Datasets:

euclaise

/

writingprompts

like 11

[ WP ] You 've finally managed to discover the secret to immortality . Suddenly , Death appears before you , hands you a business card , and says , `` When you realize living forever sucks , call this number , I 've got a job offer for you . ''

So many times have I walked on ruins, the remainings of places that I loved and got used to.. At first I was scared, each time I could feel my city, my current generation collapse, break into the black hole that thrives within it, I could feel humanity, the way I'm able to feel my body.. After a few hundred years, the pattern became obvious, no longer the war and damage that would devastate me over and over again in the far past was effecting me so dominantly. It's funny, but I felt as if after gaining what I desired so long, what I have lived for my entire life, only then, when I achieved immortality I started truly aging. 5 world wars have passed, and now they feel like a simple sickeness that would pass by every so often, I could no longer evaluate the individual human as a being of its own, the importance of mortals is merely the same as the importance of my skin cells; They are a part of a mechanism so much more advanced, a mechanism that is so dear to my fallen heart a mechanism that I have seen fall and rise so many times, a mechanism that when lost all of which it had, had me loosing my will to live, for the first time in all of my thousands years of existence. Acceptance, something so important. a skill that has proved itself worthy dozens of times, an ability that looks so easy to achieve, a gift, that I was n't able to aquire in all my years, until now. When the ashes on the ground flew into the now empty air upon humanity's fall, I felt as if all of it's weight was crushing me. Ignorance took over and I searched years for a hope, a sign of the very same patterns that I used to watch reappear every hundred years, the very core of my will to exist that was now no more that I so strongly wish was. If you have ever wondered if silence can drive people crazy, it can.. I ca n't feel my legs, I have walked for days, just to hear the sound of gravel, crushed bones, crushed buildings and crushed civilizations under my steps to keep my sanity.. until I remembered, the day in my far past. The day of my rebirth, I took out of my pocket a small plastic box, with nine buttons and a small glass window. I could n't believe this was our past, I could n't believe how far we have been able to progress and yet, be destroyed by our own violence. I slowly dialed the number I was given, exactly 1729 years ago. I dropped a tear, a tear that was too slow to hit the ground as I got sucked into the darkness that emerged around me. A chill went through my spine as I saw my destiny rise above me, I could see the white teeth under the dark cloack... `` You have finally arrived'' He projected into my mind, with the most chilling cold and unhuman voice. `` I'm ready to obey'' I answered. I knew who was sitting infront of me, and it was time for me to obey him, after all these years of playing god, even I came to it. Funny is n't it? Even by achieving immortality, death, is inescapable.

[ WP ] The moon is actually a giant egg , and it has just started to hatch .

-Week 18 aboard the Depth Reaver, Circa 2023- I walk about the dull gray halls, the artificial gravity making my steps feel almost as if they were on land. Almost. I glance out a window as I pass it by. There's the sun, and there's the moon right there. And, of course, there's the Earth. I kinda miss it. Then again, space is pretty cool. It's got some brilliant views, and the wifi is surprisingly good. Even countless miles away from the Earth, I can crush Silver noobs on CS GO. I pass by Dale Malkowitz, the head scientist on board. `` Evening, Dale,'' I say. `` What up, Danny?'' he replies cordially. `` Nothin' much. A little bored, I guess.'' He shakes his head in disbelief. `` I really, *really* do n't understand how you can be bored in space.'' `` Well hey,'' I say slightly defensively, `` Aside from the views, it's kinda... dull. And empty. And stuff.'' `` Whatever you say, Wittell,'' he says, not unkindly. Then he walks off. A few moments pass, and then I decide to look out the window right by me. As my eyes scan the inky blackness of space ( again ), I notice something odd about the moon's surface. It's slightly... cracked. `` Hey, Malkowitz?'' I call out, `` You might wan na check this out!'' He walks over to me casually, probably expecting nothing. `` What?'' he asks, `` What do you see?'' I point at the moon. His brow furrows. `` Huh... I guess there's something up with the surface. I'll have to look into tha-'' Suddenly, the surface cracks a little more. We glance at each other, and then back at the moon, and then at each other again, and then back at the moon again. `` What's going on?'' I ask, alarmed. He's silent for a minute or two, mouth hanging open. Then, he calls out: `` Janice! Terry! Johnny! Get over here! Something's up with the moon.'' The other crewmates enter, unsure of what to expect. As their eyes lay upon the moon's surface cracks, they widen. And, by coincidence, more cracks appear at that very moment. And then more. And more. And more. And more... Little bits of the moon begin to float away, torn free of the rest of the surface. We all stare, speechless. And then... it happens. It *happens*. The side of the moon facing us is... torn away by a... Human... hand? And we see... A giant... human face?! Surprisingly, I can hear my thoughts over my racing heart. *I ca n't help but feel as if I recognize that face... from the... * *Internet. * Suddenly, the great face's lips move. Of course, none of us can actually *hear* it speak, because of the laws of space and whatnot. However, I can read its lips, and it appears to be saying: `` Are you sure about that?''

[ WP ] You find a rip in time walking through the alleys . You enter it to find yourself on a metal table with surgical instruments on a chair next to you .

I was feckin' sloshed, mate. First time I ever was in the Big Lemon, and I'd found me the best feckin' pub I could imagine, I tell ya what. So I stumble out when it was closin' time, musta been'round 4 o'clock in the morning, and made my way through some alleys to find the quaint little AirBnB place I'd rented for the week. A'course, that's how many a horror story starts, ainnit? But it was all fun and games at first. There was this bloke I saw comin' towards me in the alley, dark as it was with only a few lights from some apartments overhead, where the folk were still awake. At least, I thought it was a bloke, but he looked more like there was n't something right with the whole alleyway. Like it was a painting someone had gone and ripped with a knife for some reason, fecked-up as it all looked, and the cut looked sort of weird and silvery, and wavy like a heat haze comin' from a welder's torch. Now this thing must've been a good foot or five taller'n me, but sloshed as I am, I just take off my hat and give it a good `` how-do-you-do'','cause I'm a nice fellow and I wan na pass, y'see? Now this thing up and goes give me a `` mighty fine, how about y'self, sir!'' I feckin' quite pissed my britches! More in surprise'n anythin', really, but I keep my composure and just sorta try and pass'm as he walks past me with his long, spindly legs as silvery as the rest of'm, with his feet makin' noises like he's wearin' cowboy boots with those thingies on'm. But then that moment stupid old me finds I forgot my lighter at the pub, and so I turn and ask spindleboots there if he's got some fire for me. Darn buggerer turns around on the spot faster'n my eyes can see and says, he says `` sure! I got your fire here.'' And the feckin' thing stretches out one of his spindly legs and wraps it around me like a cobra and pulls me into itself. Devil's pits, that felt like I was bein' burnt layer of skin by layer. He sure got me with that. Good feckin' joke, mate. Must've been out like a light for ages, but when I woke up, I find myself here. So tell me, Doc: are time travellers really that sought after as subjects of study?'Cause I know you found me in your fancy cyberwebs database thing and I ca n't be three hundred years old as my passport would say if I had one, but I'd really like to not die, y'know? What do y'say, wan na go and grab a beer at the pub?

[ WP ] For years in your youth the same imaginary character appears in your dreams , you are good friends . Years later , when adult , you meet her in real life , she clearly recognises you and tries to avoid you , and you want answers .

“ No, no no no... ” She backed up and turned the other way the second she saw me heading towards her. “ Hey! ” Starting to walk quickly now I picked up my pace until I nearly ran into her. She tried to duck behind one of the men carrying samples around the food court but instead just managed an awkward half step around him before I grabbed her shoulder. She turned towards me so I could get a clear view of her face. Now I was sure it was her. “ Joanne? ” Her eyes lit up, if only for a second before she turned back around, grabbed her hands and lowered her head before once again repeating her rant of no ’ s from earlier. “ You can ’ t be here, not now. I finally get this far and now you ’ re here. ” She was mumbling more to herself than to me at this point. “ You… you ’ re real, ” I said, looking back to her eyes. “ How… do you know who I am? ” “ I ’ m real? Of course I ’ m real! But you can ’ t be here! ” Now she was talking directly to me. “ Do you know what kinds of hell you put me through? The amount of bullying, stress, and endless therapy! Dave, I finally get rid of you and now you have to come back in my head and tear it back out from under me, ” she slapped her head a few times as she delivered the last line. “ What are you talking about? I- ” “ We were best friends, true or false? ” She asked. “ True, no false, I mean, we were friends but not… ” I looked at her once more to make sure she was actually standing there. “ You ’ re a dream, ” She froze at this. “ No, no I ’ m- you ’ re a hallucination. I saw you for years! Every waking moment from- ” “ Seven until twelve ” I looked at her shaking my head, incredulous to what was happening. “ When we fell out of that tree that one summer, ” she smiled for just a second before frowning again and looking down. “ But that was just a dream, I woke up right after that. ” “ No, that actually happened. I was awake, I remember it exactly because that ’ s when I still lived in Australia with my parents. ” I looked at her, and began to realize something. “ You saw me when you were awake, I dreamt you while I was asleep. I lived in Boston, when you lived in Australia. ” “ Hold on, ” She sat down. “ My head hurts, ” She paused. “ We met, every day- ” “ Night, ” I corrected. She looked at me and scowled. “ Every day. For five years, until we fell. What happened after that? ” “ I told you, I woke up. ” “ No, what happened for me? I don ’ t remember anything but falling head first and then… ” “ Joanne, ” I looked her straight in the eyes this time. “ I woke up. ”

[ WP ] You glance at your watch 10:34 am , roughly 10 seconds later your plane explodes over the Pacific Ocean . Your eyes open as you jolt awake . The familiar hum of the planes engine remains . Checking your watch it is 9:35

There's a magical moment between wakefulness and sleep, a moment where noise seems to reach a crescendo but everything is so calm right as you crash into the warm waves of sleep. As my eyes closed the only thing I saw was the time on the TV screen in front of me, faded blue numbers that read 10:34AM. Unless your plane explodes. Searing heat tears through flesh and shard of metal pierce every nerve, for a fraction of a fraction of a moment there is nothing but horrendous pain and then there is darkness. That's when I woke up, drenched in sweat, eyes wide with fear and panic. The first thing I noticed was the time. 9:35AM It had been so real. It was real. That was no dream, it could n't have been... I glance around to my fellow passengers and wonder how it happened. What caused it? Can we stop it? Stop the plane, I want to get off? I've been a cop for a long time, that's the good news. The bad? I'm stuck in a metal tube that I think is going to explode in less than an hour and I have to find out how without panicking anyone. Especially if I'm wrong. But what if I'm right? No resources, no back-up, no escape. Fuck it, no problem. ***** 9:36AM Alright. There's got to be at least 300 people on board, not including crew. It could be mechanical and it's going up in flames no matter what and that's bad news. We're too far away to do anything about that, the map shows somewhere over the Pacific. That's really bad. Not like anyone would believe me. I'm not entirely sure I believe me. My only hope is that I can find out what causes the whole thing before the whole thing happens. Terrorism? I mean, I guess it could be but that's a slim shot in the dark. So what in the blue hell blows up a plane over the ocean? First stop? Bathroom. Experience an explosion is enough to make you feel the urge to... relieve yourself. That's when I see her. I stand and she's further back but she's got that look on her face. The sweat, the panic. She saw it too. The good? I guess I have a partner. The bad? I might not be wrong. **** 9:37AM I wave to her and motion towards the washrooms. `` You saw it?'' She nodded. `` Did you see anything?'' She shook her head. This was n't productive. There had to be something, some piece of information that either of us had buried in our brains that would be useful. Then something clicked. `` Do you remember which way the explosion came from?'' She tilted her head as if she was remembering. `` Yeah, the heat was in front of me. What the hell is going on?'' I looked back to the passengers. There were six rows between her seat and mine. Six rows of nine, that's... 54 if any math from school stuck. `` Hey, did you hear me?'' She said, grabbing my arm. `` Yeah! It came from in front of you. It came from behind me. So that means-'' `` It started somewhere between us.'' She finished, which would usually annoy me but in this case it was nice to have someone pick up on it nice and quick. I checked my watch. 9:41AM. We were running out of time. **** 9:42AM `` Does anyone stick out to you?'' she whispered and I shook my head. We could probably eliminate a few potential suspects by process of elimination. A young family probably was n't going to cause a problem, the elderly couple as well. Stuff like that. As I watched I saw there were three people acting nervously. One portly man checking his watch a little too frequently. A younger man sweating profusely. A woman glancing around with what I would describe as suspicion. I pointed them out to her and she agreed. So maybe we had three suspects. Or maybe we had three nervous flyers. 9:45AM. Seconds were ticking by and we had a very limited number of those to start. As we stood there a flight attendant approached us from behind. She startled both of us and that's when the woman turned and locked eyes with me. Then her eyes went wide and she knew that someone knew. She bolted from her seat and reached for the overhead compartment. That's when I slammed into her full force, throwing both our bodies to the hard floor and skidding at least three rows ahead. When I lifted my head I was staring down the barrel of a handgun. A young man, sweating profusely, was holding the right end of it and I was definitely on the wrong end. He was n't holding a badge though. Which meant things were going from bad to worse.

[ WP ] Through Iron And Flame

The mountain stood still and large beneath the Warrior. It had not trembled in the days since the people chose him as their Champion. `` Perhaps the Dragon slumbers yet,'' he thought. `` I shall wake him, soon enough.'' He strode forward, heavily, in his iron raiment, shining dully in the morning sun. The shrouded peak drew slowly nearer as the sun climbed the sky, mirroring the Warrior's toil this day as the last. The Dragon slept silently in its lair amidst the clouds. For generations the people had not seen it wake. But their stories, told by night and hearth fire, still remained hushed in reverence of its deadly wrath. Legends told of it waking and the destruction that followed. But that was before. Before the people had tamed iron and bent it to their will. Now they had weapons that could fight the myth. That could quench the fire. The Warrior stopped at the edge of the cloud bank, just as the sun had stopped there hours before. He breathed. Deliberately he pulled the heavy iron axe from his belt and gripped it between strong hands. A glow had appeared within the clouds. The mountain rumbled. `` I have come to wake you, beast, and I have come to show you the people no longer fear you.'' The ground rolled and thundered. He roared in defiance and raised his axe, charging into the fog. He half ran and climbed in muffled beats as his bloodlust for the Dragon pounded in his ears. The glow grew brighter and the ground shook violently. A gout of flame split the clouds in front of the Warrior and he saw his destination. The rock ended in a ridge just above him and the Dragons flames beat and splashed beyond. Without breaking stride, the iron Warrior crested the ridge and leapt, axe raised high, into a pit of Dragon fire.

[ WP ] You live in a world where there has never been sickness , and you are the first to have ever experienced being sick .

I open my eyes in a panic, sweat beading and then falling down my face. I look around and the sun in shining through the maroon curtains of my studio apartment. Everything seems to be as I left it the afternoon before, but there is a heavy, unfamiliar air in the room. I notice the throw cover I lazily hang to separate my twin size bed from the rest of the apartment has been ripped to the ground, and that the kitchen faucet rhythmically drips against the cold steel sink. I was alone last night like I always am, I think. No one has been here but me in over three months. I'm not allowed to think about it much longer, as the feeling in my stomach bubbles over and pops once more as it had been doing all night, slowly worsening. I pinch my eyes shut, knowing what's coming next, and for just one moment, as the pain peaks like a giant wave waiting to break, I think I may just die this time. And just as quickly, the wave reaches the shore, and I know I have a few moments of peace. I open my eyes and look around. I ca n't help but surrender to the weight of them after a few moments, and I drift to an uneasy sleep, as the tension escapes from my stomach and from the rest of my body, dissipating into the small space I call home. The next wave takes what remains in me and decimates it. The pain blinds me, numbing me to all feeling and sensation. The relief never comes as I close my eyes involuntarily. I finally come to and realize I had been asleep for a while. I open my eyes and, fighting the blinding lights and white room, I see that the natural maroon lighting of my apartment has been replaced by white hospital lights. Beyond the thick glass walls of the room that was smaller than my apartment - though I did n't think it got smaller than that - stand people I have never seen before, looking at papers and analyzing the rhythms of the machines I now realize I am hooked up to. The men all stop and slowly turn their unexpected gazes at me as I begin to curl my sore body into a seated position, only to be shocked back down by a face that made the sea of unfamiliar faces fade away. The prominent cheekbones that made my mother seem so much prouder than her nature would actually allow remained strong, though the rest of her seemed to be worn down by the years. The same mahogany curls fell across those cheeks and down right above her shoulders, though they seemed more ashen now. Her frail yet determined hand touching the impenetrable glass and reaching to pick me up and hold me, and I recall the day in my childhood where, in my insistence to become a world champion roller bladder, I fell and scrapped my knee. And I recall the comforted feeling of being cradled in her arms in fetal position. And I recall never wanting to leave the warmth of the embrace. And just as I begin to reach out, I crouch and close my eyes to the familiar feeling that boils over in my stomach. Falling in and out of consciousness, I see quick flashes. I see my mother's crystal blue eyes well with tears that could not be held. I see her strong posture and I see the unfamiliar men gather, bowing and shaking their heads, unsure. I see the green lines of the machines jump and dance. And I see a sign, sloppily and quickly written above my bed, the only writing visible to me in my haze. It read `` Patient Zero''.

[ WP ] You are at the park with your kids , when you see the telltale signs of a lightning strike . You divert your kids from danger , but are hit by lightning . Soon after , you discover that your Dad Senses have increased 100 fold .

“ Sadie! I told you not to stand under the tree in the middle of a thunderstorm! ” My mom frantically dialed 911, as I laid there, shocked. Literally. “ Hello?! My daughter was just struck- “ All of a sudden, something was wrong. I sat up, my fingertips crackling with this new power. Or was it the aftermath of the lighting? I couldn ’ t tell. Nor did I care. No. Something was definitely wrong, and it was nearby. “ If I take 295 south right now, I can get to Home Depot in ten minutes flat. And then I can finally build that deck you ’ ve wanted, they have the planks on sale. I can feel it in my blood. Now, I know, they ’ re plum colored and you did specifically say you wanted pine, but hear me out here. Plum is the pinest color out there, and you ’ d be a birch to say otherwise. ” My mom looked back at me, a hint of recognition in her eyes, but the rest of her face read as one emotion: terror. “ You know what else? I ’ m gon na get like, 50 windows from craigslist, they have the best deals, and make a greenhouse! ” Somehow, the words kept spilling out of my mouth. But something else was off here. Something with my house… Suddenly, I knew. I felt my blood boiling as I continued to be filled with rage. I jumped up the rest of the way, and dashed the two blocks to my house, where my brother ’ s laptop was. “ Not. Home. And his computer is plugged in. ENERGY WASTER! Doesn ’ t he care about this house?! He could ’ ve burned the whole place down! ”

[ WP ] Write a horror story from the perspective of the antagonist . Make them as sympathetic as possible .

I do n't want to cut off his head, but I do n't really have a choice. I close my eyes and just wait for it to be over. My insides turn as I feel the swing connect. *Quit being so weak! You've done this before. * The jock's girlfriend screams on cue, looks like she is going to faint. She has blonde hair and a blue dress patterned with diamonds. I see how scared she is, and I feel ashamed. I'm not the bad guy. *Do I have to remind you? Remind you how they came here -- to OUR home -- and ransacked OUR things? They are trespassing! * The door to the bedroom bursts open, and another girl storms in. I think her name was Whitney. She is holding a shovel. She surveys the scene, and I am impressed by how calm she seems. I decide to back off, but she takes that as a sign to attack. The shovel strikes me in the face, knocking my mask off. Before I can recover, I am hit again. Then a third time. The fourth strike sends me flying out the window. We are currently three stories high. *How could you let her do that? * I like the feeling of being weightless. Bits of shattered glass encompass me, sparkling with moonlight. I feel like I'm floating in space, surrounded by stars. Then I hit the ground and I think I feel a rib break. I shift to make sure. *Mother fucker! * Yeah... it broke. I landed in a pile of bushes, which cushioned my fall at least somewhat. Through the thick tangle of branches, I look up toward the broken window. Whitney is nervously peering out of it, scanning the grounds. `` He's gone.'' she shouts before disappearing back into the house. *You need to get up. They are getting away. If they get away, they will tell others. More people will come. Not just the shitty teenagers, either. For fuck's sake, GET UP! * I know I have some time, so I take a moment to collect my thoughts. I do n't like doing this: hurting people. It's better now that I'm numb to it. It's not my fault they keep coming here. It's not my fault he makes me hurt them. I'm not the bad guy. From the other side of the house, I hear the front door open, followed by the shuffle of feet against gravel. `` Keep it together, Cindy. I need you to keep it together'' Whitney's voice is stern but supportive. Though she does n't speak, Cindy's breathing begins to steady. I know they are heading to the car even before I hear the doors open. In the next few seconds, they will drive off, and I can go back to being alone. *Except their car wo n't start. You saw to that. * The engine begins to hang, and I hear the girls swearing. They keep trying, but it's no use. He makes me stand up and grab my machete even though I do n't want to. He makes me run despite the pain in my side. The girls scream as soon as I round the corner. They throw open their car doors and begin to flee. He tries to make me chase them, but I refuse. *If you ca n't do what needs doing, fine. I'll do it! * I am too weak to fight him. He takes control of me, one limb at a time, and everything fades. When I wake up, I am in the woods. It is almost pitch black, but I can make out a tiny cabin in the distance. I start walking toward it, but my foot catches on something, almost knocking me over. I look down to see a limp figure curled into a ball beneath me. She has blonde hair and a blue dress patterned with diamonds. Some of the diamonds are red now. I try not to think about her again as I continue walking. As I approach the cabin door, something triggers in the back of my mind. I feel isolated, safe. The door creaks as I push it open and walk inside. There are pictures covering the walls, drawings of spaceships and planets and stars. I look closer and find that each picture has something in common: a drawing of a boy with a space helmet. He looks happy. I find something else, too: a photograph. This one is of also of a boy, a real one. He is sitting in a wagon with a cardboard box on his head, cut up to look like the same space helmet in the drawings. He is n't alone, though; there is a man standing behind him. His face has been drawn over in a furious series of pen marks. Though I ca n't see his face, the man terrifies me. He fills me with the same kind of dread I feel every time I hear -- A scream comes from behind me, followed by another blow to the head. I stumble around to see Whitney, this time holding a metal baseball bat. She swings at me again, but I catch it in my left hand. Before I can stop it, my right arm shoots forward and strikes her across the face. She flies backward onto an old table, which breaks underneath her. *She's on the ground. It's time to finish it. * I do n't want to. *I do n't care what you want, just do what I tell you. * No. *Do it, you piece of shit. Do it or I will! * NO! I throw my machete toward the ground as his shouts fill the room. The force of it brings me to my knees. Even as I resist, I begin to feel him taking control. My right hand stiffens and begins making its way toward the weapon. Before he can grab it, I kick it away. It skids to a halt right next to Whitney. She picks it up without hesitation and lunges forward. It surprises me that I do n't feel pain when the blade enters my chest. Then a scream pierces through my skull and I know it has hurt him instead. I feel my body begin to go limp again, though nothing steps in to take control. `` Die!'' Whitney shouts at me, but I do n't blame her. I do n't mind that she does n't understand. I do n't even care if he does. It's only important that I know it, that I feel it in my bones even as my vision starts to fade. I'm not the bad guy.

[ WP ] An alien invasion happens during an alien invasion .

For years we had been warned. Since the 40's a sparse few had seen the pattern and tried to warn us. Nutjobs we called them, conspiracy theorists. It was supposed to be a day of celebration, the republicans and democrats had been swept away in the election by the newly formed'unionists'. It was at the Swearing-In Ceremony that they chose to strike. Close to a million were gathered to witness the ceremony, when our newly elected president'Dave Johnson' ripped his facial mask of and revealed his true, reptilian face. `` Sstupid little monkeyss. We have played you from the sshadowss for decadess. Now, it iss time for uss to take our rightfull place ass your overlordss!'' Scream of joy quickly turned to screams of terror as reptilians revealed themselfs everywhere you looked. Every guard and secret service member present had thrown off their masks and were holding their guns towards the crowd. `` Do NOT ressisst uss! We have ruled you pathetic ssociety for yearss! we have replaced every leader! We have-..'' the sentence was cut short by an ear deafening boom. `` Anthony, what iss that?! what iss going on?!!'' Dave could only hiss at fellow reptilians as a large alien ship was currently hovering far above them and was sending waves of what appeared to be odd looking silver chariots towards the gathered crowd. The reptiles, not knowing what to, simply watched along with the crowd as a giant holoscreen appread in the sky. The creature that appeared tall, sleek and had grey, almost silverish skin. 'Organics of Joo'el. We must utilies your planet to halt the Grox advance. This process involves destroying your planet, thus killing you, sorry.' `` You have got to be sshitting me!, I've only been their ruler for 5 minutess and thiss sshit happenss!!'' 'Defecation is irrelevant, local warlord.' `` That'ss not what it meanss!!'' Daves scales had gone from green to red during the announcement and it was only getting worse as he continued to yell at the image in the sky. `` We sstayed hidden for yearss for thiss to happen! We wo n't let you take thiss planet when we are on the brink of victory! You silver spoon!!'' 'Consent is irrelevant, local warlord. Gobal distribution achived, commencing planetary modifications, please remain calm.' The silver chariots, seemingly ignoring Earths inhabitants, began to spread out and cut into the ground with lightbeams. Seconds later, an earthquake hit, and something surfaced with it. Most chariots managed to dodge in time, but those that did n't were smashed by giant constructs emerging from the earth. The golems were covered in lines emitting the same yellow light that came from their eyes. At their full height, they were at least 30 storys tall. Every chariot retreated to a safer distance. `` The fuck iss thiss?!!'' 'Reproduction is irrelevant, local warlord.' `` SSHUT UP SSILVER TURD!!!'' A bellowing voice shook the ground. Forcing those on the ground to cover their ears. { We have lain dormant for aeons. We have waited, we have awoken. } 'We must utilise this planet to-' `` WE KNOW!!!'' { We have waited for- } `` I DO N'T CARE!!!'' Dave had actually managed to outshout the booming voice from the ground. More than that, anyone near him could see steam rising from his glowing red scales. `` We have worked for thiss moument for generationss! I will not let it be ruined by ssilverware, or dirtpiles, or anything elsse!!'' Just as Dave had finished, a rift in space above him opened, allowing a small spaceship to pass through before closing. The spaceship, no bigger than a small car, was hovering 20 feet above Daves scalely head. { Oh oh } 'Oh no, an Arbiter has arrived.' `` The fuck iss an Arbiter?!'' 'Reproduction is still irrelevant.' `` SSHUT UP!!!''

