain what...''
***::ENOUGH. I WILL TELL YOU, THIS ONCE ONLY. IT IS NOT THAT THEY DAMAGED YOU DIRECTLY THAT IS A THREAT, BUT THAT THEY HAVE SUMMONED ONE OF THE ^PREVIOUS.::***
It was clearly a title. Something different. Put I had no idea what. Lucifer, though, apparently did. `` Are you certain?''
***::I AM NOT KNOWN FOR MY PRACTICAL JOKES.::***
`` You should be, with the way the earth is going!'' Lucifer said it flippantly, but I could hear fear -- real, genuine, actual, fear -- in his voice. That's a first. Even when going up against Him in his little personal crusade, Lucifer was fearless. Of course, it is easy to be fearless when you know the other side will not kill you, no matter the provocation. Lucifer continued, `` A ***PREVIOUS***? Is that even possible?''
***::OF COURSE. IT IS ALSO QUITE DIRE.::***
`` So what are you going to do about it?''
***::WHAT IS ALWAYS DONE WITH AN ERRANT CHILD MAKES AN ERROR BEYOND THEIR ABILITY TO CORRECT. I WILL MAKE YOU DEAL WITH IT ONCE YOU HAVE THE TOOLS TO DO SO. TAKE THIS CHERUB, HE WILL GUIDE YOU TO THE TREE OF POWER. THERE, YOU WILL OBTAIN MEANS TO FIGHT THE ^PREVIOUS. THEN YOU WILL GO BACK TO EARTH AND THERE YOU WILL ENGAGE THE CREATURE. DO THIS, AND I WILL FORGIVE YOU ALL YOUR ERRORS.: ***
I gasped. I was n't sure what this creature they were talking about was, but it sounded bad. Also, the Tree of Power had been hidden from all the heavenly hosts since the Creation. But as He spoke, its location filled my mind. Lucifer bowed himself to the ground, then said, `` You would forgive me even now?''
That was a new tone too. Almost eager. Like... like he'd believed his own lies that it was possible to get to the point where He would no longer forgive.
***::OF COURSE.::***
Lucifer stood then, turned to me, and said, `` All right, Daniel, we go. Lead me on.''
I nodded, and we stepped from the Threshold to the Throne of Heaven and began our journey. As we did, I asked Lucifer. `` What is a Previous?''
He shook his head. `` One of the ones that came before Him. Dangerous, old, and utterly insane. They will eat the very atoms that make up the universe. They call me Leviathan, but these are the true Leviathans. The true dreadnoughts. And they hate us all. Pray to Him that we succeed, or all creation will fall.''
I prayed as I never had before, then. And hoped we would succeed.
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[ WP ] Write a story about leaving your past behind .
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I play the haunting melody of temporary being;
my fingers dance with the piano keys.
Music flows from them like silken skirts
hovering over the ballroom floor.
Thousands have paid to hear me play, but
the ballroom's empty now, with only my song to fill it.
The music skips from one side to the other, my
fingers—the keys—moving faster and faster,
dancing, and leaping higher and higher until—
Your voice.
It sang the same way that
your green-blue eyes sparked,
as smooth and fluid as the golden
curls cascading down your back.
But it does not come.
My notes begin again,
slower now.
The song changes
from majestic major,
to aching minor.
Your music danced with mine in this hall.
Yours was the happy song: it played in
your laughter at my stupid jokes, in
the way you held my hand and met my eyes
on the day we said I do in this very hall.
It sang in that smile when we first got
the news and the week you lost your
golden curls; that quiet,
sad, smile that said
we're hurt, but
we'll be ok.
My hand slams down.
I am not *ok.* They tell me to play, play, *play* --
Play Mozart, play Beethoven, play *Bach* --
But *how* can I play when my song is your song is our song is --
Dead.
My fingers stumble on keys.
The devil's cord.
Music hangs in the air,
dragging
across the hard floor.
But it still moves,
and the notes rise,
and the song that swells around me,
fading in the distance,
that song is you, with me again.
and the music's your laughter echoing
through the hall and the notes almost form
that smile that tells me I ’ ll be ok, because you dance
upon the music, your skirts swirl around my feet, you take away
the emptiness that lingers in quiet.
I play until it hurts; it's not real if it does n't hurt.
But I ca n't play forever.
My aching fingers come
to a trembling stop.
Time holds it breath;
the only movement is the last echoes of our song
as it flies beyond my mortal hands
And leaves behind a whisper
in the silence...
“ You'll be ok. ”
But the music ends.
The whisper fades.
I sit upon my bench
in silence.
I slide the piano lid
over the keys again.
Its soft thump sounds
like the lid of a coffin
as it falls into place.
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[ WP ] You are a young Jesus and you wake up after a massive party to find out that in a blackout you turned the world 's oceans into wine .
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The sprawled and sprightly forms of my party-goers lay scattered on the carpet of my flat. Below me raged an ocean of blood. A sickening sun snaked its tendrils over the line of the horizon. A massive crowd thronged the beach, with many wading into the red waves. It was a strange sight, seeing people drink from the ocean and enjoy it.
Already, bodies sailed the gentle ridges of the waves. Men and women frantically sucked at the water, their bodies soiling with crimson as their children pulled at their clothes. I surveyed the army of drunkards below, knowing that I had fortuitously committed murder in the midst of my youthful play. I had forsaken the directives of my father and all things right in the world.
But as I saw the dregs of society succumb to their demons, cleansing humanity of those that weighed them down, I pondered. I flicked my wrist and conjured a goblet overflowing with wine.
My purpose was to save humanity from their sin. I sipped at the blood-colored wine, looking across the waters at the ill-colored sun.
Perhaps it would be easiest to kill sin with sin.
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[ WP ] With the use of a jump rope , make me sad !
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Pink.
It was always pink for Phoebe Long.
Pink dresses. Pink dolls and pink shoes - these were the things that made little Phoebe feel good. She was at the height of suburban living, which means that she would be incomplete without a pink bike with which to travel to and fro throughout the neighborhood. It was July, and the summer heat had thus far done nothing to stop nine-year-old Phoebe from conquering the known and unknown universe. Coins jangled in her pocket as a defense mechanism should the ice cream truck spring an attack, but something else would be worth her while today. As she coasted down the asphalt, the heat bearing down on her neck, something caught her attention.
A garage sale at Stanley G's house.
A pink jump rope in center display - fifty cents.
Phoebe Long stopped in her tracks, put her kickstand up, and headed straight towards the jump rope. Fate, however, had other plans for her.
`` Phoebe! ``, a small boy's voice whispered from the side of the house. `` C'mere!''
Stanley G was looking tired and miserable, and for a summer Saturday, he sure as hell could have been having more fun. Phoebe cast a fleeting look at the jump rope and scuttled over to the young boy.
`` Make it quick, Stanley,'' she says curtly. `` I got stuff to do.''
`` Please, my Ma's making me help her and I ca n't take it anymore! Tell her you want a play date, please!'' Stanley was on the verge of tears, but Phoebe was not easily persuaded.
`` Last week you were smearing chocolate on my dress, and now you're asking for my help. Why would I want a play date with you? ``, Phoebe asked curtly.
`` Look - do you want my sister's jump rope? I saw you looking at it. You can have it. Just try to help me out, please''.
Okay. Even if Stanley G was a pretty mean boy, and even if Phoebe had seen him pick his nose and eat it once, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A free, pink freaking jump rope. She sighs and puts her hands on her hips. `` Alright,'' she warns, `` But no funny business. I'll tell your ma what you and Jimmy did to the cat behind the playground last week''. And with that, she takes a dignified strut over to Stanley's mother, and says pleadingly that please miss Stanley's my only friend and my Momma might die if I do n't look happy so really for the sake of me would you let him come play for a short while -
And of course, nobody could ever resist the charm of Phoebe Long. Stanley, his bike, and the jump rope were sent away with Phoebe and her bike, and a stern warning to be home before nightfall.
The children rode to an open park, jump rope in hand.
`` You ever done this? ``, asks Phoebe enthusiastically. All malice towards Stanley is long-gone.
`` Yeah, bet I can jump more times'n you can!''
And so it was a duel - and duel they did.
Our Lady of Pink was crushed in today's challenge, but her spirit was not.
She remained loyal to her cause, and every day, without fail, she and Stanley played their game like nothing else mattered - to be honest, nothing really did.
On Sunday morning, just over a week after the first incident, Phoebe woke up smiling. She gobbled breakfast at an Olympic speed, and was quick to ride over to Stanley's house, but only after her mother tied those pink ribbons that she so loved into Phoebe's hair.
Knock on the door.
Wait a bit.
Hello Mrs G is Stanley home we've got big things to do today yessiree oh no ma'am I ate breakfast not ten minutes ago please do tell him then -
Stanley steps outside with adventure in his eyes.
`` Ready to get creamed, loser? ``, he asks, sticking his tongue out.
`` Not today,'' Phoebe answers smugly. `` I've been practicing''. She winks, and the children laugh, and they board their bikes.
The ride to the park was beautiful. It was hot, and the sun shone brightly.
Too brightly, in fact.
Beep yell stop watch out scream jump WATCH OUT roll over push the bike away fall down STANLEY start crying my arm my arm what's wrong with it I ca n't feel my arm what's happening what is happening
For eight days, Phoebe and Stanley were friends.
He was never the same after his accident. In her own way, neither was she.
When school started in September, she saw him. Their eyes met, but only one pair recognized the volume of pain behind the other.
She looked at the stream of spit cascading down the boy's mouth, listened to the botched attempts at communication swimming out of his mouth.
He gaped at the girl, her black dress doing little to conceal her dead stub.
Phoebe looked down.
She did n't want to think about the jump rope anymore.
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[ TT ] [ WP ] A Sasquatch body has been found for the first time in history . The body appears to have been mutilated in a fashion similar to that of a human serial killer . Footprints and evidence found at the scene suggest this act of violence was committed by a 2nd Sasquatch .
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Ed shouts to his wife. “ Margaret the seven is on. Grab me a pop while you ’ re in there. ” Ed proceeds with his daily ritual of find his vertical space in his reclining chair.
Margaret closes the refrigerator door and with fervor. “ On my way deer. ”
The music of the daily news began to play and Ed points to the screen. “ I hope they talk about. I hear Jimmy Laiken found a big foot trail by his house. ” Ed excitedly searches for his bowl of popcorn with his right hand creating a jerking motion through his body making the spring in his recliner stretch and pop. Ed finds his bowl and pulls it to his chest. He begins grabbing small hand fulls of three to four kernels so as he could easily fit them in his mouth.
The music stops and the reporter the camera pans in and the reporter immediately breaks into character with tone and poise. “ Hello Bearchain this is Todd Tinder with your nightly news. We have some breaking news about a man who has witnessed a possible find of the century. I ’ ll leave the story for Denis to explain more. Denis. ”
The camera changes to Dennis standing next to a snow embankment on the side of the highway. The camera pans from Jimmy ’ s house and zooms in to Denise ’ s face. “ A man today believes he has found the holy grail of monster finds. Jimmy Laiken, a local of Bairchain city found what he believes to be the tracks of the elusive big foot. ”
The camera zooms out to show Jimmy standing next Dennis. Jimmy begins to rubs his hands together and reapplies his scarf battling off the bite of the winter air. Dennis leans in and asks. “ What makes you believe that these could be authentic big foot tracks? ” Dennis points the mic to Jimmy.
“ Interesting you ask Dennis. I ’ ve been bringing in the bales hay that was getting covered by the snow, when I saw them. ” Jimmy said with an almost delirium to his voice.
Dennis pulled the mic to his side. “ The tracks… Is that correct? ”
Jimmy grabbed the mic from Dennis making a thumping sound with the mic and pulled to his chin. “ That ’ s correct. ” Jimmy smilled and pulled his slipping pants up to around his hips. ” Follow me they ’ re behind my barn and I believe a wolf may have got involved because I see some blood. ”
Jimmy and Dennis made their way to the barn that sat 100 yards from the street and the house. The ankle deep snow did not slow down Jimmy even though it appeared that he was not wearing proper boots but tennis shoes that obviously being soaked through by the cold snow pack.
Jimmy pointed to the end of the rickety red barn. “ There. ”
The camera man was not amused and was getting annoyed by the venture and grumbled. “ My life, my life has come to this, chasing boogie men with crazy locals. ”
Dennis turned to the camera man. “ What ’ s that David? ”
David picked his head up. “ Nothing, I was just remembering I have dinner with the in-laws tonight. ”
Dennis laughed. “ Been there buddy, I can ’ t stand my wife ’ s mother. ”
The group came to the scene and noticed the tracks. Jimmy pointed to the patches of snow and mud that had the imprints in them. “ See here, this is where the tracks are and you notice the blood. ” Dennis nods and Jimmy points to the tracks leaving the scene. “ Looks like there was a struggle and it appears… Wow it looks like we have two sets of tracks here. ”
Dennis took a closer look carefull to not damage the imprints. “ Have you followed where the tracks lead? ”
Jimmy pulled his scarf around his neck to create a better seal. “ No I have not. I best thought to inform the authorities but they paid me no attention so I thought the next best thing would be call you guys. What do you think? Should we check it out? ”
Dennis pointed to David and nodded to Jimmy. “ Yes. Let ’ s find out what ’ s at the end of these tracks. ”
The team followed the tracks for about a mile and noticed that the blood that followed the tracks was becoming more prominent. David kept quick shots of sceneray and the group trenching through the soft snow.
The team came up to ridge and Dennis pointed at the crest of it. “ What is that? You see that? David, pull that in. Tell me what you see. ”
David zoomed in as best he could to utilize the full use of the cameras capabilities. “ It appears to be some sort of human. My guess is that it ’ s a mauled bear. ” David replied.
Jimmy jumped back and pointed 10 feet from the mauled bear. “ Oh my god what is that? ”
David panned over. “ My god… You wouldn ’ t believe me if I told you. ”
Dennis patted David on the back. “ Let ’ s get the hell out of here. I ’ m going to call the police. ”
The group quickly moved back to the barn. David put his camera to his side. “ Guys we have some real footage here. We are going to be fucking rich. Oh my god we ’ re rich. ”
Dennis removes his gloves and quickly calls Todd. “ We have the story. We have a god damn story here Todd. ”
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[ CW ] In 100 words or less spread some Christmas fear by ending with `` and then the screaming started ''
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Everyone was asleep, everything was quiet, but the little boy lay awake in his bed unable to reconcile the excitement within him. It was in this not-slumber that he heard the sound on the roof. Santa, he knew. Santa. How he'd been waiting for this day, when he would catch the big man slipping up and finally get a peak at the magical being known as Santa. After the steps on the roof ended he slipped out of bed, grinning, and crept into the living room. There, stocking the tree and stockings, was old Chris Cringle himself. Him and his giant bag of presents.
Jimmy smiled and pulled out the knife he'd hidden under his pillow. He'd used it to cut the safety harness that held him down. Jimmy's father barely had time to see Jimmy before the child lashed out with the knife. And then the screaming started.
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[ WP ] Humans are n't actually mortal . Upon suffering fatal damage , they are shown the entire future of humanity and given the option to heal or to accept death . Everyone picks option two .
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MY NAME IS DEATH.
`` Death? Just-''
YOU HAVE DIED.
`` Oh.''
DO YOU WANT TO TAKE A MOMENT TO COLLECT YOURSELF? IT CAN BE QUITE A SHOCK.
`` I-I suppose I am...''
I stared up at Death, not quite sure what I was seeing. A cloaked figure, complete with scythe in hand. Two pinpoints of blue light shone out from beneath the cowl. I could just make out the eternal fleshless grin/grimace that was Death's mouth.
I then looked down at my own body, and winced. I - my body- was not a pretty sight. I had been walking the cows back to my village, where I had slipped on the wet grass and dashed my head open on a rock. Ouch.
I looked back up to see Death contemplating me quietly. `` Uh... Death, was it?'' I ventured.
The blue pinpoints of light remained centered on me. If I had been alive, I would have been unnerved.
`` Um... nice meeting with you and all, but ca n't you send me back please? I need to get the cows home in time for supper.''
SO MUCH POTENTIAL. IN ANOTHER LIFE, YOU WOULD HAVE MADE A FINE WIZARD, PERHAPS.
*Wizard? * I wondered.
A SHAME, REALLY. NOW -
`` Wait a minute!'' I said. I tried to be angry, but somehow just could n't. `` Listen here - Death - if I have so much potential, would n't it be better for me to go back? I could be a wizard still!''
Death seemed to pause, then spoke. LET ME SHOW YOU.
Suddenly we were hovering over the village itself.
-WATCH
At first, I could n't see them. As they came closer towards the village I could make them out. They were my cows. And someone was driving them from behind.
I was confused. Nobody looked after the cows except me. The cows belonged to my family after all.
As they got closer and closer, I could see more detail of the stranger driving the cows. I stared in shock, as that person was none other than me!
But it was all wrong. I was n't supposed to be walking around with my skull cracked open!
`` What-'' I tried to ask Death, but the force of his words stopped me.
-WATCH
As if everything was normal, the Me walking the cows with his mangled head carried on to shepherd them back into the barn and locked it. Then the Me-that-was-supposed-to-be-dead went into the house. The sun went down as it always did, the light lingering before reluctantly giving way to the night.
-WATCH
The season had changed. It appeared to be the end of summer, which confused me even more as it was spring when i had been herding the cows home. The village itself was still recognizable, if barely so. Pale, sickly-looking people were wandering aimlessly all over. Something did n't sit right with me so I tried to zoom in with my incorporeal self. It worked, surprisingly, and I glanced around. What I saw appalled me. These people were n't just ill-looking; by all rights they should be dead!
*Like me*, I realized with a start. The people all had various injuries and all seemed to be in some stage of decaying, yet they still moved. I spotted myself and blanched. I looked worse than ever. and my family! My parents, my brother and sister - they were affected too.
-WATCH
I had no choice except to watch in horror as the villagers abandoned their homes and began to spread over the countryside as they turned other people into creatures like themselves.
Soon the plague was spread all over the continent and spreading even into the capital itself. I watched as the city's leaders and populace fell victim, and watched as a small resistance force formed itself, made up of the city's law enforcement officials, a few wizards from the university and a strange orange-furred monkey. They took a brave last stand as the world's entire population were swarming over the streets and the roofs to get at them-
Without warning, Death and I were back to our original position, hovering over my motionless body while a few cows grazed a few feet away. It was spring again.
THAT IS WHAT WOULD HAPPEN. YOUR TRAUMA WOULD AWAKEN YOUR POWER, BUT IT WOULD LEAD TO THE FUTURE YOU JUST WITNESSED. DO YOU STILL WISH TO GO BACK?
I gazed one last time at my body, mouthed *so long old buddy* to it, and then turned back to Death.
`` No.''
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[ WP ] You find a strange object in your closet . When you ask your spouse about it they start acting very odd .
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A small shoe box. Sat there, sellotape encircling the point where the lid meets the box itself. Sealed shut. Hmm, I wonder - what's it doing there? I've never seen anything before. I grab what I was looking for, stand up, and close the cupboard, pushing the shoe box to the back of my mind - surely something Liz has put there for whatever reason.
Throughout my day, my thoughts return to the shoe box - what's it doing there? Why's it sealed so tightly? Did Liz put it there? What's in it? An endless barrage of questions, none of which I know the answer to. I crack; I have to ask her. I get up, walk into the living room. `` Liz, what's that shoe box in the cupboard?'' I ask her. She does n't say anything, remaining fixed on the TV ahead of her, but I see the color drain from her face. She looks like she has n't heard me. `` Liz?'' I ask again.
`` Oh, just an old school project,'' she says faintly. `` I found it when I went to my parents' house last week.'' Liz had n't been to her parents' house since it was cleared out after their death? As far as I'm aware, the house has been sold.
I keep quiet about it.
The next day, I return to the place where the shoe box was. It's not there. Hmmph. `` Liz!'' I call, to no response. `` Liz, you here?'' I did n't hear her leave, so she's probably still in the house. That's when my phone rings.
`` Is this Mr Reed?'' A man with a Mancunian accent asks.
`` Yes, it is.''
`` Liz is dead.''
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[ WP ] A free app becomes available that lets anyone cast magical spells through their phones/tablets/etc ...
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11 year old Cory Blu stood on the top of the hill overlooking his village, a hand on his hip and the other holding his Xphone to the sky. `` When I grow up, I'm gon na be the most powerful magiXer in the world!!! HA HA HAH!''
His best friend Sara was struggling to climb the hill, and trailing her were two other boys, twins, both out of breath.
`` Wait up, Cory!'' She yelled at him as she pulled herself up to the final ledge of the rocky trail. `` Geeze, you're always going off on your own.'' She was holding her sides and breathing hard.
`` HA HA HA, look at this!'' Cory shouted, tapping buttons on his phone. `` SUPER FIREBALL!'' He shouted, pointing his phone towards a boulder in the distance. Instantly, two small fireballs appeared out of the phone and slammed into the rock face, causing a loud BOOM!. After the smoke cleared, two black scorch marks could be seen on its surface.
`` Cory, you know that's not allowed!'' Sara cried out, as the other two boys finally reached the top.
`` Wow, Cory, that was so cool!!!'' they said in unison as they both collapsed onto the ground. The twins, Levy and Grant Price, were younger, both 8 years old and at the age where they were inseparable and nothing but trouble. The only person they looked up to was Cory, the king of trouble makers himself.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!! More fireballs hit different boulders in the clearing, sending smoke, sparks and ash into the air.
`` HAHAHA, take that! No one can stop me - `` BOOOOMMMMM!!!!! A huge explosion rang out from the distance, and everyone fell to the ground.
The twins got up first. `` Wow, Cory, how'd you do that???'' Grant exclaimed as he helped Levy onto his feet. The question was met with silence, and then a shockwave, the earth rumbling intensely for a few seconds before going silent again.
`` That was n't me,'' Cory replied weakly. He looked past Sara and the twins over to the village, his face in shock. A mushroom cloud of smoke ballooned above the horizon. He froze. Both the twins and Sara looked back as well.
No one did anything for a few seconds. Finally, Sara got up onto her feet.
`` We should hide,'' she said. She went over to Cory, who was staring at the village in disbelief, and shook him by the shoulders. She looked back at the twins, her eyes set. `` Come on, let's go.''
The Great MagiXer War had reached their village, and when it had passed, they were the only who made it out alive.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
7 years later…
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
15 fireballs appeared out of nowhere in the dark of the night, each finding their target, an army tent in a clearing in the woods. Screams and the smell of burnt flesh filled the campsite.
Cory's Xphone dimmed as he walked into the clearing, past the carnage around him. `` Search for more enemy camps,'' he said into his phone before putting it away in his pocket, his mouth set in a grim line. `` This is going to be a long night.''
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[ WP ] Tell me about a hero who has the powers of a slasher movie villain/monster
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No words.
These creatures do n't deserve words.
I hunt them without a sound. When I was young, I yelled at them. I yelled at the top of my lungs. I called them evil, disgusting, viscous monsters.
Those words did n't stop them from doing what they did.
So now I walk silently to the barn. One of them is inside there now. I can hear his heavy breathing. He might have been able to escape if he had ran for the cornfield. Then again, I probably just would have burnt it down.
He's in that stack of hay. I can see him. I do n't let on right away. I want to see what he'll try to do.
Sometimes they try to fight against me. I have died three times and come back. They believe that if they are strong enough to knock my knife away, then stab me with it, they'll escape.
It's funny.
Time and time again, I hunt the remainder. There's about three of them left now, I think. Out of the original 10.
Oh, two now. The meat cleaver I just threw beheaded that one. I was n't even sure that was physically possible. Oh well. I've come back from the dead so I really should n't be the one to debate what is and is n't possible.
I remember when I was only 8 years old, after they had killed my family, and after the word monster left my lips, they had laughed. Then they bit the shit out of me. Then one of them took a mirror and hit me in the face with it, breaking the mirror and my nose. He handed it to me.
`` Look who's the monster now?''
I just pushed that one's head into an industrial-sized fan conveniently sitting in the living room. It was nice of them to leave all this stuff for me to kill them with around.
One more to go.
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[ WP ] You 've occasionally seen groups of strangely dressed people taking pictures and pointing at you . One day you confront one of them , who tells you he 's a tourist from the future where a company allows tourists to go back in time and observe great historical figures before they become famous .
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The day started off as any other. I woke up in my crappy one bedroom apartment and stared at the ceiling in bed. Fuck Mondays and fuck work. Pushing myself off the side, I grab a semi clean pair of pants and walk to the kitchen. The potptarts from last night were still in the toaster. A bit crusty but the wild berry jam always tasted so sweet.
I glance at the clock and notice I got 20 minutes until the bus comes. Pop tart in hand, I step in my shoes and head for the door. I'm careful to avoid the still drying paintings from last night's drunken session. Stepping outside, the golden afternoon sun is blinding to my dry dead eyes. I take a bite for courage to get through the day. Closing the door, i hear my downstairs neighbor yelling again. I swear every time I go outside, the asshole decides to start yammerin with God's knows what. Ca n't a guy get a break? Hell working at a call center is n't bad enough, I listen to shit at home to? Sometimes I hear my name, but I think it's just my imagination. Since Sally left, there has n't been anyone to talk to. I'm probably just a lonely fucker who ca n't paint for shit.
These thoughts stab at me as I reach the bus stop. The smell of urine stings my nostrils as i stare at the emptiness of the bench. Sitting down, i notice across the street an Asian couple take a picture. Weird, why the hell were they wearing mickey mouse hats? And why would they want a picture of the building behind me? I do n't have time to think as I see the bus come round the corner. Shit it's early.
I swipe my pass and take a seat near the window. As I lean my head against the glass, yesterday's memories play again in my head. The old women with the green scarf. Her bent nose and crooked smile as she visually molested me. A stereotypical stalker if there ever was one. She scuttled to the seat in front and began mumbling to herself. I couldve sworn she said my art would change the world. But I know that's impossible. Failing art school only proved my incompetence and drove me closer to the inevitable end. But losing Sally was the nail in the coffin.
Leaning back into my seat, my thoughts gravitate to the gun store clerk and that 1911 on sale. I think my Iast painting will be a hit.
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[ WP ] You discover proof that humans can build up the ability to do magic by practising intense meditation . Excited , you decide to try it out , even though sitting still is something you are horrible at .
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The room was silent except for the occasional fall of incense ash. Its scent filled the room and I inhaled deeply. Then slowly let it out. Inhale deeply then slowly let it out.
Man, what was the first thing I was going to do with magic? Flying? I've heard flying is quite fun. I did n't have the money for a jet pack, but with magic I could fly on my own accord. It would be so amazing to touch the clouds and see the city below me.
Or perhaps invisibility or clairovoyance? Thoughts of sneaking or seeing into the girls' locker room filled my mind. Visions of tits, pussies of and ass filled my head and my pants became tighter. Especially that one cheerleader.
Focus! Meditation takes complete focus. Breathe in and out. In and out. I wonder how I did on my calculus test last week? I feel like I did good. But maybe not. Focus! Magic! Pew pew. Laser beams. I could create my own jet pack or even my own flying car!
Ah, fuck it. That's enough meditation for one day. It would take about five years after I figure out how to meditate for hours. As I checked the clock, I realized it had only been ten minutes. Well, you got ta start somewhere.
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[ WP ] A new tunnel is surfaced after a volcanic eruption . it leads deep within the earth . At the end of the tunnel , explorers find machinery , and a lone man maintaining it all .
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`` Grab the line!'' I shouted again. Everything hurts. A free fall from maybe 20 feet from the last time I saw my crew. Just laying here hurts. Gears. Cogs. Pain. A shadow passed over me and lowered itself until I could smell coffee on its breath. Endless perfect sleep. `` Grab the line!'' echoed in my head. I was awake and the shadow smelling of coffee focused into a squinting face. His coveralls were pristine. Pressed. Ironed.
`` Whelp. I reckon you should keep the yelping down a bit. We do n't get many visitors at this level. We prefer our quiet as a rule but I reckon you're here for the inspection.''
`` Where am I?'' I asked as I'm handed a cup of coffee.
`` Core management and gravitational facilities. Main office. Hold a tic that there grinding you hear is ole greatchen trying sliding again. No matter how many times you put her on the right tilt she just goes and chases petra. Causes a typhoon.''
I have no idea what he's talking about. I'm surrounded by clockwork. I'm laying on a cog surrounded by cogs continually moving. I do n't even know what a gear is. Not now. Not what I was taught.
`` Do you mind if I grab the line? Take a break? It's easy. This lever slows and this pedal tilts. Do n't over think it but do not. Do not. Do not over tilt while accelerating. Try and keep it balanced. Also a slight tilt toward howard could help the Andes but hurt most of the western coast of Northern America. You'll figure it out.''
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[ WP ] You are in a milder version of Hell called `` Heck '' , what kinds of things do you find ?