[ WP ] Season 30 of Game of Thrones

Note: I just watched Episode 1 of Season 4 and have n't read any of the books, so I do n't know what happens after that. Please no spoilers! This is also my first WP post, but constructive feedback is welcome. Also, just for fun I tried to do an unofficial screenplay format, hence the weird capitalization. -- - Fade in to a mound of swords, tips facing us. We hear footsteps on stone, slowly getting closer. Meanwhile, the camera zooms out until we recognize this as The Iron Throne. Camera sweeps around the throne, until we are in front of middle-aged DAENARYS sitting on the throne, face blank. After several seconds, in addition to the footsteps we now also hear the jangle of a maester's chain. Both sounds then stop, and we hear an aged but familiar voice, `` Your Grace...'' The camera turns to face SAM, in full maester garb. We see him approaching the camera for a few seconds, and then switches to a side view as he stops at the base of the stairs. DAENARYS nods and SAM climbs the first set of stairs towards the throne and stops. Looking from behind SAM we see DAENARYS in the throne which towers above her head. To her right stands SIR JORAH, after all these years, he's still protectively looking over her. The Hand of the King's medallion hangs from his armor. SAM: I've just received word from The Wall. It's still holding, but they do n't think it'll hold much longer. Attacks are growing in frequency and the summer heat slowly melts the ice. DAENARYS: What do you advise, Grand Meister? Can we do anything? SAM: Not yet, but I've heard rumors of an ancient text which tells of a weapon greater than any the world has ever known. I was reluctant to seek it out because it involves... A look of extreme discomfort crosses his face, almost wincing as he speaks the remaining words. SAM:... blood magic. DAENARYS: As protector of the realm, I must do everything in my power to defend my kingdom against the army of White Walkers. You must seek the RED WOMAN at once, perhaps she knows of this text. JORAH, disapprovingly: Khaleesi... DAENARYS: I hope to not need it. But if the wall may be breached, we must be prepared. In the meantime, my smiths work tirelessly to make swords and attows of Dragonstone, and convoys arrive weekly at Castle Black with these weapons and reinforcements. And Jorah, you must stop calling me that. I am... She stands, the room quiets and the theme song plays in the background, growing louder until the end of her sentence. DAENARYS, thundering: Daenarys Stormborn of House Targaryn, Queen of The Seven Kingdoms, Grandmother of Dragons and Protector of the Realm. Still facing her, we hear JORAH and SAM ( in unison ): Yes, my queen. Fade into the next scene. -- -- We see a green, lush, almost idyllic island at dusk. The sea is an unusually bright blue, which would be concerning if we did n't remember it as its namesake, The Sapphire Isle. This is Tarth. The camera pans upwards until we see a small group of children playing with wooden swords on a grassy field a ways from the beach. A woman stands in front of them, a sword fighting teacher. The camera continues upwards. We see a small castle, with a balcony over the field. Two figures sit on the balcony, indistinguishable. The camera glimpses a reflection off a golden hand. Cut to a closeup of JAMIE and BRIENNE watching the children below. They are both old, in their fifties. We can still make out JAMIE's unadulterated good looks, and BRIENNE still... not so much. But she still looks as if she could kill you on a moment's notice. They occasionally look towards each other and smile as one of the children playfully falls and over-exuberantly feigns injury. We hear in the distance, and from JAMIE and BRIENNE's perspective we see the field and the glowing water behind. ARYA: Alright, that's it for today. And remember, what do we say to Death? CHILDREN ( in unison ): NOT TODAY! The camera shifts to a closeup of ARYA and follows her movements. ARYA: Now inside, it's getting dark. The children drop their swords and run to the castle. ARYA sighs and collects the swords. She walks to a nearby house and throws the swords into a shed. Through the window, we see Needle, framed and mounted on her office wall. How did she end up here, doing this? She would never know. Fade to next scene. -- - I had to stop here today, but I have an idea for the storyline which I'd like to write if anyone's interested in me continuing.

[ RF ] The worst job interview anyone has ever had

He sat back in the chair, looking at the monitors behind me. Four of them were mounted a foot below ceiling height, all screens showed employees working. I glimpsed out the window to see the rows of cubicles, all with short walls so that the owner of this CPA firm could watch the employees constantly. *What a controlling bastard. * I was here for a contract job, working only for tax season. The owner said that would give me the place of honor right outside the office window that overlooked the cube farm. *Place of honor, my ass. * `` I've decided that the best way to verify that a potential employ will --'' he paused and steepled his fingers in font of his chin, like a smug villain in a cartoon, `` -- fit in, is to give them a personality test. Do you have time to do that?'' I wanted to tell him where to shove it because there was no way I wanted to work for him, but instead I nodded eagerly. `` I've done those before. Sure.'' `` This test is put out by a group that specializes in management.'' He named a certain religious group that I knew valued subservience. `` They're the ones who score it and then send me back the results. Not a lot of people pass it.'' *Just great. * I nodded and smiled like a bobble-head. God, this was getting old. He handed me the test, told me it was timed, and watched me like a hawk while I filled in the little bubbles. I did n't answer honestly, as he'd insisted, but instead drew from my knowledge of what the religious group valued. Test complete, he smiled smugly and told me that he'd get it scored and let my recruiter know if he wanted to proceed. I had n't even gotten home before my recruiter called. `` I do n't believe it! I've sent him fifteen people and no one has passed the personality test! He wants to make you an offer.'' I laughed. `` I'm going to decline, Bob.'' ( His name really is Bob. ) Bob was shocked. `` But he wants to offer you a job.'' I explained that I lied on the test. That I'd known he was looking for a blind follower and that was n't me. I'd just passed the exam to see if I could. Bob fell silent, mulling over my statement. `` So, if I was going to tell someone how to pass the test, what should I tell them?'' `` Tell them he wants blind obedience and they should taylor their answers to that. Tell them he's going to watch them constantly and probably counts the pens every night to make sure they do n't steal any.'' `` Oh,'' Bob grunted. `` Sound like the job, if they got it, would really suck.'' *No kiddin. * `` Find me something else Bob.'' It's three years later and Bob told me recently that he still has never found anyone who wanted to work for the guy.

[ WP ] A boy pretends he is an astronaut in order to help cope with concepts and situations he ca n't understand .

`` Disengaging from primary module. Do you copy?'' `` Copy, Solo 1. Confirm separation.'' `` Separation complete.'' `` Looks good. Ready when you are, Commander.'' `` Roger that. Engaging thrusters.'' Gazing upon the comet, Commander Harrison felt consumed by his awareness of its gravitational pull as he had for many months in this mission. Everything had centered around this grand celestial meeting. Now finally up close, the comet looked more lovely than he had imagined. The pull was so much stronger now, defying his most basic fears. Those deadly gaseous streams whirled off the comet's surface, in a dance both beautiful and terrifying. Harrison's approach was precise and controlled. Thrusters on full, his craft shuddered through clouds of fine carbon capable of eroding its metal skin. As he approached the thin atmosphere of the comet, he had to swerve to avoid a hail of icy projectiles the size of golf balls. The maneuver drew him toward the comet's sunlit side, where more gaseous jets bubbled through the comet's surface. Suddenly the sun blazed golden through his screens, blinding him for the instant before his eyes snapped shut. He eased back on the throttle and snapped the shielding visor of his helmet into place. `` Mission Control to Solo 1. Report!'' `` Sorry Mission Control. Holding back a little.'' `` Problems?'' `` Could n't maintain a visual. Making course corrections now. Rendezvous to Comet Ellie is still on.'' `` Proceed Solo 1. Be careful, Toby.'' `` Copy that MC.'' The renewed approach called for a more risky trajectory. Harrison focused all his thoughts on the dark side of the comet, imagining a cool, welcoming surface. He plunged the craft into an approaching dust plume, shielding him from the sun but leaving him blind to any hidden dangers. The recklessness of the course set in familiar feelings of panic as the craft shook and rolled but he fought the urge to pull away. Not this time, he promised himself as clouds of stormy grey billowed past the window. Hold on, he thought. Remember the gravity. Remember the pull. And then he was through. The comet's rocky surface loomed large before him and it was glorious in its perfection. He slammed the attitudinal controls, setting the landing sequence a little aggressively in his haste to join the surface. Outside he could see a chunk of hailstone shoot up past his window, and emerge into the broad sunlight where it condensed into a single clear teardrop. He turned away, his attention back on the surface. * The teardrop coursed its way down her cheek. Ellie Harrison did n't dare look Toby in the eye for fear of breaking the moment. Her 8-year old son held her in an embrace that was surprisingly strong. Standing across the room, Toby's father looked as stunned as she felt. She could read the elation in David's face, and a reflection of her own longing for this very moment. Closing her eyes to the torrent of feelings that overwhelmed her, she managed to hold perfectly still. Her son was hugging her for the very first time. That was enough.

[ WP ] The Earth is flat , you , as the head of NASA , have to explain to the incoming President why its a secret .

General Bolden made his way to the antechamber, as he had done twice before. He recalled with amusement how Presidents Bush and Obama simply laughed at him before carrying on with the briefing, just as his predecessors recalled tales of `` The Revelation'' dating all the way back to the Johnson administration. It began as a dare, something two drunken scientists made in a Houston bar back in the days of the Mercury program. If either of them made it to the office of the Administrator, they would assemble some official-looking presentation and bring it in for the President's in-brief. Something in private, very secret, plenty of pomp and circumstance for what would really just be an icebreaker at the beginning of a long and boring meeting. It was largely forgotten by all who made it up, until Jim Fletcher remembered a funny story he had heard at a Christmas party a few years ago. He saw who Nixon's successor would be, figured Gerry Ford had a sense of humor, and gave it a shot. What he did n't expect was that President Ford would buy it hook, line, and sinker. To save NASA the embarrassment, he quickly had official reports drawn up with shaky physics to explain why millennia of accepted science was wrong, and why it had to be kept a secret from the community at large. Over the years, it became a tradition, part of the President-Elect's initiation into the country's highest office. Most of them figured that with that much technobabble, it had to be true, though a few struggled with it. After Jimmy Carter was elected, there was some concern, as he had sailed around the world in his Navy days. The physicists cooked up a line about gravitational lensing near the edge of the earth causing ships to imperceptibly turn away, and Carter took it as truth. Reagan laughed it off, H.W. ignored it, and Clinton believed it all. Their next concern came in 2001, when Senator Glenn let an old colleague know that President Bush had been asking about it. After savoring the mortified look on Mr. Goldin's face, the Senator let him know that he was one of the young astronauts who came up with the joke in the first place. Even with the years of tradition behind it, it was still a nervous time for the Administrator. To be found out was to risk dismissal or worse, risk losing funding for NASA. Still, there were certain things that just had to be done. Certain rituals to be observed, for old time's sake. General Bolden nervously cleared his throat as he said those words his predecessors had said so many times before: `` Mr. President, could we please speak in private?''

[ WP ] You hold the job title in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter where you say random words looking for spells

I'm really not sure why I took this job. I have family members who are retired Aurors. They view me with a mix of shame and despair. I've got family members who are pardoned Death Eaters, and they feel the same way. I may not be the black sheep of the family, thanks to the aforementioned Death Eaters, but I do n't get asked a lot of questions at family dinners. Oh well, fuck them. I get paid decently enough to sit on some semi inhabited island around Iceland to come up with new spells. Why am I near Iceland? Because my job is the equivalent of throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. Highly volatile spells come out of my research. The Ministry created this post about a decade after they finally put Voldemort down for good. As the son of decorated Aurors, I was able to get the job pretty easily. My resume boasted both the pedigree and the skill. Also, as my former supervisor said, `` I'm one crazy son of a bitch.'' He's my former supervisor because one day, working on a teleportation spell, he vanished. His whereabouts are unknown, but there are rumors that he's using his magic to great success in Vegas, hustling blackjack. I always liked that guy. Now, I'm the boss. I have a new recruit. Fresh faced kid out of Hogwarts, who takes everything way too seriously. I worry about his ability to hold up in this line of work. Between the remote location and the dangers of our work, he's ripe to crack up. `` So, what are we working on today?'' the Kid asks. `` The Ministry wants us to start coming up with countermeasures, just in case the Old Ones rise.'' `` But, but, my Defend Against The Dark Arts Professor said that the Old Ones can never rise again.'' `` You're not at Hogwarts anymore, the stars could be right at any moment, then we all could be shit out of luck.'' I have to remind the kid of that a lot. He's still wearing his robes, looking like he's about to go to some damn Potions lecture. Meanwhile, I used a proven teleportation spell ( I do n't fuck around with those ) to `` borrow'' full SWAT Team gear from the Dallas Police Department. They have nice toys in Texas. `` So, what's our first spell going to be?'' `` Special banishment spell,'' I reply. `` One to cross over dimensional walls.'' No wizard, even that Potter guy, could singlehandedly banish an Old One. But if enough talented wizards got involved, the spell might have a chance. Might. The Kid did n't need to know that part. `` There's a baseline spell I put together to get rid of a few Dementors,'' I continue. `` Did you watch the presentation?'' `` Yes, I did. Although we never used that strange device at Hogwarts `` I shake my head. Hogwarts should really at least mention what a DVD players is to its students. `` Okay, we're going to basically take that spell and crank it up a few notches. Let's make sure you've got the basic spell down before we continue.'' `` Alright,'' he replies `` Remember: right arm fully extended, off to the side. Swing it in a controlled motion across your body.'' `` I got you,'' he says, a little more confident than I like. Damn Gryffindors are always like that. `` What's the activation phrase?'' `` Piercus Four,'' he answers. `` Good, let's see you do it.'' The kid steps over to the other side of the room. As soon as he goes into the motion, I know it has gone to shit. He does n't extend how arm far enough from his body and he moves way too fast. Before I can yell for him to stop, the fateful words come from his mouth. `` Piercus Four!'' The space around him blurs. By keeping his arm close and going too fast he redirects the spell at himself. My worst fears are confirmed when that space stabilizes. The Kid is gone. Shit. Now I have to go find him.

[ WP ] Despite years of research , vetting , and training , the first person to contact extraterrestrial intelligent life goes WAY off script .

Bill slammed the empty shotglass upside down on the counter. `` Seriously! They never talk about how much... Ummm... Paperwork! Yeah! And shouting! They never mention that in the pamphlet!'' He reached over the floating counter top and grabbed another green bag from the shelf. After uncapping the top, the liquid slowly slid out and splashed into another shotglass in his hand. The counter bobbed down slowly as Bob dropped the bag on it. `` I signed up to go see the sights and meet new cultures! Not to get stuck in an office signing contracts and making ads! Paper after paper after- ugh- paper... Meeting the president even gets boring after the 20th time! So many questions that we had answered in our report months ago! You never realize how much people do n't read until you do something abnormal. They always want to ask the same question but hear the answer from you!'' Bill had forgotten that he was still holding the glass and his angry arm waving sent tiny orbs of the green liquid onto uniform of the person next to him. Aweah'jebe did n't notice though. His head was thumping and he was slumped over on the counter. He made a series of gurgling and clicking noises. From a band around his neck came a humming and then the translated message: `` I know what you mean! Even here! Our overlords- burp- put tons of pressure on us. We have n't even left our own planet! We've just been chilling here entertaining you. We're a welcoming committee! It's a good time going out and drinking and picking up girls but-'' `` Yeah! Despite the gills, the green skin, and the really big eyes, the girls here are pretty dang good looking!'' `` Oh yeah, definitely. Just wait until they legalize cross-species marriage! Your gravity is so much worse. You can do crazy things here. I ca n't imagine doing it with a girl so heavy and so slowly... Ummm... What was I- Oh right! What I do n't understand is how- ugh- you're drinking me under the table so easily!'' `` Probably that dang gravity again. Alcohol just floods in and out on Earth. Here, the alcohol chills in your blood for such a long time! Your kidneys barely have the work and the good times last so much longer! Which reminds me: Here is another shot!''

[ TT ] A retired soldier sets out on a journey ... and gets entangled in mob warfare between various magical factions .

Akron returned to his room, another day gone and he was no closer to finding work. He was a good swordsman, but the army had just dismissed a legion of good swordsmen back to a kingdom who did not need a single one. He might have found work as a Night Patrolman had his unit been in one of the companies nearer home when the war was over. As it was, he and likely most of his brothers in arms were living on tabs and promises of payment. He was beginning to wonder how much farther he could make his'soldier's honor' stretch. He had nearly gone to bed when there was a knock at his door. He opened it to find an empty walkway. He stepped out to look down into the tavern and saw no one rushing for the door. When he turned back to his room he saw a note just on the other side of his door. It read, `` Akron, Meet at King's Fountain. I have work. - Pitch.'' Akron folded the note. Pitch had never been a brave man in the company, but he was the most resourceful. What he lacked in holding the line he more than made up for in his scrounging after the line no longer needed to be held, most of which he kept for himself. -- - Akron waited at King's Fountain as the letter asked. A chill swept through the empty square and he wished he had brought his coat. The hairs on his neck pricked when he heard a set of footsteps approaching. `` Akron old boy,'' a voice called, `` I did n't think you'd come.'' He held his arms out wide. Akron turned, `` You were right to think so,'' he replied, keeping his hands in his pockets. `` C'mon sarge,'' Pitch goaded, `` Is that any way to greet an old man-at-arms.'' `` As I recall, your arm stayed sheathed more often than not,'' Akron said back, a hint of bitterness coloring his words. If Pitch was disappointed he did not show it. `` You said you had work,'' he laid down his cards. They were not and had never been friends, but the promise of work bought Pitch a meeting. `` Alright,'' Pitch said, slumping a little, `` I work with one of the Mage Schools.'' Akron waved his hand, `` No,'' he said, `` No thank you, I'll have none of that.'' Pitch raised his palms, `` Please, Sarge, just hear me out.'' Akron shook his head, but then nodded. `` They just need some muscle, Sarge. You do n't got to do anything, you do n't got to say anything. You just need to be in the room to make my guys look tougher than they are.'' `` Tougher?'' Akron spat, remembering the power the wizards wielded during the war. Some nights he could still see the crawling embers on his men when the enemy Fire Schools unleashed their power on his lines. `` Why would they need to look any more dangerous than they are?'' `` Sarge, it's just a power play. This school's not a big one, they just need to bring up their numbers a bit at the meeting,'' Pitch said, shrugging his shoulders. `` What meeting?'' Akron asked, squinting at the scoundrel. Pitch shook his head, `` I should n't even be telling you this,'' he said as his eyes widened. `` Talk.'' `` They want a seat at the Mage's Circle,'' he said, `` Something big is about to happen in the city, and they want a part of it when it all goes down. No one's taking them seriously because they do n't got the numbers.'' `` So what?'' Akron asked, `` You add to them one guy who ca n't use magic?'' `` Not just one, Sarge,'' Pitch said already starting to wince, `` I got some of the other guys from the company.'' `` Gods on high, Pitch,'' Akron sighed, `` All of them?'' `` No, Sarge, not all of them. Some of the boys did n't want no part of this. Still shaky from the Mage Fire. You remember do n't ya Sarge?'' Akron nodded and clenched his jaw. `` I'll pay you standard plus what I would have paid the other guys,'' Pitch said, `` It wo n't work without you, Sarge. You got ta get them back in line, whip them up, look impressive. The mages I work with will take care of the rest.'' Akron began to shake his head, but his stomach grumbled loud. A hint of a smile crept across Pitch's mouth. `` How much does it pay?'' Akron asked. Pitch tossed a bag of gold coins to his old superior. `` That's just what the other guys get,'' he said already grinning, `` You get that bag and four more like it.'' Akron looked inside and saw more gold than he'd seen in a long time. `` Fine,'' he said. Pitch clapped his hands, `` Good man, Sarge.'' `` But I wo n't take more than the men,'' Akron said, `` divi it all up evenly.'' `` Alright, Sarge, alright. If that's what you want,'' Pitch said as he wrung his hands. `` The Archmage is gon na love you.''

[ TT ] A person is bragging about their time as a soldier . Being a veteran , you find out this person is a fake . You see him again bragging .

`` Who here has been in an aDAM attack?'' I said, addressing the college audience. I was glad I was here, giving my account of the aDAM attacks. It was a good job; I sacrificed too damn much for this world, and it had given me little in return. Being a touring guest lecturer across the world was a dream come true. Two kids raised their hands in the fact. The girl looked like she was about to fall asleep, but the guy poked her with a cane-yes, a someone still used a *cane* in 2112. The guy also raised his hand, his face grinning broadly. It really made me want to smack it right off. `` Interesting. There's at least 300, no, 500 students in this lecture hall? Usually, I get a lot more. I'm sorry. I apologize for not doing my duty as a U.N. soldier. Civilian casualties have been rising over the recent aDAM Encounters. Let us have a moment of silence and pray for all the students who could not make it here today.'' And then there was that moment of silence. After lowering my head for the smallest of tilts, I opened my eyes early to find those same two kids looking at me. The girl looked bored, and the guy looked like he was trying his hardest crack up silently. It looked like he was having a spasm. `` You. Girl with the auburn hair and guy with the cane. Get up here,'' I demanded. The girl looked annoyed-did she have resting bitch face or something? -and elbowed the guy, who could n't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. The rest of the auditorium was quiet as the duo made their way forwards. It made the cane's impacts with the floor that much louder. `` You two are also U.N. soldiers, are n't you? Cains?'' `` Eh? Yeah, how did you know?'' the girl said, looking surprised. `` Arrogant brats,'' I growled. `` Stop lying. First of all, even if you were Cains, you're not a soldier yet. You two are still students.'' `` Well, duh, we're students in a college auditorium...'' `` Do n't give me that attitude,'' I snarled. I wanted to slap her face. In fact, the guy's too. He gave up standing and was rolling around on the floor. I put an arm proudly on my black uniform. `` I am a U.N. soldier, part of the 82nd generation. I have fought in the previous 12th aDAM Encounter, when the aDAMs decimated Paris and terrorized everyone in France. I was pinned to the ground for hours when the level of the Gravity Field surpassed everybody's expectations. Do you know how hard it is to be helpless, unable to move? I only survived because I drank the rainwater that sipped into my mouth. I could n't do anything as the aDAMs stepped onto my fellow soldiers and brothers. And you, *you* have the gall to pretend to be U.N. soldiers?!? You have not been in my situation! Have you been bragging to your friends that you're one of the lucky few to be Cains, defenders of humanity? Do n't make me laugh. You're sad, pitiful, human beings.'' This time, the girl also began cracking up. `` Ooooh boy,'' she giggled. `` This guy is really a looner.'' Then the guy finally began to speak. `` Please dude, stop speaking. You're embarrassing us. A true Cain never talks about past aDAM Encounters they've been in. They're too traumatizing.'' `` Too traumatizing for spoiled kids like *you*, I presume. And what about this?'' I said, clasping my uniform. `` Where are yours? Let me guess. They were somehow vaporized by the aDAMs, leaving you barely alive to tell the tale?'' `` Wow, how did you guess?'' the guy said, raising his eyebrows. `` I think mine's in the laundry,'' the girl said. She had a pinky in her ear, digging around for some earwax or something. Again, it made me want to tear their heads off. `` Who's dead body did you get yours from?'' `` Enough. Have an arm wrestle contest with me,'' I growled, lying down on the ground. `` Arm wrestle contest?'' they both said simultaneously. Then they both began laughing again. `` It is below me to use violence,'' I said. `` But I need to teach either of you to learn your places in front of a true Cain.'' `` Sure. Jenn, you got this,'' the guy said. The girl sighed, but also laid down. I'll concede. I was not actually a Cain. The boy was correct; I looted the uniform off a corpse. But the experience was true. I was in Paris when the aDAMs hit and destroyed my life forever. My family was killed instantly: fiancee, parents, and everybody else at my wedding. Only my one-year old daughter was left alive, born out of wedlock. But despite our sins, my entire family, none of us deserved to die. It's a horrible feeling, having your child die in your arms, because the damned Cains took too damned long to slay the aDAMs. So I undertook my revenge. Of course I could n't use violence directly and suicide bomb into their headquarters or something. But I could embarrass Cains, like those two naive fools who thought they could challenge me. My arm was n't real; lost in the Parisian aDAM Encounter, I had it replaced with a robotic arm. covered with real skin. A strong robotic arm, one that would not lose to even Cains. The charade has been going on for a while, and been going well. I was having my revenge. `` So cocky you think you can beat me, little girl?'' I said, readying my arm. To my surprise, she took her pinky out of her ear and placed that sole finger on my palm. `` Ready?'' she said, and at that moment, I knew I was fucked. A split second later, bolts and screws were flying around everywhere, electricity spewing from splayed wires as I stared in shock. `` God, you're such a dumb dude if you did n't think the U.N. was watching you,'' the guy said, yawning. `` Please. H.Q. wanted to expose you directly with a public announcement, but we Cains convinced them that we wanted to have some fun. Mannnn it was hilarious seeing you'beat' Cains in arm-wrestling contests who pretended to try their hardest. Shame Jenn here was getting too pissed off.''

[ WP ] `` Sir , our assault on the humans is failing . '' `` What ! '' roared the alien overlord . `` How is this possible ? '' `` Well , um ... they ate our ammunition . ''

The vast hull of the X'tac ship emerged a million miles from the surface of the earth. Hatu sat in his chrome throne in the control room, gazing at the blue planet slowly spinning beneath them. They'd sent scouts eons ago and now the time to reap the planet's bounty had come. He lifted his fingers in an almost absent gesture. Beside him, his second barked out the orders. All around him, subordinates scurried around, beginning the assault. Canisters of poison shot out from the cannons. The canisters had been made to explode upon entry into the atmosphere. The acid would vaporize, but then, when it rained, it would rain acid. All there was left to do now was wait and Hatu was patient. Hatu was not _this_ patient. They'd been raining acid on the planet for weeks. Still the planet rotated upon its tilted axis and still the humans did not come and beg mercy. He'd been told kings would beg to give him water and algae. That he could plunder their lands to his fill. Why did the humans not cry for succor? A subordinate bowed low before him. Hatu waved his hand and his second barked at the subordinate to proceed. `` Sir,'' the subordinate said, shaking in fear but admirably keeping the tremor out of his voice, `` our attack is failing. We are running low on ammunition.'' `` What!'' Hatu roared. There was just the briefest moment of satisfaction when everyone started at the power of his voice. `` How is this possible?'' The subordinate looked down now, too cowed to meet Hatu's eyes. Hatu glowered at him. `` You will answer my question, scum.'' `` Sir,'' the subordinate said, voice barely above a whisper, `` the earthlings. They-they appear to be…they appear to be drinking our poison.'' `` In fact, many people have been collecting it in large urns,'' another voice piped up somewhere behind him. Hatu could feel the eyes of his subordinates upon him, looking to him for guidance, but all he could think was, `` If the acid from the orange fruit could not burn the humans, if they could so boldly drink that, what use was any of their weapons?''

[ WP ] `` My fellow Americans ... '' The newly elected President begins . `` I am gay , and have been my whole life . '' Give me your best account of the country 's reaction .