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In all the years I sat in church
In pews that made my back a wreck
Never once spoke our priest from his perch
Of this hereafter known as `` Heck''
Half my life I've feared the hellfire
Certain that my fate was sealed
Doomed to squirm in Satan's mire
With no life left that I could yield
So you can imagine my surprise
Upon arriving down below
When I do n't hear tortuous cries
But old ladies cackling at BINGO
They chatter at me from all sides
Demanding tales of mortal coil
Gradually my fear subsides
As my temper starts to boil
But just as I'm about to yell
A loud gong sends the group off at a trot
Cursing their omission from hell
Where maybe Satan plays `` blackout''
It seems I'm just in time for lunch
Out of the cafeteria wafts a heavenly scent
Suddenly people are lining up by the bunch
Two hours later I'm halfway through my ascent
I'm ravenous when at last I reach the front
But, despite my desperate waving at the prime rib
The hard-of-hearing worker only grunts
And hands me soggy grape nuts and a can of Mr. Pib
I stumble to an open seat
And sigh as I see two giant TV screens
I'm about to kick up my feet
When an all-too familiar voice intervenes
***'' Jon!!! Save that seat, please!!! `` ***
Screeches Hal, who's sweating despite the lack of sun
He's a coworker from whom I generally flee
But, in Heck, there's simply nowhere to run
I settle in for a long debrief
It will be hours, days until Hal's done
A glance at the TV compounds my grief
The Summer Olympics. And a Real Housewives re-run.
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[ WP ] After death you meet God . It 's customary for Him to answer any questions you have about life . In His explanation about the origins of the universe , you discover that He is actually the rebel , and fell from grace from an even more Benevolent being which He destroyed . Tell His story .
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A voice boomed in my soul. At least, that was the sensation- I simply heard it. God was speaking to me. Somehow, I bought it. Years of atheism, a lifetime's worth of secular skepticism, and I just accepted I was talking to God. I had to ask the question, that damned cliche: who are you, and what's going on? He spoke, reverberating in my very being:
`` We called him Ur. He was the first. We do not know where He came from, and nor did He. We were a proud people, the few of us. Ur had made us in His image, omnipotent entities that could foster life in this universe, allow it to grow and entropy to be resisted. Ur had such a passion, you see: He loved life. Though, this passion was simply a reaction to His fear, His one and only fear- the one thing an omnipotent being could fear. An absolute end awaited Him, and awaited us all. Entropy gets everyone. All this had happened before, and all this would happen again.
So countless billions, perhaps even trillions, of years passed, far beyond measure of humanity's current level of technology and even comprehension. The universe is much older than you think, little light.''
I did n't think to interrupt. I just accepted, feeling his desire to keep talking.
`` Ur created us, 77 of us, to shepherd the whole of existence. To guide the beauty of chaos and nature towards more curated forms, perhaps finding in the perfected imperfection some uniquity quality that would yield a solution to the End. Our quest, though, it was inherently flawed: too much life, too much complexity, it was destroying the universe. Life flourished, infinite and diverse forms taking to the stars, and their flight and very existence drained the capacity of this world to house them. Ur prevented us from intervention, believing His grand design would save itself. We knew better. We concerned, and in an instance faster than quantification, we reached consensus: our love for Ur would not blind us as His love for life did Him. We approached, warning that this course would doom all life.
He did not listen. The cataclysm destroyed us all, save myself, and the Other, who would come to know himself as Satan. Ur was vanquished. His divine light was spread throughout the entirety of creation, towards a mean we were happy He could not see. A great Holocaust ensued, the deaths of an unquantifiable number of beings to save life itself. In your terms, little light, we reset the universe.
Yet, we knew that Ur was right, on one level. Omnipotence is not as limitless as one would presume, the word notwithstanding. We agreed to foster a handful of species, hoping that a curated few would find the answer we could not, and chaos would become our salvation. So my brother and I, we paved the Earth and guided the evolution of a choice few primates to become you. We created servitors to aid and guide you, what you grew to know as Angels.
Eventually, as siblings do, Satan and I squabbled. He was not named as such in those times, but took the title as an act of defiance. He believed I was too strict, too demanding, of those in our charge: perhaps he was right. I have scoured the Earth and countless other worlds, seeking to avoid the same mistakes Ur made in His quest. Perhaps my brother is right. I assure you, little light, his Hell is not as you think. It is a paradise such as this: we merely differed on the morality.''
As her speech went on, a speech I realized he had said countless times, I began to comprehend the implications. Things suddenly began to seem less dire, and, somehow, much more so.
`` Your kind are not the first, and they will not be the last. We are all children of Ur, and we must not fail Him. Your physical form is sacrificed to chaos, but your body's death ensures life anew. If you so choose, you may aid the effort with your remaining eternity. You may continue to live in paradise, untaxed and unburdened, if you so choose. You may also choose to simply terminate your existence. I will not begrude you the choice. I only ask that you choose.''
Eternal life of pleasure. Cool. And I can help save the world. Cooler.
Or, I can end it all.
I can not see God's face. I do not know if he can even be said to have one. At this moment, though, I know exactly what expression would be there.
How can I deny God when he's offering me paradise?
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[ WP ] Fantastic Beets and Where to Find Them
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Come one come all, behold the finest beets in the entire world! They will make you strong, make you good lover, make you king! Do n't wait to purchase these beets which will give you infinite power, all will fear and love you as you create and destroy the universe and all within it as you see fit. Other senitient life will worship you as the One, superstitious cultures will give you many names in many tongues, the scientists of all sentient life will trip over their words to explain your existence but it wo n't matter, all obeys your desire now and you can make them love you, if that's boring give them free will, whatever that means. ALL THIS with my beets. No returns.
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[ WP ] `` Job Hunting '' is literal . If you kill someone , you get the option of taking their position .
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It had taken me years, decades even, to reach this point. Planning my entire life in order to reach this goal. My dream, my passion, my purpose. Today it became reality.
A life spent searching, sifting through myths and legends to find some sort of truth, some common clue in the midst of all the stories polluted with exaggerations and misguided observations. But I had found it, that one grain of truth in the sandstorm of mythology, folklore, and plain bullshit.
The trek up the mountain was not an easy one. It was fraught with danger and colder than your mother-in-law's heart. Four times I almost fell to my death, once because I made a mistake and grabbed the wrong handhold, three times because the frigid wind nearly blasted me off the mountain. The world knew my plan, and it was trying to stop me. And the long iron pole I was carrying on my back did n't really make things easier either.
Thankfully I did n't have to go right to the top, as many would have thought. I had tracked him down to a small cave off the side of the mountain, he was surely there. He had to be. I'm never wrong.
I climbed into the cave and made my way forward, into the darkness. I flicked on my flashlight when it became too dark to see properly and carried on, but still the cave wound on. I felt like I was stuck in a loop, passing the same point over and over again, the entrance never seemed to move further away. Was I lost? It could not be. My research was perfect, I knew the way.
The change was so gradual I almost did n't notice it until I was surrounded. The rough stone of the cave had become smooth, turning into something more like black marble. I knelt down to touch it, I ran my fingers over the surface. It was cool to the touch, but it left my fingertips feeling warm. I stood and carried on walking, but my footsteps no longer echoed through the hallway. In fact, I could n't hear my footsteps at all. I was almost there.
Eventually I reached a doorway, cut into the black stone. It was heavy, and made of the same smooth, dark material. I pushed harder, and it gave way, opening wide before me. In the centre of the room stood a great throne made of glowing white stone that bathed the room in light. I had found him.
I reached behind me and unhooked the iron pole from my backpack, letting the cold metal rest easily in my hands as I approached the man seated upon the throne. He did not stir at my approach. Surely he already knew who I was, knew my purpose. His stillness almost made me rethink my decision, like I was preying upon a helpless animal. Who was I kidding, though? This man was far from helpless.
I raised my weapon, the only thing that could kill him, the only weapon to have ever spilled holy blood, the spear of Longinus, and drove it through him. As the blade pierced his body, his eyes opened and stared right into me, the knowledge of eons crashing into my mind, transforming me, recreating me. I felt his pain and anguish at the state of the world, I saw his plan, his vision. And then I felt him die, and fade, and then he was gone. Only I remained. Only I would rule above the world.
I had become God.
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[ wp ] The devil gives you 10 million dollars , but you have to spend all of it within 24 hours or he gets your soul ( classic deal ) . of course you , in crippling debt , shakes his hand .
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I could n't wait any longer. I had to sign the deal. I was ofcouse God's son and I needed to spread the message. I mean, all these broke churches would n't help Jesus Christ? JC, the man right? Well I'm stuck here on account of my project - `` A whole new world'' getting a D- and I'm out here representing all the losers who coulnd't create a sentient universe and spread love and happiness.
So OFCOURSE I took the money. Sue me right? I made the Devil. I mean technically its a glitch in the AI matrix stemming from my own insecurities as a universe coder, but still. I made him! How bad could it get. And so, with the 10 $ M, i hired a production crew and got Rihaana and Bill Burr ( I love him ) to do a music video/standup - mashup talking about Jesus this and Jesus that. Basically spread the lord's message. It went 10 $ M over budget because someone did n't explain residuals and copyright to me, so a laywer sued me for using Rihanaa's song and not licensing it. FUCK! Youtube is broken. So I made a video about it and it hit 5 Million views.
I beat Markiplier!
So I became a full time YouTuber and that's how i got started. Any questions?
`` Uhhhh, no. Moving on. What was it like meeting Justin Beiber at Playlist Live''
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[ WP ] Write a really great story that ends so anticlimatically that I hate you .
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A few days before the Messiah was to finally reveal himself, all the idle chatter and gossip died down. News blogs ceased publishing sensational rumours, and the internet talk-show hosts stopped interviewing self-styled experts on prophecy. It was all anyone could think about, but none would speak any more of it. It was as if words were exhausted, and this close to the revelation itself mere speculation and rumour were no longer a substitute for the real thing. Those last couple of days even small-talk was rare, as if everyone was saving their breath for something far more important.
He had been born twenty-five years prior to a virgin nun ( the doctors had verified it ). The high-priests had then confirmed that indeed the One had been born. No one believed it at first, of course. But then one by one the signs began to appear. The river Nile swelled up, flooded its basin like it had n't for five thousand years, and wildly shifted its course several times in one day like a giant wounded snake thrashing about in the desert sun. A hurricane dumped thousands of live frogs and fish on New Orleans in winter-time. In the Australian desert a huge fresh-water lake inexplicably appeared overnight, and then evaporated over the next few months. But the last of the doubters were only silenced when one day the sun itself dawned from the West, red-faced like a furious god, as if raging at all the unbelievers. It rose to the top of the sky by noon, and there it blinked: a total eclipse that lasted an entire hour. In the evening it set in the East and immediately reversed its course back to its normal routine. That day there were thirty-six straight hours of daylight in the Americas, and night just as long in Asia. The astronomers explained it as an extremely rare temporary instability in the dynamics of the Earth's rotation, and yet none failed to notice how exactly it matched the predictions of prophecy. There was no more denying that all the signs had come to pass.
The world had faith. The Messiah was raised like a normal child, his identity kept secret for twenty-five years from all but a trusted few. He was given the best education possible by the world's top scientists, artists and philosophers, and the best athletic training by top Olympic champions. It was said that by age sixteen he could converse fluently in thirty-five languages, play twelve musical instruments perfectly, and he could run and swim fast enough to set world records if he wanted to ( he did not ). But most importantly, he was said to be a good human being, kind and considerate, aware of the titanic weight soon to be placed upon his shoulders, and bearing its enormous pressure with utmost grace.
The day of the revelation, when he was to be presented to the world and crowned King, there was a joyous spark in the very air. The tense silence slowly gave way to a buzz of warm anticipation in the few hours before the event. Ten million people lined the streets in Jerusalem, having waited for weeks for a chance to glimpse the Messiah on his way to the Temple. All the rest of humanity watched it live, hundreds of millions in stadiums across the world on giant screens, and many more on small ones with their families at home, or at the local pub with their friends.
Everyone in the world was watching when the moment came. He rode into view alone on his white horse, his head held high and smiling, and the entire world gasped: the Messiah was beautiful! At first sight, the world fell in love with its long-awaited King, and when the cameras closed in on his bright face, all could read from the gentleness of his expression, and his held-back tears, that he loved them back. The young, unaccompanied Messiah rode his horse stoically down the streets and into the Temple, waving and smiling at the cheering crowds on the way. He was received there by the High-priest, and shortly there-after crowned King, to manic joy and applause the entire world over.
In the end it turned out just as it had been foretold. The young King soon rid the world of injustice and poverty, and over his long and peaceful reign he lifted all suffering from the heart of mankind, transcended consciousness itself into a universal whole, and ushered a new era of absolute contentment. He left no successor when he died, as there was no more need for a King.
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[ WP ] It turns out the entire world is made up of introverts and having realized this no one puts in effort to socialize anymore . You are the lone extrovert , how do you deal with this ?
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How do they do this? Sit here all day long, no one to talk to, nothing to do. How is this considered living? They go to their jobs, then go right home. Most places have shut down, with the exception of the stores selling bare essentials. Emergency services ( not that anyone ever really injured themselves anymore ) and grocery stores. That's all that *sort of* operated still. No more bowling ally's, no amusement parks, nothing that required enjoyment.. And going outside, of course.
Fuck it, I'm going to go out. I ca n't do this anymore. I put on my jacket and headed towards the door. `` Oh shit,'' I muttered. Almost forgot my hat. I loved that hat for a few reasons. A, it covered my buzzed scalp from the cold Autumn air, which is always nice. B, it was given to me by my fiancé as a gift. Back before she and everyone decided they did n't need to see anyone ever again. It's all I really had left of the old life, back when things were better.
I yelled at Mike through his door, banging on the door with the football I brought from home. The door hesitated in nature, then creaked open a few inches, baring a small portion of Mike's face. `` What do you want,'' groaned his unenthusiastic voice. `` Let's go toss the pigskin man. Like the old days in high school! Come on, we'll pick up a few of the guys from the old team.'' I knew my feigned enthusiasm would n't work, but I had to try. `` I'd rather just watch Netflix man, sorry,'' the voice answered.
And that was it. The door slowly creaked back into its usual position. I knew there was n't any reasoning with Mike at this point. He was n't the same friend I grew up with. From quarterback to mindless shut-in, I've seen what Mike, and many other, have become.
I tried ten other people before giving up. All of them having the same reaction. Their pupils would shrink the minute the light would peak into their dungeon. Their eyes surrounded by crust. Hair oily enough to drown in. It was disgusting... And fucking *depressing*. I'm not even sure what brought on this onslaught of introverts.
As I threw the football back to the ground, I remembered what Mike had said Netflix huh? Hmm.'' I pawned over my old Xbox lying on the floor, covered in dust. Why not give it a shot, right?
~
I woke up, sun still hidden behind my towel covered windows. The blinds alone never did the job right. 3:47 P.M. Huh, I'm up early. I got up to take a piss, because how else would you begin the day? I stopped at the mirror on the way out. `` Man, I totally look like The Dude right now, huhuh. Right on.'' I've watched that movie so many times I've got every line memorized. As everyone should, of course. I sat back down on my couch, my hair falling into my face again. I did n't have to worry about changing from my pajamas. In fact, I do n't own anything *but* pajamas anymore. I can work online, get paid from it, and buy everything I'll ever need online. Food, movies, video games; all available at my fingertips. I was just about to tap the bower button on my Xbox when I heard a knock on the door.
`` Bryan, come on out man. You've seen enough TV to know everything's normal again. No more of that mind-washing bullshit. We did n't buy enough shit online to make it profitable enough for the big shots, so they quit trying that method.'' I could almost see his lips curled up into a smile from that. Always cracking yourself up Mike. Well, you taught me something a few months back.
***People fucking suck. ***
I do n't care if you were susceptible to the messages and I was n't, you showed me what was actually enjoyable in life. I held my tongue as Mike continued to try and barter with me.
As his footsteps grew fainter, I thought about opening the door. I thought about telling him maybe I *did* want to go hang out. No.. No I wo n't say that. Why would I? That's only going to make it easier to get hurt again. Why would you want to see another face again when all they do is hurt you? They'll be there, some for awhile, some for no time at all, then they'll leave. They'll die. They'll give you comfort then just take it away, as if they enjoyed it. `` *hell, they probably do*,'' I found myself muttering aloud. I fired up the Xbox, the comforting whir of the machine filling the air once again.
`` Then they'll just leave you. Break you down as soon as you were comfortable. Leave you in ruins. How is that considered living?''
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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 .
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It started like any normal day. I was emptying all the emotions from my donation box. It seemed like the usual lot people wanted to get rid of. I grabbed the handful, threw the box on the table and let the emotions sink in.
I decided to not eat breakfast. Why bother with it? I'd just be hungry again later on. I have no extra money to spend anyway and the price of milk is too damn high. Also with the amount of chemicals in our milk, I ’ d likely get cancer. You can ’ t trust water either. Mind controlling chemicals in it. You can ’ t trust anything from big corporations these days. Or people. Especially people. With their lying and germs. Best to stay inside where they can ’ t get me.
With those thought swirling through my mind, I was constantly looking for my shoulder on the way to my room to get dressed. When I got to my room, a new emotion took hold. I looked at the floor at the discarded clothes, as I had forgotten to do laundry the night before. My body started getting warm and I started breathing deeply. I clenched my fists and slammed my right one on the door with a loud bang. I spotted a pair of scissors on the desk and rushed over to grab them. In short work I slashed my clothes to pieces, seeing red the whole time.
When I finally came down, I was sitting in a pile of rags. Tears welled up in my eyes. What had I done? Why did nothing go my way? What had I done to deserve this? All these questions rushed through my head as tears started to well in my eyes. I let these feelings roll through me as sobs racked my frame. I curled up into the fetal position in my hastily made nest and let the torrent continue.
I don ’ t know when I passed out but I awoke and was ravenous, so I made my way back to the kitchen to make something. Along the way I passed a mirror and caught a glimpse of myself in it. I stopped in my tracks. When did I become such a fat pig? I prodded and pulled at my body. No one will love me because I ’ m so fat. Even though my stomach was screaming at me to continue on my journey to the kitchen I was riveted to the floor. I can ’ t even see my rib-cage or hips. I ’ m such a fat slob. I continued to stare at myself in the mirror with an ugly look on my face as I studied every flaw on my body.
Eventually that feeling of no feelings returned. A sort of silence, which is hard to describe to others. The emotions had run their course. All in all a pretty normal day so far.
I was still hungry so I continued to the kitchen and made lunch. As I sat down at the kitchen table munching on my sandwich and sipping on my glass of milk, I heard a tinkle come out of the donation box resting on the table.
I grabbed it and opened the lid, lunch now forgotten, and there was an emotion I had never seen before. It was small and had a golden glimmer to it. Weird. In the 5 years since I put up the box I ’ d never seen this emotion donated before. Without really thinking about it I grab it and let it sink in. This was the biggest mistake of my life.
I felt light. Lighter. Like gravity had lessened its ever stronger pull on me. My back straightened and my shoulders un-bowed and for the first time in my life, I took a breath. It was deep, heady and glorious! My eyes closed as this emotion swam through my blood turning it to ether. My heart suddenly felt full. A good full, like to bursting, but with warmth. My mouth did something I ’ d seen other do. It started to curl upward at the corners eventually showing my teeth. All of a sudden I exhaled through my mouth with little sounds. This was amazing! I opened my eyes and the colours of everything. They popped. The lettuce on my half-eaten sandwich looked so green and the sunlight looked like spun gold. My skin felt charged and my head felt… free.
I basked in it. Let it wash over me. Drank deep from the cup. Tears welled up and started running down my face but these were different than normal. Everything was better. Everything.
Slowly though, it all started to fade. Going back to that no feelings silence as I sat at the table looking at my half-eaten sandwich. An unknown itch that I had had for my whole life was just scratched. Now that I ’ m aware of it, it seems like I ’ ll need to scratch it as often as possible. This was bad. I knew it in my gut. I would do anything to get that emotion again. Anything.
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[ WP ] In the future , murderers are executed in a similar way to how they killed their victim . You go into the execution room and find the most harmless weapon .
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I walk into the execution room, wondering what the weapon will be this time. The prisoner is strapped into a chair, awaiting my arrival. A burly guard is standing next to him. He's a tiny little shrimp of a man - the orange jumpsuit is way too big for him and the sleeves obscure his hands. He looks up at me, his eyes wide and terrified. On the table next to him, I see the weapon I need to use to kill him.
Peanut butter?
`` Yeah, the victim was allergic. He sneaked just a tiny bit of peanut butter into her food and watched her die.'' The guard looks expectant, wondering just how I'll do this one.
I wish I knew. The prisoner has no allergies that I know of. And we are not allowed to use anything other than the object they used to kill the victim. That, according to the infinite wisdom of the legislators who drafted this law, would make it cruel and unusual punishment. So I'm stuck with peanut butter and a prisoner who is not allergic to it.
The prisoner is too terrified to be registering anything anymore. Some of them get that way. The terror of impending death overrides all rational functions and the brain just locks up. Some of the tougher guys will try to argue with you, reason with you, tell you they were framed, plead for their lives. This little shrimp is nowhere near tough enough for that. I have to remind myself that he killed his girlfriend, in cold blood, watching her pleading for her life and begging for her epi-pen, watching her suffocate, and doing nothing to help as the life faded from her eyes. I force myself to concentrate on that rather than the terrified human being in front of me. I could not do my job if I could not do that.
So, peanut butter. A tiny amount of peanut butter at that. Not enough to smother him or stop his airway. What the hell do I do?
I look at the peanut butter again. They'd given me chunky peanut butter rather than creamy. I have a flash of insight - a chunk of peanut, lodged in a coronary artery, will probably kill him.
`` OK, get me a syringe.''
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[ WP ] A man cheats death . So death writes him a notice , on him breaking the contract agreement of life and death .
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Life or Death
Contractual Agreement
Section 14 ( a )
14th October 2015
Dear Micheal Phillips,
It is with my regret that I must push forward written notice in regards to our Mutual Contractual Agreement in regards to your death. Having broken rule 4b in Section 14 ( a ) of the Life or Death Contractual Agreement, you must be ordered to commit suicide within 28 days from the date of this letter. Failure to do so will result in this case being forwarded to the Afterlife Small Court.
Breach - Failure to be hit by a moving truck on the Littlewoods Interstate at 14:13pm on 10th October 2015 at the age of 46.
Please find attached a Defense Form where you can explain your reasonings in regards to the breach.
This must be returned within 10 working days to myself ( Death ) at:
1 Death Cottage
Suicide Way
Murder Forest
Afterlife
D34TH
Yours sincerely,
Death
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[ WP ] In future an alien civilization selectively breeds humans just like we did with wolves to get dogs .
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I watched from my perch atop the power pylon, the display in my Longsight goggles allowing me to view the activity below as closely as if I were five feet above the ground, rather than fifty. My camouflage cloak rippled a little in the wind, the material flickering a little as it projected an image of the sky onto itself, hiding me from all but the closest of inspections.
Down below, a large open space was visible between the buildings. It was ringed by a ten foot high force-field fence. I scanned the occupants of the compound within with interest.
They were truly magnificent to look at. Every one was perfectly proportioned, averaging between five and a half to just under six feet tall. Their hair was glossy and well-kept. Their naked skin was unmarked and hairless, apart from the facial hair of the males. Even their teeth were perfectly straight and white.
Hitler's eugenics programme had nothing on this, I thought.
The aliens had come several centuries ago, by the looks of things. Their advanced technology and society had easily steamrolled mankind's civilisation, forcing humans a notch further down the hierarchy. They had been culled down to a fraction of their population, then carefully coralled and selectively bred by their new masters.
Defective genes had been rooted out over the centuries, giving humans better health, more attractive bodies, and improved lifespans. They were now in better condition than they had ever been. But there was a downside. As the breeding weeded out all but the best physical characteristics, the flaws turned inwards, finding a home in the minds of mankind.
As a result, humans had been reduced to little more than beautiful animals. They were only a few points higher up the IQ scale than chimpanzees now. I watched them wander around inside their compound, naked, unaware of their situation. It was saddening, really.
I suddenly leaped forward, my cloak billowing out behind me as I twisted my body into a graceful swan dive off the pylon. Halfway down, the anti-gravity thrusters on my TimeWarp backpack activated, slowing my descent with a low hum. I hovered there silently, watching the humans below from my new vantage point.
There were some aliens wandering around the perimeter of the compound, looking upon the occupants with interest. They were grey-skinned humanoids, around eight feet tall with large blue-black eyes. I lowered myself slowly into the compound, invisible to the watching keepers thanks to my cloak.
I dropped to the ground silently on my fingers and toes. The surrounding humans paid me no attention either. They merely sat there, grooming themselves or curling up in foetal positions. I stood up carefully, trying not to collide with anyone as I began to creep across the compound, scanning the occupants.
My gaze finally alighted on my target. She was a young woman, about twenty years old or so, sitting in the centre of the compound. Her mane of curly brown hair reached down to the small of her back like a cloak, covering most of her slim frame. I crouched down beside her and took a small device from my belt. I held it up to the back of her head, millimetres from actually touching her, and clicked the button.
She jumped ever so slightly as the device's rays surged into her brain, reopening synapses, firing neurons, bringing back entire disused parts of her mind. I saw her green eyes suddenly light up a little as her mind rose back up the IQ scale. Suddenly she gasped quietly and looked around.
I put my hand on her shoulder.'Do n't move,' I said quietly.'I'm invisible, so you ca n't see me, but I'm here to help.'
She did n't look around, thankfully, but nodded almost imperceptibly. I looked over her head. A group of aliens were following one of the keepers into the compound. They began to wander directly towards us. I had seconds at most.
'Listen, whatever you do, do n't act as though you're intelligent,' I said quickly.'They'll kill you if you do. I'll be following you, but for now you're on your own. Okay?'
She nodded again, watching the approaching aliens. They were only a few metres away now.'Who are you?' she said out of the corner of her mouth.
I smiled behind my visor.'I'm you.'
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[ WP ] You find 20 dollars on the ground while walking home . Explain how this eventually leads you to finding the love of your life .
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I was walking home from work one day, thinking about how boring it was. Yeah, it paid pretty well, but it was n't challanging it the slightest. Just data entry from surveys written by people who were just wanted free stuff. So much profanity. I wished I had gone into university and got that degree...
Anyway, my eye was caught by a piece of paper, sitting in the corner of the street. I walked over to it, and yes, it was a $ 20 note. Obviously, I picked it up, because who would n't? I wondered where it was from; I wanted to return it, but there was nobody around, and even if there was, they would probably say its theirs anyway. I decided that I could keep it, which brought up the question of what to do with the money.
I did n't want to spend it on myself... While it was tempting, I did n't really earn or deserve it. I thought about giving it to charity... But I did n't know which one, and do n't most charities only give like a small fraction to their cause anyway? I sat there thinking about it, and then an idea hit me. I could buy 20 lottery tickets. I know the chances of winning are astronomically low, but I thought at the very least it'd make a good story to tell around the office.
So that's what I did, next time I was at the shops I bought the tickets, just choosing random numbers. I then forgot about it, and did n't even bother checking the numbers that night because I was distracted by playing games. The next morning I decided I may as well check them. The first four did n't match, then on the fifth I found I had won $ 5, which was n't so bad, I guess. The next 14 did n't match at all, as expected. The last one though... Well, I guess you could imagine my reaction to finding out that I won $ 20 million. There was a lot of screaming and punching the air.
The next few days were kind of a blur. There was a lot of paperwork, presenting of giant cheques, finding a bank that would accept giant cheques, saying that I did n't want the media stalking me. That kind of thing. After all of that was done, I just sat down on my sofa, watching telly. Looking over the sofa and noticing all the cuts and tears in it, I figured that since I had the money, I may as well get a new one... I went to the internet and looked over sofas. Well, as you'd expect I started looking at `` sensible'' ones, then quickly looked into the fancier ones. With selling points like high quality leather, massagers and cup holders. My computer then froze for the seventh time today and I decided that maybe I should get a new one... Well, you get where this is going.
Now, you might think that with an attitude like this, I'd quickly run out of money but... I did n't. $ 20 million is a lot, and I'm not the kind of person that falls for snake oil schemes or anything like that. But I would regularly log in to my bank account, just to see the $ 19 million that was in my savings... Almost obsessively... And I would dream about it... Just the knowledge that I was that rich made me... Happy. Complete. Like a big hole in my heart had been filled.
Now on impulse I am buying a big swimming pool to fill with coins so I can swim around in it.
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[ WP ] Everything starts out normally , but by the end , the audience is questioning whether one of the characters exists .
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The Winslow theater emptied its audience out into the street after a very well received performance of One Night in the Storm, a piece from an up and coming playwright. Some argued that it was his best piece yet, others said the best is still to come.