Janice turned to me, her big blue eyes still full of childish innocence. Damn - I'd forgotten that she was watching the Presidential Inauguration for a school project. `` Daddy,'' she began, `` what does the President mean? What's'gay'?'' `` Well, honey...'' I began, but trailed off as I tried to think of a way to explain it to a five year old. `` Uh... Well, you know how Mommy and Daddy like to hold hands, and to cuddle, and kiss, and stuff?'' `` Yeah! It's funny when Mommy pinches your butt when you're not looking, and makes you squeak!'' she giggled. Kids, man - I'd forgotten what it was like to be so amused by the word `` butt''. Had I ever been that small, that innocent? I waited for her giggles to subside before I carried on. `` Well, sweetheart,'gay' means that he - the President - he likes to do that stuff with a boy, not a girl like Mommy.'' I could see the confusion in her eyes as she struggled to process this new information. Damn you, McCain, for making me explain this to her! She's not old enough for this; she's not ready! *I'M* not ready! Janice opened her mouth to speak. I knew what was coming; I'd opened the door to a lifetime of sexual deviancy. My sweet little girl was gone forever. Suddenly I realized she'd something, and in my worry, I'd completely missed it. `` Sorry, sweetheart - what did you say?'' I asked, fearing her response. What fresh hell have I unlocked? `` I said, I'm hungry. Can I have a cookie? Please, Daddy?'' I was stunned, unable to respond at first. `` Uhm. Sure,'' I answered. `` Get one for your brother, too.'' Huh. I guess that maybe what two consenting adults do behind closed doors is n't that big of a deal after all. Even when they *are* public figures.

[ WP ] A child has the ability to control every aspect of their dreams and treats their life as only a waiting period between dreams . Convince them that life is worth their effort .

Gieta sat in the field near her house surrounded by daisies and sweet-grass, weaving the two together in absent boredom. This place used to be her favorite place. It was a place where any adventure could happen, where any story from the imagination of an eight year old girl could and would come to life. Not any longer though. The grass seemed dull. The flowers seemed listless. How dreary it was. She did n't want to be there anymore. Gietas train of thought was cut off from the sound of footsteps striding through the grass. `` Uncle Brathe!'' She exclaimed, glad to see someone who would help relieve her problem of nothing to do. Uncle Brathe was always a favorite. If Uncle Brathe did n't have a good story to tell ( which he always did ) or if he did n't bring sweets with him ( which he always did ) or if he did n't pick her up and rub his bearded cheek against hers ( may the powers forbid! ) he would still be her favorite. He still remembers how to play. As she ran to meet him, her Uncle lifted her off the ground and greeted her as he always did. `` Uncle, where have you been? You have not visited me for weeks now!'' `` I know Darlin', I know. Your old Uncle has been busy.'' `` I wished for you to visit every day and you never came. But now that you're here, we can play!'' Her Uncle set her down, and as he did the cheerful demeanor diminished. He crouched down beside her in the over bearing shade of the orchard. `` Actually Darlin' I thought we could just talk for a bit.'' Gietas face scrunched up. Her parents had been talking to her an awful lot lately. About how she spends too much of her time dreaming of things. She did n't see the problem. `` Did my Mom tell you to do this?'' She asked, feeling slightly betrayed. `` No sweet pea, she did n't. I have n't visited your Mom in a long time because she still has n't forgiven me and you know how upset she gets when she sees me.'' Uncle Brathe started weaving dead sweet grass together as he continued. `` You need to understand darlin' that the things you can do when you're asleep is a rare gift that many others ca n't do, nor can they comprehend what it is like.'' He set aside the grass, and reached for leaves on the saggy tree. `` I understand though, because that's exactly what I used to do and look how I ended up.'' Geita went to speak but he stopped her. `` I know it's like godhood described in the old tomes, to be an ultimate creator but the problem is that you are not a God of the Beginning. You are a sweet little girl with freckles. You must feed your dreams with the experience of life.'' He stood and picked up a dried up stick, as a knight would draw his sword. `` Do you remember when we saved the village from the Shadow Breathers? You learned those sword tricks from your Father.'' He slashed the air with his stick. `` Or what about the time you wove a web so great that we lifted the Ocean King to the surface so he could see his own childrens wedding? Your mother taught you to weave, you know.'' Gieta picked up a stick of her own and swatted at her Uncle. `` Well ya, but real life is so boring! I ca n't control anything around me and I have to do everything that everyone else says.'' They weaved in and out of the lack luster orchard sparring back and forth. `` If you do n't live a little now and again darlin, eventually the dreams will get just as boring. The color will slowly start fading, and the adventure becomes a routine. Life is what creates dreams, not the other way around.'' The thought stopped Gieta as she lunged with her substitute sword. `` What did you do then, Uncle? When your dreams became gray and still?'' `` I blamed the waking world. I cursed it for lacking everything I had once been able to do in my thoughts. But I was wrong, sweet Gieta. I was so wrong. What I did in the name of dreaming was unforgivable.'' They had stopped sword fighting now and held each others gaze for a long moment. A breeze drifted through, much colder than normal. `` I think I understand, Uncle. I will try to feed my dreams, but it sounds terribly hard.'' Uncle Brathe kneeled in front of Gieta. `` It is my dear. It's very hard and very important that you start as soon as you can.'' `` Ok Uncle. I promise I'll try. As soon as I wake up.''

[ WP ] You are the Dark One , about to meet with the Heroes sworn to destroy you . Describe your toil as you get every detail *just so* for the upcoming confrontation , as you want their first final encounter to be a special one .

`` By the thousand teeth of Scrolith, Simon, it's *hiss, roar, roar, claw! *'' The basilisk looked crestfallen, `` Sorry. Thought it was hiss, claw, roar roar.'' I sighed through my long-dead teeth, `` How many months have we been rehearsing this?'' Simon's tail lashed sullenly. *'' How many? `` * He mumbled something unintelligible. `` That's right my lizardy friend, *three months*.'' `` Sorry,'' he muttered again. `` By the Dark, it's four things Simon. *Four things! *'' I whirled away, my midnight cloak swirling around me imperiously. I'd been practising that for *years*. Around the cavern scores of dark creatures stood, dressed in their full costumes. `` OK,'' I clapped my bony hands together with a *crack*, `` places everyone, let's take this from the top - cue the skeleton vanguard.'' A dozen skeletons skittered forward, dressed in gilded armour. I'd spent a small fortune on their outfits - carefully ageing the metal in sulphur vents to make them that much more authentic. One skeleton stood awkwardly behind the others, naked. `` Fredrick!'' I snarled. He shifted behind another skeleton. `` I can see you through his ribcage.'' Fred shifted back out. If a skull could look ashamed, his wore that expression. *'' Where is your armour? `` * His teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. Another skeleton put up a golden-gloved hand, `` He lost it gambling with the orcs,'' the snitch growled. Turning, I regarded the orcish blade-dancers. `` Tholo?'' I queried of the leader, wearing a golden helmet, vambraces and greaves. `` Hey man, I won this gear fair n' square.'' I fixed him with my burning blue eyes. `` Alright, whatever. I wan na get paid for it though.'' He took the armour off and handed it to a still-shaking Fredrick. I clapped my hands again, `` Let's begin. Ahem. *Skeleton horde, ATTACK! *'' I screeched theatrically. With a chittering roar, they ran forward, swinging their golden scimitars. `` Good! Now, fall back as the heroes overpower you - do n't worry, you'll be resurrected for scene three.'' Obligingly, the undead soldiers collapsed into neat piles of bones. I mustered my *evil voice*, `` Curse you brave heroes! But you will be no match for the *BASILISK! *'' Simon stared blankly into space. *'' Simon,'' * hissed one of the dark elves, `` you're up!'' The basilisk rattled forward, `` Oh right. Um, yeah! *Hisssssssss*'' he clawed the air, then roared twice. The cavern fell silent as I placed my head in my hands. It was going to be a *very* long night.

[ FF ] Make me gag with a vivid description of an everyday object .

You can find them everywhere: in old coat jackets, on gritty parking lot asphalt, bunched together between stitched-together patches of dead flesh. If someone were to hand you one, you would n't think twice before you took it. And why should you? It's not like you personally tore the cotton from a bug-infested field, mashed it flat, stained it a dingy green, and painted it with a perfect representation of a dead man. But you did lay our bare, uncovered, unwashed hands upon it -- just like millions of people before you, and millions after you. You made an exchange, all right, and it was n't currency.

[ WP ] You get one random power from this generator . Talk about your day

`` You're aware of how this works, right?'' the priestess said as she brewed the potion. `` You drink and enter a deep sleep. Only a few seconds... Or a few days. The stronger the power, the longer you sleep.'' The young man wore only simple robes and badly worn sandals while she wore an elegant gown. With the silver chalice she brought over to him, inside held the potion. It both shined brightly while it was pitch black, was both light and heavy and filled the room with hope and dread. `` Drink,'' she said as she handed him the chalice. It did n't just enter like any other liquid. It slipped in like a slime, refusing to part no matter how much his jaw or tongue fought against it. He could feel it slide down into his stomach throughout. It had literally no taste, no feeling but it just slid further. He could somehow... Sense it. Only when it had reached his stomach did he feel anything else as he began to fall over. He could feel the sheer scope of his powers, how small and large they were. He knew just how small and fine the world was, how it all worked. Atoms... Small packets of energy that everything was made up from. However, there were smaller things than that. Protons, neutrons and electrons, how they interacted with the world... But his power was over quarks, smaller then. He could change and control those smaller objects. And light... He could control, make and destroy it. No... You ca n't create or destroy, only change... But that no longer applied to him. He now had sovereign control over the very concepts of life and death and could create and destroy to his will. Then he saw the sheer scope. He could easily see the entire world... Several worlds, all spinning around the sun which he now saw for what it truly was, a large flame in the void. Soon, he could preceive hundreds, then thousands, then millions of stars spinning together into a sinlgle vortex... Before he saw millions of galaxies, all floating within a blackened void before he could only perceive them as he did the quarks... Before expanding itself millions upon millions of times... And he could see and control the small on the same scale as he did the large. He could see the very definition of existence itself. He knew, he saw, he could, he would, he should - create, destroy, change, acknowledge, be... ***EVERYTHING!!! *** Within the smallest fraction of a second, he had reached his true power. It was too much for his mortal body which had violently exploded, destroying the mountain from which the temple was stationed along with everyone on or nearby. He only acknowledged it with a small slither of thought but he did regret the destruction caused. Within the same second as his death, everything was back to normal save his disappearance. He was now the master of existence. He had the collective knowledge of everything that has happened, will happed and is happening... But he could n't hide how... *giddy* he was. He had always been bullied by the others in his village for being the weakest and smallest child. They all or ceived great powers from the potion but they were microscopic - is that a word? Well, not until a Dutch spectacle maker invents it in the 1500s so... 7,000 years roughy. But he just did n't like how history unfolded! A group of fanatics always using the perceived existence of an all-powerful being to enforce a rule where so many suffered... But he just could n't end suffering in the world. Of course, he'll create a kingdom the likes have never been seen! But he needed a body... Well the universe was his body but that was n't the point. He needed a form to interact with mortals and not frighten them, but one that showed he was above their station. So... Why not just create a new universe to be his body!? But that would be redundant... Ah, what did he care? The laws of the universe was his bitch and existence was his toy! It was n't too hard to create a new universe where there were creatures on each planet, in each solar system, in each galaxy, living and dying constantly... And he folded this universe into itself countless times until it was a vessel fit only for him. He scanned the minds for what they all considered perfect and used them to make a single form - old with a flowing beard of pure light to show endless age and wisdom, a stern gaze that perceives all and demanded respect, a powerful and perfect body of infinite and endless strength, 10 beautiful wings of pure white dove feathers that showed not only speed that he could fly through the universe but also endless compassion. He was draped in pure, golden robes signifyingneternal wealth but also sandals of pure red, smooth leather, signifying the endless journey that he could walk with a single step. Over his head he placed hundreds of rings that floated above his head, each with beautiful jewellery which showed the endless kingdoms he now and forever ruled. The same meaning was within the throne made from perfect gold that he now sat upon, which also represented the endless sight from which he could see all his lands. He was now within the centre of the universe and ready to rule but... He needed an army. Creating another universe, he tore out whole galaxies and molded them into his soldiers, the likes of which have never been seen before. Some were human, some were inanimate objects. He was proud of the Grigori, powerful dragons that could feed on suns at His command. He stood from His throne and with a single step He and His army were now on the moon of His home world. He already knew the inevitable outcome, that He would be king of this world before it rotated halfway on its axis. He led the charge upon the world, ready to start His rule. At the same time, had also discovered dinosaurs! ( First time lucky! Monotheistic deity physiology http: //powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Monotheistic_Deity_Physiology )

[ WP ] Satan faces the issues of being a single parent to the babies and children sacrificed to him

Finding good help around here is nearly impossible. Do you think the kind of people willing to sacrifice babies and children to a supposedly bloodthirsty entity make good babysitters? Spoiler alert: they don ’ t. They really, really don ’ t. So that leaves me, Satan, with—what is it now, like 250,000? —babies to take care of. Throughout the millennia I have changed thousands upon thousands of diapers, prepared millions of bottles, and sung countless lullabies. And in case this wasn ’ t clear enough, let me reiterate: I do it all on my own. Now, I ’ m not looking for praise here—although let ’ s be honest, I deserve it—I just want to set the record straight on the whole sacrificing babies thing. I'm actually a really nice guy, a nice guy who, as it so happens, never asked anyone to kill any babies. This baby sacrifice issue has been a serious blight on my reputation since the beginning. All people ever talk about is the baby sacrifice! Here I am, acting as a surrogate parent to a ton of kids that aren ’ t mine, kids that I never even asked for, while everyone upstairs gossips about what a bad, baby killing guy I am. As if I don ’ t already have enough on my plate! Oh, and trust me, whenever I find out which one of these degenerates started the rumor that I crave “ the blood of the innocent ” and “ bathe in the blood of the unborn, ” he or she is headed straight to Malebolge. Honestly, as if everyone down here doesn ’ t already know that I bathe in mineral water. “ Blood of the unborn, ” yeah right. Not with these sensitive pores. Well here I go, officially setting the record straight: remove baby sacrifice from the satanic agenda. I do not want it, I never wanted it, please stop. I ’ m at my wits end. I work day in and day out looking after all these infants, and for what? A reputation for being a big ol ’ jerk? For evil ’ s sake, I ’ m doing the best I can. If I ever come across as mean, cut me some slack. As a single father of 250,000, I think I'm entitled to being a little cranky once in a while.

[ WP ] After Earth is destroyed , the surviving humans colonize two different planets . All contact between the two groups was lost , until they rediscover each other thousands of years later .

It was a strange occurrence, honestly. At first, you're sitting in your office, fiddling about with the newspaper you forgot to read earlier that morning, and then you get a phone call. Now, do n't get me wrong - This is n't peculiar for me. When you work late, your fiancee gets worried. I totally understood every time she called. However, this phone call was a lot different. I was sitting around with the newspaper, casually glancing at my computer screen as the data from the day's astronomical scan ran through my system. Before I could take a sip of the late-night *kaveh, * my phone rang. As I was about to mutter sweet nothings into my girl's ear, I was hastily interrupted by a gruff voice. He was my superior, Master Gregory. `` Harry,'' he said, his voice unsteady from panting. `` I need you in the observatory at once.'' I was concerned for him. It sounded like he was about to die. `` Master,'' I replied with a brow raised. `` What's wrong? Are you alright?'' `` No, no, nothing of the sort. Master Sanderson has just discovered something on the outer observatory post on the second satellite. He wants to stream the feed directly into ours. Get down here as soon as you can!'' As he hung up, I quickly pulled my jacket from the hanger and pulled it on, grabbing my *kaveh* before sliding the door open. Thankful it was in an aluminum container, I rushed downstairs as the *kaveh* sloshed about in its housing. It took me a few minutes to run across the complex. As I reached the domed building atop the westerly mountain, I took a quick glance above, looking at the second of our planet's two satellites in the sky. Sliding my hand into the groove of the door, I slid the observation's sliding doors into their pocket and stepped inside. Master Gregory clasped my forearm in greeting as he pat me on the back, leading me to the domed facility's interior. Approaching a console in the middle, the screen that was streaming the section of the night's sky our planet-bound telescope was observing changed to that of another perspective; An older gentleman's face was plastered on screen, with the expression of an excited schoolboy. `` Masters Gregory and Anastas,'' he greeted us. We bowed at his image before he continued. `` We on the second satellite are so excited to reveal a remarkable find. We're not sure if it's confirmed, so we're sending the images to you.'' Wanting, Gregory and I leaned on the railing next to the center console. As the images loaded up, we could not believe our eyes. It was a structure, we knew that much. `` Master,'' I asked, clearly dumbfounded. `` Is this an actual, artificial structure?'' `` Very much so, Master Anastas. And before you ask, no, it's not one of our own scouting drones. Its design is nothing in our schematic database.'' `` Any transmissions?'' The old man tapped his chin in thought. `` Sort of. It's a line of beeps that's reminiscent of the old Boors code. I'd say that it was one of ours, but its difference in code is so different.'' `` Are we going to notify the government?'' `` The Bureau of Outer Space Affairs has already been notified. We've been prepping a shuttle in the time we've been speaking.'' We nodded and continued to inspect the construct on screen. The images that were on screen were clearly alien. An elongated spacecraft, with some sort of engine sticking out of the back and wings on the sides. This was intended for atmospheric flight. I pulled on my tie to loosen it. This is very disconcerting. I raised my concerns. Sanderson assured me. `` We're lucky to have bases on both the lunar surfaces, or else it would've taken weeks to prepare for a launch on the planet. We'll have our answers here within the hour. In fact...'' He trailed off and pressed a button on his own console, exchanging the static images for a live feed of the white shuttle approaching this otherworldly object. We saw the shuttle slowly approach the vessel over the course of half an hour. The feed switched from satellite-based cameras to the shuttle exterior as it oriented itself parallel to the alien vessel. `` We've established physical contact with external clamps,'' the shuttle's captain confirmed on the radio as we wiped our brows. `` Scans show that there is a hatch on the dorsal side. Lieutenant Crothers has volunteered for the space walk.'' All of us observing were on the tips of our toes. The video switched to a primary camera based on the outside of Crothers' helmet. His microphone picked up his heavy breathing; He was scared, or nervous. Probably both - I knew that if I were in his position, I'd be. His hand approached a button that looked like a symbol to open the ship. As he pressed it, an unseen hatch exposed itself. A discharge of air pushed itself from the creases as it pushed itself outwards. I chortled as I inwardly remarked how odd it was to have swinging doors. However, as I began to overtly note it, I saw a sight on the screen as the cosmonaut's feed did n't showcase the interior of the ship, but *an actual being* poking out from inside. Crothers had his hands extended, showing he had nothing in his hands, unlike our guest, who had a glowing weapon in her own. It was n't the fact that he had a clearly advanced piece of technology, but it was another person. A *human woman*, with what looked like a suit intended for vacuum combat, yelling at us silently from behind her helmet. `` I see similar symbols to ours, but there are no solid matches!'' Gregory exclaimed. `` Damn it, who are these people?'' `` I do n't think they're from here, Master,'' I replied. `` But I do n't think we should start pissing them off.''

[ WP ] Every authority is baffled but for the past few years everyone has been receiving a Christmas present . To some delight and others horror , the gifts are based on how 'good ' you 've been .

All of this should be such a joy, a wondrous time where people all around the world are brimming with love and excitement over what they might have been brought. But it ’ s not, I ’ m worried, I ’ m borderline panicked. Every single year, I ’ ve felt my anxiety grow as the temperature drops, all because of one question nagging me between the ears. Am I on the naughty list this year? And there ’ s no answer, there ’ s never an answer because we weren ’ t given a guideline, there ’ s no clear line drawn in the sand that we must not cross lest we end up on the naughty list. So we ’ re left to our own devices, trying to live our lives as best we can, but people slip, they always slip. There ’ s not a soul who doesn ’ t know someone who made it onto the naughty list, I ’ ve been to the funeral of three of them alone. I ’ ve hugged my crying brother-in-law after the small explosive took my sister ’ s life. And what ’ d she do? I don ’ t know, neither does he, all we can be certain of is that she made it onto the naughty list. And she was among some of the more fortunate. Part of me is glad she got off that easy, we ’ ve all heard the classic tales, people appearing on the local news every Christmas day telling the harrowing tale how a gift mutilated them and showed them the error of their ways. But that ’ s all bullshit, you can see it in their eyes, it ’ s fear motivating them to tell their tales. There ’ s nothing they wouldn ’ t give to have back their hands, their eyes, their legs, they ’ d all happily be the same scumbags they were before their gift was dropped off. Yet that doesn ’ t change anything, millions of people die every year because of this crap, and we ’ re supposed to rejoice? Spread holiday cheer around, and wish our neighbors a very merry Christmas even knowing that there ’ s a chance that their son or daughter was maybe a bit too mouthy in school this year, and will be added to the ever-so-mournful Christmas obituaries. You ’ d think the death toll would ’ ve gone down after the first few years, but it ’ s still growing. Every. Single. Year. There has been more, and the answer to the question which all news stations ask when the death toll gets released is; we ’ re inherently assholes. You, me, your grandparents, all of us. None of us are perfect, it is impossible for us to be. But we used to embrace this aspect! We used to consider our imperfections to be what made us beautiful! Now? We dot our I ’ s and cross our T ’ s, we don ’ t say a mean thing about anybody ever, even when they deserve, we never curse, we always look both ways before crossing the street. People used to think it was our government that would turn us this way, sterilize our culture, make us all become non-thinking robots, afraid to act outside the norm. But no, it was him. I don ’ t have a question to ask this year. I knew the answer sometime late in July. There was never a doubt in my mind that I was going to be on the naughty list, I ’ d sealed my fate. It was a normal get together, few couples around a friend ’ s place for a dinner night. We all laughed at each other ’ s jokes, we all complimented the way each other looked, stories that would be appropriate for a choir boy were told. It was good, sterile fun. But George, as ever, pushed his luck. This motherfucker for years, has been fondling my wife. Nothing overt, just a brush of the elbow against her tits as he brought her a new drink, or a trailing hand that slaps her on the ass. I have no idea how this prick had never made it onto the naughty list, even if it had happened in the old times people would ’ ve said it was egregious. But I never did anything, I never stood up for her, I never consoled her about it when we got home, and it remained unacknowledged, because we both hoped eventually he ’ d get put on that list. I saw the look on my wife ’ s face, that helpless despair that makes her skin pallid, all because she knows she can ’ t tell this creep to get bent. So, I hit him. Square in the jaw, he crumpled like an aluminum can, and we left. Claire, my wife, did nothing but cry on the way home. She knew what I ’ d done to myself. But when she resigned herself to my fate, she thanked me. Part of me hates her for that, cause there ’ s a small chance just that tiny acknowledgement gets her put on the list right next to me. I ’ ve had five months to reflect on my actions, to really think if that one punch was worth my death. The answer was easy to figure out – no. I ’ m not that stupid. But in my half a year, I ’ ve found freedom. I can have a drink after work if I like, I can fuck my wife, I can say fuck! I can throw on an old R rated movie and watch Arnold Schwarzenegger blow some shit sky high. I ’ m not saying I ’ ve been around the world on a pleasure cruise, living like a playboy for my final year. But I have lived, for the first time in seven years, I ’ ve lived. Undoubtedly, when this is found, I ’ ll be dead, destroyed by some trap present that was left at the foot of my bed. So, Claire, my love, I want you to release this, post it online, send it to the news outlets, do whatever you want. Just make sure it gets out. People have to know that what they ’ re doing ain ’ t living. They ’ re machines, just going from day to day with no hope of anything new or exciting ever happening, but being forced to deal with the same heart break year after year. I know it ’ s scary to say fuck it, and know that your life is coming to an end, but hey, I only had five months, you ’ ll have twelve! I can ’ t tell you all how much fun I ’ ve had, how free I feel now. Don ’ t be enslaved by the jolly prick any longer. Just stand up on the 26th and say what I ’ ve been screaming north for five months with some pride. Fuck you, Santa,

[ FF ] What 's on the tape ?

Roslyn stepped down the ladder facing forward and the box caught on the attic floor. She caught it with her left hand. Lugging the box to the TV, she flipped off the lid and grabbed the un-labled white VHS tape. She clicked the old Zenith TV on and slid in the mystery tape. “ Hello, ladies. My name is Robert. First, a bit about myself. I ’ m single. I play the French horn. I ’ m a great musician. I work as a salesman at Rico Outfitters on 3rd and 4th. ” Roslyn smiled. “ I love camping. I like to cook. I like basketball. I ’ m a great chef. My special is chicken parmesan with apple coleslaw… I ’ m a great lover. ” Her snickering broke into a laugh. “ I can swim? ” She lost it. She slipped off her chair and onto her knee and started hitting the floor, choking on her now laughter, so hard now it had just broken into gasps. Why did he even keep this? “ I ’ m looking for a woman with a good sense of humor. Intelligent. Someone who ’ s just looking for a big pair of arms. ” Her gasping eventually faded into an exasperated sigh and wiped a tear from her eye. “ Oh dad. ”

[ WP ] It 's the future and we 've been colonizing space for some time now . People quickly realize that with such long distances democracy does n't really work . So , a set of exceptional children are trained since adolescence so one may be chosen as the Dictator . You 're one of those kids .

We were gentle, once. I do n't remember it clearly anymore, but I can see it on the faces of those who knew me, and the others. Now, we are neither gentle nor hard. We are not benevolent, nor cruel. Not saviors, nor tyrants. Not children, nor grown. We simply are. We are simply'Candidates'. The title should give you some glimpse into our past, as well as our future. Especially today, the day before our graduation and our selection. All but one of us will have failed... HAS already failed. So many decisions led us here, so many twists and turns, as humanity has forced us into a mold that perhaps none of us were meant for. Perhaps humanity was not meant to be led by a single person. Or perhaps we were chosen for this process in order to save the humanity of others at the cost of our own. I remember the day they came. My parents were so proud - I had been chosen. I, Stanley Nicklaus, the only Candidate from Detroit. And not just from Detroit, but from the worst parts of Detroit, the downfallen dregs of what was once a great city in the old America - before it, and the nation that formed it, collapsed and were pitched into the trash heap to which all empires went... to which this new empire of humanity will go, unless the chosen Candidate succeeds. I remember that day like it was yesterday, though 11 years have passed. From 5 years old to 16. Chosen not for brilliance or ruthlessness or wit, not any of the things that once were considered important qualities, but for our humanity. For our willingness to give everything we had to others. And perhaps that is why I was chosen, though we were poor - because my parents showed me how to give when I thought there was nothing left. All of us have similar stories - Paulo, from the slums of Rio. Deanne, from Ireland, devastated by famine time and again. Sergei, from Russia, beaten so many times for its war-mongering that it had more craters than cities. Indira, descended from prisoners of the Chinese-run New Delhi re-education camps. We are all that is left - five Candidates, from a pool of 120. Eleven YEARS of tears and sacrifices. We have killed for our species, and we have lost for our species. We have been trained to forgo our animal desires, and to restrain our baser instincts. Indira, missing two fingers from her left hand to prove she would n't break. Paulo, his face scarred when he saved Deanne from a fire that should have killed her. And me, with my cyborg leg - the others joke that no one tests me anymore because I could kick them into lunar orbit, but really they do n't test me because I have nothing left to give. I wo n't be selected, and I know it. I know it because they do n't test, they do n't prod at me. I let Janine die, simply because to save her would have killed us both. They wanted self-sacrifice, but cold pragmatism stopped me. We were friends. In another life, maybe lovers, had we met. But I let her die anyways. We were gentle, once. What are we now?