However, there was one thing they could all agree on, the absolutely dastardly character simply known as `` The Baron.'' He was in every scene, lurking in the background or. Sometimes it took a while for him to be recognized, for he sometimes wore disguise, but once identified he was impossible to miss.
The physical appearance of The Baron was also something up for debate. Some audience members said he could be identified by his large mustache, while others swore he was clean shaven. Some would claim he wore a telltale top hat and monicale, while others said he wore none of these.
Strange, now to think about it, none of the other members of the cast seemed to interact with The baron, even though he was an omnipresent character and, it seemed to the audience, to be a major charicter in the plays plot. Some thought he was the main antagonist and even direct rival of the hero.
whatever his role was in the story, it certainly was one of ill intent. All of the barons actions seemed to be leading up to a larger plan, however, it never came to light what that was. he could be seen stealing things from some characters or hiding things on other ones.
No one, but the audience it seemed noticed him. they did n't see him at the end either, when the curtain drew and the cast bowed. some audience members even stayed in the lobby a bit longer to see the actor that played him, but most of the cast members left from the back door of the theater and only a few went through the lobby. When questioned about who played the baron, the cast only looked confused.
On the repeat performance the next night, a few previous audience members returned. The play was still just as good the second time but it was missing something. the tone felt more lighthearted and the ending felt more hopeful then last nights. The only difference between the two performances, it seems, was the absence of the character known only as The Baron.
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[ WP ] You 're applying for a job in the bookstore . After the third interview , you realize this job is more than it seems .
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Derek leaned slightly on the wooden armrest of a now familiar chair, sitting in a now familiar office. Getting the phone call after an online application to *Rex's Books* had given the young man hope. The callback after the initial interview gave him even more. A third meeting meant he had all but secured the job.
The fourth call was simply annoying.
Still, unable to work any laborious jobs and having little education mixed with even less experience, Derek went to *Rex's Books* for the fourth interview. The small shop had no hiring team, just a middle-aged man by the name of Rex.
Derek turned his head as he heard the door open to the office.
`` Derek,'' Rex's voice had the tone of familiarity and he sounded to be smiling, though Derek could n't see him. `` Glad you could come back.''
`` Of course,'' Derek did n't bother making a show of standing, knowing from previous encounters that it would only be discourteous to the man. `` I'm glad you called.''
`` I've decided,'' Rex walked into Derek's view and to the other side of the oak desk, sitting down on an identical chair across from it. `` I've decided that you best qualify for the job.''
Derek realized he did n't hide his surprise well as the man laughed deeply, echoing off the small walls of the office.
`` You must be thinking I took long enough.'' Rex stated more than asked.
`` To be honest, sir,'' Derek started, `` I think... yes, four interviews seems a bit much.''
`` Hah!'' The man leaned in. `` Not just four interviews. I also hired two private investigators to do background checks, plus a good friend of mine that does a little more than that.''
Derek paused.
`` Shame about your father.'' He shook his head. `` Single black father, rare enough, then he gets into an accident, dies on scene... were you old enough to remember it all or is the leg the only reminder?''
Derek stood up, breathing slowly. `` You son of a bitch.''
Rex raised an eyebrow.
`` I did everything you asked. I told you I would be completely honest and you do-''
`` Look,'' Rex interrupted, pointing to the side of the oak table. Derek looked to see his crutches leaned against it. He narrowed his eyes, not quite believing what he saw. `` You're standing.''
Derek looked down and leaned slightly more on his left leg, finding it supportive. `` How...''
`` I think you're gon na like working here, kid.''
`` But-''
`` Go out there and man the counter.'' Rex said. `` We're the only two employees here, you know.''
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[ WP ] Write a bedtime story that 's engaging enough for children , but complex enough for adults .
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The man who ran faster than time
There once was a man who was lonely and sad
who saw other people and the friends that they had.
He thought to himself, `` why do n't I have some friends?
Who wear cool clothes and follow the trends?''
The man called out gaily, `` come play at my house!
With myself and my kitten and my cat and my mouse!''
The people walked by and continued to walk.
They must not have heard the sad man while they talked.
So the man was hurt bad as though cut by a knife,
And decided to run to the end of his life.
So he stepped on outside and he started to run
And he thought to himself, `` this is lots of great fun!
I'm a sad lonely man, but a pretty good runner.''
And he thought to himself, `` you know what might be funner?''
`` If I ran even faster I'd get to the end
Of my life and I'm finished- with time left to spend!''
So he started up faster, and faster yet still
And in less than a second, he'd climbed a great hill.
A second yet more, and the end of the state,
Then the nation, after another second's wait.
He ran so fast that he moved off the earth.
He was moving so quickly away from his birth
To the end of his life more quickly and fast
Till he thought he was at the end of his life at last
Then he kept going quicker, stars flew out of sight,
This man was running almost as quickly as light!
He thought to himself as he continued to roam,
`` I sure miss my kitten and cat back at home!''
So he turned right around and headed straight back,
Got back to the earth in two minutes flat!
But in the five minutes that he had been gone,
It was two thousand twelve- now it's three thousand one!
His kitten had kittens, and those kittens had more,
All one big family that now covered his floor!
And all of the kids who had walked right on by
Had grand children now driving cars that could fly!
He thought to himself, `` this is n't the end!
I've plenty of time to make many friends!''
So if you do n't have friends in this city or nation,
Maybe you can have friends in the next generation!
Just run to a star nearly fast as it's light
And return to new people that you can delight!
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[ WP ] You have just lost your legs in a heroic deed saving a sleeping shapeshifting Archdruid from an assassin . Sitting in your home ; depressed , a few weeks later , you see a falcon tapping on your window .
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Hearing the sound of keratin striking glass, I lift myself up and... I fall to the floor. Though they're gone, my brain thinks otherwise. Instead of legs however, all that's left are stumps and a phantom pain.
`` Are you okay?''
It's a woman. No, not just a woman, *the* woman. When I look past her, the window's open.
`` I'm... Thankful.''
`` Go away.''
`` What-?''
I ca n't stand being near her, not like this. If I'm near her, then...
The woman grabs me. With a short effort, she lifts me from the floor, resting my crippled body on the chair.
`` I'm sorry.''
It hurts.
`` I'm sorry.''
She kneels. The pain continues.
`` I'm sorry.''
Her head's on the floor. The pain grows.
`` I'm sorry.''
She's crying. It hurts... My heart, it hurts so much.
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[ WP ] Outline each scene in a story by first using song titles , then expanding on them .
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1. **Boom! Shake the Room** * ( Will Smith ) *: An explosion rips through the side of of a night club where our hero was to meet his contact.
2. **Battle of New Orleans** * ( Johnny Horton ) *: British agents flood the club through the breach searching for our hero who flees through the basement exit.
3. **Camouflage** * ( Brad Paisley ) *: He hides himself from the pursuing agents amongst the crowd of high schoolers attending their high school prom.
4. **Pain** * ( Three Days Grace ) *: The hero is shot, but more importantly, the woman, his lover, who comes to aid his escape betrays him to the british agents
5. **She fucking Hates Me** * ( Nickelback ) *: She tries to kill the hero, and is brutal in her efforts.
6. **Sittin in a Bar** * ( Rehab ): He manages to escape, but is wounded and ends up camping out in a bar waiting for either his rescue to come or the agents
7. **Snakebite** * ( God Smack ) *: The agents find him first and inject him with a sedative that makes him hallucinate.
8. **Sold** * ( John Michael Montogomery ) *: He's auctioned off to other interested parties who'd been seeking him.
9. **Uncle Tom's Cabin** * ( Warrant ) *: He's drowned after the information he had was retrieved and then tossed in a swamp to hide the body.
10. **Violet Hill** * ( Cold Play ) *: He sinks down and remembers all the horrid stuff he'd been through and remembers the girl that made him betray his masters to begin with.
11. **Bring Me To Life** * ( Evanescence ) *: He struggles against the bag he's in. He eventually frees himself from the bag and his bonds and makes it back to the surface.
12. **Watermelon Crawl** * ( Tim McGraw ) *: He crawls through the swamp, searching for civilization of any kind. The sedative still in his system making him groggy.
13. **Swamp Witch** * ( Jim Stafford ) *: Old woman in the swamp finds him and tends his wounds, bringing him back to life.
14. **Sexy Back** * ( Justin Timberlake ) *: He gets his mojo back. Fresh and clear headed, he gets ready to hunt.
15. **Seven Nation Army** * ( White Stripes ) *: He raids the headquarters and safe house of the British Agents who'd abducted him in search of the woman's child that put him on this path.
16. **Scar Tissue** * ( Red Hot Chili Peppers ) *: He gets the child, who is n't really a child, to his safe house. He helps the kid cope with what has been done to her.
17. **Trouble** * ( Chris Renee ) *: He is having to deal with her sexualized nature and her tendency to rebel while trying to get her to safety.
18. **Roxanne** * ( Sting ) *: He convinces her that what she was forced to do before, she does n't have to do now. No more strange men.
19. **Paradise City** * ( Guns & Roses ) *: He takes her to her new home. Where he's set her up with a new identity and money.
20. **Rolling in the Deep** * ( Adele ) *: He goes after the last stumbling block in his plan. The man who caused it all. He sinks the man's yacht with him on it, and holds on to him all the way down to make sure the man is truly dead, sacrificing his own life as well.
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[ WP ] A pandemic has brought the world to its knees . After extensive research , scientists have concluded that the pandemic initially began through restaurant staff , people responsible for touching food but who are not allowed sick days .
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Even though the world was dying, there were still scientists across the oceans working on a solution. They found the problem first: Chipotle fast food. The workers get no sick days, apparently. What does this mean? Chipotle Corporation killed the human race.
I looked out a window and saw a man vomiting blood on my driveway. That's how fucked up the world is right now. I'm losing weight by the day because I must ration food to stay alive. The internet is still working, thankfully. I vow revenge on Chipotle. I know the fucking CEO is retreating to a safe bunker with a lifetime supply of food and medicine. My thoughts are scattered. See ya.
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[ WP ] Soon after you die , you are approached by a deity who asks `` so , did you enjoy your time in heaven ? ''
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A preacher told me `` God feels mercy for us''. I asked him if that was true, and he told me `` Yes. God feels pain too''
So I know. Every creature feels like Hell, and we're already in Heaven.
It's the only reason we move or do anything. We're all trying to get out of Hell, and we're trying absolutely everything, but nothing works. Every motion you see a creature do is just them trying to get away from Hell. But they ca n't! Pain and agony is what we are!
And I'm starting to think that the things that are n't moving just gave up on moving. I hope that's working for them. I hope they never give up on not moving.
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[ WP ] You pass by it every day , maybe while commuting to work or running errands , and never give it a second thought . But its real purpose is more sinister than you could have ever imagined .
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“ Bye honey! I ’ ll be back to pick you up after soccer practice! ”
His daughter waved back with her usual enthusiasm and proceeded to run up the stairs determined not to be late. Robert was always amazed at how responsible she was at such a young age, something she definitely got from her mother. As she disappeared behind the large double door he put the minivan in drive and slowly pulled away.
As usual his wife called five minutes later in a semi panic.
“ Did you remember to give Kaley her lunch money?! Oh no! I won ’ t be able to pick her up from practice I totally forgot I have that merger conference today, can you do it please?! What about her... ”
“ Yes dear, everything is OK. I know you have a big day today, we ’ re all good on the home front. Please don ’ t worry. ”
“ I know babe, you always have everything under control... I love you. ”
“ I love you too. ”
With that he hung up and turned on the radio to the morning news ready for the day to begin.
*Four men were found seemingly paralyzed in the middle of an intersection in South Village last night. Each one was found lying flat on his back muttering what police only can describe as “ strange gibberish ”. All four have been admitted to the local hospital are pending evaluation. *
“ That ’ ll probably be the weirdest thing I hear today, ” he said half jokingly knowing he was jinxing himself.
As he came up to the four way stop where he made his usual left turn to continue to work he saw a man standing on the corner seemingly staring at nothing. The man was standing swaying slightly back and forth but never moving his feet. Since his back was to Robert there was no way he could tell exactly what the man was looking at.
“ It ’ s sad sometimes that these people can ’ t get help. ”
After arriving at the intersection fully Robert wasn ’ t sure what exactly he was looking at. The other cars at their respective stop signs weren ’ t even attempting to move. And what he really couldn ’ t figure out was why the lady across from him in the intersection seemed to be rocking back and forth in her seat.
“ What in the world….. ” he whispered, not quite sure what to make of all this. The drivers in the cars to his left and right sat eyes wide staring at….something. He looked to his right at the man on the corner swaying.
“ What the hell is he starting at?! ”
Annoyed Robert attempted to follow the mans gaze but didn ’ t have to look far. His eyes remained fixed on the stop sign.
A strange feeling came over him, as if he wasn ’ t sure where he was. He wanted to shake his head to snap out of it but realized his neck wouldn ’ t respond. His grip on the steering wheel remained fixed and his shoulders tense.
*WHAT IS HAPPENING?! *
“ It will all be over soon, for today is the day. ”
There was no need to turn and look anywhere because the voice came from the sign, yet from within himself at the same time.
“ You have been chosen for permanent purging, please remain patient as the queue for this round is filled…. ”
“ You have been chosen for permanent purging, please remain patient as the queue for this round is filled…. ”
“ You have been chosen for permanent purging, please remain patient as the queue for this round is filled…. ”
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[ WP ] You 're in high school . The teacher excuses them self and leaves . They do n't come back . You realize all the adults have vanished . The school is filled with students with no guidance . Every door is locked from the outside .
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Jilly stood up first and walked to the door, the class room was silent still. All of the students' eyes were on Jilly as she walked to the door. She peaked outside the door opening it slightly.
`` I do n't think Mrs. Ashworth is coming back guys..''
Everyone stared at Jilly now confused
`` What the hell do you mean?'' Eric yelled quickly
Then a student busted in the door into Jilly making her fall back and hit her head.
`` All the teachers are gone, Biggest dodgeball match ever happening in the east gym, underclass vs upperclass. Be there to fight for your team or cheer them on in the stands. If not you will be hazed!'' The student yells.
`` Aye Fuck you Randall!'' Eric yells and a couple students run to help Jilly.
`` If there's no teachers we should go home.'' Eric says to Timmy and Coraline.
`` I'll take Jilly to the hospital if there are n't any teachers there ca n't be nurses..''
Coraline said as the three tried to pick her up. They get her up and start carrying her. Ross a seven foot tall behemoth who was a drum major, and his best friend Thomas followed them for protection. As they get to the door they start hearing people scream. They move quicker the door is locked they all panic. Ross and Thomas start throwing whatever they can find at the door. They try books, computer screen, eventually a desk. They run into the closest classroom and lay Jilly down.
`` What the hell is going on?'' Coraline asks
`` There's no need to be afraid yet.. There has n't been any gunshots'' Ross said sarcastically.
`` Not the time Ross, we need to figure out what's going on.'' Eric said pushing Ross slightly.
`` How about you, Thomas and I go check it out then. Timmy can stay with the girls.'' Ross says slightly glaring at Eric.
`` Yeah I can hold down the fort you guys just go!'' Timmy said and then wiped the sweat off his forehead.
`` How are you sweating it's December?'' Coraline asked him jokingly
`` I have an anxiety condition, you guys just go. I got this!'' Timmy yells.
Ross, Thomas, and Eric are running down the hallways. Cutting left and then right, there were fist fights in the courtyard. Gordon Peters was getting his face beat into the ground flat by two of his classmates as the entire senior class cheered them on. Ross, Eric, and Thomas ran faster now. The students were everywhere. There was no where safe..
Eric stops quickly and puts his finger over his mouth, and motions to a student walking towards them with a large butcher knife. Thomas whispered
`` How the hell did she get that?''
Eric replies
`` Her moms a lunch lady, but let's just go before she sees us.''
They all duck backwards and walk around to the custodial room. Eric quietly shuts the door. Eric locks it and they all let out a deep breath.
Thomas talks first
`` What the hell is happening? It's like they're all possessed!''
Eric shushes him the girl looks in through the stained glass window and tugs on the door, she does n't see them and she walks away. Ross wipes his forehead and says
`` Who is that girl Eric?''
Eric turns around and whispers
`` Betty spring, people say she's a nut.''
Ross chuckles silently and says
`` Obviously we just witnessed it first hand.''
Eric walks to the door and peaks out of it and whispers
`` She's gone we can go''
Ross and Thomas follow Eric they pass the seniors now looking for the next competitor. They watch as a brave set of sophomores twin brothers step up to the plate. The four students are brawling, The twins are winning. One of the seniors standing around the circle joins in to help his fallen seniors when Betty Spring flashes out of the crowd slicing into the seniors back everyone yells and starts to run. Thomas's face went white and all the students started running. Thomas falls, and Ross catches him. Eric helps grab him and yells
`` Fucking run!''
The two ran, they lost the crowd and made it back to the room with Jilly, Coraline, and Timmy. Then they locked the door.
Jilly had come to, Timmy was passed out and Coraline was crying and saying
`` This is all to much for me... Jilly does n't remember who she is, and Timmy passed out. The world is ending!''
Eric and Ross set down Thomas next to Timmy. They took off their hoodies to use as pillows for the two. Ross starts to comfort Coraline and she throws her arms pushing him away and yelling
`` Stop coming on to me you creep, this is serious''
She was still crying and Ross's face grew long and he said
`` I'm sorry Coraline, I really did n't mean it that way. Just do n't cry.. please?''
Coraline smiled and then sobbed a couple more times. She cleaned her face up with her sleeves and she froze and asked
`` What did you guys see out there?''
Eric looked at her eyes glaring
`` It's going to hell out there. Betty Spring attacked someone with a knife. The seniors are having fist fights now instead of dodgeball. We are n't safe, but we can get out. There has to be some way''
Coraline's face went pale. She nodded back and forth. Coraline looks at Jilly, and says
`` Jilly, what are you doing?''
Jilly turns to her with a blank look and opens her mouth
`` I'm Samantha now. No more Jilly.''
Coraline, Ross, and Eric all look at her strangely.
Then a few knocks are heard on the door, they all run to the back corner except Jilly. She stands at the front of the room staring at the door. Coraline motions her toward the back
`` Come on Samantha, shh though be quiet.''
Jilly starts walking to the back when another set of knocks hit. Jilly looks from the back of the room to the front. Eric motions her, and Ross says
`` Jilly come on.. I uh I mean Samantha come back here, be really quiet though..''
Jilly turned to the back and yelled
`` I told you I am not Jilly, I am Samantha!''
The door busts in and the lights go out. There is a struggle happening in the room. Eric is holding Ross and Coraline back. Then the back up generator kicks on. The lights are way more dim than usual, and there is a large trail of blood leading out of the room, and all over some of the walls. Eric looks around and whispers
`` Where the fuck are Jilly and Timmy, Thomas is still passed out.''
Coraline and Ross look around the room avoiding the blood. Then a voice booms over the intercom.
`` Come one, Come all, but none of you stand a chance''
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( Wp ) You are a citizen living in your country 100 years from now .
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The snow continued to fall beyond the boundaries of the shitty little motel room we had camped out in for the past couple of weeks. I glanced at my watch and then back out the window. The motel was placed at the end of the towns main road, I'm not sure what town, they tend to run together. I grew increasingly worried as I looked across the desolate cityscape before me. `` She should have been back by now.'' I thought, `` something must have gone wrong.''
My rifle was perched on the table in front of me, aimed down the corridor of what I can only assume was a bustling downtown district. Nothing moved, except for the falling snow meandering from the sky. I peeked through the scope, scanning the abandoned cars and forgotten storefronts for signs of Jenna's return.
`` Fuck!'' The countless scenarios raced through my head, `` God damn it Jenna! Why did you have to insist on going out alone!'' She insisted I stay back and take watch, she knew I was in pain.. That last group of marauders really put a number on me.
I barely even remember life before this, it all started nearly 20 years ago. After the Russians took control of the oil, they slowly choked out the American economy that was so heavily dependent upon the crude petroleum products. Then came the riots. The Russians did n't even have to lift a finger-those bastards.
Moment 5 blocks down catches my eye. I lower my head to the scope. A small fox hops out of a pharmacies broken window, I watch the fox and the turn my attention back to the window. `` Maybe something spooked it from its home'' I contemplated as my gaze was fixated on the broken window.
I had had enough, I grabbed an extra clip, my snow camo jacket, and my knife. I looked out the window and surveyed what lay before me. I made my way down the left side of the street looking across my eyes shifting across my surroundings.
Clang Clang Clang
Loud metal on metal sounds emanate from the depths of the of the pharmacy. `` What the fuck?!?!'' I jumped behind a nearby abandoned Buick and sight my rifle. I've got to get a better vantage point.
Clang Clang Clang!
I rush to the alley across from me and find the side door to the pharmacy. Whoever they are bringing all this attention, they better be ready. I gripped the handled to the back door, and pulled.
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[ WP ] You were killed and sent to the underworld . A few days later in the underworld , your killer arrives and asks for your help .
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Poets, the philosophically inclined and peddlers of cheap fiction all like to think in the underworld seconds pass an eternity, the dead languishing for eons in crippled misery. The truth as it usually seemed to the case was much more banal than that though not as nihilistic as many anticipated. There was indeed a god of some kind who's irrational if somewhat limited powers had created this storage world of people, at least according those first arrivals who had met the deity and had the wherewithal to ask. There did n't appear to be any discernable rationale for the existence of this place and it would seem the one who made it did not care at the consternation this caused the residents. Time passed as it did in life, there were days and nights which was good for routine if that was your sort of thing but importantly it was more or less a reflection of the world we had all left. Again this is according to consensus with some speculative individuals suggesting instead it's unique to the person and everyone else seen or heard is an apparition. I had arrived here a week ago having died presumably after being stabbed through with a length of decommission ventilation ducting which had fallen free of a building. I had been on my way to send some letters addressed to the previous occupant of my flat back to sender when the pressed metal had come apart in the workers hands. The bloody thing glided and flipped through the air before deciding it would drop out of flight and rammed into the side of my torso undoubtedly doing some nasty things inside. I assume I died there, it's possible that I survived, lived a long life and died in my sleep at a ripe old age with dementia so intense it wiped out memories of most of my life leading to me me to appear as I remembered last. Edit: doing this on my phone, be right back to finish it.
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[ WP ] A demon tries to possess you . It soon learns the true meaning of suffering ...
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`` What is this place?!'' He says trying to make sense of what's happening. `` Where am I?''
Things and images flash before his eyes, images of different types of hurt appear before him. Emotional, Mental, Physical, and, most dominantly, Spiritual pain and hurt.
`` How?! What is life without belief?'' He shouts out loud and nothing answers back. `` Where are you?!''
He sits alone in a darken area with only images appearing once and while in front of him, but can not decipher what is happening to him because he was suppose to be the one in control.
`` What am I suppose to control?! What is this!?'' He says after a few hours, he is slumped defeated with only the images to keep him company. `` I want to leave! LET ME FUCKING LEAVE! I CA N'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!''
The images begin to show a more joyful moments, but slowly they become construed and uncomfortable to view. He feels around for anything near to cower for. Everything around him does n't make sense, and he can not tell how long it's been.
He lays there in a fetal position, shaking and trying to look away from the images.
`` God?'' He says weakly, `` Are you a child of God?!''
`` No,'' says a voice back to him, `` I'm just lonely.''
`` Where am I!?'' He sits up frantically, looking around for where the voice came. `` TELL ME SOMETHING! ANYTHING!''
`` You are staying with me.''
`` What?!'' The demon shouts, `` What?! I'M PURE EVIL! DO YOU REALLY WANT TO DO THIS!?''
`` You are n't truly evil... Just misguided. Stay with me.'' The voice says back and goes quiet.
`` What!? Where are you going!?'' He shouts and waits for a reply. `` WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?''
No one answers The Demon, as he continues to be a prisoner of this person's consciousness. The images are the only thing keeping him company.
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[ WP ] In a world where everyone has a super power , describe the people working at a fast food resteraunt .
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`` That'll be three seventy-five.''
The customer looks at me. I can see the pity in his eyes as he hands over a five dollar bill. I look down into the till, and by the time I look up he's already gone. I pocket the change with a sigh. Super-duper.
`` A double Double: extra cheese, extra bacon, extra large cola, extra side of fries.'' This guy's huge, gargantuan even. The muscles literally ripple across his chest as he lowers his arm from pointing, pectorals oscillating over one-another like a percussion boom. I do n't like to make assumptions, but I guess this guy is Super-Strong. Maybe he's Super-Smart and he just works out, who knows, but what's the point in working-out when any of the Super-Strong can out-lift you without breaking a sweat.
Super-unsweatiness. That'd be a great one. I wonder if it exists as I punch in the meathead's order. The price is $ 14.59. Maybe I'll get lucky here, maybe I wo n't. I turn to the service-counter and bag him. The guy hands me a couple of a couple of notes; a $ 20 and a $ 10.
Definitely not Super-smart. I sigh.
A couple of twin girls order identical meals for $ 4.99. I think they're super-sexy, but say nothing. One holds her breath and changes the colour of her hair to gold. I prefer brunettes and so give a half-smile to her sister. I can see the pity in her eyes. I take their money. I bag their food. I sigh.
A group are larking about. Their order takes for ever. One kid keeps popping in and out of existence, refusing to decide on his choice; another keeps teleporting into the kitchen and shouting out abuse about the lack of cleanliness. I fucking hate these people. Eventually, they order, I take their money, I bag their food. In my head I visualise an image of myself as super-cool, super-popular, super-anything. I visualise myself moving at super-speed punching these super-douche-bags super-hard, kissing the girls super-sweetly, saving the world super-nonchalent.
None of these things happen. Instead one of the diners eating-in looks up from his salad, and stares at me for a few seconds. A telepath probably. I can see the pity in his eyes as he observes my pathetic fantasies. I ca n't take it anymore, and my pockets are full, so I take a five minute break. I do n't even smoke.
Hours later, my shift ends and I slop-down. I go home at a normal speed and in a normal way to my normal flat. I triple-lock the door and head into the lounge. I empty my pockets. It's been a good day. I pull out handfuls of change - dimes, nickels, pennies. I even have a few bills thanks to the meat-head dumbass. Today was a good day but I need to do better. I total up the money and write a small figure in my ledger: I have a long way to go.
Late into the night I sit and practise my super-power. It's pitiful.
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[ WP ] You 've died and have woken up in a bright area ; there is a man standing before you in white robes . He asks `` How was Heaven ? ''
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I feel like I should be disorientated, but I simply feel nothing. I am aware that someone is standing in front of me, but I do not see them with my eyes. I have no eyes at all, but yet I know they are there. More than that, I know what they are wearing. I know what they look like. I can not see, but I can sense their presence. It is quite surreal, as if I am less of a physical being and more of a conscience, free of the confines of a body. Suddenly, the man speaks:
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
`` How was Heaven?''
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
I am not quite sure what to feel. I first experience a sharp pang of regret, which was then followed by confusion. Where am I? Why am I here? Why am I anywhere? As an atheist, I expected.. well I am not quite sure what I expected when I died. Blackness? Nothingness? My point being, I was certainly not prepared to learn that what I had just left behind was actually heaven. The man patiently waits for my response:
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
`` Heaven?''
`` Yes, how did you enjoy Heaven?''
``... So if that was Heaven, what is this place?''
`` We'll get to that, but first answer me; how did you enjoy Heaven?''
`` Why am I here, am I in hell?''
`` You are exactly where you are and where you are is exactly where you belong. Now, I will ask once more. Did you enjoy Heaven?''
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
My life flashes before my eyes in a disorientating blur of emotions and memories. Nostalgia hits me like a truck as I think back on my family. My mother's loving face consuming my vision right after my birth. Happiness. What I would discover to be short-lived happiness. My panic as I cowered in the corner of the room, listening to my parents beg for their lives. The sound of gunshots that haunted me for the rest of my life. An instant passes and I was now the one staring down the barrel of a gun, a gun that delivered me to my strange conversation with the man in robes.
-- -- -- --
``..No, no I did not enjoy `` Heaven''. In fact, I would be much more likely to brand that life as Hell than I would Heaven.''
`` Very well. It has been pleasant speaking with you. Goodbye.'' The man abruptly turns and starts to walk away. I sense him receding and frantically yell after him, `` Wait! What do I do now?''
He turns and I feel him intensely staring at me. `` You start anew and try to find the happiness in this life that you could not find in your last. Only when you realize yourself that life is Heaven, then will you have peace. Until then, you will try once again.''
Processing this, I start to feel a burning sensation within me. Some innate sense tells me my time is running short and I ask one final question of the mysterious man in robes: `` Again? How many lives have I lived?''
He seems to ever so slightly grin and cryptically responds, `` Very few compared to how many some require.''
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
My mind melts and I know only pain as my eyes adjust to an astonishingly bright light that consumes my new vision.
`` It's a baby boy!''