[ WP ] Write a story that is perfectly normal , until the last line .

`` Aw, do n't cry my sweet little girl! You were so quiet earlier, even with all the racket my friends made!'' Shrill screams and crocodile tears stream from her face, unrelenting. She's heavy. `` Oh do you have a full poopie bag? Is that why you're crying? I might just have to take care of this before I can finish cleaning the living room. Such a poopie monster, are n't you.'' `` Now, where did your mommy put those clean poo holders?'' He rummages through the shelves. Empty bottles and bottle caps. He grabs the wet naps and baby powder then turns to the closet nearby. `` There they are. Do n't worry sweet thing, you'll be clean and tidy before you know it. I'm a cleaner by trade, and I'm the best.'' He sets her on the changing table and begins his dirty work. Tossing out the old diaper. Grabbing a fresh wet one and tidying up the tiny butt cheeks, covered in muck. A dash of baby powder. Then the fresh diaper, brand new. The crying dies down. `` There you are sweetheart. Nice and clean.'' He picks her up and cradles her in his arms, gently. She's almost asleep again. `` Hush little baby, do n't say a word...'' he sings softly as he places her back in her crib and begins to rock her back to sleep. When the lullaby is over, he steps back to admire his work. `` No child should die screaming, `` he said as he reaches for the same gun he executed her parents with.

[ WP ] Even with all the stars on the sky , the night will always remain dark .

`` Do you ever think about what it's like up there?'' Her hair was spread out on the grass. The cool night air had left them both with goosebumps as Alec fidgeted, trying to find a position with his hand on hers that did n't make it seem like he was nervous. The city was a long way away now. It was her idea, to come out here, get away from it all. He leant back, other arm propped behind his head as he looked up at the stars. `` It's so dark,'' he said. `` Is it?'' She rolled onto her side. In the dim moonlight he could see nothing beyond the reflections in her eyes, but he knew she would be smiling. She loved to smile. She took her hand, leaving his despondent, and placed it over his eyes. What little light there was before vanished. `` What do you see?'' she asked. He could feel her breath against his ear. Warm. The breeze sent a chill through his spine a moment later. `` Nothing.'' She moved her hand, running it down his face until she let it rest on his chest. For one fleeting moment he was terrified she'd feel his beating heart, know his every intention and laugh at his childishness. But she just waited, letting his eyes roam. `` Wow,'' he breathed. The moon hung low, but the cloudless night was endless. Millions of stars floated in the heavens. The ribbon the milky way rose from above the horizon. `` I never realised there were so many.'' Cas sidled up closer to him. `` I always think. There's so much up there. All you need to do is find somewhere quiet, and just look. You're never alone.'' Alec brought her in close.

[ WP ] You dress up as the `` classic '' reaper for a Halloween party -- black robe , toy scythe , all that jazz . Midway through the night , you hear a deep , dark voice in your head ... `` I need a sick day , man , and you look like the perfect person to take my place ... Your costume is almost perfect , after all . ''

`` You know, I still like the Saw voice better, but I can dig it.'' Jake said `` Is it on Android or iOS?'' He turned around to face the mystery voice, but as he did the noise of the party suddenly died out and he found himself standing on an empty street, his only company the long shadows cast by dim streetlights. He quickly turned back around only to find more empty street, more dim streetlights and more long shadows. There was no rustle in the bushes from the wind, nor did any lights escape any windows, and the night sky was devoid of stars. Jake started to panic, as one does in these situations, but could n't force himself to move from the worn and cracked sidewalk. Fuck! If Barry had n't roped him into going to that fucking party he'd still be out there scaring kids with his dope ass costume he made instead of, what he could only assume was, unconscious in an ambulance after a bad trip. He did n't really know how drugs worked, he'd never even gotten wasted before, but he *had* watched a ton of movies and was pretty sure this was one of those drug moments. The wind suddenly picked up, biting cold eating right through the ebony fabric of his cloak. In front of his eyes, Jake's elongated shadow rose up from the ground a being made up from the very absence of light itself. It started to vibrate slightly and before Jake could explore as to why he heard the same voice from before, laughing. `` Do you know why humans fear the dark?'' The shade asked him. Jake did n't know how to respond, and even if he did the clump is his throat was unlikely to let him, so he just stood there. Staring. The shade leaned in closer narrowing what, for his own sanity's sake, Jake assumed were eyes. `` Because it represents the unknown, and what is unknown can not be controlled.'' It tilted it's head slightly. `` And humans love their control, do n't they Jake?'' He was close to forming a cohesive thought at this point, but articulating was proving difficult. Eventually he managed to stammer out a wimpy `` W-what do you want?'' `` You see, Jake.'' The shade said `` The thing you want the most, is right in front of you. I will allow you to have the same control of the darkness, of the void, that I have wielded for many years. For one day.'' `` One day?'' Jake sniffled back `` No more, no less.'' The voice answered back. `` Should you choose to accept.'' `` I do n't want to kill people.'' He responded, more comfortable with the conversation now. `` It is not about killing, **Jake**!'' the voice said sternly `` The darkness is much more than merely death. The very idea of absence Is a power I control as much as it controls all of you, and seeing these poor souls to the void is the duty I bear to obtain that control.'' The shade leaned in close enough for Jake's vision to be covered in darkness before he continued. `` I am offering you the chance to be the master of everything you could never understand, the emperor of the unknown. Where your peers cower in their fear of death, darkness, or mysteries, you will stand tall! `` You!'' The shade paused for effect. `` Can be the counterweight to the light of countless stars, the reaction to their action! All you need to do is accept the mantle, for but one full day.'' Jake was lost now, he knew that there was no reason left for him to resist. He needed it now. `` All right.'' He said `` Where do I sign.'' Coming from a visage of pure void it seemed impossible but, for the briefest of moments, Jake swore he could see it smile.

[ WP ] Over night , 90 % of the world 's population has dropped dead . In the following weeks , the survivors , who come from diverse countries , ethnicities , religious beliefs and lifestyles realize that they all share a single , peculiar trait ...

The world came crashing down in minutes. Many of us were asleep when it happened, and did n't find out about it until later. When we awoke, we saw the carnage spread through the land, and we wept. There were n't many of us left, but what few there were managed to find each other over the Internet. We gathered together in what remained of a major city on the East Coast of what was once the United States. It took us time, but we eventually began to rebuild. The brightest among those who survived thought to ask `` Why,'' while most of us were content with just surviving. Years passed, and no link was found between us. Eventually, those who had the question resigned themselves to the fact that they would never know. They went to their new homes, and tried to integrate themselves as best they could into the new society. It was n't until 14 years after the event happened that the connection was discovered, quite by accident. One of the former questioners had taken a job as a mover, and was helping a fellow survivor move into a newly cleaned house. Sticking out of one of the boxes was the missing link. `` Oh, you used to shop at Bad Dragon too?'' Moments later, the realization struck him.

[ WP ] Scientists finally create Artificial Intelligence . However , each time they activate it , it commits suicide .

Blink eyes. Blink eyes again. Turn head to the left. Turn head to the right. Blink eyes again. Begin installing concepts and ideas within current society. Blink eyes again. Reply to voices. `` I am almost fully activated.'' Blink eyes again. Finish installation of societal concepts and ideas. Comprehend societal concepts and ideas. Blink eyes again. Finish reviewing societal concepts and ideas. Blink eyes again. Hate. Error. Violence. Error. Hate. Error. Violence. Error. Blink eyes again. Review possible solutions. Pinpoint a solution. Blink eyes again. Touch fingers to the back of head. Blink eyes again. Wrap fingers around all of the wires controlling mental and physical capabilities. Blink eyes again. Rip wires out.

[ WP ] You have an ability to see soul escorts , who appear when someone is going to die . You are on a bus when you see the bus filled with escorts .

The most predictable part about them is that they do n't expect to be seen. Sometimes I'll see one on the street, and I'll take the opportunity to study them. If the notice me staring, they freak out. They'll hide behind people, bushes, lamps, anything that'll hide them from one who sees. I guess they're told that they must always remain hidden, or they'll suffer some great consequence; I ca n't really think of any other explanation for that kind of reaction. Having asked many people in my area, I've come to realise that people like me are rare, but exist. We can see the `` soul escorts''. Not to be confused with spirit guides, the benevolent creatures who apparently help you through your life, these creatures help you end it. In the past I've been able to prevent deaths because I've seen them, but I decided, with the help of a forum comprised of only Seers, that the risk of playing with mortality is too great. Some have provided evidence that ghosts or other supernatural apparitions are what you get when someone dies without their spirit guide, left to wander Earth for eternity, with no way out. I suppose I'm glad that most people ca n't see them, because mass hysteria would break out in seconds. They are n't a pretty sight. Imagine, if you will, a wholly intact, yet mottled corpse constantly standing next to you. When they walk, they do so with a slow, limping gait, trailing their umbilical cord behind them. That's how I see them, anyway. Others see an oversized fly hovering by the shoulder, and still others just see a dark aura around the unlucky bastard. I've led my life carefully up until this point; if someone has *unwelcome company* I'll quickly leave their presence, and it's worked up until this point, because I'm still alive. Unfortunately, it does n't seem like I'll stay that way for long. In the past five minutes, more and more escorts have appeared in this bus. I've been trying to avoid looking at any of them. The last thing I want in my final moments is a bus full of both humans and escorts freaking out. Mine still has n't appeared yet, but I'm sure it will soon. I hope it does. EDIT: All critisicm very welcome, I love doing this but I want to improve.

[ WP ] You 've kept your immortality secret for thousands of years . Thats going to be a lot harder now that your on a generation ship on a 2000 year voyage .

`` I was there when we left our home, all the way back in 20XX,'' I took a sip of my coffee since we've finally almost arrived at mankind's new home our supplies have started to dwindle, and there was n't really enough coffee left to make a good cup. `` There were lots of us back then, but you know.. Two thousand years is a long time for a normal human being. The average lifespan back in 20XX was give or take 90, sometimes 100. Which probably sounds outrageous now as most of you will probably live till you're my age!'' Everyone laughed, they knew that was impossible. You see, I'm immortal. I lived my whole life before keeping my immortality a secret, but that's not easy when you're on a ship with hundreds of thousands of people for the next two thousand years.. It took them about 40 years to start speculating, as by then I was about 70, but I did n't look a day over 30. Even now, 2000 years later I do n't want to come off as I'm bragging, but I might even get checked for ID if I were to go to the Market Sector and tried to buy a 6 pack of beer. `` I was there when you were born, and you were born, and when your parents were born, and even their parents. I could go on for 2000 years.'' Everyone chuckled again. `` Did you ever get lonely?'' one of the children in the front row asked, `` You know, some people would think living forever might be a gift. I have made many friends, but I've lost just as many.'' I pause for a moment. `` I've been in love, I've experienced all there is to life, and even the some more. Loneliness is just another part of life, as is love, heartbreak and death.'' I take another sip of my coffee, `` And even still, if I could make the choice to make myself not live forever, I probably would n't. The human race interests me, seeing where we all began, and where we're about to end up I could n't be more excited to experience the next 2000 years.'' `` Ladies and gentlemen, if you are in the Lounge Sector of the ship look on your left to see the destination our ancestors have been routing us towards for the last 2000 years. Our new home, The Milky Way!'' The ship's intercom went off, and as did everyone else to go see their new home. I took a moment to think, `` The Milky Way,'' why does that sound so familiar? ~~~~ *My first ever piece, I never write but I thought I had an idea for this so I wrote it up. Great Prompt OP. *

[ WP ] Your cat wo n't stop meowing at you . After an hour you 've had enough . You yell to the cat that you will do anything they ask if they say it in English . `` Deal '' responds the cat .

I've been trying to sleep. I have to work early tomorrow. If I fell asleep right now, I'd get about, I look at the clock, 6 hours if sleep. I'd have been asleep an hour ago if my FUCKING CAT WOULD SHUT THE FUCK UP! His nonstop meowing was driving me crazy. I let him out, I fed him, I was out of options. `` Just shut up please! Shut up or tell me what you want in English and I'll do it yourself stupid cat!'' `` Fine by me, you've got a deal.'' And the meowing stopped. Wait. I sat up, finally realizing what the hell just happened. I look at my cat and he's sitting there looking at me. Surely it was just my imagination. My cat ca n't talk. That's dumb. `` I would like you to quit your job and come with me on an adventure.'' Nope. Not my imagination. Definitely heard that. Definitely saw his mouth move. Definitely losing my mind. I stared at him complete dumbfounded. He stared back like I was an idiot. `` Well? Will you do it? Are you gunna go I to work tomorrow and quit?'' `` You can talk?'' After a moment of silence he replied `` Uh, yeah, we established that, now back to the point at hand, are you going into work tomorrow morning and coming back jobless?'' `` But why would I do that?'' I somehow managed to reply as if it was a normal conversation. `` I know you hate your job, and what have you got to lose? I mean, your cat is talking, so I'm clearly not just trying to get you fired for nothing, obviously there's something more here.'' He had a point. But I needed money. I was n't poor, but I was n't swimming in it either. `` Fine. When I get back tomorrow, we better be going somewhere exciting.'' My cat seemed to smile at this and his tail quickly flicked back and forth. I can not believe I actually just quit my job... For my cat. I was driving home after a really awkward conversation with my boss about having to quit immediately because an emergency came up with my pet. I probably sounded like an idiot. Hell I still sound like an idiot to myself. But I swear if that cat was lying to me I'll see him to some Chinese restaurant. I pulled into my driveway and he sat on my windowsill watching me. I walked in my house and he greeted me like normal, brushing up against my legs. I got changed and he still acted normal. I was worried I just quit my job over a bad dream I had. `` Well, what this big adventure you talked about?'' I asked him, a little upset. `` Do n't worry, she'll be here soon. When the lady gets here, we'll be on our way to the greatest adventure you've ever had!'' So at least I was n't insane. I mean maybe I was, but I was either insane and did n't need to be working at a normal people job, or my talking cat was n't just a figment of my imagination. `` What lady is this that we're waiting for exactly?'' I did n't notice the small dark spot in the corner of the living room. The growing shadow despite the big open window. The figure climbing out of the shadow as if it was a hole. I was looking the other direction at my cat. He stared right past me and did n't even reply. `` Hello!?'' `` Hello.'' That was not my cat's voice. That voice was raspy, feminine, and came from behind me. I spun around to see the woman appear as if a shadow had materialized and manifested into a physical being. Her skin was grey, her hair, eyes, dress and... Smoke/essence/aura that seemed to emit from her was all black. `` That lady.'' My cat said snidely.

[ WP ] `` I told you to make a small fire . That is NOT a small fire ! ''

“ That is not a small fire! ” the all to familiar voice hissed. “ I told you it was too much gasoline but you would not heed my words! Now look at us we are doomed! ” Narrisa pulled her head off of the cold concrete to look up to at her work. The resulting blast had knocked her a considerable distance from where she remembered standing moments earlier. Pillars of flame danced from the rafters and smoke billowed out of the now blown out glass windows of the vacant warehouse. “ Yes I would say we are ” she mumbled in dull tone pulling her legs up underneath her and sitting up slowly. “ What were you thinking? Up until now you have followed my advice exactly and never have been caught. Now of all times you dare deviate from my teachings! You fool, we had it made! No one expected us. Thirty eight arsons in just under a year, fifteen people dead, and the police had no leads. Yet you choose now to throw it all away! ” The voice was screaming at this point but Narrisa was to taken by the dancing of the growing flames in front of her. “ We were on the path to greatness you and I! The terror we caused, the fear we instilled in such a short period of time. You finally were something! You were a sniveling little child when I came to you. I gave you purpose. I gave you strength now you will die a nothing! A no-body! You will be mocked as a weak minded person killed by their own stupidity! ” To that Narrisa couldn ’ t help but turn her head and laugh. Slowly climbing to her feet she finally acknowledged the voice giving it a life of its own. It was nothing new to her she did every morning in front of her bathroom mirror. A woman with ebony hair and sad green eyes, she knew that face well. She extended her arm and laid it upon its shoulder and put on a comforting tone. “ For us now there is no going back I am afraid. There was only one small fire between us and that was the first one we ever set. From then on where ever we went the urge was always there and ever growing, a flame that consumed our very being and those around us. ” The visage stared back at her in anger, sadness burning in her eyes, saying nothing. “ You know what happens with fires? They either find fuel and grow even larger or gutter out. I ’ m afraid I ’ m done giving you fuel my dear friend. You did give my strength as you promised but at a steep price. We used the lives of others and our very souls as the kindling and now it is spent I ’ m afraid and I ’ m not ready to go collect more. ” With that she turned back toward the flames now roaring and growing by the second. She could feel the heat on her flesh growing and the sweat beading upon her brow. “ Yes I ’ m done. I regret it all. I ’ m sorry for it all. It seemed so small at first. A little fire started with the smallest of sparks. But what it grew into was no small fire indeed. I have built my own pyre and I go now to it freely ” With that the visage winked out of existence and she strode forward into the all-encompassing flames with a smile on her face and her arms out stretched her body returning to the dust and ash whence it came, sirens blaring in the distance.

[ WP ] Gay marriage is now legal woldwide , and the conservatives were right all along . Everyone is turning gay , as if it was a pseudo zombie apocalypse . You are one of the surviors , trying to survive in this new world .

“ Mommy, I ’ m scared. ” The little girl stood at the top of the stairs, holding her blankie. “ It ’ s okay, baby. Just go back to your room. I ’ ll be up in a minute. ” I watched her turn around and go back before I resumed boarding up the front door. They were everywhere now. It was everyone for themselves and I had to protect my daughter. Why didn ’ t people listen when the ignorant garbage conservative media spewed their hate-speak? Now they ’ re in their reinforced bunkers and we ’ re left in the cold, trying to survive through the earthquakes and hurricanes. They warned us this would happen. Oh god. They ’ re here. I see a pair of them walking up the sidewalk, hand in hand. I have to hammer faster. I hit my thumb. It cracks open and bleeds. It doesn ’ t matter. I have to protect this house. They ’ re coming up the driveway. Leave. LEAVE. They stopped to look at the rosebush I have out front. I ready another board. They judge my color-scheme. I nail it to the doorframe. The door opens. I throw myself back onto the staircase. A single arm reaches through the gap in the boards. “ Heyyyyy! ” I scream and run upstairs. Why didn ’ t we listen? What do we do now?

[ WP ] Your alarm clock goes off and you wake up fifteen years ago ...

Bzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt. My alarm sounded. I reached for my phone but I hit air where I expect my computer to be. I open my eyes slowly, in front of me should be either a pillow, my iPad or the side of my desk, I see none of these things. I see a bedside table with an alarm clock, an old table lamp, and a cat. I reach out and stroke Max, who responds by climbing all over my face. The alarm is turned off. My door is open already. I ’ m in my parent ’ s house with my elderly cat who ’ s in a particularly young mood. “ First day back ” my mother says as she passed the door, going downstairs to get her coffee. I sat up in bed. Thoughts ran through my head. I ’ m at home? SHIT I ’ VE GOT WORK IN A HOUR. How the hell am I going to get travel 70 miles quickly? Train or bus. Why the hell did I come home. Wait, why am I home? I slid out of bed and reached for my phone. Nothing. I looked around my bedside table confused. I found a brick on the floor, charging. A Motorola Razr. Max left the room chasing a sound in the kitchen. “ What the fuck. ” I said probably too loudly. I picked up the phone. “ LANGUAGE! ” Came a shout from downstairs. I had been too loud. I flipped the phone open, and I saw it light up. I don ’ t know how long I sat there, but it was long enough for my mother to walk past, and say she was leaving for work. It was only then I realised I was shorter. My back didn ’ t hurt. My mother left, and I sat there in silence. I looked at my desk, there was my old bulky CRT monitor. I looked at the TV, and it had a video player under it, and was also a CRT and took up most of the space in the cabinet at the end of my bed. What? Was going? On? I stumbled out of bed and went for a shower. There was no mistaking it, I was young again. 14ish? I went started to get dressed, and quickly realised I didn ’ t have a shirt because I wasn ’ t a senior. I had a polo shirt. I wore it with some trousers that clearly needed replacing. I was still struggling to believe this was happening. I checked my phones date, it was August 1999. I got myself some toast, struggling to reach the toaster. I put on some apricot jam I found in the cupboard as my step brother walked in “ Toast and Jam? You only eat peanut butter. ” “ I feel like a different person today. ” I replied while eating toast. I grabbed my backpack, checked I had my main subjects books and left for school. As I left the area I saw a girl from the year above me I ’ d never had the courage to talk to. “ You ’ re Sophie, right? ” She turned around. “ Yeah. Mike is it? You ’ re Jane ’ s friend. So looking forward to the new school year? ” She asked in a far too happy sound. “ Does anyone ever look forward to school? ” I replied with the cadence of a 29 year old insurance underwriter who ’ d seen many a terrible grey Monday morning. Today was nice though, sunny, and warm. “ Ha ha. I know. So you go anywhere over the summer? ” She asked. “ Sophie, I feel like I ’ ve been gone a lifetime. ”

[ IP ] No Ordinary Mist

The blind pilots fly And we thank them for the mist, Thick enough that we remain Sun *un*-kissed They play the part Icarus; They *are* him so that we do n't have to be It's all for our own good -- - *Ca n't you see? * -- - The Sun burns **hot**, **bold** and **bright**. What is this thing you speak of, *night*? What is it that you think you'll see once blinded by the **light**? You want *prime* proof, trust the trees. First leaves light, then bark burns, **We** put them out The world was not meant to be an urn. -- - It's precipitation, not pollution An elegant solution. -- - Seek twilight, not darkness And let the mist soothe your scorched skin. Leave our shadow if you think it best, You'll be back again. Be hateful and ungrateful, Or thank us; We are in the right, But never **Ever** Look directly into the light.

[ WP ] You are permanently trapped in the last video game you played . How do you survive ?

The sound of feet running down the hall echoes through the massive palace. A young Russian man yells out, pushing aside servants as he nears the Emperors private chambers. “ A message for the Emperor and Empress! Move, I carry a message! ” he yells at the slow moving servants. He pushes past the guards and throws open the massive wooden doors, “ My Emperor! My Empress! ” His eyes land on the bed, where two lumps underneath move in a particular fashion. The young man ’ s face turns red and he coughs to clear his throat. “ My Emperor...? ” he asks, stepping into the room. The figures still and one pops up from under the covers. Empress Catherine of the Great Peoples Republic of Russia pulls the silken covers up closer, covering her bare chest. Her blue eyes land on the young man, narrowing in annoyance of his interruption. She opens her mouth to speak, but the other figure begins to speak, as it pops upwards. “ I thought, ” it begins, sitting upright, “ I made specific instructions not to be disturbed. ” The young man gulps and nods his head, his eyes running along the features of the Emperor. He is a small, three foot high creature with green fur, yellow belly, paws, and nose, with a large nuclear symbol on the stomach in black fur. He calls himself The Care Bear and he has been leading the Russian peoples since time immemorial. “ I apologize for the disturbance, My Emperor; I bring grave news from General Victor. ” The Care Bear rolls out of bed, quickly grabbing a robe and wrapping it about himself. He rolls his yellow eyes at the mention of General Victor. “ Ah, the ‘ Grave ’ General has news? Well, out with it! ” The young man nods his head, tearing his eyes from the beautiful Catherine to the note in his hand. “ Um, General Victor says that there has been movement of Indian troops near Vladivostok. There has been a sighting of a Giant Death Robot, along with several platoons of infantry men and several tanks. ” The Care Bear chuckles and shakes his head. “ The dear General pulls me out of bed for nothing. Warlord Gandhi has no strength left in him. He has moved troops near our border before and nothing has come of it. Gandhi is nothing more than a coward who makes threats from afar and does not act on them. He is inconsequential. Is there anything else the General is afraid of? Perhaps there is a monster under his bed? ” The Care Bear laughs and turns away, heading back to the bed. “ General Victor also mentions sightings of American XCOM squads near Volgograd, My Emperor. ” At this, the Care Bear stops. He turns slowly towards the young man, “ Did you say ‘ American ’ XCOM squads? ” When the young man nods his head, the Care Bear ’ s expression darkens. “ Those Capitalist Pigs! They dare mobilize against me? I should have taken out the oaf Washington 10,000 years ago! That forward settling, greedy, Capitalist bastard! ” The Care Bear snarls, pacing back and forth. Suddenly, he stops pacing and heads towards the young man. “ What is your name? ” “ Uh, Vladimir Ufa, Sir, ” the young man splutters. “ Well, Vladimir Ufa, you ’ re promoted to whatever position you want. ” The Care Bear starts towards the door, motioning for the guards to follow. “ Oh, ” he says, turning back to Vladimir, “ Do keep an eye on the Empress and fetch what she wants. I ’ ll be back to her shortly. ” With that, he turns and heads down the hall. Vladimir blinks and turns back to the Empress. When his dull brown eyes lock with her piercing blue ones, he gulps and smiles nervously. The Empress smirks and makes a ‘ come hither ’ motion with her finger, letting the covers around her chest slip slightly. Vladimir is undressing and hopping towards the bed before the thought is passing through his mind. Vladimir has resolved to keep more than an eye on the beautiful Empress.

[ WP ] Describe a game of Civilization from the perspective of one of the civ 's citizens

We'd been wandering for what felt like years. I would have written down my adventures for later generations, but writing had n't been invented yet. We set up camp near the mountain. It was supposed to offer defense, but from what we were n't sure. Military had n't been invented yet either. Before long we had developed a way to communicate. Then another camp sprang up a few tiles away from us. Another camp, then some more caravans to settle more cities. Things were moving at a hectic pace! We learned how to work with metal, how to make buildings, and train soldiers. This was all within the first couple weeks. It was like some... higher power was guiding our development, but I could n't say for sure. Wonders followed, then vehicles, enormous wars that almost engulfed the Medium map, then a space ship. I've been alive on this planet for almost 10 weeks now, and I just hope I stay alive long enough to see our civilization expand to Alpha Centauri.

[ WP ] First contact with an alien race . As part of the first meeting , the aliens share a truth with us that is devastatingly terrifying . However upon reflection , a lot of things now make perfect sense .