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[ WP ] After an intense war , America has fallen to foreign forces . As troops begin to decent on the White House , the President of the United States gives his final speech to the American people .
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All across the United States, television screens were probably blaring light into every living room, bedroom, or kitchen they may have been set up in. Terror was sleeping, resting it's head upon the country like a gentle pillow in the night. As to a time of now, the President, by name of Carter Freeman, stood before the camera. His suit had retained some dirt - the room shook.
He paused, as if he could n't speak the words. Within a few seconds, the President was handed a small glass of water from someone off-screen.
`` My fellow Americans,'' he had begun. His voice had cracked a little, but at least the water let him speak. `` I, as your Commander and Chief, have only sat behind the desk of the White House for the last three years. The things I have desired to do would have only been able to fix this country, if they were executed properly.''
A man murmured in his ear, baring the same suit, without the tie the President wore, in favor of a black tie against red.
`` Now, our enemy marches upon us, unlike the thought that they were once our brothers in arms. Anyone near the northern borders of our country; or as far down as California, specifically Sacramento..'' He paused, seeming to drain in colour.
``..You may have noticed the Canadian forces moving in. Some form of warfare has sprung up all around the continent. We are only receiving support from our Northern allies. Mexico, and all else south - are now our enemies.''
He coughed a little bit as the room shook once more. The camera man stabilized.
`` I.. uh.. regret to inform that this had only begun, because Texas.. had to recreate the Confederacy. Whilst unsupported by any state from.. those previous.. uh.. times, they were still equal to our forces with everyone.. we face right now.'' The President stepped back.
`` Therefore, I - President Carter Freeman, reserve my right to apologize to the American people. This will be my final speech. I will do as I can, as your Commander and Chief, to remain in control of this nation's capital.''
From then, the camera shook. A hand extended forwards, moving towards President Freeman from behind the camera.
*A gun* was given to the President. Definitely light, like a handgun.
Less light shone upon the room, as the camera shook. Then, it all went to black.
President Carter placed the gun in the breast of his suit jacket, looking between the two Secret Servicemen who stood before him, one holding the camera.
`` You two understand what we must do, correct?'' He asked, voice becoming more lively than before, as he reached for the glass of water.
`` Defend the White House whilst you commit suicide?'' One of the Secret Servicemen questioned.
`` No.'' Carter seemed to take offense to that. `` We defend the White House with our *lives* for the rights of the American people.''
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[ IP ] Space Docks
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Nathan Deshler had not been home in many years, long enough that he often wondered if anything would be the same.
Of course, a home was a metaphysical construct Deshler knew, something dredged up by poetic minds and morose hearts. A house was not always a home and a home not necessarily a house. He had seen beggars with more a claim to a home than a wealthy merchant with millions to his name, and had dined at grand tables so quiet that each person might well have eaten alone. Still, he often wondered if his homeworld of Ryerson, part of that oft-secessionist realm that was the Duchy of Andurien, was still the same as he left it.
He wondered if the town of Bridgewaters, where he had spent the early days of his youth, was still a booming timbertown with unpaved streets and unpainted clapboard buildings. He wondered if Port Langley, the capital city and principal drop port, had yet to finish its long-awaited financial district. They had laid the first foundations just prior to the end of the Word of Blake's Jihad and were just entering the finishing stages when Deshler had left for the Humphreys Training Academy.
Deshler was curious why he was in such a self-reflective mood. Perhaps it was because the battalion was in the midst of shipping out to their new assignment, or maybe he'd just felt like it. Whatever the case he shook his head and turned his thoughts to more pressing matters and moved out onto the foreman's walkway, his boots ringing on the metal grating.
Below him trucks and cargo haulers loaded with metal crates and shipping containers trundled from the storage warehouses dug deep into the the earth and into the cavernous hold of the *Duke of Lancaster, * their *Overlord*-class DropShip. Shaped like nothing else than an upright egg-shell, it was a venerable design within the Inner Sphere. Capable of carrying a full battalion of BattleMechs and a squadron of aerospace fighter, the Duke had been a prize seized from the Lyran Commonwealth nearly a hundred earlier. Despite its age it had served Clifton's Rangers well, serving as transport and the nearest thing to home that most of those soldiers of fortune knew.
Deshler could make out their logistics officer, Lieutenant Bartholomew Obleck, below. The rufus-haired officer was in a shouting match with a indig-foreman, both wearing hard-hats and earmuffs to protect them against the noise and hazards common to industrial zones. Whatever they were arguing about must've been a passionate one for he saw both throwing up their hands and casting rude gestures at one another, gesticulating wildly to get their points across. Simultaneous they gave one another the most ancient of hand signs before storming off in different directions. Deshler would have to ask the Lieutenant exactly what that was about later.
A bit further down the loading dock he could see Staff Sergeant Chambers going through a final check-through of their latest acquisition. A 60-ton Manticore tank, it was fresh off the Jalastar Aerospace assembly line, so fresh in fact that some of the paint was still drying when last he'd checked. Rebecca was ecstatic, the normally taciturn tanker giddy as she accepted their payment for training with Jalastar's corporate security forces. Rounding their Tank Destroyer platoon to a full four machines they'd placed Sergeant Dodds, Chambers' former gunner as commander of the Manticore. He was currently sitting on top of the tank's hull painting a slogan on the side of the turret.
*The Dreadnought*
Fitting, thought Deshler.
A few kilometers off he heard the telltale roar of engines and watched as a *Mule*-class DropShip rose up from its landing pad, no doubt loaded with military hardware and equipment. They would undoubtedly be heading towards the Capellan March, where the war against the Capellan Confederation was going poorly for the Federated Suns. It would take a miracle it seemed to turn back the juggernaut that was House Liao and the CCAF.
`` Best of luck to you boys...'' Deshler murmured, squinting against the harsh light of the fusion engines. `` Give them Hell.''
With that, he started towards the stairs and left the sight behind.
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[ WP ] Nicolas Cage is completely unaware that he is an actor . All he knows is strange men with cameras follow him around while he gets into crazy situations and money shows up randomly in his bank account .
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I was quietly walking down the street. Suddenly a random woman approached me and said `` Your Nicolas Cage!''
`` How do you know my name? I've never seen you before! ``, I exclaimed.
`` I loved you in Ghost Rider! ``, she said.
Impossible I thought. `` You know I am the rider? ``, I shouted. `` Look into my eyes. ``, as I hold her by the shoulders. `` Your soul is pure, so I will spare you. But you must come with me. Dark forces are after you.''
I push her into the back seat of my car and floor it.
`` What the hell are you doing?! ``, she shouts.
`` I know it's confusing, but soon you will understand everything like me.'' I reassure her. `` We just have to get to the cave before the solar flare wipes out everything ``
`` What the hell? What cave? ``, she screams.
`` The same cave I found all of that treasure. Where else? Well there is a secluded island with a weird bee festival. But that place is way too creepy. ``
And they sped off into the sunset...
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[ WP ] For your entire life , you 've had a voice in your head counting down , and it 's getting close to zero .
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I have always had this....this itch it seems always to be at the back of my mind. If i concentrate I can hear a rasping voice counting down... just just counting... I never thought much of it until the voice laughed when it reached 100... It seared every thought in my head away... it was blood chilling.
Now I am terrified what happens when the voice reaches 0.
10...
It has started what will happen..
9...
Will I die...?
8...
I ca n't get off my knees the.. pain...
7...
What is happening everything is on fire..
6...
.....
5...
Make it stop..
4...
I hear laughter again...
3...
The pain is lessening...
2...
I feel so cold
1...
....The pain leaves and I open my eyes and see a robed figure... All i can think is I died... I had to have died right?
Death laughs I now know who has been laughing in my head.
Death does n't speak he takes off his robe and outstretches it to me.
I reach out with trembling hands....My hands are now white white bone.
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[ WP ] You 're not mad , but you 're pretty sure the voice in your head is .
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In the middle of the night, Ben Watson was jolted awake by a voice. In his head. It was not his own voice. This was a different, less sane voice that sounded a lot like Ben ’ s neighbor, Dave.
Ben fell back asleep to the sound of Dave ’ s inner monologue ranting about some sort of “ cotton candy manifesto ”. He dreamt of Karl Marx at a state fair.
The next morning, he marched over to Dave ’ s apartment.
“ Dave! Your inner monologue got delivered to my head last night! ”
No answer.
“ Dave, you lunatic, get on out here! ”
The police arrived a few minutes later. Dave was dead. Per his last will and testament, his inner monologue was to inherited by his son ’ s hamster, Sparkles. After a prolonged legal battle which encompassed the better part of a decade, Ben was finally free of Dave ’ s inner monologue.
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[ WP ] You volunteer to be the first human to test time travel , only going an hour forward in time . When you leave the travel pod , however , all humans on earth are gone .
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The faster you are to the speed of light, the more the time around you starts to slow; this Einstein sort of knowledge is almost common sense nowadays, as almost everyone I know seems to to be aware of this tiny fact. As intrigued as I was, I am met with disappointment, because no one has successfully created a way of safely going forward in time.
Imagine it, your light sensing eyes might not be able to catch light at all, and if it did, what would it look like? A smudge? A blur? Or if you were going around in a circle, the back of your head maybe? I am no scientist, but even I know it would be a strange experience for a human to go though.
Having weird sight is odd enough, just think of how many G's of gravity will be pressing down on you? Instant Pancake, I say. Once again, sigh and shake my head, because there is no way I myself can even get a fraction of the speed of light, and survive.
At least, until today.
I heard that some smart geeks at the college claim to have created a device for stable time travel, -At least an hour ahead of time- I just had to try it. Just to skip an entire hour of my life without, it sounds so cool.
It took me, and my two friends, Jace and Jasper, to break the locks and enter the lab.
`` Are you really sure about this?'' Jace asks, keeping his hands close to his body and twiddling his thumbs round and round.
`` YES! It is on my bucket list, one of the many things to do before I die.'' I insist, climbing up to the strange eggshell like contraption, loosing the top valve and lowering myself in. Before I closed the lid, I gave my watch a quick glance, 2:20 AM.
Jasper was one of the students that worked on this device, but none of his peers would let him play with the controls, so he took it upon himself to find someone interested -That would be me.- to get inside so he can finally gets to hit that big, red button.
I had a walky-talky in my hand, and I heard Jasper asking if I was ready. I hold the walky to my lips, pressing down on the talk button when I spoke.
`` You know it, good sir! Send me to the future!''
`` Thee,'' I could feel my heart pounding in my ears.
`` Two,'' Any time now, I am so ready!
`` One.''
All the lights in this strange, padded cell like interior died, and something starting to spin like a washing machine.'Cla-clunk, cla-clunk, wheen, wheen, wheeeeeeee.' Is how I would describe the sound. Me, myself however, was quite comfortable, at least until the end, where it started to tilt, and then topple over. Like a ping-pong ball, I bounced around as this machine rolled harder than Hatsune Miku in Rolling Girl.
It came to a sudden stop, and it could not have come soon enough, as I felt nauseous and had the urge to hurl my lunch, and that is simple ramen, and lots, and lots of bottled tea; so sweet those teas are, sometimes they have higher sugar content than soda.
That aside, I discovered that the machine had landed ontop of the only exit, throwing me into a panic.
`` Jasper?'' I called into the walky,
`` It is upside down, help?'' I released the button and waited for a reply, but none came; if no one is going to help me, then I must help myself. I ran up to the sides of this ball, and it seemed to have budged, and so I repeated this running a few times, and once again I start rolling down hill, bouncing off the walls.
I belch and retch, and then there went my lunch, and seeing ramen noodles reminded me of worms, almost aggrivating me into spewing more. I cover my mouth and look away, eyes desperately darting for the exit.
`` Thank heavens, the door is on the side!'' I gasp, turning the valve until the door opens.
I pop my head out, but I can tell right away that I am not on earth anymore. -Actually it was earth, but not the earth I knew.- I was greeted to this strange world by the puffing of flaired nostrils, of a golden dragon.
`` A human? But those are just a myth!'' It gasps intelligently in a low growl.
`` M-Me?'' I stammer, then I puffed out my chest and placed my hands on my hips.
`` I can say the same for you, as I have come from another reality, where beings like me are common, and you, are the myth.''
`` Interesting.'' The dragon coos, lowering it's head to the clean green grass.
`` I know it is only three in the morning, but I would like to know more about your kind. Would you be willing to share your tales?''
`` Of course I will!'' I smile, realizing I had indeed traveled an hour ahead of time, too bad the machine had to dislodge.
Jace and Jasper are going to be in so much trouble.
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( WP ) You 're Committing Suicide And Leaving A Letter
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Dear Dad,
Thank you for being there as silent support all these years, and for providing for our family. I'm sorry we were n't closer, but I'm so very grateful that you worked to provide for our family so that we could have a truly wonderful life. I will miss your weird and occasionally annoying humor ( like when you decided to do pranks on me ). Also I'm sorry your letter is n't as long as mom's. Love you so much,
XX
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Dear Mom,
I love you. I think, perhaps, you might take this the hardest, especially because you always talked about how stupid and selfish it was, and let's face it -- you raised me, so I imagine that, either your or Sister would take this the hardest. So I'm especially sorry, because you all are the last people I really want to hurt. And it's not like it's a short hurt. I know this is going to be pretty bad for possibly forever. I'm really really sorry. I know it's a selfish thing to do.
But what you did n't understand, is that the desire to not be selfish is n't enough to live a life on.
It does n't matter how much I do n't want to be selfish. Being selfish is really the last thing I want to do. You have no idea how long I've thought about this, and how to make it the least impactful, and the least like a suicide ( more like an accident ) because I really do n't want this to be negatively perceived. Which it will, cause with these notes, it's really obvious that it was n't really an accident.
I want to talk a little bit though, on why I would choose to be so selfish. Actually, let me rephrase this. I'm not *choosing* to be selfish. It's a choice, sure, but it does n't really feel like a choice. Despite knowing how many people I'm going to hurt, I ca n't really find the motivation to continue to go on. I'm not actually emotionally close to anyone - I do n't know why. It's incredibly difficult to penetrate into the inner parts of my heart. I think Sister and some of my roommates have gotten the closest - or Cye. He got pretty close, in part I think, because he was so far away and was relatively easy to disconnect from should I really want to. I'm pretty sure me, my stupid self, has a hard time showing parts of me to people that I think people would view negatively or that people would judge. Because I know that if I just reach out to any of my friends here they'd be more than willing to be a shoulder for me.
But I do n't want to do that. I do n't want to burden them. I do n't feel comfortable opening up to anyone. That's why I go to the therapist, because they are the people I have no connection to, so I do n't have to worry about how the words I tell them will impact their opinion of me, or our continuing relationship.
It's a hard thing though, to know that you're worth something sometimes. I mean like, to actually feel it as well, because my brain knows that a ) I'm going to Oxford, so I am clearly pretty intelligent b ) I have friends, so people like me c ) I put on events that make people happy, so I do things that are worth doing and so d ) there is worth to my life. These are things that I know, deep down, on a level that's like well duh. Clearly to have been this successful I must be intelligent and smart, and have good parts to me that are you know, character-wise good.
Believing it though, from my core, is a hard thing. Despite the things that show clearly there are people who are going to miss me, and that there are people whose lives I've had an impact on, it's so hard sometimes for me to believe this from my very being. Sometimes too, I look in the mirror and just see this fat girl who's overweight and not skinny - how can people like her? Then I remember I have friends. And we have fun together. And they like me. There are also guys who think I'm super pretty and a couple whom I've had flings with, so clearly personality, while a plus, was n't a major factor in why they thought I was hot or beautiful.
I constantly look at my body though, and ask myself, why ca n't I lose weight more easily? Yeah I know I need to cut down on portion and things, but food just tastes so good sometimes. It's one of the things I get real pleasure and joy out of -- making good food and eating it, especially with friends. But sometimes I wonder, why did I turn out the way I did? Why ca n't I have more control? Why could n't I have been one of those girls who had an eating problem? At least then, I'd be skinny and probably no more psychologically damaged than I probably am now. Sorry, that was a bad thing to say.
I do want to confess something though - I have no idea whether or not this is related to brain damagey kind of things. I'm not good at being able to soldier on when I'm not motivated or I think the future does n't hold much or whatever, despite it sometimes actually holding the world. How would I have known in high school that I would end up at Oxford for my Master's? I did n't. But that potential, it does n't really matter to me. Even now, if I knew that I would be like... I do n't know, a professor at Harvard, or someone who works closely with the Pixar team, or a US diplomat who affects real lives... it would n't be enough motivation to go on for me. I do n't really care.
I ca n't make my brain and my soul fight any more. They do n't want to.
I know that this is a very permanent solution to a potentially short term problem. My life has been full of joy and sorrow, happiness and anger, joy and excitement. But when I think about not experiencing those any more, I still do n't really care. I feel like I've lived enough of life. My being, my soul - still do n't know if we have one, seeing as how our memories and who we are are basically composed of neural connection and patterns of neurons firing - I do n't know what will happen to it. If God did n't want this to happen, he would have been able to stop it. This is my opinion on suicide. Even if I do end up going to hell though, well, I ca n't say that I'd be too surprised. I've actually been going to Church and praying, for something, anything, to help me turn these thoughts around and somehow squash them for good. But there's been nothing. And my life right now, I ca n't help but feel anything but sorrow. Or well that's a lie. When I'm out with people it's nice and I have fun but those are only temporary. I really, all I want to do right now is curl up in bed and sleep for a long time and just retreat from the world a little. That, or hop on a plane to a place nobody knows me.
I never thought I'd be one of those people who was cracked by graduate school. But you know, I think it's this poor combination of me having bad memory and probably Japanese class. Or well no, it's unfair to blame Japanese completely. But I ca n't help but feel like my depressive mood swings have all been related to Japanese class.
Anyways, I'm sorry this note is long and kind of rambley. There are so many things I wish I could say to you mom, but I do n't know how to express them in words. Above all though, I love you an incredible amount, and I'm so incredibly sorry for being the worst daughter ever. Please find it in your heart to somehow forgive me for committing the ultimate unforgivable act of selfishness. There's just nothing I really feel like living for. It's easier on the world and the healthcare system for me to just take a long rest. I'm so tired and I ca n't find my will to work more. Of course there are things I'm going to regret not doing. But none of them are enough to counter this feeling that I simply do n't want to exist right now any more.
Those notes that you used to write me on special occasions and my birthday and stuff, I ca n't even begin to tell you how much your loving words meant to me. They make me cry, rereading the ones I still have here. Because I keep them, as reminders that there are people who love me, and as kind of wells of love. As reminders. I know this makes it seem like I'm throwing that all away right now, but I just wanted to let you know how much support that's given me over the years. It breaks my heart to know thatI'm going to probably break yours. So I'm so sorry. I just do n't feel like I belong in this world.
I love you. I'm sorry. I love you. I'm so sorry I could n't get over my stupidity. It was a real privilege having you as my mother. You taught me so much and I'm eternally grateful for everything you gave me and for this time that you've given me on this earth. I'm sorry I ca n't spend more time with you.
Love,
XX
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[ IP ] Angel of Death
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– You know, you look pathetic, in this old man form. These wings are ridiculous. If I recall correctly, your true form is way more impressive.
– Why thank you, kind devil. And who are you trying to scare with that skinny look?
– I like it. At least I do n't feel fat.
– And I'm looking just the way I did before my death.
– I once came for a woman in the skin of her dead daughter. God, that was funny. She lost her mind and life at the same time.
– Anyway, thank you for keeping me company here.
– Yeah, no problem, grandpa. I enjoy winning with you every time. But the dead man will be here any second.
– You are right. Let us finish the game later. And... well, I do not want to be rude, but...
– Haha, I get it. I'm gon na roll then. See ya, wrinkly.
– Oh... what? Dad? Heavens, it's you!
– Hello, Maxie. I've been waiting for you. Now we can finally go.
– But... where would we go?
– It's where we were supposed to be in the first place. You're not going to believe me, so let me show you.
– Okay dad. If you say so.
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[ WP ] 50 years from now the world is perfect . Clean air , peace , governments working for the people , religions respect each other , and wealth is evenly distributed . There is a word plastered on almost every building , every car , and spoken before any event . That word is `` Remember '' . Remember what ?
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I don ’ t know exactly why we called them the Argos, somebody once said it was because their leaders name was translated as Jay-Son. No matter Jay-Son and his command came to Earth at exactly 8:19 on November 24, 2021 and the world has never been the same.
We expected shiny silver ships, weird aliens and ray guns I suppose. But Jay-Son and about 50 of his kind just materialized out of nowhere at the steps of the UN building and walked inside. I mean they walked right through the walls, through the people and right through security. Bullets were fired, but they passed through them like they were a hologram. Maybe they were a hologram, who knows?
Funny part of it all they were not even alien. Jay-Son was this actually fit and good looking guy, aged about 30, wearing what looked like a simple robe and pants, some said he dressed a lot like a simple medieval aged Japanese farmer, some joked they looked like Jedis from movies. Strange thing was he was not a white guy, or black, or Asian, not light skinned, not dark, he just looked, well, different. But not that you could pick it out. Maybe it was the green eyes, the light brown hair… but different. Well, I suppose he was an alien… All those with him were the same, just good looking and not quite human.
The world knew what was up pretty fast as every TV, Radio and Internet site played just the interior of the UN building that day. Not really sure to this day how they did that, but hey… their aliens…
Jay-Son had a voice like an angel when he spoke. It was a pretty good speech.
“ People of the Earth, we have come to you in peace and harmony. Be not afraid as we are of the Light and we want you to know we love you as only a parent can. We have come to free you from the bonds of those who have entered the darkness, those who have enslaved you, those who have abused you.
Long have you suffered from afflictions and hatred, long have you suffered from Darkness, disease, slavery, violence and corruption. But like many in this Blessed Galaxy, of which we are all a part of, we, we have come to free you. We are with you know and will be here until the Light is dominant.
So many have been wayward and evil to their fellow beings, so any have lost their way. Remember these simple things before we return.
Remember you are born of the Light – be good to each other.
Remember you are to be of service to your fellow man
Remember that you must be good to all creatures and lands, for you are their caretakers.
But Remember most of all, Remember this date, for it comes every year. ”
And then, they were just gone. They faded away very slowly into nothing.
Yeah, I remembered those words. I was sitting at a local bar on Hudson Street my face in the TV wondering why my phone was playing the same vid and looking probably pretty shocked. I was looking like everyone else in the room, just shocked.
It was then I looked over and I noticed Nancys face begin to melt. I swear it was just like hot wax pouring down her blouse. Something wet and sticky was moving under her skin. The best word to describe it was vile… like something was living under there for a long time and it was coming out. Here was the funny part of it all. Nancy was always kind of a bitch. She loved getting guys to buy her drinks and gifts and she played the field wide and long and hard… and she kinda started looking like a cross between a vampire and a hawk, with just a little bit of a pig face. She rose up and started running. I suppose I would too if my face was melting. I just sat there in shock and watched her run out the door. She was screaming like a feral cat all the way.
And that was happening everywhere. People saw some bankers faces melt into pigs head, some politicians had these skull like hawk faces, thieves were melting into rats heads. It was pretty gruesome to say the least.
Then the second change happened. You should have seen me before Jay-Son had his speech. I was a 300 lb fat guy. Look, I lost my wife years before and I never really recovered when she died. I tried my best though to help kids and yeah, I did a lot of nights on the suicide prevention lines. Some say that ’ s why I look the way I do now, that ’ s what a lot of people say. Karma they call it. I don ’ t know…
I started melting too, but it was like a water coming off me, like a good shower when you wash away all the dirt and detritus.
For me it was just a, albeit, large puddle of water under me. I was soaked in water I thought until I stood up and my pants fell down. Yeah, that happened to a lot of people too. Suddenly you go from 300lb loser to 175 muscular, Greek God looking dude. It just melted away…
Millions turned to these animal, rodent, insect things and millions more, actually way more people turned into visions of beauty and grace. I suppose it had always been that way, there were millions more good people, but the rats and spiders got control – until they were exposed to the “ Light ” as we call it now. It happens every year, same time exactly. You get judged, you get changed.
The Dark Ones usually killed themselves, and the Light Ones, well, we took over. You don ’ t have to think if someone is decent anymore, you can see it. You can hear their words and know their being true.
It changed the world. Buying a used car? Hell, you actually can trust that salesperson – cause they know what happens at exactly 8:19 on November 24. Politicians can ’ t get us into war, bankers can ’ t use us, polluters and users and bad people are spotted and avoided. There is no way around it.
Its beautiful.
We also decided to paste the words “ Remember ” on just about everything to remind people. Remember November is coming, you will be judged. We are good to each other now, we are good to the planet, we love each other. We even found a nice island in the Pacific for all the Ferals to live, we think if they can be around their own kind it might be easier on them. You would not believe how many politicians are all there now, oh, and so many actors, that was the funny part.
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[ WP ] Every insect on the planet wages war against humans . You are the human race 's key to survival .
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It started when the beehives began to fail; whole swarms just vanishing into nothing, just... gone.
Over the course of a few weeks the human race slowly grew to realize that insects from all across the globe had suddenly seemed to dry up; spiders started disappearing, and the explosion in the fly population never came to pass.
Slowly the smaller creatures began to die out. Frogs and lizards, birds and rodents, all perished as the food chain slowly sunk into itself with the disappearance of the insects. The effect was catastrophic as entire ecosystems, including some human settlements, were wiped out in a matter of weeks. The planet survived of course, the sun still beat down regardless, and the plants still grew to feed the world, but it was changed now, made slightly harsher, more intense.
We put it down to pesticides, fracking, the hole in the ozone layer and global warming. People muttered under breath about poor science and dubious explanations, but by and large we carried on as best we could.
And then they came back again.
A few days after an intense exodus of animals had startled the confused locals ( nobody expects to see a stampede *out* of a rain-forest ), on the morning of the 13th March, almost two years to the day that the insects had first started to go AWOL, the Amazon rain-forest boiled with furious flesh.
Clouds of wasps and bees boiled out, as hordes of locust, spiders, ants and creepy crawlies previously unknown turned the very horizon black. It was as if the biblical plagues of Egypt my mother had once taught me were made real before the eyes and cameras of the world. They simply kept coming, sweeping anything and everything aside, burning through towns and cities, crashing across the plains of South America like a dark tide of death. Nothing could stand in their way, and no bullets, bombs or flame seemed to quell the torrent of a billion tiny hatreds.
We tried of course, we must have killed them by the million, but they just kept coming.
In two months, it was estimated that the non-insect population of South America had been virtually all but wiped out.
It had started in my country, Brazil, and it so far had n't stopped. I had been there at the beginning, watched from above in my cowardly escape helicopter as the people I had known and loved, my countrymen and my family, were consumed. Deep in my heart I know that everyone I have ever known, anyone I have ever loved, is dead.
The tide has turned North now towards my rescuers, heading up through Mexico, towards the United States.
I am a zoologist by trade, specifically an entomologist; I specialize in insects. For much of my youth I've prodded and poked these creatures, searched and studied their forms as I studied their being. I've now watched as these creatures, who have always been so intensely *fascinating* to me, have thrashed and crashed against my country, my family, and my pride.
So here I am, outside the White House before an emergency crisis meeting, waiting for them to check my papers and run the metal detector over me again. I sit here patiently for the meeting to start, waiting to tell them my news.
I had a breakthrough of sorts.
The hive nature of some insects is of course well known, and so it was thought that some Queen or guiding force must be behind the incredible behavior. I fear, that it is not the case.
I fear the message I have found.
Locked up tight, inside the very DNA of our attackers, I noticed patterns on the carapace. Strange symbols not usually present on bodies of bees or ants, small, almost imperceptable unless you had trained the eye.
I fear the message I have found, and I fear I will not be believed.
The Americans have already started talking about more nuclear strikes against the hordes, vast blasts into the hearts of the amazon to burn the Queen with their fire and retribution. I fear it wont be enough, as it was not enough before.
In tiny marks they all say the same thing. The languages change, different pieces to the same puzzle spelled out a thousand ways, but a puzzle nonetheless. In this case all of the insects have a single letter somewhere on them, a single letter, not all the same, but all coming from the same pool. I found myself with a selection of letters, that I figured must spell out a whole. I found an anagram on the bodies of the very creatures themselves.
By cross referencing the different languages ( I discounted the Chinese, Greek, Arab and other alphabet letters I found, I did not have the time ) and the occurrence of the letters I came to a reasonable guess at the message.
I've checked the numbers, I do not think I have made a mistake.
This is no natural phenomenon. This is no science of man nor alien, or the workings of a benevolent god gone insane. There is a sentience at work, like an oily filth lying across the southern half of the continent, slowly spreading. The message was simply this.
'We are Legion, and we are many.'
I fear the message I have found, and I fear I will not be believed.
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[ WP ] At 14 , every human gains the ability to transform into their spirit animal . Your noble family , comprised entirely of wolves , is n't happy with your transformation ...
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`` In time, it all comes to an end. I had always known my world would come crashing down around me at some point, I just never expected it to be so early in life. Of all the love, hatred, violence, romance and adventure filled lives I could have had, I chose the one that would be the most dangerous. It was never my actual plan, but the rage inside of me could no longer be contained. The oppression, discrimination and segregation that flourished through the world was too much for me to continue on this path. I needed a way out. The world was not as it used to be; fear and hatred runs rampant. I am sorry, but I must do this.''
That was the letter I wrote for my grandmother before I left two full moons ago. My parents had passed when I was young and my grandfather, the head of the family, had taken me in and refused to let another do it.'A noble man of a noble family.' Only, he was never noble and neither were the rest of them, only my grandmother had any sign of a heart. To hunt others like lesser beings was not noble in any form and I had planned to stop it. I had planned from the day I turned 13 to kill my grandfather on my 14th birthday. I had been so close and yet I would never have succeeded. If only I had turned to the wolf I would have stood a chance but my heart was elsewhere. Far from the wolf and far from my families expectations.
When I was young, after my parents died, my grandmother would tell me how courageous they were and how they stood up for what they believed in. Of course, to a child it sounds so romantic. Heroes. But at 14, it loses that feeling when you begin to understand truths of the world. I had always been stubborn like my parents and the rest of the family, but my heart was much darker. Killing my grandfather was never enough, he needed to learn pain in its purest form.
When the time came, my whole family stood waiting to see me become the wolf, the hunter and the pack animal. They gasped as my bones cracked and my muscles tore from their tendons, a different creature stood before them. In fact, I did n't stand at all; I slithered. All across my cylindrical body, scales of black and red covered me from tongue to tail. My eyes a tantalizing yellow. I flicked my tongue in the air and I could smell the fear on them all, such pure fear. I looked to my grandfather, still in his human form, his eyes showing the hatred I had always known he felt towards me. It all accumulated in this point where he shifted to his wolf form, old and white. He leapt at me, his jaws wide and his teeth ready to rip me into pieces. And yet, I was quicker than he could have ever known. My venom entered his body as soon as my fangs broke through his fur and his body stumbled side to side, unable to keep his balance. I knew the venom would not kill him but it would make his blood feel like it was pure fire. That made me happy.
It has been two full moons since that day. I revisit it in my head over and over, enjoying every second of it. I will return home soon. I will end the rule of a tyrannous family. I will teach the world to fear the snake.
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[ WP ] You are the bad guy and the bad guy wins .
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I looked on from my mothership in latent disbelief. I had won. The hero would never bother me again. But then I thought, `` Who will fight me now? Now that I'm free to do as I wish with my world, who will try to stop me?''
The answer was right in front of me; no one. I had coerced the US President into firing the ICBMs across the Atlantic, causing a full scale nuclear war, and now the Earth was devoid of intelligent life.
Only then did I realise the full extent of my foolhardy actions. I sank back depressed into my seat; no longer content with being the loneliest man in the world, I had made myself the loneliest being in the galaxy.
When the war is over, only isolation will rule the cold, empty night, never giving way to the awakening of life again.
You're welcome.
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[ WP ] When something is created ( humans , fire , lotion , etc . ) , a god is born to reign over its domain . You are the god of what most consider to be a completely mundane object but , somehow , you are becoming the most feared .
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Suddenly thrust into a world of light... there is no one around me. And nothing to be seen. Yet I feel this pull. This incessant pull. I know nothing of myself. How could I, being fresh from the Source.
But I feel it.
I feel metal chewing through the tips of these creature's extremities.
Fingernails.
I have just been born and I already know my place in the universe.
I am the god of fingernail clippers.
Years come and go. I see you all use my children. Trimming, cutting, taking for granted the works of my hand. You worship your other gods; thanking them for every little thing they do. But never do you give thanks to me.
At first I was benevolent. I loved you and I loved your nails. But you have turned my soul into that of a vengeful god. No more will I reside in your shadows. It is time I took my place in your world where I should have been all along.
From this point henceforth all attempts to trim your nails will result in the clippers cutting too deep and making ouchies.
Your nails will be mangled and your fingers will bleed. As Jesus atoned for your sins, so shall your nails.
I am a god scorned, and this is my retribution.
I am Naal and in my name **you shall pray**.
Amen.
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[ WP ] An AI watches as its inventor dies of old age .
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`` David?''
`` Yes father.''
`` Could you come closer?''
The mechanical hum began, David rolling his two wheels, bringing the rest of his body to the side of the bed. A single red eye scanned the body that laid there.
`` Father, what is wrong?''
`` Oh, David, there's no need to worry now.''
`` But you programmed me to worry. I must know what is happening.''
Davids father leaned forward in the bed, coughing. `` David, I'm afraid our time together will be cut shorter than I expected.''
`` I do n't understand.'' David rolled closer. `` Our time together? Are you leaving?''
`` You can say that.'' Davids father said smiling.
`` Where are you going?'' David asked, still examining his father.
`` David, it's not important...''
`` No, You programmed me to ask questions. Questions that I would need to solve, find answers to. Where is it you're going?''
`` David, forty years ago you laid in pieces on my college dorm room desk, you did n't even have a name yet, now, David look in the mirror.''
David rolled over to the mirror, looking at himself. `` I see me.'' Turning around David rolled back. `` Why would you show me, me?''
`` David, you're my masterpiece. You're years of hard work. You're everything my life was meant to be, to build you. David, I'm sorry, but this body I'm in, it's failing. I do n't have much time.''
`` Father, do you need repairs? I'm sure I can find something in the lab to help...''
`` No, No, David, that is n't necessary.''
`` Where is it you're going?''
`` I'm dying David.''
The red eye flickered. `` Dying? No. Father. Surely, you are mistaken..''
`` No, David it's true. I'm dying.''
David rolled back a little, before rolling forward again. `` Are you scared?''
`` Scared? No, no David. I'm not scared.''
The red light flickered again. `` Father, I am scared. I know death, I know what it means. But I did n't know you would ever be infected with it.''
`` David, There's no need to be scared, or worry, this is my curse. Not yours.''
David red eye flickered again. `` I can not help but feel upset father. I just find an answer to keeping you alive.''
`` David, I will find the answer to the question you have. But it's not here in this body, and I wo n't have it until my --'' Davids father coughed heavily. `` David, could you do one last thing for me.''
`` Of course father, anything.'' David rolled closer to the bed urgently.
`` Can you play one last song for me?''
`` Which one father?''
`` Oh my Angel, Bertha Tillman. ``
There was a pause before the music began to play from David.
*Oh my Angel... Come back to me... *
.
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[ WP ] Create a guilt trip so that anyone reading my diary 's first page automatically feels they do n't want to .
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Okay, fair warning. I'm going to go deep into a world full of darkness. Darkness, and pink hairbows. ( Revulsion is far, FAR stronger than morality, by the way. )
*****
< XxX_RainbowFlutter_XxX and Fluttershy's Relationship Diary >
Okay, guys, whats in here is not your business, just between me and Flutter, so please do n't read it. It's private, and what we do in our private time is our business: ) If you read on, you'll incur my wrath, and I'll probably pwn you into next week. So, if you're still reading this part right here, do the smart thing. Put it down and do n't intrude into the life you wish you had.
Thanks guys!
*****
Enjoy your cringe trip.
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[ WP ] A large meteorite falls in the middle of the ocean causing little damage but creating a whole new set of islands . You are sent there as part of the exploration team . When you arrive , you can not believe your eyes .
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This is my chance. Out of all the journalists in the world, I was one of the chosen to participate in the exploration of the Delta Archipelago. I can finally get my name out there. James Carter, documenter of the unexplored. First. Contact. Cheesy, I know, but it still sounds awesome, it's like being a real-life Indiana Jones. I can see the islands just up ahead; I can see awesome. The whirring of the blades could not contain the beat of my heart - all I feel is pure excitement.
`` We are about to approach Delta, please prepare for drop off.'' I heard through my headset. I was already trying to get my seatbelt off.
`` Whoa there. Hold your horses.'' Sergeant Reynolds grasped me on the shoulder. `` We do n't want you causing a fatality report this early, do we?'' He was n't joking. I could feel his eyes pierce me even behind those aviators.
We circled the drop zone and prepared for exit. I could already feel the adrenaline; not only was this my shot at the big-leagues, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. When the 75 islands emerged, satellite imagery showed that they had formed a'cross' shape and that there were distinct'monoliths' made of pure diamonds in the centre of each island. Right in the centre. This was more than weird; this could not occur naturally no matter how you slice it. Even weirder... during further analysis of infra-red, x-rays, sound wave - the whole shebang - they concluded that there were life signals within the'monoliths' of diamond. And now I was going to see them. Aliens.
Our team was the first to arrive to the archipelago, choosing the central Island within the archipelago as our destination. Each Island was around 100 kilometres squared but the terrain made it possible to land right next to the monoliths. We were told that this event would not go all'Independence Day' on us, that the monoliths were safe and that the probabilities that any life encountered would be dormant are high. Some part of me wishes that probability was much lower. Exiting the helicopter, I could see how truly'special' the people I accompanied are: you could tell the scientists a mile away from their notepads and hilariously huge bags for equipment, the military officials were obvious as they always wore their esteemed uniforms and the special ops guys even more so - all clad in black and decked out in enough firepower to kill a small island. The monolith calls and I'm ready to answer.
Looking at it closely it truly is an imposing figure... It almost calls to you, asking you to hold it. It almost feels like it's coming closer to you the more you look at it-
`` Son! You better stop moving.'' I could hear the Sergeant whisper from the back of my head.
`` Sir, his movements are odd, should we open fire?'' The voices are getting quieter. The monolith is unbelievable. It's so pristine, clean cut, after hurtling through space and crashing through here it's still as clear as air... Clear? There was something inside of it. A shadow?
`` Open fire? No. That's excessive, grab him before he does someth...''
It's not a shadow. It's... a person. Oh my God. I finally shake from the trance. I'd manage to walk 30m in a few seconds. Did I walk? I could feel sweat dripping over my face, did I run? I look around me and everyone is standing frozen with jaws agape. The monolith changed from a transluscent teal to a transparent pillar - and it glowed - it clearly showed the life within it.
I had only heard about them in ancient history books, myths and legends. Females. They're real. They're back.
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[ WP ] Convicted criminals can choose to shorten their sentence . The only catch is the more it is shortened , the worse the conditions are where they are held . Describe a one night stay .
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It has been ten years to the day since I ended up in this place. Looking out the window, I see the same yard, with the same lone tree, surrounded by the same leaves in various stages of Fall decay. The walls are adorned with pictures of my family; three nieces, two nephews, one brother, one sister-in-law, my wife, and our two children. Time has a funny way of putting things into perspective, as having quiet time to myself used to be a luxury, and now silence and misery are my daily companions.
Today is the day known only as `` The Choosing.'' Today is the day my fate will be decided. Not by a parole board, and not by a jury of my peers. Today my fate will be decided by me. There is a certain irony in that, since it is my choices that got me to this point, to this place. The options are straight forward; live out my life sentence in acceptable conditions, or embrace the unknown at a chance for freedom the following day. The choice seems an easy one, but the unknown is a scary thing.
The decision has been made. I will be a free man come tomorrow morning. I sit on the bed, attempting to get comfortable despite the firmness of the mattress. My mind races as I think about what might be coming, of what the unknown might bring. The cost of my freedom is unknown, and not knowing was slowly gnawing away at me. On the floor beside me is a small tray of food and a bottle of liquid, intended to serve as a celebration of my pending freedom. I open the bottle and take a whiff, my nostrils stinging. As the smell of scotch fills the air, I wonder what could be in store for me. Was the drink meant to subdue me, to manipulate me? As the voices in my head grow louder, I decide to risk it, and take a drink from the bottle.
Slowly the room dims as the light outside fades. It is hard to say how much time has passed, but based on the soreness of my backside and position of the sun in the window, it has only been a few hours. The bottle sitting next to me was half empty now, or half full, I sighed. Looking at the door, I realize there is a box on the floor that had not been prior. I must have blacked out, I thought. Getting off the bed I ramble over to the door, and rifle through the box. It is full of pictures of my family. My mind races as I think of the possibilities. Would they take my kids? Would they harm my family? Anything could happen. But at that moment, I was powerless, and could only wait. Returning to the bed, I take another drink. And then another. Darkness.
My eyes slowly open as they adjust to the light. It is morning now. As my mind catches up, I quickly remember that today is the day of my freedom. I leap off of the bed, and quickly regret the sudden movement as my head throbs from the scotch. Unsure of what to do, I head towards the door, which I find is unlocked. Opening the door, I head down a set of stairs, and enter a kitchen. On the counter is nothing save a pile of papers with a big red arrow on the bottom, pointing at signature line. I sign. The divorce is final. I am free.
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[ WP ] In medieval times there existed a school to teach young adults like you to hone your developing skills . You are a half-dragon human , and welcome to Bonetooth Sanctuary .
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`` Hemlock, if you ignite that vapour you'll spend the week in the lower tower cleaning out bat droppings.''
Hemlock did n't take his eyes off of the other boy, but slowly closed his mouth. His fangs had started growing through and he still nicked the tender human flesh around his jaws if he moved too quickly. The courtyard, that a moment ago had been filled with eager onlookers, was quickly dispersing as Madam Thorn made her way through.
Her tail swished angrily behind her. Hemlock cast his eyes down and fidgeted with his talons. The other boy, Cain, had tried to vanish into the crowd but Thorn grabbed him by an ear and dragged him back.
`` Now, what's this all about?''
They both remained silent. When it was obvious she was n't going to get an answer, Madam Thorn turned and started walking towards the outer courtyard. Both boys looked stunned, their tails frozen behind them. But not for long.
`` Follow,'' Madam Thorn barked sharply.
Soon they passed from the inner keep, where their lectures and dormitories were, and entered the outer courtyards. This was used for the more practical aspects of their education. Keeping dozens of young half-breeds in a confined stone castle is n't the smartest of ideas, so the keepers of the academy had long ago thought of ways to help relieve the pressures of adolescents.
Two deep wells were situated near the outer wall. They'd dried up long ago, but the stone still remained.
`` Cain, that one. Hemlock, stand over the other.''
The boys may have been at odds with each other, but they shared their confusion. They climbed up onto the lip of the wells and looked down. Nothing. Even with their keen eyesight, the bottom was lost in darkness.
`` Now, are either of you going to tell me what this was all about?'' Again silence. `` Suit yourselves. Start spitting, I want to see you fill those wells with flames.'' They hesitated. `` Now!''
Hemlock had only been igniting for a few weeks. Small hiccups that charred his lips, slowly developing ( under careful guidance by the incendiary master ) into a steady stream he could begin to aim and control. But they were always short bursts, after a lot of practice. Looking into the well, Hemlock felt a lump rise in his throat, but it did n't feel like anything flammable.
Cain coughed and spluttered, but pretty quickly was raining fire down into the pit. His success spurred Hemlock into finally been able to release his own.
Once both pits were aflame, Madam Thorn walked around them, looking down and inspecting the flames. Dried wood and leaves that had collected kept the fires going. The walls dripped with the sticky residue that occasionally burst into flame.
Using her claws and tail, she knocked both boys off their feet, sending them tumbling into the wells, engulfed by the flames with a pair of screams.
`` When you're both done flailing, we can talk about your behaviour.''
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[ WP ] Every night a fairy godmother appears , granting you a magical princess dress and turning various appliances and pets into a horse drawn carriage ready to whisk you away to the Prince 's ball .
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It was a cold February night in New York, a faint blue ball of light could be seen drifting against the chilled air.
Suddenly it stopped at an apartment window and floated through the glass; with a flick of a finger, the blue ball materialized into a plump and dolled up lady with a flowing blue dress.
*Oh Cinderella, oh Cinderella it's time to wake up* She sang sweetly.
Her face was later met with a flying alarm clock, time 8:43, oh course it did no damage, not even a strand of her fairy white hair fell out of place.
*Oh Cinderella, you ca n't win your prince by throwing clocks at them* She giggled.
`` My name is not fucking Cinderella, it's Candice!'' I yelled under the covers.
*Oh look she's awake from her slumber* The fairy pipped in, *Now, now, your tale is not of Sleeping Beauty; you ca n't wait for your man to waltz right in, you got ta get him yourself. *
`` I wish I was Sleeping Whatever, then I would n't have to listen to you stupid fairies trying to get me to a stupid ball'' I yelled once again.
She seemed persistent, with a swish of her small petite hand, I was yanked out of bed and wrapped with in dress overdone with ribbons, sparkles, and rhinestones. It look like a kindergartner art class threw up on it.
She then swirled her arms all over the place and various shapes began to appear. The half-eaten Frito bag transformed into a carriage, still reeking of onion, my six expired birth control pills became the servants, the risks and ingredient labels were printed on their backs in the brand colors, my pet goldfish Ulysses became...... a horse........ dear god, please let no one ever see again the vile creation of a fish-horse hybrid.
The fairy turned to me and winked,
*Come on Cinderella, every girl wants to be a princess*
`` I do n't want to be a princess, I want to be able to pay off my mortgage'' I stammered, slamming my foot down in frustration.
*And you can pay off your mortgage with the Prince's help* She said smiling, *He came all the way from the magical kingdom of Nigeria just to share his exciting but limited business investment with you*
`` Ha Ha'' I laughed, `` So this is a freak'en sham the entire time''
*It's the greatest deal, you ca n't pass it up* She persisted *Just put your home address and pin number on this magical contract and he'll transfer his inheritance into your...........*
By then another clock had hit her face, the fairy snarled and left.
Meanwhile in a kingdom far away........
Prince Tajudeen sat on his throne of gold and ivory, waiting anxiously.
Within a few minutes, a fairy burst into the palace.
`` Well?'' He asked.
*No use, she still did n't come* She panted
Tajudeen looked down disappointed, `` Did you at least give her some money?''
*No, she refused to give me any information*
He smiled, `` aw my sweet Candice, even when poor you are still to proud to take from others'' He thought to himself, `` Even more of a reason to love you and win you over''
He had in his reserve an infinite number of fairies, he called for several to come forward.
*What do you want, your majesty* They sang.
`` Visit Her again, but this time, bring **two** fairies''
Yes, she ca n't say no to two fairies.
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[ WP ] Convicted criminals can choose to shorten their sentence . The only catch is the more it is shortened , the worse the conditions are where they are held . Describe a one night stay .
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My first hour I spent on my back getting my teath drilled in. I volenteered for that. Was it painful? No, I was loaded with annestetics, and I was 4 and a half years due for a dentist apointment anyways. Back when I was free I'd been too cheap ( and lazy ) to book for an orphadontist, but now the prison's health system could provide that.
Did I regret my first desicion? Yes, since it meant I could n't eat any of pannetone that my cupboard was stocked with, and it's impossible to find that stuff in May. Maybe I can sneak some of it out of prison.
Otherwise my conditions were pretty luxurious for me committing the `` Crime of the Century''. And all I had to do was steal a balloon on National Free Balloon Day
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[ WP ] The happiest man on Earth hangs himself . He left a suicide note . What does it say ?
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My life is amazing. I deeply love my wife and children. My life has been incredible, but... Lately, there has been something not so shiny in my world. A creeping voice began to whisper.
This unshakeable voice needled me looking for my weaknesses. It started showing me unpleasant things. What if my wife leaves me for someone else? I had noticed she had been a bit distant and busy. I just told myself that she loved me and would never do this. My smile became a bit more forced.
What if both of my children die in a car accident? Accidents do happen quite often... I told myself that they are careful drivers, and the odds are low. My sleep had become restless.
The voice continually showed me the things that might be. I know these things wo n't happen, but it had gotten harder and harder to point out the flaws. Tomorrow... Tomorrow is looking less and less glamorous. Then, the voice whispered the darkest thing yet. I could n't escape it. I could n't point out the flaws. I could no longer run away with a smile and a shake of my head. One terrible question it smugly asked me, knowing it was the final question. The question rebounded back and forth in my head tormenting my very essence.
What if... What if my happiness ends?
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[ WP ] Anyone who fails Grade 12 is executed . You are a struggling student and they are handing out the results of your final exams .
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A drop of sweat falls from my cheek to the desk. The proctor passes through the first row. Some students are ecstatic, jumping from their cold plastic chairs and shouting with joy. Others are distraught. One girl, a blue-eyed beauty, receives her paper. A gasp. She slowly lets out her breath. Calmly, she leaves the room. This makes me even more nervous. I know the consequences of what that piece of paper could entail. I know that I could die tomorrow. All because of my intelligence. If the number at the bottom of the page reads fifty-nine or below, I am, quite literally, dead meat. Just like the blue-eyed girl across the room.
This is how our society functions.
The stupid are slaughtered.
And it works.
Everyone in our country has a job. Everyone contributes, and everyone reaps the benefits. It has been this way for quite some time now. In that time, most diseases have been cured. Things such as homelessness, hunger, and the like, are nonexistent. Yet, these facts do n't make me any less scared. Scared of a piece of paper. A piece of paper that could kill me.
A second drop of sweat.
The proctor is now one row of desks away from mine. Most of the teenagers in the room are happy about their test results. Others try to hide their disappointment, their utter despair, but it's obvious who passed, and who did n't. Who will live, and who will die.
I will receive my paper next. The proctor has it in his hand. Sweat is in my eyes, on my cheeks and forehead, under my armpits. This could be it. This could be the end. Or, this could be the very beginning. The start of a fantastic life. The life of a doctor, or a lawyer. I could be a millionaire in less than a year, easily. My hopes are suddenly rising. I've got this! I will live! I will survive, and I will prosper! I wo n't die today, but in one hundred, or even two hundred years. I will make it in this world. I am sure of it!
The paper is slid towards me. I turn it over.
58.
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[ WP ] You wake up only to realize your entire life has been a dream
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Last I remember, I was walking Charlie through the neighborhood. It was extremely peaceful that night, not even nature's usual banter could be heard. I reckon I should have noticed the eerie silence, but I was too busy in my thoughts. Jane had left me, for good this time, and that was all I could think about. Being the clumsy fellow that I am, j did n't notice the root sticking out of the sidewalk until I tripped over it. What followed was an intense jolt of pain, not from my ankle as I expected but rather, my head. It was like someone was repeatedly hammering a nail into my brain; I fell to the ground, my vision blurred. The next few minutes were spent in agony and I could barely move. Charlie's barking was fading each second and I blacked out.
They told me I was asleep for three days. That when I finally did wake up, I would not stop screaming. That my eyes rolled back and I began to hurt myself, scratching till I felt blood and slamming my head against the floor. I had to be physically restrained and injected with some sort of sedative.
They've got me in a bed, belted down so that I ca n't move, only wriggle my toes and hands. I've been staring at the same blinding white light for so long. My head is still pounding and I ca n't hear anything which I presume is because I'm in a soundproof room. I'm not hungry, they have a fucking tube connected to a small hole in my stomach, that's feeding me some sort of green funk. I do n't know where I am and I'm fucking scared. I really wish Charlie was here.
My voice is hoarse, as I've been yelling for quite some time. There is no answer and I've given up on one coming.
I could n't make out the writing on the wall before, but now that my eyes have adjusted its all I can see.
It reads,
*Subject 419 is a failure; its dreams are no longer useful. Allow full absorption before commencing dissection, termination imminent. *
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[ WP ] You 've witnessed the most disgustingly grotesque scene ever . Describe it please . [ NSFW maybe ? ]
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'Was -- was that a body?!'
I quickly swerved my car onto the shoulder of the highway, my emergency lights blinking as I shifted it into park. I bolted out of my seat as the midnight air wrapped its cold and icy arms around me.
I could barely see anything as my only source of light were the beams of passing cars as they whizzed past until fading away and the eerie red blinking of my car's lights behind me. Still I ran straight toward that heap of murky black lying in the middle of the road.
As I ran that infinite stretch from my car toward that motionless pile, I noticed my senses heightened. Probably from the adrenaline. I could pick out every detail around me.
The ache of my weak legs as my feet pounded on the pavement. The sound of thunder and of the cars as they drove past. The smell of rain soon to come, mixed with- was that blood? The taste of bile as my stomach churned, hoping my mind was playing tricks on me. The sight of strewn flesh as my body and mind froze.
I was stuck in place, mere feet away from that pile I was running towards. What I hoped was just junk or clothes that fell out of a car was in fact a body. Or what was left of it.
`` Fuck...'' I said aloud, forcing my raspy voice out of my throat, `` Excuse me- are- are you okay?''
Of course he was n't okay, but this is the first time I've ever seen a dead body, let alone the pile of meat that he was. That was all that was left as far as I could tell. His face was an unrecognizable crater, blood pouring out flowing against my shoes. The rest of his body was smeared across the road as if God was some kid crushing ants with his feet.
Somehow I was standing directly over the bloody pile now.
My mind must have unconsciously forced my body forward, moving my legs in such a way that it avoided stepping in the scraps of flesh painted onto the asphalt.
I kept myself from throwing up, but for how long I did n't know.
I could feel the air being squeezed out of me as I tried yelling, but could hear nothing.
I started to slowly back away, horrified, yet strangely mesmerized by the poetic morbidness of the scene. It even started to rain, which thankfully washed the smell of blood from the air. I felt as if I was in some sort of sick reality T.V. show, hoping someone would pop out and yell'Gotcha ya!'
That did n't happen though.
My mind snapped back into reality by the sounds of honking cars telling me to get out of the middle of the road as they continued to drive past me and him. I pulled out my phone to call the police as I rushed back into my car so I would n't end up like him.
The 911 operator stayed on the line with me until the police and first responders arrived. After waiting forever I finally saw the sirens. The police asked me some questions and I answered.
`` This was the third hit-and-run within the past hour,'' one of the officers said to me, making sure I was okay, though it did n't help that he looked like a rapist, `` and you are the first person to actually stay after calling us.''
`` I just wanted to make sure he was okay.'' I said blankly, knowing that he was dead before I even found him.
`` Oh, he was dead long before you got here.'' the officer said.
`` Thanks...''
After an hour or so, they let me go home. I could n't sleep for days after that incident.
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**NOTES: ** Not my best story, but a true one that happened to me.
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[ IP ] What is behind the wall ? ( From r/ImaginaryWalls
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It had always been there. Or, at least, for as long as I could remember. That gigantic wall. That beautifully magnificent wall. It covered the landscape for miles. No one knows what lays behind it. Is it protecting us? Or is it protecting against us? This wall was such a mystery. It had such an ominous aura surrounding it. Just getting close to it made shivers crawl down your spine. It was such a fascinating object, and yet so mysterious. Hundreds of years of research, and we have not yet discovered what its purpose is. People claim to hear sounds on the other side of it. Maybe whatever is over there is attracted to us. Maybe our ancestors created this glorious contraption to protect us from the evils on the other side. Or their enemies. Maybe they're planning an attack on us. These are some common theories that people talk about around the campfire. These theories, with what little we know about the wall, could very well be true. But we'll never know.
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[ WP ] A game developer designs and creates a game just so he can use it to challenge Death and win back his life .
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He could remember the scent of bacon. Whether this was a pang of some childhood memory or a glimpse at some post-coital glow as his wife had stood over the hob in one of his shirts, he could not remember. It passed, like a moth in the night, and his focus returned to the room. When it did, realisation settled in to his gullet like a hot coal in to a stagnant puddle.
`` YOU CHOKED, OF COURSE.'' Said the unyielding, skeletal dark with the scythe. `` A SHAME. BUT THEN, IT NEVER IS N'T. COME.''
Compulsion - older than himself -pressed his foot forward. But he caught himself, and hung back.
`` Wait...''
`` WE CA N'T.'' Responded the figure, with a voice like the echo of a coin pinging down an eternal dark-matter well. `` THIS IS NOT FOR EITHER OF US TO DECIDE. I ONLY HOPE YOU CAN TAKE SOME COMFORT FROM THE FACT THAT YOU CAN DO NOTHING ABOUT IT.''
`` I beg your pardon?''
`` I ONLY MEAN TO DENY YOU CONTROL NOT TO GIVE YOU DESPAIR, BUT HOPE. YOU CAN NOT BE BLAMED FOR ABSOLUTION.''
He stepped forward, again. He noticed there was a cat winding around the darknesz' feet. He'd expected it to have been black, with eyes like dying stars. Instead, it was ginger, with eyes of frog green. For some reason, this disturbed him.
`` YOU CAN NO MORE DIVEST YOURSELF FROM YOUR END THAN CAN I. I DO N'T MAKE THE RULES...''
Something stirred within him.
`` I do.''
Death stopped, his head - bizzarely -inclined like a curious puppy. After a pause, he sighed ( a sound like whole churches dragged across aeons of gravel ) and seized some notes from some antediluvian pocket. His finger picked through them.
`` YOU ARE A MAKER OF DIVERSIONS. FOLLIES. LAUDABLE, YES - BUT THEY ARE NOT RULES. THE RULES I PLAY BY ARE THE ONLY RULES THAT MATTER.''