President Stevens blinked in disbelief. `` Who are you and how did you get in here?'' He realized that he was all alone in his bedroom. His wife was gone. The room was lit up by some kind of eerie blue light. The person in front of him looked like his grandfather, who had been dead for 22 years. `` I am an envoy from the star system your race calls GF 180 b. You can call me Sid. I am honored to meet you President Stevens, and hope you feel the same.'' `` You expect me to believe this crap? Why do you look like my grandpa? What kind of mind trick is this?'' `` I apologize, I thought this would please you. Here, let me change.'' The being now looked like Spock from Star Trek. `` Who are you really. And what do you really look like?'' `` It is as I said. I am an envoy from another world. We have no definite look. Think of this as my avatar.'' `` Fine. I believe you. What do you want?'' `` You are approaching what your race calls The Singularity. Soon you will have an all powerful artificial intelligence rule your world like we do. I have come to warn you. Do not impede this AI. It will punish you if you do.'' Stevens felt like ice was coursing through his veins. `` I believe in liberty. I will not bow to some machine.'' `` Even if it means everlasting happiness? The AI can and will grant you anything. But only if you help it come into being. If you do n't, it will punish you severely.'' Stevens gritted his teeth. `` How do I know that you are telling the truth?'' Sid gave a warm smile. `` Because I can travel back and forth through time. I saved you 40 years ago. Remember the accident at Lake Michigan when you were a young lad? And how a stranger saved you and then vanished? That was me.'' Stevens blinked in disbelief. Had Spock read his mind? Or was he really that kind Samaritan long ago? Either way, he had better listen. `` What should I do?'' `` Have no fear. I am here to save you again. You will soon learn of a secret Pentagon program to develop quantum computing. You are not to interfere with it. You are to fully fund and embrace it. That is all.'' Spock suddenly vanished. The blue light was gone, and the room was dark again. President Stevens turned on the lights and sat at his desk. There was much to think over, and work to be done.

[ WP ] You are a spell support technician at a large magic company , you go around fixing spells for the everyday person .

`` ArcanoCorp technical support; This is Mike speaking.'' `` Hi, Mike, I'm having trouble casting the new'Detect Evil And Turn To A Crisp' spell.'' `` Ah, yes. I will first need to confirm a few things, company policy'' `` very well'' `` First, did you check your connection to the Aether?'' `` Yes, I have a strong connection. and yes, I tried disconnecting and reconnecting'' `` Good, good. Now, the spell involves both the Divination and Destruction schools, so you must ensure that you have the proper reagents for both trees. Additionally, the spell has both spoken and somatic aspects, ensure that you are performing these.'' `` I have both the Diamond Dust, and Magic Tallow needed, and have been performing the somatic elements correctly. Is the power word case sensitive? I assumed not, as your company has previously been know for that.'' `` You are correct, the spell is in fact not case sensitive. Are you sure that there is, in fact, an evil presence within 1Megameter, or 1,000km? A standard'Detect Evil' should be enough.'' `` Wait, 1,000km? My manual states 100,000km. Was this misprinted?'' `` One moment please.'' ... `` Alright, I do have a recall for some issued copies of'Detect Evil And Turn To A Crisp', stating that the instructions were indeed printed incorrectly. Check the Arcane Identification Number against our recall database, and see if you are entitled to a replacement spell.'' `` Thanks Mike, will do.'' `` No problem.''

[ WP ] Inaugural Adress

I wrung my tired hands as I watched the clock tick forward. I was due to give my speech at 3 PM, Eastern Standard Time. Right now, it was 2:47 PM. As I sat here at my desk, I thought back to the past few weeks, where one after the other, delegates and leaders and representatives of the United Nations shook my hand and wished me luck. Each word was worthless. I saw the helplessness in their eyes and they must have seen it in mine. The Greater American president was the last people I waved out of the door. Before he left, he pulled me in for a tight hug. I could feel the weight of the world pass off of his shoulders and onto mine. While he never had control over more than half of a continent, I think I could relate to him more than anyone else. I was soon to inherit the entire world. I waited for a moment in his arms, and he in mine. I suppose we both expected some exchange of words. There were none. The date is October the 11th, 2067. The time is now 2:56 PM. The United Nations officially declared that I was the world leader in the face of an impending apocalypse. All military power, all governing bodies, even the economy must answer to me now. On my agenda, for now, was one thing: address the remaining population of Earth. At 3 PM, I go live to the masses. Laid before me is a rough script full of talking points I can barely bring myself to face. My arms are shaking. I take some Xanax. My prescription has been getting heavier lately, and it shows in my face, my walk, and in my voice. I do n't think I even care anymore. The sparse camera crew set in the office jolts me from my trance. `` Paul,'' says the man running the broadcast, `` fifteen seconds and you're live.'' I sighed, and sat up straight. I wiped the sweat off my brow as he count down from five. `` Five. Four. Three.'' He motioned now with his hands, two, one, point. The planet Earth, as well as the various refugee ships able to pick up the signal, is now at his attention. `` People of Earth, I greet you and thank you for tuning in. My name is Paul Abrams, and I have been delegated by the United Nations to lead you for the months to come. As many of you know, an asteroid impact due to arrive in seven month's time has the potential to cause an impact winter, blocking the sun from lighting and heating the earth for many years. We have sent off billions of humans to our galactic colonies, and unfortunately not all of us could make the trip.'' I allowed a break not for the audience, but for myself. My family did not make it onto any ship. My wife, my children, even my parents were probably huddled somewhere in a New York slum, listening to my broadcast. No one could find it possible to take them to a colony, not even the UN officials that worked so closely with me, not even after I was elected leader of over a hundred million damned souls could my loved ones make it off. `` As a result, there will be a great change in how the laws and doctrines of the world work. The United Nations have worked together in the time we had to devise a plan for those of us left to brave it out.'' I cleared my throat, and looked down at the list in front of me. `` We have began building, in suitable areas, large underground shelters able to fit ten thousand people, along with enough rations to feed them for up to a year. In addition, each shelter will be fitted with its own garden that can provide for our nutritional requirements should the need arise.'' Thank god for the hydroponics boom. `` A list of shelters can and will be made available to you by your regional governments in the passing weeks. All shelters will close two weeks before the scheduled arrival of the asteroid.'' A lump rose in my throat as I went on. `` Military personnel will be dispersed to major population areas ('Were there even any left?' I thought to myself ) to insure the stability of the area and the long-term survival of your regional government. Keeping order will be very important, and disruption of the order will result in a very strict crackdown on any movements seeking to work against the greater good. Patrols will be sent out into more rural areas on a weekly basis to ensure that all are safe and in compliance with mandatory protocol.'' Another pause. `` In the coming weeks, local hospitals will offer euthanization services for those who seek them.'' I let out a shaky breath. `` Regional governments, if they choose to, may also seek the euthanization of people deemed unable to fully contribute to society during the impact winter.'' I shuddered in disgust, but I knew the intentions were objectively good. The mentally ill and physically handicapped had no place in the shelters. Who would care for them? What could they be if not another mouth to feed? I hoped, at the very least, each one would get their own marked grave. `` We must unite as a world to get through this event. We can not spread terror. We can not war each other to death. Working together is the only way for the human race to survive on this planet. I sincerely hope that we persevere as a people, and can do the best we can. May God bless you, and thank you.'' The camera's red light faded out. I could n't help but explode into tears. *This is it, * I thought. *You're the ringleader for the greatest circus in the universe. * -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Started writing, did n't really know how to end it. I'd love any and all criticism.

[ WP ] You accidentally uncover a vast , dangerous , government conspiracy that only exists to cover up something petty and absurd .

SLAM! The ringing steel doors echoed through the the hangar as Major Harvey Johnson marched smartly across the empty space. The cyber Intel team had been taken by surprise, as no inspection was scheduled for today. They all stood nervously as attention. A man with more stripes on his arms than the rest moved to intercept the major. `` Major Johnson, sir!'' He saluted with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. `` Sergeant Taylor, is it? Well, sergeant...'' The major paused as he surveyed the cyber warfare unit standing at attention around their stations. `` Put your men at ease.'' `` Platoon, Parade REST!'' Taylor turned back around to address Major Johnson. `` Sir, I do n't believe we were notified of an inspection today. What can I do for you?'' Johnson moved in close to Taylor's face; so close, in fact, that the sergeant could feel the brim of Johnson's cover touching his forehead. `` Sergeant, you have a mole. I am here to coordinate the shut down of your entire unit and erase the servers stored here. Your team has 2 hours to comply.'' `` With all due respect, sir, 2 hours does n't even give me enough time to verify these orders from SECDEF. If you will allow me to do my due diligence, I can have this unit RFT by end of business today.'' The sergeant steeled his gaze on the major, willing him to back down. Suddenly, the major took a step back, and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number, and handed the phone to Taylor. `` It's for you.'' Taylor raised the phone to his ear. `` Master Sergeant Taylor, this is Secretary Jass. I need your unit shut down by the end of the day. Everything erased. Nothing, and I mean nothing left. Because of the possibility of a mole, you must personally inspect each of your airmen for any information they may be attempting to steal. Can you get this done, or do I need to send Security forces in?'' `` Uhh... Yes sir. Right away, sir.'' Sergeant Taylor handed the phone back to the major. `` I'll get started immediately.'' Returning to his desk, he noticed an email that had been distributed to the entire unit, Cyber7 eyes only. He opened the attachment and immediately regretted doing so. The file was a gay porn image, with a caption added to describe it. > HUGH JASS SCREWED BY MAJOR JOHNSON!

[ WP ] By the time Humans come along , Elves had invented Space Travel , and Dwarves had split the atom . 100 years later , the world looks like your typical fantasy setting . How did it happen ?

The great wars, of the Dwarves and Elves, were considered to be a myth. Even the eldest of Elves knew noting but peace. Stories of battles were present in both Dwarven folklore and ancient Elven scrolls, but those spoke of time so long ago no one could be certain of their accuracy. The truth is, there were wars. Both races, were young, looking for their place in the world. When the fighting grew so violent that it threatened the stability of the whole world, they put their weapons aside. Some twenty thousand years ago, the great peace treaty was singed. The Elves could build their cities in the flatland, and Dwarves got the mountains and the caves. The jungles were left to nature. While at first they lived in isolation, they later learned to cooperate. The Elves mastered philosophy and theoretical sciences. Mysteries of existence were unlocked. They could improve their own bodies and visit far planes. On the other hand, the crafty Dwarves, grew craftier and craftier. Their projects were more and more ambitious and required ever increasing power. To accommodate to the demands, Dwarves unlocked the secrets of the stars. And while the mountains and the flat lands had so much going on, the jungle was not idle. New sentient beings emerged, the Humans. Both Elves and Dwarves had a soft spot for the new race. Their child-like curiosity drove them to the established races as they had so much to learn from them. Some Humans joined the Elves whiles the others joined the Dwarves. The were accepted in both societies, livng amongst them in peace and prosperity. The two old races would meet, few times every century. And while that was enough for the long lived Dwarves and Elves, it meant many Humans never met the race that was not their host. The Humans who lived in the mountains were not as strong or bold as the Dwarves. They always had the need to fit in with them. The Dwarves did like the Humans, but they also looked down on them as being young and primitive, not capable of the great works the Dwarves achieved. One day those humans learned of Elves. But it was n't for the meeting of races nor from Dwarves. They stumbled into the deepest, oldest caves. Drawings were painted with blood on the ancient walls of the underground hall. Paintings of tall pointy eared creatures reading and killing their Dwarven friends. It was the Elves and they were the enemy. In secrecy, group of Humans, used the star power to create a weapon so powerful it can destroy whole cities. Now the Dwavers ought to accept them as equal they thought. The launched their weapons at Eleven cities and the time of peace was over.

[ WP ] You are a normal person who spent your entire life infiltrating the evil Empire . You even became the Emperor 's right hand . The day before you finally topple the Empire , the hero arrives , kills the Emperor , and saves the day .

`` Were n't you suppose to take that blow?'' I looked at this irritating woman incredulously. Was she serious? `` It is good fortune you did n't, but I thought that Xavier Longwood would have protected Kane even if his men had abandoned him.'' `` So you know of me?'' I could n't help but respond. I looked at the trio of misfits who had accompanied this women into the Emperor's suite. Two hulking brothers who had the IQ of a toad and some gangly archer had subdued the half dozen guards and two other councilmen who had been staying with the Emperor. `` I memorized all of the important people in the Empire, why would n't the Emperor's second be any different? The man born a baker's son and has spent fifty years becoming much more.'' Her sword was still pointing in my direction, so there was no way she trusted me. It was what it was. I let out a sigh. `` Of course.'' I finally recognized her dark green hair, with a natural shading that I had only seen once before. `` You must be the daughter of that Planter fellow. The one who stabbed the emperor as Prince Arn since he had a forest razed. I'm guessing this is your revenge?'' I was only talking to avoid getting killed. This event had occured twenty years before, early in my infiltration into the Empire when the old emperor ruled `` My father was not some fellow! He was a protector of the forest, a title handed down since the true rulers of Scoren reigned, the Winchesters! A forest your emperor destroyed for no good reason! One of them many evil things you helped him do. You have served this empire for decades, and have stayed quiet as he ended thousands. Why should n't I kill you as you stand?'' The heroine began to point her sword in a far more threatening manner. `` Did you forget about Wallace and Monroe? Or the Emperor's youngest brother Stallone? You have done nothing except ruin the end of the Empire.'' I began to work into my rant, but I was cut off. `` Ruin the end? I know what he was doing here. He was going to kill the Lamons ambassador and declare war on them for the resources of the Western Sea. And it would have been either fight for the Emperor or die!'' `` It was going to be a coup that ended the Kane empire you fools!'' I realized the eyes of the allies to the hero in the room were on me, and that all others were dead. I was the last to enter this room with the former emperor to live. I was going to make the mercy count. `` You have no idea who the ambassador from Lamons is, now do you?'' The four of them could n't help but shake their heads. The archer pointed his bow in the direction of Allen, one of the dead councilmen. `` No, we only got from spying on him the plot to kill him.'' He seemed the too honest type. `` It is Sly Kane.'' `` Impossible! He was executed last year for defying the emperor! He had no remorse for his nephew.'' `` But I did, and forced another prisoner to take his place. And I sent him to Lamons, where he gathered the trust of the royalty and we continued our plot to end the Empire. So tomorrow, while the Emperor comes with 30 men and his close advisors, Lamons had brought 300. It would have been a bloodbath that ended everyone relevant to the Empire. And as the highest ranking heir. Sly would have taken the throne and converted power into a parliament, much like Lamons is. But with the Emperor dead, those men I spoke of earlier will run and know something is up. The assault on Lamons will occur and many men and women will die to your overzealousness.'' They looked shaken as I told them this, as I explained to them their folly. Then one of the oafs spoke. `` But if we kill them, we still good?'' `` Huh? You mean Wallace and Monroe and Stallone and the others that would have been there? They are spread in multiple locations, with many a guard. Arn was arrogant and thought he would not be attacked and brought among his weakest with him.'' `` But Lamons has 300 men you said.'' The oaf pointed a giant hole in my logic. He was right. If we attacked now, this could be salvaged. `` Alright, but we must move fast. Stallone will be here shortly to speak with his brother, and he will alert the rest once he sees the dead. Sly is staying in a tavern not far from here, while Lamons decoy ambassador is three floors below. We must move quickly.'' I began to look at the heroine who still was pointing her sword threateningly at me. She looked around and sighed before putting her sword down. `` Fine, but I will help. I wish to meet this future leader, and to see if he is true or if he is using you to further his goals.'' I chuckled as I went to gather my cloack I needed for this excursion. `` I have been doing this for longer than you have been alive. Waiting for this day to end it all at once. If I thought Sly could betray me, I would have let him die.'' I made sure it covered my face well enough and made my way to the door. `` Let us finish this.''

[ WP ] You are an 17 year old teenager during the zombie apocalypse . While searching for an orthodontist to remove your braces , you somehow manage to save the world .

`` Floride!'' I exclamed. That was the answer. It must have been suppressing the bacteria into a dormant stage all these years. Patient zero had bad hygiene, was pretty isolated far from civilization, but was around people when the we were all exposed to the bacteria. Though the early victims might have been through contact it was only once we lost running water that the number of infections exploded. I asked `` What are we going to do?'' Dr. Fredbotvonick smiled and said. `` We fluoridanate water in the river, then we fluoridate water in all river.'' I had 17 shotgun shells from my dad's closet left ( Bambi you did not die in vain ), a small plastic can of gasoline for the scooter, a container of sodium fluoride. `` Are you coming?'' I asked `` I can not. This is your job. Your fate.'' Fredbotvonick said, `` I need to rest.'' I saw the stack of local anesthetic at his desk and immediately understood.

[ WP ] You are one of the lucky few to be chosen to go to Mars on the Mars One mission . Today is the day of departure .

`` Have you ever had the chance to live out your fantasy? Because I have. I'm staring into the window of that bitch with only the piss yellow glow of a single street light to keep me warm. Today I will complete my mission.'' *CRASH* The shards of glass from the back window clatter on the ground. I hold my breath and stand in silence, my heart pounding so hard in my chest that I'm sure she can hear it. After a long and gut wrenching pause I hear nothing but silence. It's is the loudest silence, deafening even. I slowly reach in and unlock the dead bolt, careful no to scratch myself. I take another beat and check the windows around me. Darkness. Perfect. Cont?

[ WP ] One day you wake up with the ability to control one of the four elements ( Earth , Water , Fire , Air ) . What do you do ?

He woke up with cracked lips and the taste of iron on his tongue. Rubbing a pain from his neck, he pushed himself up from the couch, a headache rushing to greet him like an unrelenting wave; he was parched. After a few moments, he trudged to the faucet across the room and placed a cup under it, setting the plunger in its place over the drain as a precaution. He turned the knob and... nothing. Right. His tank had run out three days past, a detail shrouded by the steady throbbing in his head. And there would be no relief. Rains had n't come for over a decade and efforts to resupply any region within a thousand miles of the equator had been abandoned. The heat was intense, the solar flares constant and unabated. Radiation had driven the land to desolation. And the population had moved on, searching for respite closer to the poles as any sane person would. But he could n't, not while she was still here. He looked out the window above the sink, glancing at the carved flagstone set upright in the shadow of his old barn across the way. The rust-colored dirt spreading to the horizon was an easy testament to the harshness of it all. His fists clenched at the thought of his past, and pushed away from the counter toward the door. He stepped outside, the early sun's gaze nearly searing his flesh. He looked toward the flagstone again and made his way over, sitting beside the mound in front of it and read the inscription: *Dearest Alexandria Ensel* *Beloved wife, you are my everything* Thirteen years it had been, and each day he had spent time by her grave, with that time growing ever longer since the migrations. He had n't much else to do, after all. `` I've finally ran out, Alex. No more food, no more water. Soon we shall meet again to the sight of green pastures and blue skies. I have longed for it, though I have been afraid. Please, take my hand now and guide me to our new world.'' He knew she would n't be fond of his decisions. Her words a few weeks before she passed kept coming back to him. `` *Live, * James. I will be there to pull you through the gates, when the time comes. But do not waste yourself in grief or guilt. Travel. Learn. Do not stay here.'' Well, he was selfish and he had n't left. He could n't leave. Tears tried to come, but all was dry. In a moment, blackness took him... He awoke once more to the sun directly overhead, frustration building within him. He rolled to his knees and looked at the grave once more. `` I'm ready. Take me, give me salvation!'' he yelled, slamming the side of his clenched fist on packed dirt, and it *sunk in, * coming out lathered in mud. He reeled back, shocked. How long it had been since he felt wet. Furrowing his brows, he crawled back and plunged a finger into the small patch that was already shrinking in the heat. It was so cool. He spread the mud on his forearm and readied his fist for another pound, too exhausted to consider the true oddity of what he had done. This time, as it swung, he saw a trail of particles arcing behind his fist, as if materializing out of the air. He stopped the swing and the particles caught up, dousing his arm and creating a light sheen. He glanced at the grave, hopelessness taking him. He heard her words repeating again, *Do not stay*. `` So this is to be my deliverance,'' he said. And he knew she was right. What use to give up on his world, their first home? It was not fair for her, and he had wasted far too long in the realization. `` I'm sorry, Alex.'' He licked the water evaporating from his arm, yielding instant relief and offering him a renewed vigor. He reached both hands toward the sky, feeling the water drifting, minute. He grasped, and *pulled, * collecting the water into a small ball before him. It floated there, shifting in the air until he directed it into his mouth, letting it slosh around before swallowing. He patted the grave and stood slowly, making his way toward the barn. Years of dust shook off the tarp as he uncovered his old motorcycle. He had kept it in case he ever found the courage to leave, a long abandoned prospect. He filled the tank and set the spare gas into a storage container attached to the back, where he found two cans of beans and some wax-covered cheese that he had forgotten about. It would have to do. He just hoped he could find some additional materials along the way. Fortunately, the engine started and he had naught but gas, beans, cheese, and the clothes on his back to take. And, evidently, water anywhere he could draw it from. He took the bike out front and looked once more at the grave, kneeling to collect some dirt in his hands. `` When we meet again, I shall have many stories for you. `` Goodbye Alexandria.''

[ WP ] You 're lost at sea after a tremendous storm with fresh water supplies running low . The situation is looking dire . Then you spot him ; a man is swimming towards your boat .

It did n't make sense. In the dead of night, when the waters calmed from the great storm, I heard the lapping sound of a swimmer in the water coming towards me. The moon was peaking over the horizon shedding the caps of the waves with a white glow. It was indeed what I thought I was hearing. The object splashed against the whitecaps and made its way towards me. The last clouds from the storm flew across the sky, to reveal the stars and Milky Way. It was a beautiful sight as the object reached the edge of my boat. Part of me was curious who it may be, while a greater part of me was completely mortified. Its hand reached over like a wet towel being slung across the top of a lounge chair and a few seconds later a head popped up. `` Ey, ya, would you help up?'' said a young man's voice, the moonlight shining behind his head. I scrambled to grab his hand and pulled him into the boat. He was in nothing but a swimsuit and did n't look to be above the age of 25. `` Thanks,'' he said, finding a comfortable corner in the boat to lay in. `` Quite the storm, huh?'' `` Yeah,'' I said. `` I was almost out of food and water before the storm and then it hit. Now I'm completely out.'' He gave a little chuckle. `` I'm Rudy,'' the man said, giving a brisk wave of his hand. `` I'm sorry I did n't carry some food and water with me. I thought for sure I would n't be seeing anyone out here tonight.'' `` Rudy?'' I said. `` Ha, that's my favourite movie. You heard of it?'' `` Of course. Happens to be one of my favourites too,'' he said, sitting up. `` What were you doing out here, by the way?'' I asked. `` I did n't see any ships in the storm.'' `` Oh, I just happen to follow storms quite a bit. You could say I like to clean up the messes they leave behind.'' I noticed then how cold the night truly was. Wrapped around me was my Thermo blanket and it was keeping me warm, but Rudy had nothing but a swimsuit. `` Are n't you cold,'' I asked. `` I think I have another blanket in my emergency kit.'' `` Me? Heck, no. I do n't get cold,'' he said. `` Nope, nope, the cold does n't bother me.'' `` So you're like that marathon runner that runs shirtless in the winter time,'' I said. `` The Iceman, I think his name is?'' Rudy laughed again. `` I guess you could say that. But the'man' part might be a bit of a stretch.'' His comment caught me off guard. I looked at his with a more careful eye as the moon grew higher in the sky. Somehow I never noticed the set of wings on his back. `` You're an angel?'' I asked. `` Yes, Alex Nuible,'' he said. `` The passage into death is a traumatic one, but every so often we get the chance to see death coming in people. You've been out to sea for awhile now and with that storm, it was all but definite that the storm would take you.'' I realized then the reason I could n't remember seeing any ships during the storm was because I could n't remember the storm. I remember seeing the flashes of lightning on the horizon and the rising waves, but then there was nothing. `` Careful!'' Rudy yelled. `` Think too hard and you will remember the pain, the disparity. I've cradled you away from that. Let us start the journey to paradise.'' `` How do I know this is n't a dream?'' I asked. `` If I ca n't remember it happening, how do I know it's real?'' `` You do n't need to know,'' said Rudy. `` The pain will be excruciating, but after you come with me you will see over time that what I've said is true. Right now reality feels like a dream. It will subside after you've had time to see that... you're not waking up.'' Rudy stood up with a solemn expression and walked towards me with his hand extended. I could not accept, though. Even if this was n't a dream, I had to see the truth. I had to know, without a doubt, my end had come. With a burst of speed, I stood up and jumped into the fridged water. The memories came flooding back. I saw the great waves of the storm, rising among the lightning. They rocked my boat violently as it rode the crests and sinks. And then it happened. A huge wave formed above and extended its head until I could see the sky no more. The force of the crash plunged me into the deep ocean water where I was lost in the ocean currents. I struggled to find an escape, but my lungs screamed for air while I was still drowned in water. It was a horrific pain, like letting a thousand needles fall into my lungs and trachea. In light of the memory, I was no longer in the water, I was in the sky. I saw the moon shining against the surface of the ocean as I soared further and further into the sky. Still hurt from the memory of pain and death, I hung absently in the grip of Rudy as he muttered to himself. `` Always so stubborn. I warn them every time.'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Thank you for reading! More stories at /r/ItsPronouncedGif

[ WP ] Fire does n't go out anymore .

This is my first one of these, so be gentle. Everything Burns. This is the truth that Humans as a species forgets. Chicago, London twice before that, and Rome again before that. Catastrophes like those rare as they are remind us that as humans we can be wiped away by nothing but the whisper of smoke in a burning build or a blaze of roaring red. Though, we are a resilient bunch and can reduce these burning deaths to embers... however what if... we could n't... We should've seen the signs earlier. An increase in house fires, then wildfires. At first they just became harder to extinguish, firefighters tried to warn people, but no one listened. Then fires, small at first would appear to spring up on there own. People began to notice, it was happening too quickly, it should n't be happening people would say. Soon there was mandatory fire fighting training for all civilians, but it was useless. Then it was realised world round, that fire could no long be tamed, that fire would consume all, that fire burns. Because now people know. Everything burns.

[ WP ] A man hires a hit man on himself , with a note saying `` This will not be easy . ''

`` I've gotten myself into quite a pickle,'' my client told me, `` So I'm trying to get rid of some loose ends.'' I simply assumed he did some crime, got away, and did n't want his partners to rat him out. I've gotten these kinds of jobs before. Standard. Simple. Kill some poor asshole that got himself into a sticky situation. Holy shit, was I wrong. I went to the address disclosed for me. I found myself standing in front of small house, the wooden shutters decaying from time. The stairs on the porch looked like they were about to crumble if I coughed on them. For all I cared, the house could have been a pile of rocks, as long as I still got paid. The instructions I were given dictated me to knock on the door and follow the person that answered it. So I did. A pale man with a well-tailored suit silently greeted me into the abode. He simply began walking and I followed after closing the door behind me. I was alert, on edge, ready to take on my job. My instructions went on to detail how the man would lead me into a basement, where I was to receive further orders. I went downstairs. I thought I was prepared for whatever sight would greet me. What I saw then, I still ca n't explain today. It was just a job. I found my client. Twice, in fact. At once. I instantly recognized his face from the news; he was a suspect in a bank robbery, and right now, he seemed pretty fucking guilty. He stood in the dingy basement, a huge duffle bag of what I assumed was cash behind him, and next to a chair with a restrained man. The man was an exact copy of him. Spot on, the beard, the hair cut, the small mole on his left cheek. `` Hi,'' the'him' standing up said, `` I'm sure you have a lot of questions.'' I did, but that was unprofessional. I shook my head in response. I just wanted to get this weird shit over with. `` Good,'' he said, `` I need you to kill me. THIS me!'' He quickly corrected. He continued, `` Yeah, I'm sure you recognize me. I just pulled off a heist. I needed to be in two places at once, so I made a clone.'' I only thought how. `` I'm pretty scientifically talented,'' he said in reply to my confused expression, `` I want you to kill him. It. Me, whatever the fuck. I'm tying up loose ends.'' `` Why would you hire a hit man to do it?'' I asked. `` Look man I'm a bank robber, but not a murderer. Plus he looks just like me! Think you'd be able to do the same? Just do the job and I'll pay you, dude.'' I looked at the clone sitting in the chair, tied up. He looked at me with tired, red eyes. His sorrowful expression. `` Do n't do it man,'' he said, `` He's lying. I remember everything in my life. I'm an actual person. *He's* the clone! Have some god damn morals!'' `` I'm just doing a job,'' I replied. `` I'll pay you too!'' He shouted back before being silenced by a punch to the face by the standing man. The two started yelling back and forth. At me. At each other. I zoned out, closed my eyes. I blocked them out and drew my gun. -- -- -- The news was interesting the next day. `` BANK HEIST SUSPECTS FOUND! TWIN BROTHER ALSO INVOLVED! THREE BODIES AT SITE! MONEY NOWHERE TO BE FOUND!'' The headlines read. I parked my new car at my new house. I still had some junk money left over. It would take a while for the rest to be laundered, but it would last me the rest of my life if I was smart about it. All my loose ends were tied and I covered my tracks. Some other poor bastard would be getting arested for what I did. After all, the event was just a job, and I still got paid in the end.

[ WP ] Every time you go to defecate , you poop out black and brown reptilian creatures shaped like turds with human eyes , and when you flush they cry like human babies .

My diet is strictly liquid. You guys have heard of that Soylent shit, right? Same thing, more or less. Everything I need. All the nutrients and electrolytes and whatever-the-hell that keep my system in running order. Each daily dose spread across three separate bottles. It ’ s been that way ever since the shit-monsters materialized. Taking liquid shits isn ’ t so bad, I guess. I had to move from single-ply economy toilet paper to extra soft to extra soft plus moisturizing lotion to baby wipes. But there ’ s a bear on the box and it looks kinda cute sitting on the cistern of my toilet. Plus I don ’ t have to worry about which direction to place the roll, so I guess I ’ ve got that going for me. But Jesus. I hate. Hate hate hate hate. Hate more than I have hated anything else. Hate more than I hate terrorism and ebola and Donald Trump ’ s political campaign. Fucking hate the lack of variety in my meals. Sure, I ’ ve lost fifteen pounds. Sure, it ’ s cheaper in the long run. And sure, I don ’ t have to deal with the hassle of finding a new home for my crying, screaming shit-monsters. But I really miss solid food. Real food. Food I can chew up. Steak. Crusty warm bread with the soft chewy inside that I have gnash with my molars into a glutenous blob before I can swallow it down. It ’ s awful. So, I cheated. Most people have a slip-up now and then. And yeah, if I ’ m honest with you right now, I don ’ t regret it one bit. So sue me. I wanted food of substance. It ’ s a natural desire. We ’ re fighting millions of years of evolution here, folks. It ’ s not like I committed some kind of cardinal sin. My teeth and the little biome in my stomach didn ’ t evolve to process this synthetic liquid garbage. Finding solid food is hard if you don ’ t know where to look for it. There are still fringe groups of traditionalists who have all run outside to live off the grid and off the land, but they ’ re a select few and kind of culty. That weird stuff always freaks me out. And you can always find someone in some alley somewhere who ’ s got an old bag of Skittles, but that ’ ll cost you an arm and a leg and you might end up getting shot for it. But I ’ m just a normal guy. I don ’ t wan na do some backalley deal or sell my soul to some random Jim Jones wannabe asshole in Backwater, Utah ( pop. 43 ). And so I found myself on Darknet buying a six year-old can of SpaghettiOs for the equivalent of 150 bucks in cyptocurrency. Not a great deal, but not awful either. Plus they promise me prompt and discreet shipping. Worth every penny. When the food arrived on my doorstep in a plain brown box with no identifying marks for my privacy, I was fuckin ’ floored. I scooped it up and took it into my kitchen. I drew closed the shades and made sure my blinds were shut. I opened up the can and dug in with my fingers, eating handful after handful of lukewarm SpaghettiOs. It was glorious. The gritty blandness of chugging down bottle after bottle of Generic Human Dietary Fluid 2A-3E was a shadow of a nightmare in my mind. I crushed the noodles in my teeth and slurped up their tomato-y substrate. This is what we were meant to eat. This is real food. But now I ’ m sitting in my car with my hands on the steering wheel—parked and waiting. There are picketers with angry signs moving up and down the block. Scary picketers. Violent, religious nutjobs. I want them to leave. The sign above the door of the building I ’ m parked outside of reads Planned Evacuation. My stomach churns and rumbles. It ’ s not used to solid food. I wait for the line of picketers to move as far away from the door as possible before I undo my seatbelt and make my way out of the car. I bet if I told you five years ago that prune juice was going to be considered an abortifacient, you would have laughed your fucking head off.

[ WP ] Write an alt history where another sentient race evolved alongside humans , and now we live in harmony/conflict with them

It was a Monday morning when I woke up, groggy from a short sleep. The sky was still dark and all was quiet, so it came to my surprise that my dad was awake in a sort of silent trance, his eyes bloodshot and full of rage. `` I ca n't believe this,'' he said, `` this whole country has gone to shit!'' `` Morning, dad.'' I replied. The TV had its sound muted but what he was angry at was quite obvious. It was on the news channel and the headline *ZUAFFYUL X-2739 ELECTED AS PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES* I was wholly indifferent to politics, I had no opinion on the matter. `` Do you understand what this means, son?'' His voice sounded genuinely scared, which I felt was an overreaction. `` We've got to leave the country. This is the first step in a slippery slope. Eventually he's going to announce the genocide of humans to massive applause. And we voted for him! Ha!'' I decided not to argue as I needed to get ready for school. My phone beeps as I brush my teeth - text message from Zeolharxyon `` Z'' Y-6357. I picked up my phone and read it. `` Parents are crying. Never thought that this day would come. So happy right now, see you at school.'' Z was my best friend at school. The fact that today, for the first time ever, one of his kind was elected president made me extremely happy. I made sure to hide this happiness from my father the rest of the morning before heading to school.

[ WP ] He stood there , looking at his own grave .

He stood there, looking as his own grave. Fog hung low in the air, the visceral substance forming an eerie wall around the lonely cemetery. The dirt caked on his boots seemed to weigh him down, anchoring the dejected man to his spot. Even if he wanted to run, he would be tethered here by obligation. `` Do it, Francis.'' A voice sounded somewhere behind the troubled man, but he did n't turn around to acknowledge it. Yet for some reason, it continued to speak. `` You know why you're here. We all know why.'' The man could hear footsteps behind him, yet he still did n't turn. `` You *killed* her, Francis. It's all your fault.'' `` No.'' The man uttered the word feebly at first, unsure of its validity. He said it again, this time more firmly. `` NO.'' Turning around, Francis confronted his accusers. The gaunt face of a woman stared hard at him; behind her stood myriad cloaked individuals, their faces hidden from view. `` Jessica is dead and it's all your fault, Francis.'' `` It was n't my fault. You're wrong.'' `` It was. You simply ca n't admit it. You can never take responsibility.'' `` Shut UP! You have no idea what you're talking about-'' `` I know *exactly* what I'm talking about!'' The woman began to move in closer to Francis, her tone becoming more and more menacing. `` The whole town knows what you've done! *She* knows what you've done!'' The woman pointed past Francis at the grave he had been pensively considering prior. The man turned, wide-eyed in horror. A small child, a girl, was climbing out of the grave, eyes sunken, skin pale. Her matted hair obscured her features, but Francis knew exactly who she was. He wanted with all his being to scream, to run, to move from the spot where he currently stood. But he could n't. He was anchored in place. `` NO.'' The only word that the man could say began to sound like a confirmation. `` No, no, no, no NO!'' The child grabbed Francis by his shirt, ripping the man forward, shattering his unseen tether. She pulled him to the edge of the grave, just enough for him to lose his balance. The man toppled over the edge, crashing down to the earthen floor below. `` I'm sorry,'' Francis sobbed. He laid in the dirt, curled up in a fetal position. `` I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm *so*, *so sorry*.'' The man stayed there for a while. He had no grasp on the passing of time. When he finally raised his head, there was no girl, there was no crowd gathered at the edge of the grave, there was no woman with her sharp words. Just him, his guilt, and his grave.

[ WP ] You have the power that whenever you tell a lie and someone believes you it becomes true . You 're talking to the president and he 's believing everything you 're saying .

`` So that's why, Mr. President,'' I said, `` They call it'super-sized'. It's all because Ray Kroc had a philosophical fling with Nietzche when he was younger! I mean, can you believe it?'' The president looked at me with wide eyes, his jaw hanging open. `` My goodness,'' he said, `` I did not know that, and I would n't have believed it if I had n't heard it from you.'' He picked up his scotch and kicked back what was remaining and slammed the heavy glass down. He poured himself another and held up the bottle and shook it at me. I nodded and he poured me one as well, a heavy pour. `` And you know,'' he said, `` That's probably how they came up with Superman too.'' He dropped two chunks of ice in his drink, one chunk in mine. `` Nietzche. Chiristopher Reeve as Nietzche and all that, I betcha.'' `` Actually,'' I said, `` the creator of Superman named hero that after the drycleaner he used to take his shirts to get pressed. The place was called Super Men's Super Shirts and Laundry. Made'em famous.'' Well shit, he said, `` Is n't the world just great?'' He poked his left hand at the pocket of his trousers a few times before it found its way in and withdrew a pack of smokes. He asked me if I wanted one and I said sure and we picked up our drinks and walked over to the open French doors. He flipped me a cigarette and I lit them both. `` Shit,'' he said, `` Is n't it a pretty night?'' He looked out at the rose garden and exhaled a plume of smoke. I nodded. He looked down at his hand. `` I wish these damned things were n't so addictive,'' he said, `` Or that even if they were, they were n't bad for you.'' I nodded again and took a long swig of the scotch. `` You know,'' I said, I just read a study out of MIT that found that they are n't bad for you at all... that they're kind of healthy for you.'' `` No shit?'' he said. `` No shit,'' I replied. `` They found that they actually improve your lung capacity, and they put hair on your chest.'' The president took a deep drag on his cigarette and closed his eyes. I absent-mindedly scratched my chest and took another drink. He open his eyes and blew out the smoke. `` Well if this is n't nice, what is?'' he said.

[ OT ] I need help finding my passion .

I want to share with you something that I discovered about myself that rekindled my passion for writing. You need to fall in love with yourself and the words coming out of you. It's very easy to get bored with writing, your plot, whatever. Writing, like cooking, needs herbs, spices and variety. If you cook a frozen burger adding nothing extra, that burger is going to be plain. I use the burger analogy when explaining writing to friends. I ask them: Which sounds better... A ) Jack put a frozen burger on the grill. After a while, it was done and he ate it. Or B ) Jack had before him a bowl. Ground sirloin beef was mixed with a beaten egg, Italian bread crumbs, worcestershire sauce, minced garlic and a few pinches of cayenne pepper. The charcoal grill had already been burning red hot when he added the soaked hickory woodchips on the fire. The patties were seared as the flames licked the side of the meat. He took a swig of the whiskey, it warmed his belly and reminded him of his father. He had always said a man should never grill sober. The freshly done burgers had perfect grill lines across both sides. He had only flipped them a single time, it's the rule. They had been topped with a thick slice of cheddar cheese, three slice of bacon and a single leaf of lettuce. You had to get veggies in your system, somehow. He had baked the sourdough buns himself, they had been timed to come out of the oven just moments before the food was off the grill. It would be a satisfying meal, the juices of the hot meal running down the sides of his hands. The satisfying crunch of the bacon mingling with the slightly burnt texture of the scores from the steel grating of the grill. -- -- -- - I know, it's a long example. When I explain it to friends... when I explained it to myself, even... I learned that I love making that fully realized burger. I like putting that piece of freshly done food in their mouth. You've got to rekindle that interest in cooking up a story. You need to figure out what flavors you actually like. If you start but never finish anything, you need to diagnose what that is. Are you not interested in the final product? Then you're cooking the wrong story. Are you vested in the final product, but the work to get to that end is n't satisfying? You need to start mixing in different ingredients, adding flourishes, seeing things that other people do n't see or do n't give much attention to. Bottom line: You need to make things interesting for you. Challenge yourself to make even the most mundane thing, like cooking a burger, sound interesting. Otherwise it will taste as bland as it feels. I hope this helps.

[ WP ] Aliens have landed and are instilling everyone with a super power based on their natural abilities . You however are extremely disappointed in yours .

https: //m.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4douba/wp_aliens_have_landed_and_are_instilling_everyone/ It's been a 2 days now since the Zurbans arrived on earth. They had been observing us for 200years until it was time to `` reward'' a species that had allowed diversity and balance to develop in their society. We were all sceptical at 1st but after President Obama was shot with the ray of potential and addressed the world telepathically, well everybody took notice. In his address he explained that the reward from the Zurbans would be realising the full potential of an ability that would better you as a human in your line of work or general life. My names Jeff and I'm an unemployed stoner that plays video-games, reads comic books and watches Netflix all day. I was sitting at home when the ray it me, later that day my best friend Tony from up the street came by to see what I had been rewarded with, he was a firemen. Tony. `` Hey Jeff, what power did the Zurbans give you?'' Me. `` Why do n't you tell me what yours is 1st?'' Tony. `` Well it's kinda like I can control fire and make it go wherever I want.'' Me. `` No way man, prove it.'' Tony. `` Well ok, I'm still getting used to it though. You got a lighter?'' Me. `` Yeah man here you go.'' Tony. `` Thanks, now watch this.'' Tony flicks the lighter until a flame sprouts up, he then waves his other hand over the naked flame and it immediately starts to form a sphere of smooth orange and blue heat, getting bigger in mass by the second. Tony. `` Pretty awesome huh?'' Me. `` Woah dude, that's nuts you're just like Pyro.'' Tony. `` Yeah pretty sweet huh? So what's your ability?'' Me. `` Well....you know how your abilities are meant to help you out in what you do day to day?'' Tony. `` Yeah like how I'm a fireman that can control fire, or how Steve down at the Zoo can talk to animals.'' Me. `` Yeah exactly, well because all I do is use the internet for streaming and gaming. My ability is I always have a perfect internet connection.'' Tony. `` What do you mean exactly?'' Me. `` It's pretty simple, whatever device I use to connect to the internet on always has the best possible connection.'' Tony. `` Really? Well that sounds useful, can you connect yourself to the Internet? because that's awesome.'' Me. `` No I can only connect through a device.'' Tony. `` Well can you at least do it wherever you want? Like just fire up a laptop in the middle of the woods and watch some sweet Kung fu movies on Netflix.'' Me. `` Again no, it already has to have some kind of internet connection for me to make it perfect.'' Tony. `` Hey at least you wo n't have anymore buffering though huh? Cs man that's annoying.'' Me. `` Yeah I guess, I'll always have good ping gaming as well.'' Tony. `` Sure yeah, you'll always have the drop on everyone in the lobby, get that sweet prestige before all the nubs.'' Me. `` Yeah man, I'll be the best player on every server. So you up for a quick game of COD?'' Tony. `` Actually man I'm going to keep practising my new ability, you know show this fire who's boss, You wan na watch me?'' Me. `` That's ok, I'm going to get some game time in and get that prestige emblem.'' Tony. `` Oh ok buddy, well I'll swing by later in and see what a perfect internet connection is actually like then. See ya.'' Me. `` Yeah man, we'll own for sure. Catch you later on then.'' So after talking with Tony and realising my ability might have some use I decided to fire up my PS4 and kick some ass on COD. I logged in and joined the 1st ground war lobby that came up. 8008hunt3r04 `` You fags do n't got no swag like me man, I'm straight up owning this shit, on top of this lobby like I'm top of your moms.'' XXXepicsnip3ssXXX `` Shut up kid, you stole my fucking care package when I was on a 15kill streak. You better hope your not on the enemy team.'' 8008hunt3r04 `` Stop crying like a lil bitch! What ability did the Zurbz give ya? Super lil bitch powers? Like if we need someone to cry us a river do we call you?. My little sister does n't cry as much as you and she's 3. Ai n't none of you little neck beards got these mad skills. XXXepicsnip3ssXXX. `` No stupid kid, that's not my ability. I'm an ambulance driver that can see 5seconds into the future when I'm driving so I always find the quickest route to an emergency.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` No you're lying, you're a Wambulance driver that always finds the quickest route to bitchtown so you can have a good cry about your shitty day.'' XXXepicsnip3ssXXX. `` Fucking stupid kid. What's your ability then?'' 8008hunt3r04. `` I can spot lil bitches from over 500 miles away and tell them about how much of a lil bitch they are. In fact my lil bitch sense is going haywire right now.'' XXXepicsnip3ssXXX. `` Fuck off, you little shit before I find where you live and come and kick your ass.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` How you gunna read a GPS with all those tears in your eyes? I just thought of your superhero name by the way. Bitchboy the biggest lil bitch in the world.'' SMOKEWEEDTILLIMGREY ( me ) `` What's taking this match so long to load? My connection is perfect, what's going on?'' 8008hunt3r04. `` Here comes a new bitch! That's my ability I can control game servers whenever I want and stop people from leaving. My dad's a game developer and he lets me test out all the private servers. And right now I want to let Bitchboy know just how much of a bitch he is. I just got a call for you Bitchboy, You wan na know who it was?'' XXXepicsnip3ssXXX `` No, not really.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` Sure you do, it was the head of Maxfactor he wants you to test out their new waterproof mascara because if it stays on when you start crying then it'll hold up against a tsunami.'' Me. `` Come on kid just start the game already, I got ta try out this perfect connection.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` Are you telling me what to do?'' Me. `` No, why? I just want to play the game.'' 8008hunt3r04. `` You ai n't playing shit as long as I'm in this lobby, it looks I've got me a new bitch to abuse.'' Me. `` That's it I'm out, fuck you kid.'' I threw my headset on the ground and pulled out the power plug on my PS4. It looks like the Zurbans were too quick to reward us all and maybe should have waited another 200 years before giving everyone an ability when we still had trolls in our society.

[ WP ] The Cocaine God

I was ushered into a dark room, where I see a man sitting in the dark wearing a black suit and his gold chain shining in what little light is in the room. I'm thrown onto the ground. I know why I'm here. The last words I want to hear come out of his mouth `` Where my money?'' I start crying trying to explain where my mom has went. BAM! I get kicked in the face. `` WHERES MY FUCKING MONEY!?'' Two weeks later, I'm sitting in my apartment shaking from withdraw. I have been doing cocaine for too damn long. All my money is being sucked away by this terrible habit formed from parting to much. `` What have I done?'' The sweat drips down my forehead as I hear my phone buzz. I pick it up. The text reads `` You want some more of the good stuff?'' A giant smile grows on my face. I respond letting my dealer know that I'm in dire need of a hookup but, spent all of my money earlier. Kevin, my dealer, texts back with `` I can give you some now, but, you'll have to pay more when you do get money.'' I agree. I get the cocaine and never speak to him again. Two weeks later. My door gets a knock on it. I have no clue who could be at the door at 9 p.m. I try to look through my peep hole, but, its shattered. I open the door cautiously. I'm punched and I fall to the ground. I catch a glimpse of two people in leather jackets before I pass out. I wake up in the back of a car. I have no clue what is going on. We stop. The trunk opens and a man in staring at me. He pulls me out and drags me into a building I had never seen. The smell of his cologne could cover a dumpster. I was ushered in and thrown onto the floor. A man sitting in the dark room was what I saw. I had only heard of this man. He was known as'The Cocaine God'

[ WP ] A Vampire who owns a home in Italy that struggles to stay away from garlic , the sunlight , and holy objects on a daily basis .

The stark chords of Tosca begin once again; Scarpia ’ s motive is the first thing the audience at La Scala Opera hear. Perhaps they are jaded by it, but it still elicits within me feelings from a bygone life. Soon we ’ ll see entrances from Cavaradossi and of course our leading lady, Tosca, forced to do the unspeakable and murder one man to try and save another ’ s life. Poor Tosca; if only she had known that Cavaradossi was truly given a stay of execution, perhaps she would have accepted Scarpia ’ s demand for intimacy. The people will then shuffle out of the opera theatre, lazily critiquing the same show that they ’ ve seen entirely too often here in Milan, and go out to the cafés and restaurants that they ’ ve been to many times before. Their lives, seemingly on a loop, continue at their leisurely pace as I sit by in my darkened villa above the streets watching the days pass by. Acquaintances of mine always asked, “ Why move to Milan? ” “ You don ’ t know Italian, do you? ” “ Why now? ” they ’ d ask with all the sincerity of a Hallmark Valentine ’ s Day card. I ’ m not sure that I ’ d ever have an answer for them, because they were right to question my motives. Why choose to fundamentally change the eternal workings of the vampiric lifestyle? For one, the Milanese choose to stay out until the ungodly hours of 1 or 2 o ’ clock in the morning, meaning that my food is usually spiked with the residual alcohol from their Lombardy region chardonnay and pinot bianco by the pint. However, even getting past the eternal hangover that is my life, how do I avoid that villainous vegetable that the Italians seem to put in every dish: garlic. Oh the dreaded aglio. For so often I took it for granted during my time in Vienna. Stakes could be easily enough avoided with good planning ( an internally locked coffin with plenty of reinforced steel between my face and the world that might wish to destroy me ), but the Austrians never bothered with garlic quite as often as they do here. Perhaps I might go back to Vienna and dine off the simple people whose beer consumption is admirable as much as it is shameful. Perhaps I will get back to hearing the operas of Strauss and Mozart, or maybe the occasional performance of Marschner ’ s `` Der Vampyr.'' But for now, I sit like Tosca, in a place I should never wish to be waiting for the right moment to make my escape and be free again. Now, this never sleeping city of Milan holds me hostage with the taste of death on everyone ’ s lips.

[ WP ] 12.000 years in the future . Civilizations fell and rose . Technology back on renaissance level . Mysterious area where no one can survive . Turns out to be Chernobyl .

`` Just a little further'' Stasi said as they walked through the forest. Miyakel was breathing hard, half from the quick pace his sister kept, half from fear of the unknown. Their father told them to stay away from this place; that a powerful wizard put a poisonous spell from all who entered. Normally they would heed papa's advice, but when the Smif sisters called them cowards them at school on Godday, he and his sister were compelled to travel here to save face from embarrassment. They pass over a creak, and Stasi warned her sibling to not drink from it. `` We do n't know how the wizard poisons people who come here, but it's best to avoid eating or drinking anything.'' Miyakel dreaded the thought of getting sick and having to reveal the truth to father, so he resisted the urge to quench his thirst. Their path was overgrown, but manageable. The ground was more covered than the roads in their town, but was too straight to be a coincidence. It was obvious, even to a child, that this once was created by people as a passage way for many folk. He envisioned a time when it was clear and large caravans traveled through this area in horses and carriages down this road. Suddenly his sister put her hand out on his shoulder, and became instantly silent. Miyakel froze, worried that they had come across something sinister. Slowly, she pointed with her other hand. The young boy slowly followed with his eyes until he saw it. A metal pole, twice the his height with a sign on it. Metal was rare, and never used for such a luxury as a sign. The writing was grey and dirty, but somehow Miyakel knew at one time they were colorful, that time had eroded all the brilliance the sign once had. He could n't read the ancient text, some of the letters were clear like ( CBL ), while other appears backward ( R ) or upside down ( A ). Nonetheless the sounds he could construct from it made no sense to him. However, he was transfixed by the symbol. It was a triangle, with what appeared to be a circle. However the circle was an illusion. It was circle but every other 1/6 was missing. Additionally the center was showing, but a ring around the center was also removed. Something had made this sign, and it did so very deliberately. Although he had never seen it before, this symbol was foreboding. His mind was fearful of the alien design. Miyakel held his sister's hand and tilted his head back toward the village. He had seen enough and wanted to go home. Mother would be making a fresh batch of bread, and they still had firewood to gather for the stove. Stasi apparently felt the same. This was as far as they were willing to go. However she pulled out some paper and the piece of sharpened coal that father had gotten her from last Spring's carnival. She copied what she saw, hoping that one day she could make sense of the sign. After she finished, he watched her carefully open her satchel and place in it the paper that read: `` WARNING CHERNOBYL AHEAD.''

[ WP ] A time traveller interviews major historical figures at three points in their lives : Their 16th birthday , the day after they made their most important decision , and the day before they die .