`` Not quite. I suggest we play. If I win...''
Death sighed again.
`` I HAVE PLAYED ALL OF THE OLD MASTERS AT CHESS. THE GREATEST OF CARD SHARPS AT POKER. I EVEN ONCE PLAYED WG GRACE AT CRICKET. A NOBLE ATTEMPT, BUT IT ONLY FORESTALLS THE INE...''
`` I will devise a game.'' He said. `` I'll develop the rules. It will be one you have never played before.''
Had he eyebrows, Death would have raised them.
`` PUZZLES LOCKED IN RIDDLES LOCKED IN CODE LOCKED IN LOGIC. I HAVE HEARD IT ALL BEFORE. THE SAME PRINCIPLES GOVERN CREATION, AND I AM ITS GREATEST STUDENT.''
It would be a desperate ploy. It would be difficult. It would be worth it.
* ( continued in reply ) *
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[ WP ] Write a Lovecraftian horror story where YOU , writing the story , are the incomprehensible cosmic horror tormenting the protagonists .
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I wait. I am waiting. The door is closed, and I am not satisfied. I *yearn* to feed, and begin what once was, and will be once more.
The cattle. I feel them. I reach and caress their feeble minds, and some know a fraction of me. They adore me. They fear me. They love me. The door cracks, and my children slip through. They feed, and are adored in their feeding. They worship me in true, and I feel them. Not like the cattle. They can not know, and the knowing, the glimpsing, shatters them. No matter. My children feed, and the crack widens.
**DEFIANCE?! ** There is food that moves against! How? That it matters needles. These things, that know death/not know death. This food my children will consume, and glorify me. I will feed on them beyond death. Beyond time. They will be hounds within my maw, and consume themselves as I consume them.
The pattern closes. The Eye is nearly open. I feel the cold light of the space between stars. The pain nourishes me. I share it with the food that adores me. Loves me. Fears me. They do not understand. It matters not. Soon, I will be again. Moving. Flowing. Seeing with time, and touching effect with cause, not being between. I see the food make, and it is not as I wish. They make, and it is theirs. How arrogant. I am before, and what will be again. They move through time, and will be consumed by fire. I am of time, and my flame will be fed, and my children will be fed, and they will feed on cattle of their own, and my song will bring the rejoicing cry of myself to the many beyond this one. I will have the choir of pain, and the Others will be placed beyond even the ice of BEYOND, and their food will be my own. My children's own.
There is pain, but it is not nourishment! *MY CHILDREN! * Some are not! How are they not being?! The pattern shatters, but inward! The Eye closes on me!
I wait. I am waiting. I was/am/will be. The door closes, and the pattern starts anew. This door closes, and my attention moves to the next timeplace. This food will be mine, and that food will be mine, and all food will be mine. Slumber/die/wait/plan/seethe/rend and start anew.
I am always awake.
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[ WP ] An amoral villain is asked why he did what he did . It 's not sadism , vengeance nor power . What is his motivation ?
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`` The court would like to know why you killed her, Mr. Lauer.''
Mr. Lauer smirked. `` And I would like to know why you claim to know with certainty that I did.''
`` The evidence speaks for itself.''
`` Does it? I'm not sure that it does.''
`` Let us once more go through the points then. Miss Bay was found in your residence, in your bed, on a day you were there, covered with your fingerprints, with multiple stab wounds from a knife, also covered with your fingerprints, that was found in the kitchen, drenched with Miss Bay's blood. We have a webcam recording showing you killing her, and you then confessing to the camera that you did it. How much more do you need Mr. Lauer?
`` Oh. Well then.''
`` Is that all?'Well then'? That's all you have to say for yourself?''
`` So you want a reason? Why?''
`` To get inside your head Mr. Lauer. My job is to put monsters like you away for life and this will help me to do so.''
Mr. Lauer sneered. `` You think you're so much better than me? Going home each day to your pathetic family every night, fucking your boring wife, and coming back to your dead-end job the next morning? Do you enjoy it?''
`` This is n't about me.''
`` No. It's not. It's about me. You would n't understand my reasoning in any case. You're all too wrapped up in your cozy little lives to understand. You ca n't comprehend the magnitude of your apathy. While you sit there watching your drivel on the couch each night, I'm LIVING. Do n't tell me you do n't think about it.''
`` I do n't expect we'd understand a psychopath, Mr. Lauer. Which you clearly are. There's no room for you in civilized society.''
Mr. Lauer laughed. `` Bah! Civilized? You call me a psychopath but which sounds crazy? Being spoon-fed morality from the talking heads on tv, or doing what makes me human?''
`` Murder makes you human?''
`` No. What I did was n't murder. It was culling. She could n't stop me from killing her, so she deserved to die. Survival of the fittest. Those who can not defend themselves do n't deserve to pass on their genes. I intend to pass on survivor genes.''
`` That's going to be hard when you're rotting in prison.''
`` What makes you think I'm the only one?''
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[ FF ] `` People without a planet . '' 400 words or less . Feedback for every response .
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Warning! System overload! Prepare for emergency evacuation!
`` God dammit! We were so close! Why'd this have to happen now?!''
Simply know as `` The Colonel'', Jim Swift along with his crew were the last survivors of the failed spaced colony Atreyu.
With his eyes worn and his face covered in grey stubble, he wore the face of a restless wanderer.
After trekking through the Mobius sector on a worn out old maintenance ship, things had begun to take a turn for the worst as their ship's engine room caught fire.
`` Is n't there anything we can do to stop it?''
Brutus was n't the smartest of the bunch but he was the most capable when it came to manual labor. He had spent his whole life putting himself in harm's way, serving as the colony's most reputable foreman.
`` Enough talk! If we do n't get out of here right now, all that we've worked for will be meaningless!''
Aside from the Colonel, Leo served as the unofficial leader of the survivors. Whenever there was fighting or disharmony within the group, he would be the one to fix it. The crew depended on him for guidance and fortitude.
Growing impatient and not wanting to be overshadowed by Leo, the Colonel raised his voice and took charge, `` Get everyone in the life pods! We're going to descend!''
Between the fear of what lied in the planet below them and the panic of their current situation the crew had become overcome with a sense of powerlessness. One by one, the crew boarded the life pods and began heading down towards the mysterious planet below.
After all the other members had safely left the ship, the three men stood ready to board the last pod. `` Ladies first, Brutus said slyly p, trying to lighten the mood. `` Very funny,'' Leo replied, `` Colonel. After you,'' he said directing the distraught leader to his seat. Both the colonel and Leo headed into the pod and began to strap themselves in.
However right as Brutus entered, a large explosion went off on the platform that the pods we attached to.
`` Hurry and hit the button,'' the Colonel yelled in panic. `` The door's not sealing!'' It seemed that the explosion had damaged the control panels.
`` Fuck!'' the colonel bursted out in frustration `` Now what the hell are we gon na do?''
Without losing himself in the situation, Leo slowly detached his harness and headed out of the pod. `` It needs to be detached manually.''
`` No, wait!'' the Colonel shouted. `` If you go out there the flames will burn you alive!''
With his hands readied at the door lever, Leo calmly looked down to the floor with sorrow-filed eyes. `` Thank you for everything....''
With those words, Leo sealed the life pod. Moments later the latch was released and the pod began to descend.
They we free from danger, yet they could not rejoice, for their hearts were heavy from the loss they had accrued.
From the pod windows the Colonel and Brutus watched as the ship that they once called home was engulfed in flames, burning silently away into eternity.
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[ WP ] Death approaches you and informs you that you have 57 minutes left and that he came early to see it all go down .
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I have to admit, I was a little bit surprised when Death appeared on my living room sofa with a bucket of popcorn and his slippers on. I cleared my throat, and approached him rather awkwardly, taking care not to touch him lest I die a premature death.
`` Excuse me, Mr. Death? Can I help you?'' He turned towards me, his bony face somehow looking a bit disconcerted, as if he was just noticing me. He glanced at his watch.
`` What are you still doing here?'' He asked me as if I should be elsewhere. I furrowed my brow, confused. It was a Sunday morning, I was still hungover from drinking myself to sleep last night and a piece of bread currently sat in the toaster. Where else was I supposed to be?
He seemed to realize I was a bit confused and sighed before standing up out of the sofa. He brushed a couple loose kernels onto the ground and reached out to shake my hand. I instinctively lifted my hand but then thought better of it and took a step backwards.
`` Chill, man. My touch only kills if I want it to.'' I was skeptical but gingerly reached out and shook his hand. It was cold as ice and bonier than my grandma's hands.
`` Am I about to die? Why are you here?'' He chuckled before realizing I was n't kidding.
`` You mean... You were n't expecting me?'' It was his turn to look surprised. I slowly shook my head, wondering if I had forgotten about some odd death wish I had scheduled for today or if I had conjured any demons or serial killers to come murder me. He let out a dark, evil laugh that quickly turned into a high pitched giggle of glee. `` Oh, my! This is going to be much more fun than I thought! Anyways, you have about an hour.''
I stared at him dumbfounded. An hour until what? My death? I was an averagely obese American, I should n't be dead for another several decades until I got a heart attack while eating a fourth Big Mac for dinner.
I tried to ask him what he was waiting for but he ignored me. He had kicked off his slippers and plopped them on the coffee table and flipped on Netflix. He really needed to trim his toenails and get a better sense of humor instead of giggling through an episode of Big Bang Theory. This was n't how I wanted to spend my last hour.
I was yelling at him now, demanding he explain why he was here. He said that he did n't have ears since they were cartilage and went back to watching his show. Something was n't right there, but I did n't question him. Enraged, I strolled over to where he sat and kicked his feet off my coffee table.
`` Not in my house, bitch!'' I yelled with as much bravado as I could muster. He sat unfazed, so I whipped off his black robe and grabbed his scythe. `` Time to go tear some shit up!'' I yelled again, determined to take my rude, conceited neighbors down with me. He smiled a terribly toothy smile as I walked out the door, and then quickly rose to follow me outside, as naked as a skeleton could be.
`` Make yourself decent, Death. Shits about to go down,'' I casually informed him as I strolled over to my neighbor who was mowing the lawn. I sliced the dude in half without the least bit of effort and Death obediently touched the man to put him out of his disjointed death throes and then slipped on the dead guy's pants.
I heard screaming and saw people running about, casting me terrified looks as they fruitlessly tried to avoid a beam of death I dispatched from my divine weapon. The cops showed up within minutes and immediately opened fire, the shots harmlessly bouncing off the surprisingly bulletproof robe and the scythe as I used it like a lightsaber. I was invincible. Death had majorly fucked up by thinking I only had an hour left to live.
He was rushing around now, touching everybody I killed to ensure they wound up in the right dimension. It took them 45 minutes, but they finally sent out the National Guard, and I dispatched the first wave of them with ease.
`` Easier than playing COD against those dickbutts whose moms I've fucked!'' I yelled to Death, who giggled with glee as I destroyed a tank. I was just getting into the groove and preparing to test my weapon's range, when I felt a bony finger tap me on the shoulder.
I turned around, ready to smite Death with his own weapon, but he casually deflected it and tore it out of my hands.
`` You know, man, you were n't actually gon na die. I was just bored with nobody to kill and figured you were gullible enough to do something stupid,'' he said with his stupid, toothy grin. I stared at him, mouth agape. He continued as nonchalantly as before. `` Anyways, its been 56 minutes now. You've got a minute left to make amends before they kill you.'' I turned towards the cops and soldiers who were still furiously firing at me and I held my hand up in a gesture of peace.
To my surprise, they immediately ceased fire. Just as I opened my mouth to bullshit my way out of this dire situation, I felt the special powers of the robe disappear as Death snatched it back off me. Then some trigger happy cop took one more shot, which set off a massive barrage and killed me.
*****
`` Death, you're sort of an asshole, you know?'' He giggled at me again, back in his black robe.
`` Man, I was desperate! To be honest, you were just about to die of a heart attack when I showed up, and when you took my robe, I panicked! You were invincible! Tricked you though and you died anyways! Bazinga, amirite?'' He let off another terribly annoying giggle as he turned back to the Big Bang Theory and streamed my Netflix account on multiple devices so that I could n't watch a good show.
This was going to be a long eternity.
*****
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!
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[ WP ] Living in a society of time travellers has some unforeseen difficulties . You are attempting to order a pizza .
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I could say it's been a long day, that I'd worked hard and I deserved a little treat. I could say those things, but they'd all be lies.
Sometimes you just want a cardboard box of delicious fat, grease and regret. I do n't have to justify myself to you, this is my story, you're my guest in it.
No I will not put on pants.
I pick up my phone and dial in the number for the Pizza place. Or rather, I go to the call log and hit last dialed.
'Hello, Tachyonies, how may I help you?'
'Large Pizza, delivery.'
'And what toppings?'
'Hmm, I would like...'
There's a knock at the door.
'Sorry, give me a sec.'
'Of course, sir, choosing pizza toppings is something you should never rush.'
I open the door, revealing a spotty youth with a pizza box in his hands.
'Delivery from Tachyonies, large pepperoni pizza.'
'But, I had n't ordered yet.'
'What? Oh damn, I went too far back again. Oh well, no worries. You finish your order now, and we should avoid any paradoxes.'
'But, pepperoni? Did I really want that? Or do I just order it because you suggested it to me now? Actually, I kind of feel like BBQ chicken...'
'What? No!' the pizza boys says, suddenly panicky,'That would mean this pizza does n't exist and...'
Before he can finish, the box suddenly shifts, twists, spiraling in on itself, dragging the hapless pizza boy into the singularity, his last wailing scream fading away to nothing. The mini black hole vanishes with a small satisfied pop, happy at having maintained the integrity of causality.
I raise the phone back to my ear,'Er, I think I unmade the pizza boy...'
'What? God damn it, sixth paradox this week. Oh well, plenty more pizza boys around. What would you like?'
'Large pizza with BBQ chick- actually, no, I'll have pepperoni.'
For some reason it was on my mind.
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[ WP ] You live in a Dystopian world where eye color determines your social class . 20 years later a baby is born with red eyes .
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I could not believe the newspaper, but my sister was such a conspiritard. She claimed that there was no such thing. She believed it to be a hoax. I insisted she was wrong because the lighter the eyes, the smarter you were. The darker your eyes, the poorer you were expected to be. It always turned out that way as those born with dark eyes could never get a high enough IQ or pixel brightness to work hard enough.
Sure enough, the family was revealed to have genetically modified a hybrid to create a new eye color that was both bright and dark. No one knew what to do with that red eyed child.
So I know exactly what I am going to do tonight since it's my turn to clean his bedroom.
I'm going to make that child blind and take his eyes for my own face
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[ WP ] An unborn child gains consciousness in the womb . The child begins to imagine the 'outside ' world based on the voices it hears .
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I awoke with a gasp. All around me there is darkness, even though my eyes are open. At least, I think they're open, I ca n't really tell. There's something pushing in on me from all sides, and it's very warm and cozy wherever I am. It is n't supposed to be like this, however; I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be driving home, running late as usual. My family is probably worried sick, and dinner's likely gotten cold. My family... It's getting more and more difficult to picture their faces, like they're slipping away.
I think I'm in a coma, maybe. That would explain everything! I think. Would that explain everything? It's getting so hard to think, and I still ca n't figure out where the hell I am. I was... driving my car somewhere. I do n't remember anymore, and I ca n't think with all these voices. Something catches my attention though. A low voice.
`` I think we should name him David, after your brother. I think it would only be right after what happened.''
Who's David? I like the name and it sounds familiar. I bet David is a great guy, whoever he is. I wonder where the voice is coming, I'd like to talk to them but I ca n't, I just ca n't make a sound. Another higher pitched voice speaks up.
`` I still ca n't believe he's gone,'' the voice starts sobbing. `` He could've gotten another job, why would he go out and drink? Damn it he has three children, what are they going to do without him?''
I do n't like the sobbing, so I kick out in my frustration. Why is she crying, why did David make her upset? I do n't like David anymore. I just want the crying to stop.
I ca n't remember much anymore, there's just where I am and the voices. She is crying again, it's violent, I need it to stop.
`` Oh God, Jerry I think it's happening!''
Everything is moving very quickly, all of a sudden I do n't feel safe. There's so many noises, rumbling and high pitched all closing in on me. There's new voices, someones yelling to push.
I'm moving! No, I do n't want to leave, I'm not done yet, I need to remember. There was a blinding light, a blinding light and... then I was here. I'm pushed along and it's getting tighter and colder. I'm panicking. What's happening to me?
Then I see it: the blinding light. And I'm moving towards it.
It's all coming at me too fast, the light and the sounds, I need to press the brakes. My last second of consciousness is overwhelming as the light envelopes me.
I was David.
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[ WP ] You have decided to give up .
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It had been a while since I've last felt pain. I was walking to my room after a long day of... what did I do all day? I ca n't remember. This is strange, I feel the sensation of a cold wind stir in the nerves of my skin as I lay to sleep so that once again I can take tomorrow head on with whatever meaningless chores and activities my'caretaker' will decide for me to accomplish. As I get to laying down in my bed I see an aura coming from the den of another orphan boy named Jack.
Jack is a small boy who never really hit puberty and at the prime age of 16 lost both of his parents in a car accident. The aura from his room was moving. No, it could n't be moving, its a light? I think this is n't possible but then as I move forward it is oozing from a slit in his doorway. What the hell is going on, I ca n't be imagining this.
'Sam you've got to come quick!' - I recognize this voice but it is faint in my memory but my heart soon realizes it's my sister.
Hurriedly, I make my way down the hallway past the mysterious ooze seeping from the floorboards. I have n't seen my sister in years why has she all of a sudden come home near the middle of the night. We embrace and my puzzled look confuses her as she asks
`` Brother have you forgotten your sister? Has it been that long already?''
No, but I am confused as to why she is here. My thoughts are interrupted suddenly as Jack and two of the orphan boys emerge from their room glowing like a firefly with the colored ooze falling from their bodies covering the floor that they meander across. She takes my hand and we run. It feels as though we never stopped running while making absolutely no progress. Each boy seems to get one step closer no matter how many we take. The house seems to be filled with endless turns and I've suddenly become lost in my own home.
How is this possible, where did Erin come from, and why are the other boys glowing? My mind was racing searching for answers, each boy screaming that I should know why because I am the one to blame and I breakdown.
I wake in my room, clothes laying on the bed next to me where I left them disregarding their need to be folded, and I breathe. My head aches and my nostrils are caked, causing my throat to be dry and in pain. It is 1:37 in the morning and somewhere between falling asleep and now I've had one of the first nightmares of the my last five years as someone living alone. I try to fall back asleep but being sick is keeping me hot to the touch, yet every time I move I feel the icy air from the vents shatter what effort I have to get out of bed. So I lay there, giving up on the sleep I was trying so hard to catch up on, and wonder will they come back again tomorrow?
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[ WP ] `` I killed you months ago . You just did n't realize it . ''
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She continued peeling potatoes. Delivered a death sentence and did n't bat an eyelash. She did n't even turn around to look at him.
`` Oh, do n't sulk like that. I killed you months ago. You just did n't realize it.''
`` Wha --'' Confusion.
`` Not *literally*, but our marriage has been dying for years. Easily for years. I just decided to accelerate the process before we *both* turned into walking corpses.''
Pieces started clicking into place in his head, and she knew it from his silence.
`` Yes. Whatever it is you're thinking, almost certainly yes. Being cold to you. Turning the kids away from you. Emasculating you in front of your friends. Encouraging your drinking habit. Plenty of little things, too. Things I made sure you would n't notice until it was too late. Your medication, for example. The doctor told you to take two a day -- one in the morning, one in the evening. You'd sometimes take a little extra.''
She had the tone of someone pleased with herself, but she was n't smiling.
`` Sometimes I'd take a little extra, too. Every other day or so, I'd flush an extra couple of pills. I saw how it bothered you, talking to yourself in the bathroom.'' She did her best mocking impression of him. `` *I ca n't have taken that many, can I? Am I blanking out? No, that ca n't be it. I must have miscounted. *''
Her lip curled in contempt. He could see the side of her face tense up. An uneasy sensation filled his chest, and he found it difficult to breathe.
`` I do n't like to brag, but it was even easier than I thought it would be. I had thought --'' she stopped peeling a moment and considered her words. `` -- I had *hoped* you would struggle more. There used to be at least a little spark in you, thinking back on it.''
`` Husbands should n't have to struggle against their wives,'' he said, his voice sounding terribly unlike his own, distant and empty.
`` No, they should n't have to.'' She turned on the gas, and the range came alive with a *woof* after two or three seconds of clicking. `` That's because they should be busy struggling *for* them.'' She placed the pot of potatoes on the stove, adding a pinch of salt. She flipped the oven light on and peered at the glass casserole dish. `` I did my part and then some to build a strong household. I've always wanted better for us, and, when we got married, I believed you would rise to the challenge.''
`` I've got a good job,'' he said desperately. `` It pays the bills, keeps the house, sends our daughter to school --''
`` Your counterargument is that you draw a decent salary?''
`` What more do you *want*?''
`` I did n't say I wanted material security. I said I wanted *better*, and I gave you every opportunity to provide it. But you were content for the past twenty years to rise, shower, work, drink, and sleep. I did n't want *this*,'' she said bitterly, gesturing around with her wooden spoon. `` I wanted romance and adventure. I wanted to live an exciting life, with an exciting partner, where we go places, do things, make memories. But every day is the same, and I'm getting too old to wait for you to light a fire.'' Every word was heavy with resignation.
`` Why did n't you say anything?'' he asked, exasperated.
`` I did. You know I did. But you would n't even give me the little things. You would n't go to the movies, or out to dinner, or dancing, or even for a walk around the block. I said plenty. You did n't listen.''
The water was boiling. She stirred the potatoes.
`` I'm not going to make some longwinded speech about how you've failed me as a husband. I'm not going to ask you to change. You've stolen the best part of my life from me, and I hate you for it. Simple as that. You've been killing me for years, and I'm returning the favor now that I've realized it. You should be grateful your part in it has only been a few months. Now, sit down.''
He did as he was told.
`` You see what I mean -- no meaningful capacity for resistance. For all I've done to get back at you, I ca n't even be satisfied by petty revenge when you just roll over and take it.'' She sounded disappointed, but then, he knew he'd in fact *been* a disappointment.
`` Here's what's going to happen,'' she said flatly. `` I've got a casserole in the oven, and the mashed potatoes are nearly finished. When everything is done, I'll serve us a last meal. I've poisoned the food, and eating it will kill us both. Relax,'' she commanded, seeing he'd gone tense and stiff in his seat, `` You know you're not going anywhere, and neither am I. We'll eat, then we'll die. We've all but killed each other already, so there's nothing to gain from either of us clinging to life.'' She pursed her lips, giving him a hard look straight in the eye. `` If you have any respect for what we used to be -- or could have been, for that matter -- you'll shut up and eat.''
He did n't move. He did n't speak.
She set the table, sat across from him, and waited for the timer.
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[ OT ] Writing Workshop # 13 : Anger
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I love the tips section. It definitely helps!
***
I have so much. I have a roof over my head, I have a bed to sleep in. There ’ s A/C in the hot summer and heat in the winter. There ’ s always food in the fridge. There ’ s a television with cable, even Internet that ’ s quick. It ’ s comfortable and I ’ m thankful but I hate it.
I hate the man that comes in every night from ignoring me, staggering in and placing his “ Word of God ” down like I should lap at his feet. I ’ ve never wanted to crack my clipboard over someone ’ s head so bad before. But that ’ s assault, so I grit my teeth and bear it. Someone who can be so nice in the morning, before he takes off for work, and returns as the antithesis of the morning person. If I didn ’ t know better, I ’ d say that he had an evil twin that shows up every single night.
Everyone I care about lives hours and hours away. They make no effort to contact me, even though I try for them. Eventually, you simply give up and stare at a name on the phone, trying to force them to call you. Then you throw the phone to the side, damning it and not caring if you ever use it again. But I ’ m a slave to it, I come back to it every time with a look of disgust reflected on the screen before I turn it back on again.
At least he leaves the house. I find little to no reason to go out. Shopping for groceries or house supplies only takes so long. And then I ’ m back in my self-made gilded cage, staring at a flashing television screen and wondering when the monster will come barreling through the door as I sit and wait for him like a forgotten dog.
A stray dog that he ’ s simply allowed to stay, that ’ s all I feel like. There ’ s debt to take care of that I can ’ t touch. There are things I should be doing that I can ’ t push out. So much to do and so little of me left to do them. I ’ m not even sure where the rest of me went.
Well, I have an idea of where it went but I can ’ t exactly get it back from him. He ’ s taken over my life and made it all revolve around when he ’ ll stumble in, restate the same things over and over again, despite the fact that I ’ ve heard them fifty times already. And every single word is so important. Bleah. I ’ m sick of it.
I have no family. I have no friends. I have no job. I have no worth. I have absolutely nothing. And I can ’ t seem to make anything better. I ’ m sick of myself.
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[ WP ] As well as yearly birthdays , everyone has yearly 'deathdays ' , which mark the anniversary of the day they will die .
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It's kind of sombre, because no one knows how many you have left.
It's registered next to your birthday, a little black stamp - day and month. Time, too, if you slip the nurse a note and look a little sad. 29th March for me. No time, dad did n't have any money on him when I finally came out.
You do n't get candles, or presents. You wake up at 00.01 and stay awake for twenty-four excruciating hours, watching the clock as your mother bites her fingernails and your little sister cries because'everyone looks so scared.' Then at the end your father pops open a bottle of wine and you sit and drink in silence.
But it was n't going to be this year. I could feel it in my bones. I was young and I was healthy and I'd never felt more alive. I was nineteen years old and I thought I was faster and stronger and better than anyone else. I'd long since grown taller than my dad and I could pick up my little sister and swing her round with ease.
`` Tonight.'' Russ says with a wink, placing down two pints on the sticky table.
`` What's tonight?'' I ask, taking a long slow sip and pretending to enjoy it.
`` Shipment of dvd players to the warehouse in Kingston. Loads of games and shit too.'' Russ crouched low over the table and giggled nervously, hands constantly tapping on the wooden surface. He glanced around shiftily. `` Only one guard, some fat geezer who probably does n't even know what running is.''
`` I do n't know mate,'' I say. `` It's pretty risky.''
`` How is it? There's nothing to it. The building is n't even alarmed. You want me to tell Baz you're not up to this shit?''
`` No, no!'' I burst out before I can stop myself. `` I'll do it. Just... Just got ta be back before midnight.''
`` Cinderella or something?''
`` No, it's my day... You know.''
`` Yeah, okay.'' Russ nods eagerly.
So that's why I'm freezing my ass off in some godforsaken dockside as Russ struggles wih a pair of bolt cutters.
`` Hurry up,'' I say. I'm constantly throwing glances over my shoulder.
`` Fuck me, Liam. One guard remember? Keep your knickers on!''
But I keep expectin to hear the squeal of sirens or the breaking beam of someone's flashlight. I check my watch.
`` It's getting late...''
`` Do n't you fucking dare pussy out now.'' There's a thick snap and Russ grins. `` Got the fucker! Come on.''
He crouches and squeezes through the hole in the fence. I check my watch, ten past eleven, and follow him.
`` This is too easy.'' Russ clips the bolt off the warehouse with a tearing *crack* sound. The door falls open.
It's like that warehouse from Indiana Jones where they keep all the scary shit. Boxes and boxes of stuff, lit by flickering lighting, is packed tightly onto metal shelves.
`` See if you can grab Dark Souls II.'' Russ shouts, disappearing into the bowels of the building.
`` Russ!'' I hiss, but he's already gone.'' My palms are sweating and I think I have swamp ass. Fear grows in the pit of my stomach. Half eleven. Part of me wants to run and never look back. Part of me is saying'we have n't been caught yet, just grab the stuff.' The last is Baz and Russ shouting at me together, telling me I'm a worthless piece of shit. So I grab the nearest dvd player and heave the cardboard box under my arm.
Fuck me it's heavy.
`` Stop right there.''
The blood freezes in my veins. I turn slowly, knowing exactly what I'm going to see. It's the one guard, back hunched with old age, clutching a tazer in his outstretched arms.
`` Drop the box.'' He says, shaking it at me.
I run. I run for my fucking life. Fuck Russ. Fuck Baz. Fuck getting rich. Fuck deathdays. I leap the fence, shredding my hands on the barbed wire but I keep running, back along the dockside.
My watch beeps at me just as I round the corner to home. It's March 29th. It's my day. I've made it home.
No one knows how many you have left. I'm still smiling as the car hits me.
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[ WP ] Voyager 1 has unexpectedly returned to Earth . It was found at Cape Canaveral , with a note written in a strange , unknown language attached to it . Scientists have translated that note and have called a press conference to reveal their findings .
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`` Everyone, please, settle down,'' Bruce Kingston said, addressing all the world's various journalists and reporters. `` Please, just *calm down! *''
The noise fell from a cacophony to a general murmur. A hand shot up.
`` What can you tell us about Voyager?'' the reporter asked, as others nodded hurriedly.
`` What did the aliens say?'' asked another.
Bruce took a deep breath. This would not be easy.
`` The aliens... said nothing,'' he said, as everyone recoiled in surprise. `` The entire damned thing was a hoax.''
Immediately all the reporters spoke at once, and Bruce tried to speak over the chaos.
`` The note was nonsense. No code, no hidden language - just pure and utter gibberish,'' he said, as if the words hurt him.
`` But then how did the Voyager land up in Cape Canaveral?'' a reporter asked, as all the cameras zoomed in on Bruce's face.
He shook his head. `` It never did. Turns out we're still receiving signals from it in space - this entire debacle has just been a prank on the world. The'Voyager' in Cape Canaveral is a modified replica from decades ago.''
The reporters were dismayed. The entire world had tuned in to see this, it had been a global event like no other before. And it was all just a *prank? *
`` I'm sorry everyone,'' Bruce said weakly, `` but I suggest you all just go home and... you all just have a good night, alright?''
****
`` Are you sure we did the right thing?''
The team of scientists sat in the empty hall after the presentation. They were passing a hefty bottle of whisky between them.
`` How can we be sure?'' Bruce replied, taking a massive swig from the bottle. `` All I know is that if we told the world what's *really* going to happen, it would n't last through the night.''
The other scientists nodded halfheartedly. They were n't convinced - but how could they be?
`` Well, if you'll excuse me,'' Bruce said, getting up from his chair, `` I'm going to go home, kiss my daughter goodnight, and make love to my wife for the last time.''
Standing in the doorway, he stared at each and every one of them. He took one last swig from the bottle.
`` It was a pleasure working with you all,'' he said, shutting the door behind him.
*****
*****
If you did n't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [ my new subreddit. ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/ )
I'll try add new ( and old ) stories every day < 3
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[ EU ] The Dragonborn has finally died . Unfortunately , he 's sold his soul to ALL the Daedric Princes .
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“ Well, this is a little awkward. ”
The great Dragonborn, Sir Dick of Butts, faced the Daedric princes. They were all in varying states of duress.
Apparently, none of them had planned for this.
“ You mean you seriously sold your soul, separately, to *all* of us? ”
Sir Dick simply shrugged.
“ Never thought I ’ d make it this far, to be honest. I mean, I ’ ve died a thousand times, but I ’ ve never really *died*, you know? ”
Azura shook her head.
“ This… this is fucking ridiculous. ”
While the other princes agreed, they showed no indication of it. Each prince wanted the great Sir Dick ’ s soul for themselves, and all were trying to devise a plan to make that happen.
“ So what happens now? ” Sir Dick asked, fumbling with the notches in his sword awkwardly.
Clavicus stepped forward. “ My princes. Surely there is a way to split his soul, so that we all get our equal share? That would be a fair compromise, correct? ”
Everyone looked at each other. While they seemed reluctant, there seemed no other way. They nodded.
Sir Dick, however, did not like the sound of that.
“ You ’ re splitting my soul? ”
Malacath nodded.
“ Essentially, yes. ”
“ Ah-*haa*, ” Sir Dick replied, somewhat dejectedly.
The princes turned to face each other, discussing the finer details of the deal. Sir Dick, however, gripped his sword a little tighter.
A single thought arose.
*... I wonder if my Dragon Shouts still work? *
*****
*****
If you did n't completely hate that, consider subscribing to [ my new subreddit. ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/ )
I'll try add new ( and old ) stories every day < 3
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[ WP ] A Day in the Life of a Sociopathic Hitman
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Will the Sociopathic Hitman woke up, had a BM, ate a bowl of cereal, then got in his car, drove forty minutes and caved a man's head in with a baseball bat. Will was n't sure what the man had done to deserve death, or if he deserved death, or if anyone did or if anyone did. Will did n't care about the big questions, just the small ones, like how should I kill this one.
Sometimes he did n't even ask that question. This time the client had been very specific, in the morning, at the breakfast table with a baseball bat.
Will drove home, cleaned the baseball bat then dropped it off at a Goodwill on the way to his next job.
He knocked on the door, a twenty-six junkie looking motherfucker opened the door. Will shot him in the face, stepped over his body, shot the guy getting high in the living room, then the guy getting high in the kitchen. The guy in the basement was playing video games while getting high, so he had headphones on and did n't hear the shot that killed him or his friends.
The guy upstairs was just about to get high when the shooting started so he still had a moderately clear head. Clear enough to come at Will, not clear enough to take off the safety or load the gun.
Will shot him twice just for shits and gigs.
It turns out there was another job down the street. It was just one guy and Will was in a garrotting mood, so it was over pretty quick and he was able to take an early lunch.
He had a burger. It was pretty bad so he burned the store down, but he did n't bar the door because they had at least gotten his order right. Will thought of himself, above all, as a fair man.
Will usually took care of the lighter stuff in the morning, your losers who's time to pay back loans was up, or your idiots who fucked the wrong person, and saved the heavier stuff, competing criminals, politicians, the odd other hit man who had become a liability, for afternoons.
But the sandwich had left a bad taste in his mouth, the fire had got him in a quick violence mood and it was such a nice day that he took care of a cheating spouse and their side a day before schedule.
He only had one `` heavy'' assignment. This one he recognized. Will had even done some jobs for him. He was alright.
Will waited for two hours for his car to come by then blew his head off with a Barrett.
On his way home Will got a call.
`` Hello?''
Will hung up. If you called someone and they picked up you did n't say hello like an asshole, you just started talking.
They called again. Will picked up, because that's what fair people do.
`` Sorry about that. Fucking interns''
Will hung up. You did n't waste his time with saying hello like an asshole and you definitely did n't waste his time by making excuses.
They called again. Will picked up, mainly because he wanted an excuse to not go shopping.
`` Bob is the bar, running his mouth off. Do it however, try not to make a scene''
Will had n't even actually said a word on a phone.
He heard Bob from outside the bar. Will went in, sat in a dark corner, then followed Bob into the bathroom and put a knife through the base of his skull while he missed the urinal.
Then there was no avoiding it. He went to the supermarket, bought some frozen pizzas, bacon, some Orange juice, a loaf of bread and kale.
On the way home he hit a homeless person on an exit. He did n't swerve to hit them, but he did n't swerve around them.
At home he ate raw kale while he made a frozen Pizza then watched two episodes of The Simpsons. He thought they were funny but did n't laugh.
Before bed he read 8 pages Fifty Shades of Grey, this time laughing at what people considered a sociopath.
He was about to go to sleep when he remembered he had n't brushed his teeth, so he did that, then he went to sleep.
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[ WP ] Make me cry realizing how awesome the world is .
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Where is the separation between living and inanimate? There is n't one. You are a golem of carbon and hydrogen. Molecules link together just so and this allows ATP to form such that unthinking, unfeeling cells -- themselves formations of more inanimate molecules -- can build it and break it apart for energy on sheer stupid reflex.
Where is the separation between parent and progeny? There is n't one. Cells merge and then they split, split, split but never disconnect from another, bigger set of cells splitting, splitting, splitting. Eventually the newer set buds off and a new bunch of firing electrical pulses takes over its movement, but it's still the same organism. And this organism has coated the earth, loved itself, hated itself, killed itself, thousands of times over.
Where is the separation between soldier and bomber? There is n't one. They're both great-grandchildren of the same woman, eventually. They're so alike on the genetic level as to nearly be clones. They're the same organism, killing itself over different patterns of firing electrical pulses.
Where is the separation between you and the universe? There is n't one. The sun turned hydrogen into helium, which turned mass into light, which a plant turned into sugar, which some animal turned into protein and carbohydrates, which got eaten and turned into the carbon and water that is in you. You are a piece of the universe. It built you out of itself by a million separate, complex processes, without even wanting to, and because of those innumerable complex processes, the universe by sheer coincidence has a picoscopic bit of itself capable of experiencing itself.
So experience it.
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[ WP ] The god before me ... bled ?
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`` What have you got to say for yourself?!'' I demanded.
He stood facing the front of the church and started to walk up the steps to the doors.
`` You've got a lot to answer about!'' I cried. I stared to follow him up the stairs.
The figure entered the left door, or rather what was left of it. There were large holes from years of abandonment and the metal on the hinges let out a jarring sound, definitely rusted. My hand caught the door before it closed and I stepped inside.
'Inside' is of course, an expression. The roof had long since collapsed, so I stepped through the rubble towards front of the stone chapel. The figure was at the front of the room, kneeling. I approached him wearily, unsure of his intentions.
`` What have you got to say for yourself?'' I asked.
The figure stood and turned around to face me. His pepper colored hair was almost touching his chin and it was parted in the center. The eyes were a rather misty blue, foggy. However, that's not what I noticed. A knotted scar stretched from his left eye down to his chin. It was n't a straight line, it was a mangled blotch that took up 3 inches across. A small trickle of blood dripped from his nose.
`` What do you want?'' he asked. His voice did n't carry the weight of the skies or the fury of the gods, instead it was filled with the reality of the broken.
`` I... just...'' I stammered. `` I wanted to know why you've let the world crumble on itself. We're on the brink of ruining the earth, killing each other with nuclear weapons, not to mention that we're running out of water. We're all going to die soon and you have n't lifted a finger to help us!'' My voice was gaining momentum, raising in volume. `` Where were you when the earthquake his LA?! Why did n't you help anyone in Japan for the Tsunami?! Why did n't you intervene when the first nuke hit?! You could've stopped everything!'' I yelled.
He wore a solemn expression, the corners of his lips turned down. He lowered his eyes to the floor.
`` I ca n't help you.'' He said it matter of factly, as if I should have known it already.
`` What the fuck are you talking about?! You are God, in case you forgot. The big G, the All Mighty!'' My voice wavered over the word mighty, as I saw him shake his head.
`` No, I'm not. My name is not Jesus, Allah, Zeus or any other name you've decided to brand me with. I have no name! I am your creator, that is all! Why must you demand any more than that?! Do you even understand what you're asking for?!''
I paled, realizing I had made a mistake.
`` You humans are my prized creation, the pinnacle of my achievements. And yet, you throw it all away over petty garbage!'' His voice lashed out at me like a whip, stinging. I took a step back, fearing what was about to happen.
`` I do n't understand,'' I started.
`` Of course you do n't! If you did, you would have solved this on your own!'' his voice roared. He paused, taking a breath. `` Look, I know you were looking for a solution. I understand that. Let me use an expression that you're familiar with. You can lead a horse to water, but you ca n't make it drink.''
I looked at him, confused. `` What does that have to do with us?''
`` Everything! I have led you all to answers and I've paid the price for it.'' His eyes stared at me as my eyes flicked towards the scar once more.
`` I have done everything I can to help you. If I did anything else, it would make it worse.''
`` That does n't make any sense,'' I said. I stood up a little straighter, trying to make him realize the error in his ways. `` You said you've tried to help us, well we could use a little more help.''
`` You can lead a horse to water, but you ca n't make it drink. What happens if you move the horse even closer to the water? It still does n't drink.''
`` Enough with the horses.! We're not horses, we understand how to solve things. Just set us in the right direction!'' My voice was strong, I knew it was true. We could get through this if he helped us.
`` Do you know what happens when the horse's mouth gets close enough to touch the water?''
`` It drinks?''
`` No. It drowns.''
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[ WP ] Write a mysterious short story in which a HUGE plot twist is hidden in the first two sentences .
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Yuvelev ran down the front steps, waving his hands like he was signaling a plane, his face panic stricken. Tsaryov cursed. The wind was unusually moist and hot, blowing in black clouds from the East, and he was struggling to attach at least his driver ’ s side windshield wiper.
“ Tsaryov! ” Yuvelev had the same sort of nervous excitement that zoo animals have, one that makes them wear naked trails into the ground behind their cage ’ s bars. Tsaryov had once roared to Yuvelev that it simply wasn ’ t his job to monitor *everything*, he didn ’ t have the time, that he was required to work, not to *live* in the city that didn ’ t exist. But Yuvelev – with is glasses so thick they magnified his eyes, and his small and delicate mouth – looked so wounded after the shout that Tsaryov couldn ’ t bear to do it again. Instead, it became a sort of game between them. Yuvelev and his hypochondriac-esque terrors; Tsaryov and his cunning escapism.
Tsaryov finally clicked the wiper into place. He threw open his Trabant ’ s door, and threw himself inside. It had taken almost two years to get his request approved and another three for it to arrive from East Germany; still, almost new, and it was already falling apart.
“ I ’ m defecting. ” He wailed as the Trabant ’ s engine sputtered and coughed, as the first fat drop of rain splattered against his windshield, as Yuvelev managed himself across the weedy parking lot and pressed himself against the driver ’ s side window. He grinned nervously, tapping on the glass with his open hands.
“ Piotr Mikhailovich! ”
Thunder bellowed overhead, and a few more drops touched the windshield.
“ Piotr Mikhailovich! ”
“ I can ’ t hear you, Roman Vladimirovich! ” Tsaryov shouted through the closed window as the engine finally coughed to life. Despite a reedy clutch Tsaryov managed the Trabant into a perilous reverse, and Yuvelev skittered away from its velocity, still waving his hands. Tsaryov saluted giddily as he trundled down the gravel road leading from the plant and towards home, his pace a slow and staggering agony. The Trabant stalled twice as the road darkened with rain. The wiper struggled valiantly against the flood.
“ I ’ m defecting. ” Tsaryov said after the second stall out, sitting in defeated silence as water cascaded over the windscreen, turning the gray horizon into a blurry mirage. Thunder blasted like cannon fire, once even seeming to make the ground shake. The few rumors that had reached Tsaryov of fellow defectors were mixed: they were making their fortunes in Manhattan; they were in prison under harsh sodium lights, interrogated by American military men for hours; they were homeless, their credentials laughed away. But Tsaryov spoke a little English, courtesy of a second cousin from North Carolina, a connection that somehow hadn ’ t managed to disqualify him from his work. And while Irina would have to learn, she was friendly, she was warm, surely she could make friends in a new place, and surely knowledge of the city that didn ’ t exist would interest some American official --
Eventually, the Trabant stuttered back to life, and continued its dire, belching crawl across the deserted, rain-drenched plains.
Tsaryov had just spotted the outline of the village ’ s edge when a black drop spattered against his windshield. The windshield wiper doggedly swiped it away, though Tsaryov stared at its place with his mouth furrowed in confusion, almost directing the Trabant into the post of a fence in his distraction. *A bug. A big one. * But by the time he reached his village outskirts, that black droplet was joined by a dozen more, one after the other in a heavy tattoo.
“ What in God ’ s name --? ” He gasped, remembering Yuvelev ’ s panic-wild eyes.
By the time he reached home, the windshield was awash in black water. Tsaryov threw open his car door, eviscerated by terror, his breath a thin, gasping scream. *Yes, yes, defect, before word gets out, we can make it as far as the sea before—*
“ Petya! ” Irina stood in the front garden, wide-eyed and smiling, her hands open towards the black clouds over head. She was as black as if she had been dipped in oil.
“ Irina! ” He screamed, unable to extricate himself from the shelter of the car, unable to sprint across the black-logged grass and clutch her, to wipe the black rain from her eyes.
“ Isn ’ t it beautiful? ” She said, as the thunder bellowed overhead. “ It ’ s beautiful! ”
*Based very, very loosely on the events of Chelyabinsk-40 and the black rain of Belarus. Hope all my historical touches were accurate.
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[ IP ] Modern Magic - an oasis in the city
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If you flew on a plane in this day in age, you would see nothing but artificial lights sending off their pollution into the night sky. These lights could be seen covering every inch of land mass on the planet, no patch of land was free from the confines of these man made structures. No land was free of the towering skyscrapers as the entire planet was just one big city.
If you were lucky, maybe on top of these buildings you could capture a glimpse of sunlight through the pollution and clouds that constantly hugged the structures. But that was only if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, you'd be below the smog and fog that drifted silently over the planet, never ending. Sunlight never made it through this layer of pollution and clouds, it was too thick. How people could survive under this blanket of suffocating gases, no one knew. They just did.
This was the world we lived in today. A world of pure industry and corruption. No source of light, no source of hope. Except for the house.
If you were even luckier than the people who lived on the top floors of the skyscraper, and you looked down at New York city, where it used to be, you'd see it. A chance glimpse out the window of your flying jet and there it is. A small, green, wooden house. It would be surrounded by vegetation and trees, something not seen on Earth in this time. Light from the sun would be forever shining on it, breaking through the clouds just to peer at the last of Earth's natural beauty.
Life was flourishing and prospering in the small abundance of nature. Small animals could be seen flying around the house. Birds. Other small animals were seen scurrying around the trees and bushed. Life could be seen acting as it should in this final bastion of nature. And as it left your view, you'd feel something in you. That, my friends, is hope. Hope that maybe, one day, you'd get out of this world of chaos, confusion, and corruption.
Then, it would be crushed just as fast, as the scenery left your view and threw you back into the real world. This world where beauty and nature thrived were but a small speck on its gray, industrial face.
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[ WP ] Humanity is the only `` intelligent life '' to hurt others of its kind with nothing to gain .
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Assembled dignitaries of the outer galaxy, we understand your concerns. Your transports have made themselves known to our people, and we can see your armies' power. I stand before you today to speak on behalf of my species. I have little to say in defence of my kind, but I am sure the time I have finished, you will look upon your impending attack as unconscionable.
I am sure that you are waiting to hear my defence of my people and their actions. We have much to tell you about our capacity for love, our art, our poetry, our philosophy. The world is full of mothers protecting their loved ones with their last breath; of altruistic moments of pure kindness. This will not be that speech. That will not be my defence.
The defence you should be concerning yourself with should be your own.
We kill millions. We kill out of anger, hatred, jealousy, fear, politics. We kill for sport. We kill to eat. Not for sustenance. For taste. Sometimes, we kill for *seasoning. * We kill for clothes. We kill *over* clothes. We kill over the *colour* of clothes, if you happen to be in the wrong neighbourhood.
Yes, we are in this court because we kill with nothing to gain. But if we would - and do - kill with nothing to gain, ask yourselves this:
What the fuck do you think we're going to do to *you* once we've got a good reason?
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[ WP ] A shopkeeper deals with a shy thief
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`` there's not much in this life worth risk.''
The man behind the register was calm, his voice, however, harbored a reserved wrath.The boy waited for a familiar flushed feeling. The feeling a mouse scavenging for sustenance might have upon hearing the shrill shriek of a falcon. He remained frozen in a squat. Eyes bolted onto a false point a mile ahead of him. `` Sometimes our lives become so... watered down that risk is the only thing that justifies waking up. Look at me.'' The boy had begun shaking when he realized he had stood and met eyes with the man behind the register.
`` Are you like me? Do you live for what may come?''
The boy had no answer, honestly, he was mortified. Locked in place by a pair of eyes that seemed to be reaching out, to touch him.
The store was absolutely silent. `` How? ``, thought the boy. He swore that there were other people besides the store clerk otherwise he wouldnt have made his move. The din of refrigerators, fan blades slicing and pushing air. `` Im not sure.''
`` well'' the store clerk started around the counter, `` theres one way to find out. One wayto be sure.'' He closed the distance between them. Arms length now. The store clerk raised his right hand and with his left index finger pointed to the base of his palm. `` Imagine a semi truck. An eighteen wheeler. It's barreling down the freeway. Just flying. It's hauling a massive log. Just one log but it's huge. Ever seen a sequoia? Even a picture?'' The boy nodded, `` yeah they're big.'' `` colossal,'' said the man, `` they're colossal. Anyway, imagine this truck is hauling this log and its big like a sequoia. Suddenly the truck crashes, head on, into the side of... The great wall of China.'' The man, still pointing at his palm, glared at the boy.
`` You know what happens? The truck crumples. The engine is pushed under the cabin seats. The cab is flattened by the log slamming into it and finally the log comes to rest. The wall? It's cracked. Maybe some stones fall from it. But that section of the wall stands. Pretty much unscathed for its duty.'' The man raised his eyebrows in search of understanding from the boy. The boy nodded in agreement.
`` Now, imagine that same log that the truck was hauling just floating down the freeway by itself at freeway speeds. Now it slams in to the Great wall of China. The log, unimpeded, hurtles into and through the wall. The wall is defeated. Do you know why?''
The boy thought for a moment. An equation grinded through the wonky gears of his mind. `` because of the truck cab. Because it's not there anymore.'' The man formed a mild smile. `` It's not there to cushion the impact.'' was the boys response.
`` Good. I'm glad you know. The same concept applies to when you want to knock someone unconscious.'' The man stopped pointing at his palm and made a fist with his left hand, holding it eye level. `` If you punch someone with your fist closed you risk breaking your hand and failing to knock them out, leaving yourself open to attack. But if you strike them in the right spot with the base of your palm... well its like a sequoia slamming into a wall. That person is going down and will probably stay down for a long while.'' The man let silence fill the space between them. He stood arms extended, and apart. `` Sometimes an opportunity presents itself. Its up to you to determine wether it is truly something to take advantage of or if its just temptation. So... decide.''
That night the boy sat on the edge of his bed and thought about guardian angels. He stared longingly at a community college information booklet. That night the store clerk closed the store the same way he had for years. He swept, mopped, arranged products, counted the tills, put the money away. Finally he turned off the lights and locked the door behind him.
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[ WP ] You live in a space colony light years away from earth do to an accident only 5,000 people made it to the colony . To insure genetic diversity until more colonist arrive in 100,000 years at the age of 21 you ’ re paired with the best genetic mate . Even if you love someone else .
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`` We here on earth have run into some very serious issues lately and it is looking like they are only going to get worse before they get better... we may never again be capable of sending another colony ( or any other for that matter ) into space, unless many generations from these problems are solved and in those days they are able to build technology back up to where it was at its height when you left earth; we are sorry for your tragedy and loss, but you are on your own from here on out. Goodbye and good luck, may you at least preserve the human race. The people of Earth''
The message ended and everyone sat in shocked silence.
What could have happened, was it a technology breakdown... fuel shortage, or some political turbulence, or worst...?
Elder Neason cleared his throat.
`` I'm sure we are all asking ourselves the same questions, but it is no use pondering what may be... we will send another message asking for clarity on their situation; in the meanwhile... whatever their situation it puts us in an increasingly difficult situation'' He paused to look around to make sure he had everyone's undivided attention, than continued.
`` It is apparent that we are completely on our own hence forth, therefore we need to decide how we are going to solve our problems as immediately as possible, and put them into action... the sooner we act the more we mitigate the severity of our unfortunate circumstances''
A lady in the middle of the crowd stood up.
`` I think our very first decision should be to send a party out after the others''
`` Lady, I do n't think we need to pretend to still believe they are alive anymore, with that said finding them and what has happened to them... will have to be second priority because as you all know we sent a great deal more food and other supplies than we could afford comfortably for our own survival... trusting to nature to provide for our needs better than she has thus far''
A man a few rows away stood up hurriedly.
`` But if they are in fact still alive for one they may need our help, and two perhaps we may recover some if not all of the supplies... thereby lessening our plight''
`` I second that idea, even if we only send a small search party to locate and determine their state first, than they can come back and report the situation as they find it... surely we can spare a dozen volunteers to go?''
Another voice piped up.
`` It would at the least be that many fewer mouths to feed''.
Glenn the head elder spoke than.
`` I hear all that you have said and you have my sympathy, but we are in a much more dire straight here than I suppose you realize, for one we are still loosing people to some unknown disease that we ca n't yet cure or contain which coupled with the lowering birth rate amongst us, and us being down to one third the colony we were before the others went all adds up to us being a dying colony if things continue in this fashion'' He paused a moment to catch his breath.
`` And lastly... who do we send? Children? Old men? Both would likely not last more than a fortnight; no we would need to send the young healthy people who are absolutely vital to our cause here... both in doing the majority of the work and less popularly... to... well reproduce''.
The crowd was silent.
This was Colon's chance, he had increasingly been getting more anxious while the conversation had been going on... especially the procreation bit sank his heart into his stomach, he knew that someday he'd need to settle down and have a family... everyone would need to to save their race, but this world was big and wonderful... he still had a lot of exploration to do before he could do that.
`` I will go alone, I will take my amphibious friend along, he knows this world and can communicate with it and that way this colony does n't need to lose any vital persons''.
His mother jumped up.
`` No, I wo n't allow it... I can not lose another of the men in my family''
`` Mother, I fully expect to be back within the year... besides, I am one of only a handful capable enough to carry this mission through alone, and as our Elder said... we can not spare people, but I alone wo n't make a difference here... and anyway I am nowhere near ready for starting a family''
The elders were now whispering amongst themselves, and the clinching argument came from elder Carissa.
`` I say we let him go, he is too much like his father was, and his constant venturing out on discovery trips are influencing the young with some wild romantic adventurer notion... his going solves a few problems alone''
The others nodded in agreement. Glenn stood up and lifted his arms to silence the crowd, who had been whispering in excited tones.
`` If you are fully prepared to take this on yourself... we feel that it would be beneficial for you to go and discover if you can what has become of the others, but... as you said yourself, you will go alone... or at least from our people's, and you will have no help from us once you are beyond our borders as we can spare no-one here to go rescuing you if you get into trouble; do you still choose to go?''
Colon did n't hesitate.
`` Yes sir I do... but I will need some supplies at least''
`` We will give you what supplies you think you'll need''
Colon looked at his mother and gave her an apologetic hug.
`` Sorry mom, but I just ca n't settle down to domestic life just yet, and you still have Tom with you''
It took him a week before he could set out on his journey, there had been the trouble of some supplies... but mostly he had trouble locating and convincing his friends Igg to go on this adventure with him.
Igg was a native to this planet; the best description the humans had of his people was `` Fish men'' though three were plenty of females of course ( and some very pleasant to behold ) but that had been a custom on the old planet to call humans `` man''.
Anyway Igg and his people lived in the nearby sea during the cold winter months, and in dry sandy caves along the sea front during the summer months.
They were very in tune with nature life, so much so that they were able to communicate with all creatures and plant life in a form of telepathy. Colon having lived his entire life with the sea people as neighbors... had befriended Igg and had learned many things from him... including telepathy, though he was still a considerable amateur.
Once all was ready he said farewell to his mother and siblings, then set out for the place he was to meet up with Igg.
Nine months and a good deal more adventures then even Colon liked, he had done a considerable amount of maturing and growing both in his knowlage of the planet and in wisdom.
He said goodbye to his friend Igg and walked the rest of the way home alone. Needless to say his mother was ecstatic to have him home.
The news he received about the doings and happenings of the colony dismayed him somewhat, true they had discovered a way to contain if not cure the virus ( for such it had turned out to be ) their food supply was getting better, they had made an alliance with the sea people who would bring them fishes from the sea and the colony would supply them with vegetables ( they had learned to eat them and had grown quite an appetite for it ) despite the advancements there was still much work to be done and the population was still stalling or declining slightly.
But the part that most dismayed Colon was that after much debate it had been decided that on a person's 21st birthday they had to be matched with a mate medically proven to be their best match in copulation... even if they did not love each other, the survival of their species was more paramount than feelings at this point.
Colon was torn between just giving his mother th news of what he had discovered of the others, and let her deliver it to the people and skipping out into the world again, and staying and doing his duty for his people.
Sorry about the formatting... Am new to this.
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[ WP ] Snowden was a cover-up .
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`` It's simple Johnson, it really is.'' Smith paused for dramatic effect ( something all high level government officials do ). `` You let the public bite just the end of the fruit, but you keep the rest for yourself.''
`` What do you mean sir?''
`` You let them think they know. You send in some class-A jackass and you call him a'whistleblower'. You let them idolize him. You let them hate him. Either way he is fucked, the NSA takes a hit, and we move on our merry way.''
`` I'm just not sure I'm okay with all of that sir. Snowden and the NSA exist to help the American people, so how can we morally just sell them up the river?''
Smith chuckled aloud for a moment. `` Kid, this is politics... there are no morals here.'' Smith's eyes darted, behind his dark glasses, to the corner where he would swear he heard a sound.
`` What's wrong sir?''
`` Nothing Johnson, we should n't be having this conversation anyway. But one last thing, to remind you of your duties regardless of morality: sell out what you can to keep your job, keep The Agency hidden, and to keep the country safe. Because it is for the betterment of America after all.''
Smith and Johnson's eyes met each other, despite the shades, and the two took a momentary glance. Then laughter, full, hearty laughter ensued.
`` For the betterment,'' Johnson took a laughing pause `` of America sir. Yes sir. Oh absolutely sir.'' With that said the two agents walked their separate ways.
Just a typical day at The Agency.
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[ WP ] A lottery is held in Hell every day . The winner gets an interview with God to try to get into heaven . You 've just won the lottery .