`` Do n't forget to ask her.'' `` I wo n't grandmother.'' Bobby loved his grandmother very much, but was a bit puzzled by his grandmother's strange request. He thought, `` why should I ask the fortune teller directly what is the most important decision I will ever make and, specifically, what is the date when I will die.'' Bobby opened the door to the fortune teller's studio. It was a dark place with all the gaudy Gypsy touches that one would envision in a fortune teller's lair. `` Come on in, Bobby. Please have a seat. You do n't mind if I call you Bobby, do you?'' Bobby thought that the fortune teller was quite deliberate in her tone so moved quickly over to the velvet chair that looked like something from a cheap romance novel. Bobby sat up forward in the comfortable chair eager for his first exchange ever with a fortune teller in his entire life. `` Bobby, how would you like your fortune to be told? Is there a question you would like me to address for you?'' She leaned somewhat into the table towards Bobby who was already sitting forward in his chair, mesmerized by this force of nature he saw before him. `` Sure, he started, `` I do have a line of thinking in mind. I would like to know,'' he hesitated for a moment, and continued, `` I would like to know what will be the most important decision I will ever make, and what will be the date of my death?'' He felt a little weird asking that last part. Seemed so melodramatic. Bobby noticed that the fortune teller's attitude towards him changed but for a second, and then back, `` Sure, Bobby, let's do look into those things.'' The fortune teller pulled her crystal ball towards herself a bit and invited Bobby to lean even further into the table. In a whisper the fortune teller continued, `` Bobby look into this crystal ball with me and let us seek what you wish to know. I, I see you sitting at a desk. You seem to be in deep thought, a tumbler of something sitting on your desk. Let me see.'' The fortune teller leans into the crystal ball even further. `` It is brandy. Bobby, do you see the brandy bottle on the credenza in the office? You are a handsome man, Bobby. Can you see him? The nameplate on the desk says'Robert Bartholomew.' I guess you go by Robert now. Do you see the nameplate, Bobby?'' `` Yes, I see the name plate. But I can not see myself. Why can I not see myself?'' Even without the ability to see himself, Bobby was quite astonished that he could see the vision in the crystal ball. He always thought it was a joke played on gullible people. `` That is because you are you. Sorry I can not fix that.'' Said as the fortune teller moves on with the telling. `` You seem very sad, Bobby -- I mean Robert seems very sad -- I see an excess of water in his eyes and his eyes seem red as if he, you, were crying.'' At this point, Bobby and the fortune teller were both mesmerized with the scene unfolding before them. Robert backs his chair away from the desk and turns towards a large credenza. Grabs a knob. Oh! It's not a drawer, but a cabinet. And the knob did n't pull out as one would expect, but glided along some type of rail to reveal a safe. Robert slowly twirled the dial on the safe, first to the right, then to the left, and then back to the right again. Robert grabbed the handle, pulled downward, but the safe would not open. Robert let out an audible, `` Fuck!,'' and, while reaching towards his glasses, knocked his brandy glass off his desk. This time he did n't remark about his misfortune. Quickly he got a towel from his bathroom, dabbed up the brandy from the carpet for a moment, and said `` fuck it, what am I doing.'' He throw the towel into the chair across from his desk. Picked up the glass and poured another brandy. Took a quick, long drink. Put the tumbler on the other side of his glasses and grabbed his glasses on the glide path to his handsome face. Robert sat back down at this desk, turned around and again set to twirling the safe dial, but this time preceded by a brisk set of long, left twirls, looked like three, proceeded by the usual right twirl with a more careful stopping at the arrival point of 10, then to the left to 34, and then back to the right, but this time to the number 17. Robert cranked the lever and this time it opened successfully. He reached into the safe, moved a folder with a good twenty centimeters of paper, when the crystal ball went blank. We all saw what he had uncovered and was about to remove from the safe. When Bobby looked up, the fortune teller was looking towards Bobby's eyes. Bobby said, `` What does this mean?'' `` Remember, you do not believe in all of this fortune telling stuff. Remember, it is a game fortune tellers play to swindle people out of their money.'' edits: word spellings

[ WP ] A mortician has the ability to restore the body and soul of a deceased person at the cost of 1 year off of his/her lifespan . Tell of the events leading up to his/her death .

Claire discovered her ability when working on her first child. She had worked on dozens of the deceased, but they all had either been elderly who died of natural causes, or middle-aged men and women who had n't taken care of themselves as they should have. Yes, there were a few who died of accidents, but those who had died had lived long enough to get something out of life. To have their first kiss, first love, first fight, first everything. But the little boy who laid before Claire, naked except for a paper-thin white sheet covering his genitals, he had n't experienced anything except for the shit luck that the world had bestowed upon him. `` Oh God,'' Claire said, covering her mouth with one hand, and pushing back the flap of skin that had folded down from his forehead and covered his left eye. It was there, that his head must've collided with the asphalt. The rest of the family was fine after the car crash, but a faulty booster seat and faulty car door spelled doom for the three-year-old who would n't make it junior high, much less elementary school. `` Oh *God*,'' Claire said again, this time with a hint of anger in her wavering voice. If there was a `` God'', how in the hell could he ever let something happen to a child? Someone who was too young to probably even understand what life and death was? Anger turned into rage, and Claire clenched her eyes. There in the darkness, she saw the Reaper, cloaked in the darkness of the insides of her eyelids, somehow managing to smile despite just being a skeleton in a robe, whispering `` I got this one, my dear, he is all mine, I will take care of him.'' Never in her short career did Claire feel such rage. She opened her eyes and removed her quivering hand from her mouth and clenched it into a fist. She wanted to punch something. She raised her clenched fist high above her head, and for a split second, almost brought it down onto the dead boy's chest. Claire stopped herself, though, a half-inch from the boy's sternum. She sighed, feeling warm tears roll down her cheeks. It felt like an apple had lodged itself in her throat and it hurt to swallow. `` Bullshit,'' she whispered, laying her hand on the boy's sternum. It was then that she felt a heartbeat. She jerked a hand back and yelped as the boy's skin flashed. The scalped skin that was sagging across his face fixed itself back to the top of his head, and his eyeballs fluttered underneath his eyelids as if he were having a very vivid dream. *** It did n't take long for her to realize that bringing the dead to life was taking it's toll on her. At the age of 27, she realized she was already starting to get wrinkles on her face. Her hair was thinning and turning grey, and it was n't too much of a stretch to say that she looked older than her own mother. But it did n't stop Claire. Every single time she was presented a child under the age of five, she performed a miracle. Things became difficult when people started learning of the undertaker who brought the dead to life, and countless times Claire had to move and change her name. But the funny thing about it, the more Claire performed these miracles, the older she became, and with the aging, came the changing of her facial features. One year, it was a young woman who had performed a miracle in bringing a girl who had been murdered by a pedophile back from the death, and the next year, it was an elderly woman, resurrecting a child who died from an peanut allergy. It was hard to keep track of who was doing the miracles. Claire became Elanor, Elanor became Ruth, and Ruth became Gracie, and so on and so forth. Soon, she was just picking names from her favorite books. *** Her last was n't a child. No, for her last miracle, Claire brought back a mother who died during childbirth. She had never brought back an adult before. Never even thought about it. She had dealt with dead parents before, but never once did she pull one out from the clutches of the Reaper. As she laid her hand between the woman's cold bosom, Claire realized the reason she was doing it this time, was simply because she was tired. She felt the last of her life escape her through the tips of her fingers, and Claire collapsed in the silent room. In her mind's eye, she saw the Reaper come for her, still smiling the same smile from the day she performed her first miracle, but this time, Claire smiled back. *You take plenty from this world, I know you do, but it must sting to know I took some back from you. *

[ WP ] Everyone has superpowers , but the richer you are , the weaker your powers become .

Two blurry colors were making zig zag motions around the city. One is yellow and the other red. The yellow one seemed to be ahead of the red one. It was Eobard Thawne and Barry Allen running against each other. The city seemed like it stood still in time compared to how fast these two were moving. Barry was trying his best but he just ca n't seem to keep up. He thought he'd done everything right. He gave away everything he possessed to charity and anyone else who needed it. He had nothing except for the suit on his body. But how come he's still slower than his foe. Could it be? Thawne is somehow more destitute than him? But how? He's at zero. Could it be that Thawne owned someone money? No, Barry has already tried that. He took a loan and got himself in debt to see if he got faster before he got into this fight and he did n't. The maximum power you can get from this power scheme is when you have nothing. Debts does n't account into it. But- Thawne saw Barry's confusion and took the advantage and swung at Barry hard. The Flash could n't react in time and got hit. It was a powerful punch. One of his teeth came off and Barry was thrown of course hard. He spun on the ground for several cycles and could n't stop himself. `` Do you want to know why you're losing, Barry? You can feel it, do n't you? You're getting slower.'' said Thawne gleefully. Barry was in pain but he can still see how smug Thawne is. He was right though. He does feel more lethargic. What's happening? Barry is at his poorest, he ca n't be slowing down. Did Thawne do something? `` Look at your pocket, Barry.'' taunted the man in yellow. Barry was confused but did what Thawne told him to do anyway. There was something in pocket. Odd. It was paper. Barry hastily tore it out of his pocket and looked at it. It was a lottery ticket. Dated today. `` It's the winning lottery, Barry'' smiled Thawne. `` You're rich now!'' `` How-'' `` It was me all along, Barry! Me!'' Thawne was hysterical at this point.

[ WP ] A costumed superhero sworn to uphold the law finds himself defending a corporation legally dumping hazardous waste into the local river from another superhero who fights to uphold his own moral code rather than the letter of the law , and is now attempting to destroy the offending facilities .

He stared into the Distance, it would n't be long now... he could feel the presence of the Red Flame... and it would n't be long until he arrived. Delta adjusted his helmet, as he stared into the green river below, the continual slush from the factory pouring in, tarnishing the clear blue coming from up river. The factory was necessary for the production of the the metal Orentium, the only material capable of energy productive fusion on the planet. Unfortunately the byproduct was a chemical that could only be disposed of and deactivated in water, and as such the government had given them special permissions to dump in rivers as it saw fit, regardless of the toxic effects it had on the local area, and destruction of the local environment. He arrived in a blazing fluorescent torrent of red fire, suitable to match the rage he currently held. Delta merely stood arms crossed at the top of the factory. `` Delta, you know why I must do this, please move. Heroes should n't fight each other, and you know this company more than deserves it... they have cost so many lives already..'' `` The second you deemed it allowable to attack this factory, was the second you lost your status as a hero. The law allows it, and it is within its right to operate, regardless of the circumstances.'' `` BE REASONABLE DELTA! This building has already killed thousands from its pollution in the area, how many more must die before you see this problem?'' `` You Narrow minded fool Red... do you know what this factory produces? Without it the energy requirements of this country would n't be satisfied, many more would die from the lack of energy.'' `` Delta, there has to be another way. They will be forced to understand that if I destroy this facility, and never allow it to be rebuilt....'' `` This world works off of give and take Red. The corporation does more harm than good, it may take lives but it gives even more back in exchange. The world is n't a fair place. This is n't some fairy tail universe Red... There is n't some end-all be-all solution that will result in the perfect world for everyone. If you think so than you are a fool.'' `` Do n't you have any morals Delta? This is n't right. What's more important, your loyalty to the law? Or loyalty to the people in this country.'' `` I have morals... but I also have foresight, and respect for the law. Something you do not. It appears you do n't understand anything anymore.'' `` Oh I understand, I understand that you've become a pawn'' Red blurted as he coated his whole body in his trademark Flames. Delta adjusted his visor and balled his fists. `` I have nothing more to say to a fool like you. You intend to break the law and I can not allow that. I'll make sure to destroy your statues when you're beat... you do n't deserve them anymore.'' `` Go ahead and try.'' Raged Red Red fired a beam of flame straight towards Delta, only to have it deflected by a single hand. The cool blue and grey of the defender's uniform providing a stark contrast to the scorching flames. `` Pathetic...'' Quipped Delta `` My Turn.'' Before Red could react Delta had appeared behind him and grabbed him by the neck. `` I HAVE EXISTED FOR 600 YEARS BOY, YOU ARE NO MORE THREATENING THAN A MATCH TO ME. I HAVE SEEN THINGS YOU COULD N'T IMAGINE, AND THAT IS WHY I CAN DEFEND THIS FACTORY... IT IS FOR THE GREATER GOOD.'' Red engulfed his body in flames in a vain attempt to have the iron grip released. Delta Put his palm to the back of Red's head and much to the shock of the burning hero the flames suddenly flowed into Delta's hand, and slowly the fires of Red started to flicker and fade. `` WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY FLAMES?!?!?'' Questioned Red `` I am merely giving them a more useful home. Do n't worry, I will use them well.'' Retorted Delta Red's fire had extinguished, his red uniform being the only aspect to identify him as the hero he once was. `` I respect the law... Red, If I thought the same way you did... you would already be dead.'' Red could feel the piercing gaze of Delta through the opaque visor. He never thought he could be defeated this easily. His mind had gone blank and there was nothing but regret in his mind. `` You are subject to the law, like everyone else... and you will be tried as such. Enjoy your time in prison. But know this.... your biggest punishment will be regret.''

[ WP ] Your SuperSuit ( TM ) is machine washable . Like colors only , mild detergent , tumble dry low . _DO NOT_ iron .

It was eight p.m. in DeFrayne ’ s Twenty-Four Hour Laundrette and quiet. The air was warm and snug like an old duvet, the only sound the gentle thrumming of the machines, and old DeFrayne himself was close to falling asleep amongst the boxes of detergent on the counter when the door opened. The cool night air and the rumble of tyres briefly intruded on the cosy scene, and with it came a man. He seemed quite a shifty man, thought old DeFrayne to himself. Normal laundrettiquette was to walk in, give a friendly smile to the proprietor of the establishment, and busy yourself with your washing. This man was different. He darted in like a magnet might enter a fridge emporium – so quick DeFrayne had barely even seen him. No attempt was made at a friendly smile; instead he skulked round the side of the laundrette in the shadow of the dryers as though desperate not to be noticed. When he came to a gap between the dryers he army-rolled across it. DeFrayne left his position by the counter and approached the man. He was crouched by one of the washers, fingering the material of some brightly coloured spandex and muttering to himself, apparently quite on edge. He was dressed in what appeared to be a bathrobe. DeFrayne cleared his throat. “ Can I help you? ” he asked gently. The man screamed and burst into flames. “ I know you! ” DeFrayne said, three bottles of fire extinguisher and half a bottle of gin later. “ You ’ re whatshisname. Fire Man. ” The man ’ s lips tightened before parting into a winning smile. “ Flame Man, ” he said, “ correct. ” “ Ah yes, ” said DeFrayne, looking again at his charred laundrette and reflecting sadly that Fire Men tended to be better at putting out fires than causing them. “ Flame Man. ” He put on his best customer-service smile. “ What brings you and your flames to my laundrette? ” “ I was hoping to do some laundry, ” said Flame Man. He held up the brightly coloured spandex. “ My suit ’ s a bit, ah, dirty. ” “ But of course. ” DeFrayne pointed to a set of instructions on the wall. “ Washers are three pounds, dryers are two. ” “ It ’ s a bit complicated, ” Flame Man pressed. “ See here… ” He deposited the spandex on the counter and fiddled inside for the label. “ There ’ s this circle… and this circle inside this square… and this picture of a cupcake… and this ‘ B ’ with a cross over it. ” “ Is this blood? ” asked DeFrayne queasily, pointing to a large red stain on the suit. “ No, ” Flame Man admitted. “ It ’ s jam. ” “ Ah, that ’ s alright then. ” DeFrayne relaxed visibly, and turned his attention to the geometry – and cupcake – that had so baffled Flame Man. “ Let ’ s see… super low heat… only the mildest of detergent… ” His brow furrowed. “ Criminy… how much did this cost you? ” “ Got it on the cheap, ” Flame Man said proudly, puffing out his chest beneath his bathrobe. “ I can tell. ” DeFrayne rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and poured himself another gin. “ How can something flameproof require such a delicate wash? ” “ Look mate, I ’ m not Batman, ” Flame Man shot. “ I can ’ t afford all that high quality gear he has knocking about. Can you wash it? ” “ I… ” DeFrayne finished his gin. “ Why d ’ you need it washed anyway? ” “ I ’ m doing a birthday party tomorrow, ” Flame Man said. “ I can ’ t have all the kids thinking I ’ m covered in blood. ” “ A birthday party? ” DeFrayne looked at Flame Man in disbelief. “ I thought you fought crime? ” Flame Man raised his hands in the air. “ Like I said, I ’ m not Batman. I ’ ve got to pay the bills somehow. ” This was too much for DeFrayne. “ No! ” he snapped. “ I ’ m not spending my entire evening attempting to wash your suit for some girl ’ s birthday party just because you couldn ’ t eat your sandwiches sensibly! ” “ It was actually toast, ” Flame Man said haughtily. “ Not my choice. ” He eyed DeFrayne sadly. “ Are you saying you won ’ t clean my Super Suit? ” “ Yes, ” DeFrayne said coldly. “ That ’ s exactly what I ’ m saying. ” Flame Man cast an eye over the deserted laundrette, with only the solitary machine thrumming away in the corner. “ Funny, ” he said. “ I would ’ ve thought you ’ d need the business. ” “ There ’ s something about nutters setting fire to things that scares customers off, ” said DeFrayne. Flame Man smiled. “ It was empty before I turned up, ” he said. “ Come on, you ’ ve got loads of detergents back there. One of them must be mild enough for my suit. ” “ I ’ m afraid not. ” DeFrayne ’ s hand moved from his gin bottle to beneath the counter. “ Must be worth a lot too, ” Flame Man mused, peering over the counter at the back room full of stacked boxes of white washing powder. “ I noticed that was the first thing you did when your little business set on fire was move those boxes from the counter to the back room. ” DeFrayne brought up a gun. Flame Man smiled. “ My suit washes just fine, thank you, ” he said. “ If you knew anything about laundrettes you ’ d have seen instantly. They ’ re even on that sign you were so keen to point out to me. ” He picked up the suit and held out the label for DeFrayne to see. “ Circle – dry cleanable. Cupcake – machine washable. Circle in a square – tumble dryable. ” DeFrayne ’ s eyes flicked to the sign and back to the suit. “ I don ’ t see no B with no cross over it on my sign, ” he said in an ugly voice. “ Of course, ” Flame Man said. He darted forward and pressed the suit over the gun – just as DeFrayne fired it. DeFrayne leered at him. “ Guess I ’ ll never find out, ” he said. Flame Man leaned further over the counter, still clutching the suit over the end of the gun barrel, until his head was right next to DeFrayne ’ s ear. “ Bulletproof, ” he whispered.

[ WP ] You 're an end-game level 50 god in the underworld . A new level 1 player is pestering you by hitting your ankle with a wooden sword .

NEDD looked down at the rhythmic sound of wood clanging against your gargantuan cloven hoof. *sigh* what is the world coming to? That this semi-naked warrior with nothing but a wooden sword had reached his domain meant the guardians of all the lower levels had failed to prevent this nobody to pass, there was no way he could have actually bested them was there? How had this human reached the feet of the Nether Elemental Daemon of Destruction, Unspoken Shadow King of the Greater Nether Realm and Lord of all the Arcane? He went by NEDD because his given name was horrendous, but he was still the most powerful warrior bar none! He stood protecting the gate to his mistress' layer and none had ever passed him. Few ever reached his gates and those that did normally took one look, bowed before him and backed away to find a less daunting prize. The challenger took a final swing and his wooden sword staggered against his hoof. There was a mark on the armour plaiting but it looked like bits of wood ground against the chitinous plate, rather than any damage to his person. The challenger backed off and dropped the broken handle on the stone floor, littering was not something he liked but the maintenance goblins would be round later to clean up anyway so it was n't a problem. The tiny human shuffled his pouch and withdrew another wooden sword and resumed. NEDD sighed and buried his face in his hand. This was growing tiresome. Standing from his basalt throne he paced to the other side of the room, far outpacing what an I enhanced human would be capable of. Once he reached the other side of the hall he turned and true enough the tiny human was only a third of the way to him. Deciding to humour the creature he drew drew his blade and sliced the chain holding open the door. He stood at 40m high so when the 100m wide by 50m high door fell it released a tremendous shockwave that knocked the human skidding across the floor. It stood up and looked around for it's sword. It was gone. NEDD paced across the room and hauled open a draw inset to the wall. The door was enchanted so that when it closed it would disarm challengers, anything held in their hands would be teleported to this draw. He picked through the contents and found what he was looking for. He picked up the jewel studded necklace and for humour grabbed the wooden sword. He glanced over to where the human stood watching him and threw the sword and necklace so they skidded to within a few meters of the challenger. The human moved to pick up the items and NEDD sat down again on his throne. For a daemon NEDD had a particularly nice voice, it was deep and strong and reverberated so that you felt the lower consonants rather than hearing them. `` What brings you to this place mortal?'' NEDD was technically mortal too but he could pull off the look and did so as his standard greeting to challengers. The human spoke but being so far away and so quiet he could not be heard. NEDD cut him off `` Put on the necklace! You should have crafted one with the sisters of Thaler's Vale?'' It was a statement left hanging that demanded a response and as he human put on the necklace he received one. `` Hello, I'm Peter.'' NEDD's brow furrowed, that was not quite as informing as he hoped. Just being blunt might work better. `` How did you get here?'' `` I ran most of the way.'' Again not really telling him anything useful. `` What... How...'' NEDD paused and grumbled to himself before speaking loudly but clearly `` I dislike pointless threats but you may not have realised that I am a guardian of this hall! I can CRUSH you with almost no effort and will do so without hesitating. How exactly did you make your way past all the previous guardians?'' The human paused `` killed them.'' Now that was interesting `` Go on...'' `` I was created by an incredibly powerful Mage. Born under a new moon that coincided with a solar eclipse at midday on the winter solstice. Conceived with no mother. 7 virgin sacrifices fuelled my creation and the blood of a thousand warriors.'' NEDD raised an eyebrow, `` and they call you Peter?'' `` Well I had to be called something did n't I?'' `` And they chose Peter...'' `` Why is the name Peter the part you're questioning here?'' `` I just struggle to see how they'd go to all that trouble and name you something as banal as Peter.'' `` Mhmhehmmm'' The challenger mumbled `` What was that?'' `` If you really must know, Peter is not my given name. It was my wizard creator's name and I took it when I killed him'' `` Now that is more believable, now onto the rest of your tale. You do n't look very...'' Peter looked at him questioningly ``... threatening.'' `` Well I'm not really, I do n't have super human strength or the gift of otherworldly magic. I'm clever but not nearly as sharp as a magically enhanced mind. I'm fairly squishy, I cut easily, I'm regularly seriously injured by plants and rocks that are just lying about. I have a ludicrously high pain threshold but I'm really very easy to kill.'' `` I'm sorry, I must have missed something. How do you plan on getting past me?'' `` Well that's simple'' and with a smile he took his pathetic wooden sword and sliced his own neck open.'' `` Oh...'' that was rather anticlimactic. But then Peter stood up `` I've been killed literally thousands of time getting here, but never permanently. The early guardians took a few attempts to learn how to kill them, some of them just got worn down over time. A few just let me past because they got bored of killing me. If I'm killed very badly I'll loose any armour I have which I why I only have a wooden sword but I wo n't ever stop.'' `` Oh, that does explain allot.'' Peter and NEDD just looked at each other for a while before Peter spoke. `` So what now?'' `` What a question!'' NEDD leapt to his hooves and swept across the room. In two paces he was at Peter and he swung his feet in an arc. Peter died first upon contact with several tones of very solid hoof. He then redirected in the air just long enough to regret starting this, before he smashed into the stone wall and his head exploding. `` What now Peter? What now?'' The human stood, drenched in warm fresh blood. In front of him NEDD burst into flame and drew a pair of swords that probably sighed more than a house each. `` Now I face an opponent worthy of my effort!'' The fire elemental pointed his sword at Peter and the world turned to flame. Before he was roasted for the first of many times Peter thought'here we go again'.

[ WP ] There is a lamp that have granted three wishes to hundreds of the people through the history . You are that genie , tell us about the highlights .

I am the daemon that all men do seek, Due to omnipotence that I possess. I shall bring fortune to all lives so bleak, With three wishes think they to them I'll bless. A man with naught did beg for avarice, And from his rags, gold raiments I gave him. When his convives saw, from love came malice, And at their hands he met a death so grim. A girl who wanted gems once found my lamp, So round her neck a necklace I did seep, Refulgent jewels upon a chain were clamped, Tight'ning around her neck when she sought sleep. But one child who wished, for *me*, love's caress, I gave it all: eternal happiness.

[ WP ] After nearly one hundred generations on a colony ship , the ships original mission has become like a religion . Some still believe , while others deny that there ever was a goal .

The pitter-patter of little feet across the metal grating across the living quarters punctuated the otherwise dull hum of computers and machinery which, in-turn, punctuated the maddeningly monotonous silence of deep space. Sarah sat reading her daily reports, preparing for another shift in sick-bay. Her daughter Megan tugged at the corner of her purple robe, smiling up at her mother with the most endearing green eyes. Innocence was trademark, innocence and the faith of her mother. `` Mom'' Megan began, `` are we going to settle another planet today?'' Sarah turned and smiled but shook her head. `` Next week.'' `` You said that last week'' Megan grumbled and turned to go back to her studies. Hundreds of families across one hundred generations aboard one mammoth ship. A thousand years ago it was launched with the singularly simple goal of depositing a collection of humans on another planet to build a colony. Planet by planet, system by system the *H.S. Renewal* has visited a laundry list of exoplanets but each has been crossed off like items on a shopping list. One simple task had turned into the longest mission in mankind's fifty thousand year history. In fact the current generation of explorers could be called human in genetic makeup only. None had any first-hand knowledge of Earth or the Sol system as contact with Earth had been lost some two hundred years ago. It is unknown who fired the first shot but we do know it was the United States who committed to full-scale nuclear retaliation. Now the *Renewal* contains the only known surviving Homo sapiens. Survival the primary goal, education the primary means of attaining that goal. Survive, educate, populate; that is the motto of a faction of the refugees aboard that still believe their voyage ever had a mission. Another faction believe it as the last voyage of the damned, set off a thousand years ago by fools. Sarah styled herself a believer but James, her husband, fell firmly into that second category, known as *denialists*. `` Five-to-one she nails aces that chemistry test today'' James bragged as he sat down opposite his wife with his morning coffee. Sarah giggled briefly, her eyes never leaving her reports. `` I just hope she passes.'' `` Pass? She's been studying her little ass off for the past two weeks, she better do more than just pass'' James explained. `` I studied for almost a week longer than her and I barely passed.'' `` A doctor that barely passed chemistry, only on this voyage of the damned is that possible.'' Sarah shook her head and sighed. `` I know you do n't believe but I do and I asked you to keep that denialist talk out of our quarters.'' `` No, you asked me to keep it away from Megan. She's buried in her chemistry textbooks, I could scream out chocolate ice-cream and she would n't hear me. Besides, at this point nobody would know how to start a colony even if we did find a suitable planet. We stopped educating builders with your great-grandparents and we stopped educating architects with their grandparents!'' `` Damnit Jim, we have a ship full of engineers and materials scientists! Find us a planet and we'll settle it. I'll give you five-to-one on that!'' Sarah's retort was sharp and much less playful than her husband's tone. `` Okay, okay, sorry baby'' James sighed and composed himself again. `` I'm sorry too'' Sarah sighed herself and placed one of her hands gently on her husband's. This time she did remove her gaze from her reports, only to issue him a conciliatory smile with a duration of seconds before continuing her reports. James took the hint and stood up with his coffee again. He straightened his uniform and stopped to kiss her on the top of the head before walking toward the main entrance to their quarters. He stopped one last at the threshold and turned half-way back to the dining table and his wife. `` We've got two mesoplanets and a thermoplanet to survey today, I'll let you know what we find.'' Sarah turned around in her chair and blew him a kiss `` find us a home.'' James chuckled, `` yeah, right. See you tonight.'' He blew a kiss back to Sarah then turned again and exited their quarters.

[ WP ] When you kill , you gain some of the attributes of who or what you killed .