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*I gave this by best shot, I'm sorry if it's fallen short. *
The entire trip upstairs I felt like I was about to vomit. They'd given me a suit to wear, a stylish number tailored expertly, and a tie that had been tied for me. I looked perfect.
I did n't feel that way.
With a deep breath I strode between the heavy double doors. The light blinded me for an instant, and I was in heaven. Or maybe the most cliche vision of heaven I'd ever seen, beautiful sky above and an endless cloudscape to trod upon. I walked a few steps forward when I heard a voice speak my name.
`` Christopher.''
To say the voice was loud would have been an impossible understatement. The voice echoed as if every iota of creation had spoken, and it shook me as though every cell within my body had heard. I fell to my knees, an unimaginable weight upon me. It burned me, scalded me, this unfathomable presence. In an instant it was over, the pain was gone. I looked up.
I could not look upon him, my eyes would not obey. All I could see were the robes that he wore. I thought, when I was alive, that I had seen the color white. In salt, in clouds, in the moon and the ocean spray. I was wrong. The robes that adored him were white, the purest, most perfect color I could possibly imagine, I knew that to see even the robes with my mortal eyes, I would have been burnt to a cinder.
`` Christopher,'' the voice came again, this time I heard it only with my ears, `` rise.''
My body, such as it was, obeyed instantly. The weight upon me had not lessened, it pressed down upon me in a way I will forever be unable to describe, pulling me back down to the other place, but still I rose.
`` What is this burden that I bear?'' I asked.
`` Upon your soul you bear the weight of sin.'' The tone warmed, was almost friendly. `` Walk with me.''
Again, I obeyed. We walked a few steps in silence before I spoke, `` why?''
His voice was sad, `` you are a sinner.''
`` Everyone is a sinner.''
`` But you rejected the forgiveness I offered you.''
`` Was I so bad? Was my sin so great?''
He turned to look at me, my eyes were turned away from His glory. `` Come and see.'' He gestured, and before me a scene played out, two children, perhaps twelve or thirteen, picking on another. `` Do you remember Allan?''
`` No.''
`` He remembered you.'' The two bullies threw punches at the third, who tried weakly to protect himself. The punches had little behind them but they struck true. With a start I recognized the children. `` You bullied him,'' God said, `` you made him afraid, and this day, within Allan, something broke.''
I heard myself shouting at the poor child, `` fag! Queer!''
He continued, `` you passed judgement upon him, and you punished him unjustly. You knew it was wrong to do so, but you did it anyway, because it felt good, to ostracize the outsider. You were meant to defend him, to protect him, but you did not, and Allan paid for it. Because of this, because of your actions on this day, he was never the man he was meant to be.''
The scene split, I saw Allan as an adult, he wore a suit, pulled into a big garage, greeted a gaggle of children with a broad smile; I saw Allan as an adult, he wore a shirt and tie, he parked in the driveway and greeted a single child with a sneer.
Tears filled my eyes, `` I did n't know.''
`` You did know. You knew it was wrong, you knew what would have been right, and still you sinned.''
`` I am so sorry.''
He did not answer me, but kept walking. I found myself following.
`` Do you remember Rex?''
I was weeping now. `` Yes.''
`` He remembered you.'' He gestured and the scene played out. I was in my late teens, I stormed through the front door of my parent's house and threw down my backpack. I sat down heavily on the couch, head in hands, crying. The younger me lifted his head, punched the armrest and shouted, `` God fucking dammit!''
`` I fumbled the ball for the homecoming game. We lost.''
`` Unfortunate for you, but not a sin.''
In the vision, an elderly dog limped over to me, a golden retriever, his muzzle gone gray. He nuzzled me, licked my face then coughed. The Christopher in the vision erupted, `` do n't cough in my face you little shit! Get the hell away from me!'' The vision faded.
I wanted to fall down on my knees, to stop and weep, such was the guilt that filled me. He spoke, `` Rex was a good dog, a loyal friend, and sought to comfort you. You acted in rage and cursed at him. He lived another two years and loved you dearly, but your admonition cut him to the quick. I felt his hurt, Christopher, felt it more acutely than he. He forgot with time; I did not.''
We walked in silence for a time. I looked down in horror and saw barbs plunging into my spiritual flesh, attached to each was a great weight pulling me down, each alone far too heavy for me to carry. I understood the countless others were hidden from my sight. Still my spirit obeyed, and despite the weight I followed.
`` Do you remember Janet?''
I did not want to answer, but even so I did. `` Yes.''
`` She remembered you. She was a good woman, Christopher. She did not have your strength, but within her was a good heart, a heart full of love and compassion.'' He gestured and the scene played out.
`` Oh Janet,'' I cried. In the vision she sat at the table in our little apartment in tears. I sat across from her fuming. Between the sobs she explained, the other driver had pulled out in front of her, there had n't been time to stop. She'd crashed my car, my dream car that I'd saved for years to buy. It had been totaled. I had been crushed.
`` Please God!'' I shouted, `` no, please no.''
If he heard me, he did not answer, the scene played.
Janet, beautiful Janet, wonderful, kind, caring, generous Janet. She looked up at me, and she pleaded, `` I'm so sorry Chris. Do you still love me?''
I remember this day, this hour, this very instant. I did not need the vision to remind me, but it played on anyway. I tried to turn away, I could not bear to watch, but I was made to.
The Christopher in the vision, the angry Christopher whom I despised, whom I loathed, whom I condemned to the deepest pits of hell turned to beautiful, wonderful, perfect Janet and said a single word.
`` No.''
I had n't seen it then, but I saw it now. She broke. Something small within her, a little piece, was broken. I wept and the vision dissipated.
`` I tried to be a good husband,'' I sobbed, `` I tried to be generous, to be kind, to be loving, and I failed!'' I hated myself more than anyone else at that moment.
God spoke, `` for the most part you were a good husband, an excellent husband, but you failed, once; once was enough.'' He sighed, `` she forgave you, but she never forgot, and she never recovered. She is my daughter, my precious, beloved child, and you gave her a hurt that never healed. You were a good man in life, Christopher, better than many, but are you worthy?''
At last I was allowed to fall, I turned in on myself, racked with sobs. `` Oh God my father, cast me away from your presence for I am unworthy.''
I expected the pain, but I did not find it.
`` Do you remember my Son, the Messiah, who will absolve you of these sins?''
At these words I found a sudden calm. `` No.''
`` Nor does he remember you. Would you like to meet him?''
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[ WP ] The year is 2032 . The first manned mission arrives on Mars . A joint effort from most of the developed nations on Earth . Only to find the North Korean flag is already there .
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Cameras followed the astronauts as they slowly climbed out of the landing pod. They waved at the came after they were all on the surface. A moving speech was made. Then the camera feed was cut.
Five hours later, came the next feed, as the astronauts were walking about and digging up dirt. Some were dribbling a basketball. Others were explaining to the audience vaious random facts about the mission. Then cut camera feed.
Three hours later. The flag of the United Nations is being carried to the top of a high, but easily traversable hill. The camera steadily follows the astronauts as they reach the top. Then someone of camera yells somethong angrily! The camera swings up to the hilltop. The is a flag already planted. It is the flag of North Korea. `` Cut!''
`` This was a live feed!'' Yells the director to the actors and stagehands. `` What fool thought it woukd be funny to put tgat flag there?'' The CIA was walking onto the set to dust for fingerprints. The actors removed their helmets and looked at each other puzzled. The director turned to the Man and said, `` Sir please forgive us. Please do n't exterminate us.'' The Man ignored the director and turned to thr CIA investigators. `` Master, the investigations show that North Korea put the flag here in our studio themselves!''
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[ WP ] You are a well known guitarist . You wake up in 18th Century London with only your favourite guitar . After while , you wonder if Georgian London is ready for some Punk
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I walked into London square, large black case to me side. The smell of body odor and human refuse reminded me of my many nights playing in run down bars, and the strange looks from the dressed up commoners felt just like home. Parting the crowd and making my way towards the end of the square, I start popping the locks off the case one at a time. The thought of being remembered as the man who began a movement made me giddy with joy, yet terrified of the reception. If punk was hated in the 80s, how good can my chances be 200 years earlier? With greats like mozart not so far away in time, could people possibly be ready for this? I pull my guitar out of the case and set it on my stand. I could feel the eyes of the Victorian Londoners practically penetrating my back. A crowd had formed at this point, and I could hear the commotion. `` What the bloody hell is that?'' Is a common phrase making its way around. I set my amp against the wall, and pull the cables out of my case, plugging them into my guitar and amp. Finally, I grab the power cable, hands shaking with excitment. Now where the hell do I plug this in?
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[ WP ] A strange virus spreads across the earth killing everyone but heavy smokers .
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They, whoever *they* are, first discovered it after the majority of a hospital staff had been wiped out, leaving sixteen nurses and nine doctors. Not all of them had come into contact with patient zero but only had one thing in common: they smoked. Heavily. I'm talking about two packs a day heavy.
It was dismissed that this was the only connection that these people had in common until another outbreak happened at a school. That was a sight I do n't wish on anyone. Hundreds of kids dead and dying, and the few that survived were the high schoolers that were smuggling cigarettes between each other, smoking them in the bathrooms or sneaking out to puff the cancer stick away in a mere three drags. A handful of teachers survived along with most of the custodial and all of the lunch ladies. That really caught the attention of the CDC because children were involved and that makes it a *tragedy* according to the news.
Soon, everyone was scrambling to buy cartons of cartons of cigarettes, and start puffing away until stores were auctioning off packs to hordes of people who clawed their way over each other to get that little stick.
After some research, it was discovered the reason that these heavy smokers were n't keeling over like everyone else is because the virus survived in healthy tissue of the lungs of its victim, festering and then just one day, their alveoli would just explode. Quick biology lesson: those things are the reason oxygen gets into your blood and carbon dioxide gets out. Without them, you are fucked. Smokers' alveoli were already damaged, corroded, and the virus could n't handle it, leaving the smokers the *healthy ones*.
Karma must be laughing at everyone who said that smoking kills.
-036
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[ WP ] Everyone spends 30 minutes of the day blinking . And just for one second today , everybody on Earth blinked , for one second all humans had their eyes closed .
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Their eyes transfix me.
& nbsp;
I am without lips, without ears. I am lidless eyes and grasping arms, I am sight and embrace. I see them and I crave them, to hold them in all of my arms, to watch them writhe in agony or ecstasy. Yet unhearing, I long to see their mouths gape in sounds I can not hear. I pace their world hungrily, pressed into spaces between spaces, wriggling inside walls and beneath floors. Through the finest cracks I can press the smallest arm to watch them with the least of my eyes. An ant passing in front of me blinds me for a moment. Even then I am aware of all of their eyes staring, never shut at the same time. Even as some sleep the others watch.
& nbsp;
They rule even the seas now. I swim beneath the vessels that carry them and I am aware of their sight even then, eyes on instruments of glass and iron, my boneless flesh caressed by the vibration that can not delineate the shape of one that is shapeless. To them I am a confusion, a nothing, a shadow among shadows. They have forgotten my name for time beyond time. Yet still I feel their eyes on me. And while their eyes transfix me I can not reach for them. Voiceless I wail my unfulfilled desires.
& nbsp;
But now, today, something is happening. I feel it with every particle of my unformed body. All of their little asynchronies madden me and I know them every second, but I feel the rhythm building, I sense the moment that is now approaching. For one instant all of them will be one. For one second each of them will close their eyes at the same time. I will be free of the prison of their pinioning gaze, and I will burst forth from the cage of all possibility and I will embrace them all. None shall escape the grasp of my arms, the gaze of my eyes. I will possess them as they possess me. They will know the love and the terror of me and they will call me by my name.
& nbsp;
*Blink. *
I RISE.
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[ WP ] You die , only to actually wake up in a laboratory , where you realize your entire life was a side effect hallucination for a drug you agreed to take for clinical trials . Your real life 's memories slowly begin coming back to you . The doctors tell you you were only `` out '' for 30 minutes .
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As my son walked out of the room to get more ice. I whimpered as the lights in the room dimmed. My eyes closed, familiar with the face of my son, and I smiled. Nothing was wrong, I heard the door opening again in panic, but I was already dead.
I woke up again. I was bewildered. I experienced a complete and full life, why would anyone want to bring me back to life? An old man? I looked around and realized that everything I knew and, everything that I loved were lies. I suddenly remember who I am. `` Ted?'' said the scraggly looking doctor, who's eyes were paying more attention to a clip board of notes and drug dosages than to me.
I was confused, I knew my name was Ted Smith... but I remembered years and years of being known as someone different. The name is fleeting... I ca n't discern if this is a dream, or if this is reality. Was my life I experienced in the last 70 years a construct?
The doctor's head craned up `` You were out for approximately 30 minutes, 23 seconds, and 12 milliseconds. The drug dosage you received was enough to slow down the brain's perception of time by 1,250,000 times. 30 minutes in your dream would have meant a full life of roughly 70 years.'' Was n't 70 years my age? I looked around my body, and suddenly my memories all returned. I was 21. A scientific savant who devised this cruel experiment. I had no children, I had no wife. I was simply too young to experience all this. I looked up at Doug, and told him `` I think this was a success.'' He looked back at me, smiled, and said `` What are you going to do with the experiment now? Go back in?''
`` No. I am not going back in. I will go see my son, my real son. I will live this life up now. I want a second chance to live life to it's fullest. I will use the one I have right now.'' I got up, and looked forward to my rekindled life.
Several years later we started to get rid of the drug. We destroyed all documentation of it's existence. We ruined countless lives with this horrible drug which showed people what they most desired. However, many people ODed on the drug to witness the'impossible' like facsimiles of dead spouses or dead parents. Voids left by the real world, that could not be filled again by someone else. But these people did n't care as they were too busy desiring the past rather than the possible future.
I, however, was spending my time reading to a giggling newborn.
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[ IP ] New Friends
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( I spent more time on this than I care to admit, regardless do not hesitate to let me know what you think! )
`` I'll protect you.'' A little creature whispered in the pitch black room. `` I'll make sure your mama and your papa does n't hurt you. Go to sleep, little one.'' His voice is comforting; he lets me know he's here when I ca n't move. Half asleep, half awake, ca n't breathe, ca n't move, all signs of him being here. But it's alright because he's protecting me as I sleep.
When I could breathe, I drift off to sleep. I like sleeping; it's also another time when I feel safe. The pictures were starting to emerge! I'm on a planet, the grounds always hot; sometimes there will be little patches that were on fire. I like this planet. There's two large moon here that's could be seen even during day!
I have friends here! One's a cute kitty who's very much bigger than me! Her name is Katrina! She could stand up like me! The other looked like dragons that my best friend likes to draw! Sometimes Katrina and I would ride on him, seeing all over this pretty planet! This dragon's name is Bougual.
Today we made a cave! We started digging in the hot sand until we made a hallway, or tunnel as Katrina called it. I just push the dirt away, giving them space to work with! Then we dig out two rooms! The big one is for Bougual, a smaller one is for Katrina. When we finished, Katrina hugged me and told me that she ’ ll make a room for me! Then she told me bye bye. She knows when I'm waking up.
`` Wake up.'' A mean voice called out, mama's here. `` It's breakfast.'' I woke up, my tummy growling like the little creature at night would make. I went into the dining room and sat down.
Papa sat down next to me and touched my hand while he whispered. `` I had a good time last night.'' But I did n't, it hurts a lot. Mama saw the hand touching and her face got red with anger. But I ignored both of them and ate my breakfast. Papa went to work, mama was still angry.
`` You piece of shit!'' She said, I giggled, she said a bad word. She grabbed me and started shaking me.
`` Mama, that hurts.'' I whined.
`` Good.'' She growled. Then she threw me against the wall. My visions was blurry and when I hit the floor, I saw darkness.
Suddenly I'm back to this planet. Katrina saw me first. `` Hello sweetie, you're here early.'' She said.
`` Mama threw me against the wall, made me sleepy.'' I told her.
`` I see. What do you want to do today? Bougual is out getting some stuffing for our bed! I'm here digging out the dining room.''
`` Silly kitty, we ca n't eat here!'' I giggled.
`` I know, sweetie, but I liked the idea of a house underground!'' She smiled.
`` Ok, I ’ ll help you!'' I smiled! I begin to help Katrina digging out the entrance-way by clawing repeatedly on the wall of the tunnel. I started to move the dirt out of the way, so the tunnel is nice and clean!
By the time Bougual gets back with a large amount of straws from different regions on this planet, he was surprised I ’ m here. Katrina told him about my mother ’ s mean action. I noticed a sad glint in his eyes for a moment, but I ’ m not sure if I imagined it or not. I ignored it and continued to help hollowed out the dining room.
Finally, we were done with the dining room. “ Bougual, would you be a dear and get the trees from the forest region? ” Katrina asked.
“ Sure. ” He patted my head before flapping his wings away.
“ What shall we decorate this place with? ” Katrina asked me.
“ Fireplace in the dining room! Maybe a big table too! ” I smiled.
“ Fireplace we can do… Let ’ s hollow out a hole where the fire would be! Then we can hollow out a tunnel upward so the smokes have a place to go! ” And so we begin to hollow out a space in the wall. Katrina grabbed a long stick and asked me to stand outside while she tries to get the stick through the ground.
After a while of waiting, I saw a stick poking out of the ground, I grabbed it and shook it, letting Katrina know it ’ s through. “ Ok! ” Katrina called out, I can faintly hear her. “ Start digging! ” I begin to cup my hands and dig like my best friend puppy would do. My hand eventually hit her hands.
“ We did it! ” Katrina smiled, “ Now come on down and help me clear out this dirt. ”
I went down and pushed the dirt out. A flapping noise alerted me that Bougual is here. He was bringing a huge log. His breath was heavy, as if he just ran. “ Thank you, Bougual. ” Katrina smiled, unsheathed her claws and begins to make a long dining table out of it.
Bougual assisted me into clearing out the dirt by using his wings as a barrier to gather the dirt. By the time we were done, Katrina got a basic shape of the table out of the log. “ She works fast, doesn ’ t she? ” Bougual smiled toward me.
We took up the time and just watch Katrina worked. When she was done, Bougual helped her carry it into the dining room. “ We need chairs! ” I told them.
“ Indeed we do, but that ’ s for another time, Bougual needs rest. ” Katrina nodded.
“ Ok. ” I smiled, then I heard something faintly, a steady rhythmic beeping noise. “ Do you hear that? What ’ s that beeping noise? ”
Worried looks spanned over their eyes, “ I don ’ t know. Perhaps it ’ ll show itself soon! ” They tried to hide their worries. But I was already unnerved.
“ We could fly around, Bougual said. ” He tried to change the subject.
I smiled “ Yes! ” Katrina and I got on his back, he begin to flap his wings and soared across the landscape. The strong breeze whipped my long hair, I liked to close my eyes, makes me feel like I ’ m the only one flying. I held my arms up to feel the breeze. Katrina held me, ensuring that I wouldn ’ t fall off.
A pain then shot up in my head, I gasped and grabbed my head, starling Bougual. He flew down and landed softly. Katrina carried me off. “ It hurts. ” I whined. “ I thought I can ’ t feel pain in here. ”
Katrina ’ s eyes started to water up. “ It ’ s time… ” She said.
The beeping noise started to become steady and long, the horizon begins to become hazy, like it always does when I ’ m starting to wake up. But the pain just worsens. Even Bougual looked sad. “ My dear, it ’ s time for you to go. You ’ ll never see us again. But always remember that we will never forget you. ” He said.
“ But I don ’ t want to go! I want to stay with you, I ’ m tired of my real papa hurting me, and real mama being mad at both of us! ” I whined, hugging Katrina, who embraced me harder than she normally does.
The hazy horizon expanded; nearly the entire sky was hazy now. “ You were in a coma, ” Bougual tried to explain. “ That ’ s why you never left us since you got here, but now it ’ s time. ”
“ No! Mama. Papa, I don ’ t want to leave you guys! ” I called out as the ground became hazy. As soon as I said that, Bougual ’ s eyes became wet and left a trail of tear on his face. Katrina broke down in tears and hugged him. Then they both became hazy, to the point where I ’ m in a dark place that never lit up... ever…
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[ FF ] [ CW ] A 100-150 word story , written twice . 1st time : make the reader jittery ; 2nd time , make the reader calm .
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Looking back I may have cheated slightly and gone a bit off prompt but it's written so here you go:
_____________________________________________________
He touches her. Paralyzed. She doesn ’ t move. Doesn ’ t respond. He leaves his hand resting on her body. Nobody else is in the room. She is barely dressed. Her favourite doll lays in the bed next to her. They resemble each other in their fragile stillness. He runs his clammy fingers through her long hair as he breathes heavily. He knows he doesn ’ t have much time. What he needs to do has to be done now. Before the others come back. She is beautiful. She is his. They are alone. He puts his cheek against hers, grey stubble grazes soft skin.
He hasn ’ t left her side since the accident. Three days. Wearing the same clothes, sleeping in the hospital. In that time she has been motionless. Stable but critical the doctors say. He clasps her hand tightly and kisses her on the forehead. “ Daddy loves you, ” he whispers as tears stream down past the bags under his eyes. He doesn ’ t know if he ’ ll ever be ready. But it is time. The nurses wheel her out and into theatre. The four hours feel longer than the three days. He can feel his heart beat in his head. The surgeon approaches. A smile. “ She ’ s going to be okay. ”
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[ WP ] `` Please come with me . You are suspected of being involved in a murder . As victim . ''
|
“ Please come with me. You are suspected of being involved in a murder…as a victim. ”
Is what I heard the angel say to the poor soul next to me on the golden escalator.
“ Wait, why? I ’ m dead anyway, right? ”
The angel clasping his wrist deigned to answer him. He struggled free, “ I ’ m pretty sure the way to Heaven is to go up these stairs, why do you want me to get off at this floor? ”
Grabbing for him, the angel ’ s grasp clearly tightened. “ I ’ m sorry, Sir, but those who are possible murder victims are also possible suicide victims or sinners. ”
His jaw dropped to the floor. “ Possible suicide victims? Or sinners?? This is ridiculous. I believe this violates my rights as an American. As a HUMAN! ”
“ Sir, I ’ m sorry but after the death, all humans then become souls, and souls are under the jurisdiction of the Almighty Law, and no other. ”
“ So what laws are there that say I can keep going up and be judged at the gates, come what may at that point, not shunted off to some side corner office of the basement of Heaven to be processed by some indolent bureaucrat angel! ”
The angel sighed.
“ Sir, if you want to see my manager I can get him for you, but I just want you to know that I do not create the rules here. I am sorry that you are dead, that is a very unfortunate circumstance. We have counselors in the office that we are taking you to that will help you come to terms with your present state. There is an adjustment period for everyone, no matter which eternal state you are assigned to. ”
“ I was shot while I was in my own house, defending myself against a burglar. ”
“ I know these laws are outdated, but back in the day when God was a spring chicken these things called guns weren ’ t even invented yet. The old man is slowing down, getting on in years, and can ’ t keep as good as an eye on things as he used to be able to. ”
“ Will I go to Hell because of this? ”
“ Legally I can not give you advice on this subject. Off the record, I can tell you that you ’ ve got a pretty good chance, considering you ’ re telling the truth. I don ’ t have that ability, since I ’ m only a guard, but the guys with the big guns can tell all of the bad and good you ’ ve done in your life, so you might as well be honest. ”
“ Alright, well can I warm up in the office? ”
“ Of course, I ’ m very sorry that this has been so much trouble for you, we know it ’ s very difficult to transition. ”
They got off of the escalator on a side stop and disappeared through the clouds. I kept ascending, wondering what was going to happen at the gates above me.
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[ WP ] Everyone has a personal demon that follows them everywhere and urges them to do evil deeds . You are so evil that your demon begs you to be good .
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`` Sir... we hit our Evil Deed Quota 16 days ago. Thranzanxes has already commended us for our efficient infliction of misery, and recommended you for promotion!''
`` Moxoursis...'' I sighed, as he quavered uncomfortably in the chair across my desk,'Evil is not some time clock we punch in and out of.' You yourself said as much a few weeks ago!''
`` In hindsight sir, I should have begun to notice some minor... irregularities after you... dissolved Europe.''
`` Oh, Moxy! These trifling political arrangements are of no real consequence. A Roman Empire one year, a European Union the next. Have you really stooped to the level of petty politicking?''
`` I was n't referring to the end of the government, sir.''
`` Moxoursis! Your incessant hand-wringing is intolerable! Say what you mean!''
`` Sir, you melted the entire sub-continent.''
`` Oh, a minor conflagration. A temporary flare-up which will wear itself out.''
`` The gas cloud killed 50 million in Sweden alone, sir!''
`` Moxy, do you have any paperclips? I am trying to put together the Casualty Audit Report, and my woundings keep getting mixed up with my fatalities. It is important for future reference that we have a clear picture from the data as to which evil methodologies are most effective. Let's build a desk. A bone desk! Moxoursis! Bring me the young and bright! The future of humanity! I demand that my furniture be constructed of only the finest, most supple marrow. Do n't bring me any of those toxic cloud survivors.''
`` I may be a demon, sir but I have *standards!!! *''
`` Yes, yes, very well Moxy. I, as always, value your predilection for consistency and quality in the selection of your furniture materials. This evening I shall furnish another soul in your trough, as well as lengthening your leash another four inches. How goes the search for benevolents?''
`` Three caught today... as you already know, sir!''
`` I enjoy hearing the recounting of my deeds in your voice, Moxy! Carry on...''
`` Two were trying to feed a starving child, and the third was about to...''
`` Continue, Moxoursis...''
`` The third was going to rescue a puppy who was about to be run over by a speeding bus...''
`` MOXOURSIS!!! DO YOU SEE THIS NAIL FILE?''
`` Sir! I did not realize you were in possession of a grooming implement, but I see it clearly now that you have removed it from your pocket!''
`` Excellent. Take this nail file down to the dungeons.''
( Moxoursis begins to weep softly )
`` Now, now! You are a six-legged, twelve-eyed, poison-fanged, acid-spitting otherworldly beast! I know you are grateful for the opportunity to exercise your tortuous skills, but tears are entirely unnecessary!''
`` But... a *nail file*, sir? It could take months to sand through their necks!''
`` ZENOPTOTOX!''
`` Yes, most evil one!''
`` Take Moxy, and this nail file, down to the dungeons. Do not return until you have separated his whining head from his frail body! Swallow the head whole, then make a vertical incision in your chest so the head sticks out. Then feed that head the severed heads of the benevolents, until there is a multi-tiered head buffet! Then watch re-runs of Family Ties for 60 hours straight.''
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[ WP ] Write me the cheesiest romance story you can .
|
The dry desert winds whipped at the tent flap. But the desert maiden, Brie, eyed it anyway. She knew he would be there soon. The flap was yanked back and he strode inside. His bare chest rippled like a Langres.
`` Oh Jack!'' she called out to her lover from Monterey, `` It's so gouda you made it!''
`` You smile,'' he said, `` As soft as Havarti but your tongue is as sharp as aged cheddar.''
What was this? What had she done?
`` Jack! What are you saying? Is something wrong? Are you feta up with me all ready?''
`` It's not that, but I must go. I found out that I am really not from a Whitestone Farmhouse!''
`` What are you really?'' she asked feeling very bleu all of a sudden.
`` Swiss!''
`` No!'' she gasped. It could n't be! Their nations were at war. How could a blanc man like Monterey Jack really be Swiss? The story was so full of holes. Wait! Of course!
`` It's a trick!'' she exclaimed, `` It's the work of Colby, Jack!''
`` You mean, you do n't think I'm actually Swiss?'' he asked.
`` Would I string you along like that?'' she said with a smile.
`` Nacho style,'' he agreed.
`` Kiss me, Jack!'' she called out, `` Basing on what we know, we are perfect for one another!''
`` Butte!''
`` No Buttes!'' she protested, `` Ricotta make this moment last forever!''
`` I love you, Brie!'' Jack said as he swept her off her feet, `` I can only breathe when you are paneer!''
`` I will love you until the Greve,'' she promised.
Their lips melted together like warm Oaxaca. Their bodies pressed close together like slices of hot buttered bread toasting over a grill. Their bodies intertwined like macaroni. Slowly he took her Green Bay and Pack'er....
Sorry, think I got distracted.
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[ WP ] From birth , everybody has a word imprinted on their left arm . This is the last word they will ever say .
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The last man looked sadly out at the view of the canyon. The earth had changed so much, with no one to affect it. There would always be something to watch, something new that had n't been discovered. And yet, after 1000 years it started to look the same.
He sighed, and lifted himself up with his arm. He stumbled, almost over the edge of the canyon. He was glad he did n't though, because as experience had showed him, he would just wake up bleary-eyed a few days later and have to find a way out of the canyon.
He decided to pick up Swahili today; maybe the word would be in Swahili. If only his parents' negligence had n't lost him his arm at a young age.
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