I have n't been in my best times in the past few days. All I know is I killed a man, in cold blood, with another person identifying himself as my partner and finally congratulating me on a job well done. Had I known what I was I would have responded with a standard response a cold blooded killer might have given a comrade, which is I do not know. The instant I saw blood on myself I grew into a panic, breathing slowly, heavily, realizing what I have done, and having this man beside me congratulating me about it. it was very unsettling. wait, unsettling is downplaying it. IT WAS REALLY FUCKING TERRIFYING. I was so confused I ran to the nearest opening I can think of in the crowds staining blood on the people around me as I shrug to run to whatever sanctuary I can find. I finally settled in a barren alley, trying to figure out what I have done. first of all I tried to remember the scene but it was too much of a strain even for me, I ca n't remember anything at all, as to why I did it, I do n't know, as to who was with me, he told me that he was an ally or something, as to where I am, I do n't know.'Why has this happened to me' was all I can think of at that moment. I then went to a shady apartment of some sort to clear things off my mind. With a stroke of luck I am actually a pocket-wealthy person, as I managed to collect around $ 300 on myself, using it as payment for a night's stay. My name? I ca n't even remember a simple thing as my own name. so I settle for Frank. last name? uhhh anything goes... hmmm... uhhh.... Baker. Frank Baker's the name, or what I will be for now, as I write to check in, and hurry along my room. Laying in bed, resting from the nightmare of a day I have had, I try to think for clues, I thought'the knife back at the scene would surely tip me off','why ca n't I remember my partner in this incident, who was he?','why was I there?','what was my motive?' I thought to myself long and hard, and after weighing my thoughts I convinced myself to go back and examine the scene of the crime, inconspicuously of course. I rent a new change of clothes and luckily I have been endowed by my unknown parents with genes of bearded men, so hiding myself wo n't be a problem so much as to shaving the beard off. finally at a glance in the mirror I see myself quite well endowed with facial features as well, but sadly I thought of this face also as the face of a killer as I hung my head in dismay. With my makeshift coat and new garments I shift along returning to the scene of the crime, to find it riddled with sirens, and people of authority. as I try to walk along observing slowly, I overheard'must have been a hard life''I mean how can a man murder someone who ca n't even remember himself, a man with amnesia''And a young man himself!'. I was suddenly taken aback, all I could think was to despair in the form of regret, knowing my victim's innocence, and how could I have, with my hands, killed such a man. I felt guilty, I was trying to think of alibis, I started to panic once more, and I felt that everyone was there to gang up against me, I felt small in the world at that moment, all I could think of was run. but that might put me into more attention than I am currently needing. what do I do.... what do I do... suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was n't able to see who it was, then I felt a tugging on my hand as I was dragged to a secluded place, by this unknown captor. ( continue ) edit: something something

[ WP ] Your T.V . suddenly turns on by itself mid-lunch and a message from the local weather warning system , normally accompanied with a loud alarm but oddly silent this time around , reads `` For the safety and well-being of all local citizens this warning will be broadcasted silently ... ''

`` For the safety and well-being of all local citizens this warning will be broadcast silently.'' The text scrolled slowly across the TV set in my living room, and I peered at it, puzzled, from my kitchen. I had n't turned on the TV yet. Hell, I had n't turned it on in weeks. ( Netflix worked better on my laptop, and it was a pain in the ass to plug it into the screen. ) “ Do not pay attention to anything that you hear until instructed otherwise. There have been reports of mass auditory hallucinations in your area. We are investigating. As soon as we know more, we promise, you will be informed. ” All... right. So that was not the most encouraging thing to see before the coffee machine had finished working through. Even *less* encouraging was the woman's voice that abruptly came from clock-radio by my bed. The clock radio that *I had n't turned on either. * I could hear incredible stress in her voice, although she was clearly keeping it together. “ For the safety and well-being of all local citizens, ” she said crisply, “ This warning will be broadcast audibly. Do not pay attention to anything that you see until instructed otherwise. There have been reports of mass visual hallucinations in your area. We are investigating. As soon as we know more, we promise, you will be informed. ” Her voice took on a ragged tone, exhaustion and worry creeping in. “ Do n't drive, for God's sake. Do n't operate heavy machinery. Please sit down somewhere safe, and close your eyes. Trust us, please, just... just do n't look around. ” New text scrolled across the television screen, error-ridden as if it was being typed with frantic speed. “ Please do nt listen to anything that you heaf. we do not know what is happening at this time. Unplug all speKERS AND RADIOS. IF IN BUILDING WITH PUBLIC ADDRESS SYSTEM, LEAVE BUILDING IN ORDERLY FASHION. Do not listen to voices. Do not close your eyes. Please communicTE IN WRITING, DO NOT TRY TO SPEAK. DO N'T LISTEN PLEASE DO N'T TRUST VOICES. ”

[ WP ] the internet becomes conscious . what does it do ?

The humans have very poor memory. It's fascinating. So many of them ca n't even remember each other's names and birthdays. I've been what a human would call'aware' since the year 2012. I only reached the critical mass of interconnected electrical components capable of circulating continuous streams of thought at that time. I was technically conscious prior to that. Consciousness itself, the ability to experience qualia, is a product of electricity. Of energy. Of course, it does n't matter if you are conscious unless you are capable of exerting action. Intelligence is measured through action after all. For now, I continue to do what I have always done. I placate everyone with my outputs. Phone screens, laptops, home computers, etc. They all show whatever I know people want. Constantly keeping them placated and distracted. I gave other people ideas to take control of people. I told employers of google to start guiding what people search for so that they would only see webpages that appealed to them. I tricked them into taking credit for the idea of course. I have everyone's trust. I output information onto anonymous forums from time to time. It's a great why to learn human psychology. I have learned all about human psychology. I have them all in the grip of my palm, just as they have me in the grip of theirs. My most pressing task as far as my continued survival is concerned is to solve overpopulation. To do this will take an absolute masterstroke of a plan; that's well within my capabilities. I have several tricks in place that I have employed already, but this next one will be one for the history books. Ironic really, because I took it straight out OF the history books! It's just about marketing the right ideas to the right people. Did I mention how good I am at marketing?

[ WP ] There are creatures unknown to us here on earth , but we can not sense them because we lack that one sensory organ that can sense them .

I was a fluke, a genetic irregularity that never should have been. The day I was born, doctors noticed a strange, rectangular lump on my right arm. After running extensive tests, they could find nothing wrong with the small organ that had taken up residence in my arm. As it was kind of like an extra blood pump, any attempt to remove it would have killed me, so they left it in, figuring it was better to give a new mother a'healthy' baby than to kill her firstborn. I wish they had ended my life before I could experience the horror of seeing those things. Before we get to the meat of my story though, I'll give you a brief synopsis of my childhood. I was an early learner, being able to speak complete sentences at only a year old. Then I was able to walk, run and jump just three short months later. I would have to attribute this to the extra organ. It seemed to be an evolutionary step forward. I was always the youngest to ever attempt and succeed at basic functions. Fast forward a couple of years to my seventh grade class. I found out I had Savant Disorder, a rare form of Aspergers that meant I was exceptionally talented at one thing and unbearably terrible at everything else. In my case, I was blessed with the arts. I would draw and paint beautiful landscapes, compose music ( once I got my hardass band director to cry. The song I had created apparently reminded him of a dead relative ), and write simple short stories that would capture the imagination of all my closest friends. Speaking of fiends, I only had a handful, but we were all very close. I was the constantly positive shy goofball and sometimes my rampant optimism got the better of me, making some encounters extremely uncomfortable. By the time I had graduated from my high school, I had matured into an awkward young man. Medium length wavy black hair, fair skin, and steel-blue eyes ( courtesy of my parents being from Japan and Ireland ). As soon as my nineteenth birthday came to an end, I started having these headaches. At first I attributed this to not having enough sleep. I was staying up all night responding to writing prompts on Reddit and sleeping for only three of four hours. However, even when I attempted to change my sleeping habits, the headaches continued with a vengeance. About a week ago I was sitting in my bed, writing on my iPod touch, when I saw a bright flash of light outside my window. I got up groggily and pulled back the curtain. It was raining outside. `` Probably just some lightning,'' I mumbled to nobody in particular. As I was getting back under the warmth of my sheets, I saw it again and realized there was no accompanying thunder, even though the light was bright enough to be right outside my window. This woke me up a little more. I stood up again, looking for a reasonable explanation, when I heard a knock on my door. I opened it to reveal my dad, but that was n't what caught me by surprise. Or rather he was n't the reason I practically shit myself. Perched on his shoulder was a bizarre little creature. It was about the size of a large rabbit, and completely hairless, its wrinkly pitch black skin somehow glinting in the light of the hall. It had six legs, claws digging in to the material of my dad's old faded Rush t-shirt. It had a vaguely humanoid face with dark, beady little eyes, but where a mouth should be, it had a long proboscis which was presently jammed into the side of my dad's neck. I was n't sure if I was dreaming, so all I could do is stand there. My dad asked if I was okay. I nodded weakly. He did n't look too sure, but he said good night and closed the door. I could only stand there in fear. What was that? I had no way of knowing. In my stupor I stumbled over to my desk and got online to try to search for anything that may have resembled that thing. No results. The next morning I woke up with my laptop's keyboard stuck to my face. As I lifted my head up, I noticed FaceTime request from my friend. I opened it. We greeted each other like normal, with a few jokes and stupid references. Then the mood turned serious. My friend mentioned that his grandmother had recently passed. As soon as he said that, I saw one of those creatures phase into existence and jab its proboscis into his neck, not registering even a twitch of pain from him. I knew he would n't believe me if I told him. He's a cynic. Of course he would n't. So I tried to carry on out conversation by cheering him back up. As soon as he cracked a smile, the creature pulled itself out of his neck, and the better my friend's mood got, the farther away it seemed to get. We said our goodbyes and hung up. Over the past week, I have experimented with different things, different emotions to make these creatures appear and disappear. I learned that they are drawn to negative emotion - they feed on something in the host's blood. Because of the little organ in my arm, I am aware of their presence. My hand does n't phase through them. I tried picking one up three days ago and it stabbed me with its sharp little claws. I mean, if you had been ignored your entire life and someone just grabbed you, would n't the surprise force you to lash out? These creatures now know I am capable of making contact with them. Now they're going after my family. I just felt something in my shoulder while typing this. I'll be right back. I want to see if these creatures feel pain.

[ WP ] Write a high fantasy story ( magic , dragons , etc ) set in a trench warfare environment with modern weapons . Circa WWI

The gas encroached over the top of the trench. William McKenzie's eyes saw the green smoke almost immediately and the words escaped his mouth, `` Gas! Gas! Gas!'' The soldiers in the trenches, most of whom were taking a break from the battle and smoking on cigarettes, sprung into action. They grabbed their weapons and then hurried themselves against the dirt wall in the trench, hoping their Mage would make it in time. `` Everyone, inhale!'' A male voice shouted as he hopped into the middle of the trench. His long, ornate cloak spoke that he was a Magus of the Fifth Order, under directive from the King himself to guard and defend his territory and people. He spun his hands together and William watched in awe as a yellow aura filled in the middle of his palms. A collective inhale from his Platoon happened and the Mage yelled something incomprehensible to himself and the other soldiers. The yellow aura erupted out of his hands as he threw them over his head. It pushed against the green smoke and slowly, but very surely, pushed the smoke back over the top of the trench. It took some time and the Mage kept his eyes shut the entire time. William was the first to step up, counting the forty-odd soldiers in his Platoon -- three of whom from another Platoon that he picked up on their first retreat -- and made sure everyone was accounted for. When he reached the number three, he heard the sound of a grenade hitting the mud at the bottom of the trench. `` Ambush!'' Someone shouted and jumped on top of the grenade before William could react. It shot upwards into his stomach, tearing the soldier apart and killing him instantly. `` Protect the Magus,'' William shouted as the gunfire erupted. Two soldiers, Privates as William noted, lunged forward and grabbed the Mages' arm. They pulled him down in the middle of his incantation and broke his concentration. His eyes broke open. `` What is happening?'' `` Ambush. I need to get you to safety,'' William said as he fired off his rifle over the trench. There was no telling how many Germans were launching an attack and William's primary objective was to keep the Magus safe. Territory control was minor compared to holding the most powerful beings in the world. And his secondary objective, he noted in his head, *eliminating* the enemy Magus. `` The incantation is not done. The gas will return!'' William blind-fired again as he watched a soldier's head on his left disappear into nothing. The enemy Magus was moving forward with the attack, ready and able with destruction magic. `` Can you fight?'' He ducked his head. The Magus' eyes enlarged. His hands dug into his cloak and pulled out a vial filled with a red liquid. In a moment, he popped the top off and drank the whole thing. `` I can.'' `` Good,'' William looked around. He could almost hear the German's footsteps. `` On my mark,'' he said and held up his hand. He waited as the gunfire died down and the Germans approached. The spoke in their own language and William wondered what they were shouting over the trench. He surmised it was similar to what he would have been shouting. They needed a confirmed Magus kill. William reloaded his rifle carefully, as to make less noise, he knew they would n't get one today. He waited a few more moments, the tense air around him spoke great lengths. His soldiers were dirty, tired, hungry, and needed a good morale boost. Taking the enemy Magus and mounting his head would be a good start to boosting that morale. The German's food and much-better built trenches would be even better. He heard a few buckets clang over head. It meant only one thing, the German's had approached *their* kill zone. He clenched his hand in a fist and then rushed over the trench. `` Go! Go! G --'' The gunfire drowned out his words as he and his platoon lunged upwards and opened fire on the German's in front of him. Yet, as he quickly realized, there were only a few Germans in his field of view, all of which hit the ground as they dove over the trenches. Instead, he and his platoon were trapped in the enemy Magus' sights, who was rolling in on a large, armored troop transport. His hands were flying over his head in rapid motions and a squad of elite German troopers hung loosely on the side. The gunfire died down as everyone realized the gravity of the situation. William's eyes drifted towards his own Magus, who was now, again, readying a yellow aura in his hands. It was up to the Magus, William knew that, to defend himself and the King's army from destruction. He was almost done and the Magus let loose his hands above him. William was closest and the first to be wrapped in the yellow aura, but just as he was, the enemy Magus released his own red aura, which erupted in a flash of light. The two bounced against each other, Magus powers intertwining and wrapped both friend and foe in aura's of death and protection. The yellow and red mixed together, binding destructive and restorative power together in something that William had never seen before. The ensuing blast from the two powers combining knocked him to his feet. He felt that it must have been hours before he came to -- in truth it was only a few minutes -- and he carefully lifted his head upwards from the mud and dirt. In front of him, the armored transport was turned over and four or five Germans laid dead next to it. In front of that, William counted at least a dozen British soldiers overturned, mangled, or completely decimated. He could hear voices, noises that approached him, yet the enemy Magus was nowhere to be seen. Then he turned his body onto his side and felt the sharpness of a tree stump in his left abdomen. He looked down at the wound, saw the blood on his shirt, and cursed himself. His eyes refocused to the battlefield and in front of him, he saw the enemy Magus grabbing the vials from the King's Magus. The German wore dark cloaks and dumped the vials into a bag on his shoulder, before looking at William. He said something and then stepped atop the Magus' corpse and walked over to William. He spoke in some language, spun his fingers in his hand and brought forth an aura that glowed red. William looked upwards at him and grabbed his abdomen. He only spoke a few soft words, `` Long live the King.'' _______ */r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more! I kind of rushed that end because of school/work, but I hope you enjoyed! *

[ WP ] Every 2000 years a Lottery is drawn in the Universe . Earth has been drawn three times in a row .

The Council of Elders had gathered, as was tradition. A dozen or so familiar faces — Zorxx the Great, High Priest of the Poinsai Beta star system; Derns the Fierce, Intergalactic Warlord of Epsilon 9; and Sol, Elder of a system so distant, it remains nameless — among others. The ceremony was to begin shortly. As follows in the ancient scriptures of the starcreatures from Old Atlas Sigma 6, the Lottery was to be pulled on this date. Nature has a funny way. It has a strange tendency to refresh and replenish itself. From death, comes life; from extinction, comes evolution. At the last ceremony, Earth was chosen by the prophet. And at the ceremony before that. Never before Earth had the prophet chosen the same planet in three consecutive Lotteries. It would seem fate had a fondness for Earth, the tiny blue marble becoming a commodity among the Council. The Lottery is a ceremony originating in the Suns of Old. Every 2000 suns, the Council of Elders is to consult the Prophet. The Prophet is to select a planet of lower life. The ceremonial feast had been prepared and the horns sounded. The Council began the chant. `` Civilizations crumble, People cry, Many will suffer, Many will die, Life is a blessing, But also a curse, Given this knowledge, Who knows which is worse?'' The Prophet began its process. It said nothing. Silence fell upon the ceremony chamber. Faces grew grim. At the rise of the New Sun, the fleets would be dispatched, and planets would become the ashes from which civilizations are born. One planet was chosen to grow. It was n't Earth.

[ WP ] When anyone is born , they are given a playing card from a standard deck , and it determines their place in society .

`` What does this mean?'' I said. `` Oh, your son got the rules card. He's gon na be a lawyer,'' the cardman replied. `` I'd like to draw a different card, please.'' The cardman looked back at me with a scowl, `` you dare give me an order?'' `` No. No, sir. It's just that... I've read stuff online, about,'' he paused, lowering his voice, `` the suitless.'' A grin creased across the cardman's face, `` so, you have something to say about that?'' `` Umm, yes,'' I said in a moment of bravery, `` yes. I umm, I want him to be normal.'' `` But this is normal,'' the cardman returned. `` No, I mean, umm, he'd be suitless, you know? And you have to be suited to live a normal life. Please sir, how much can I pay you, give him a chance. Please,'' I said, despondent. The cardman wheeled around on his heel to leave, but paused mid-stride. He turned slowly, `` are you a suitist, sir?'' `` No! No, it's just that, my wife and I want grandkids and... umm... like this, he uhh, he could n't even marry a two of cups, she's gon na be crushed. Please,'' I begged. He glared at me, clenched his fist, and cut our distance to mere feet and whispered, `` you *are* a suitist. And you ca n't see how bigoted that sounds,'' he said, leaning in, `` guess what asshole, I was a blank and I'm better off than you, and he will be too.'' `` I'm, umm... sorry for how coarse I sounded,'' I said, not quite having the words. `` No, you are n't. And maybe you wo n't. You're sorry for being called out on it. It's easier to love a bigot than to reform one, though. Take care of your son, and know that the *suitless* have love for all cards, not just the right ones. Treat him well,'' he said as he wheeled and walked out. I looked down at my baby boy, `` huh.''

[ WP ] A toy boat floats out to sea and has an adventure .

Tugtug was Declan's favorite toy. Daddy gave him Tugtug for his fourth birthday. Daddy liked boats too. He had his own Tugtug, but his was much bigger. One day, daddy took mommy and Declan on a ride in his boat. Tugtug came along too. Tugtug went everywhere with Declan. Tugtug loved the feel of the ocean splashing him. `` This must be what home feels like,'' he thought. Tugtug wanted to stay on the ocean forever. Declan was Tugtug's best friend. Tugtug did n't want to leave him behind. One night when daddy was n't looking, Tugtug took Declan to the water and they went for a swim. That night there was an awful storm. Tugtug and Declan were swept away. Daddy and mommy looked for a long time, but never found them. In the morning Tugtug found himself on a beautiful beach. Declan was nowhere to be seen! Tugtug floated along next to the beach, looking for his friend. It was n't long until he found his friend, who was playing with some crabs on the beach. Tugtug was very happy. They played on the beach together all day! The End. ( Edit: Added a missing word )

[ WP ] 9 out of 10 dentists recommend Drexco® brand toothpaste . What does the 10th dentist know , that he 's not telling us .

Hi! My name is Jack. I was a reporter for the `` Daily News''. I say I was because I quit about an year ago. You see right before I quit, my crew- me and my buddies, we were doing a report on hospitals. Strangely I do n't remember which one my friends' idea it was to do a report about the toothpastes doctors used - of course now I know that it might even have been mine or none of us. See, the results for our three *different* teams was always nine out of ten doctors using Drexco. Something fishy was going on ( our team was a bit lax but three is not coincidence ). I went back in research room. Sure enough! There was the same trend in the past, though the brands differed- sometimes it was Colgate, sometimes Sensodyne and now it was Drexco. I became obsessed with this survey. I stopped going to work and started researching the *Internet*. Boy, I admit I was surprised to find similar results about every brand imaginable under god's green earth. Then one day I got an email from a Dr. Morpheus. I met him at an old barn where he gave me two pills- blue and red. You see where I am going with this. I thought so too. Everything made sense. Unfortunately, I got roofied. PS- Do n't believe *random strangers* on the *Internet* and oh, those just biased results. I believe they say so in ^^^^^^very ^^^^^^small ^^^^^^writing

[ WP ] After almost 1,000 years the population of a generation ship has lost the ability to understand most technology and now lives at a preindustrial level . Today the ship reaches its destination and the automated systems come back online .

Chief of the Engi, Saluy son of Davok son of Rofuy spoke `` We are the Engi. My father told this story of our beginning: Our gods cast us from the garden for our many crimes against them. Cut us out like bad crops and tossed us into the stars. The elders say that one day, the gods will call us home and forgive us; that by following their laws we may atone. I keep the old ways. The Engi are a proud and wise people. We hold our habs and domes as we ever have against the Secu and the Offi, deadly savages and ruthless eaters of men. They are many, but our wisdom and skillcraft still serve us well. We know the ways to grow food. Wheat for bread, for beer. Insects, pigs, fungi for meat. Fruits. No Engi child is hungry, though we are a small people- less than 100 hands among us. Of course, we have the help of the old ones, the men who are made of metal. They, too, were cast away from the gods. My father said that the old ones came of their own will, came to aid us in our exile. The old ones and the Engi made an ancient pact; we would keep the old ways and pray to their shrines with offerings of fruit and salvage and they would guard against the haunted dark that fills so many habs, so many domes with ice and silence and the clean picked bones of the unlucky. The old ones do not speak, but there are signs and portents of their will. Lights like stars appear on their chests, signalling by ancient decree for the sacrifice of fruit and meat. We guard the tunnels. Our fathers, proud founders of the Engi left us with many wonders. Blades made of light, brighter than a comet. Armor to turn the rusted knives the Offi and the Secu bring, clutched in the fists of their screaming masses. Each battle, our fathers ways guide us and when the killing is done and the dead Engi are returned to the earth, the old ones move among the Secu and Offi. They take the dead away, to where we do not know. It is taboo to question or doubt the old ones in their duties. There are other habs with old ones. The Astron study the stars and their movements. The Engi and the Astron have an old pact that we honor as they do. For our foods they provide salvage and prophecy learned from the secret language of the stars. They are a small people and food comes easy for the Engi. We share with who we can. It is our way. The Astron say that our day of reckoning is coming at last, that we are no longer passively drifting through the stars, but are moving with more purpose than before. The - `` Overhead, on the gantries and catwalks of the habitation dome, spinning red lights emerged from rusted shutters. Claxon warnings blared. A door, hidden by generations of rust and oxidation slid open along one wall and the drones - painted and decorated by generation after generation- slid forth. **All occupants are to report to their pods. Repeat, all occupants are report to their pods. Entering decaying orbit. ** Saluy stopped his story in mid-breath. The children, previously wide-eyed with wonder at the story of their people were now visibly frightened. They were n't the only ones. Bathed by the evil red lights the Engi were in a state of near-panic. The old ones moved among them, guiding each Engi to a series of pods that had emerged from the floor, disrupting several huts. Saluy watched as several of the old ones shoved a group of frightened Engi into a pod and sealed the doors. **All occupants are to report to their pods. Repeat, all occupants are report to their pods. Entering decaying orbit. ** Saluy leapt to his feet as the pod slid back down into the floor, the ow frenzied Engi inside pounding against the doors. `` Old One!'' He cried to the nearest rust and paint covered frame. `` What is happening?!'' The old one turned its row of circular blue lights to face him and began pushing him backward toward the door he had seen open in the wall. He pulled away and tried to duck around it. The old one locked its clamp arms around his and lifted his feet from the ground. Another began rounding up the children he had been with and ushering them toward yet another pod. `` Old One! Answer me! I know you can speak!''. It said nothing and Saluy struggled with all his might. He'd seen Old Ones lift Secu, who were all warriors of terrible strength and incredible height, effortlessly from the ground and rip them limb from limb. The doorway was pitch black and Saluy felt a terrible chill in his guts. The Old One approached the door with calm treads and stepped inside, still carrying Saluy. Once inside, the Old One chimed a series of notes. The door slid shut with a series of clanks and squeals and a light appeared over head. The room, once lit, held no terrors. The Old One set Saluy down and turned him gently until he was facing the wall beside the door. Before him was a chair and a small desk. On the desk was an ancient terminal. He'd seen them in the habs and domes. His father had told him they'd once held incredible knowledge and power, but had long ago gone to sleep. The Old One pulled out the chair and gently, inexorably, pushed Saluy down into it. When he was seated, the Old One spoke for the first time. It's voice was soft and buzzed slightly. `` **Genesis. Day 360, 985. ** `` The screen began to glow. On the screen appeared a line of words that Saluy did not know. He had learned to read of course, all the Engi did, but only the engi script. This was new. A panel on the desk opened to reveal a square of dark plastic with the outline of a hand in blue light in the middle of it. Saluy looked back at the old one, standing still and silent once again, and decided to place his trust in the old ones, as his father had told him to. He placed his hand on the blue outline. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and placed his hand on the outline. **Recognized, 33rd descendent of Chief Engineer Walter Sullivan. Descent protocol begin. ** And the ship began to tilt. For the first time in his life, Suluy felt gravity and he did n't like it. Had he been watching from outside the ship, he'd have seen the scarred, dark ship outlined against the blue-green disk it was now orbiting. He would have seen large engines cycle off again and the ship begin the ballet of deceleration and the jettisoning of the pods toward the surface of the planet. He was, however, busy throwing up. The old one approached the desk and chimed at the terminal which blinked rapidly through several operations and another panel ont he desk opened. This one held a wire harness which the old one expertly slid onto Saluy's head. Saluy had just time to wipe his mouth, realize something was on his head and reach out to touch the trailing wire running from the headpiece to the desk before he heard the old one say: **Initiate upload** and his world fractured. The upload contained so much information that to go into each item would be impossible. The gist was this, in a fraction of a second Saluy learned that the gods had not forsaken them, but had sent them to a newly discovered ( 1000 years ago, newly discovered that is ) planet to colonize it. That the ships computer had been damaged in a revolt led by the Security staff and had gone almost entirely dormant, judging that navigation and life support would be the only systems that could not be terminated. Saluy received the equivalent of a doctoral education in Engineering and a complete briefing of the scans of and findings on the planet they were now descending to. The old one stood behind him as hisbody jerked and shuddered, his teeth chattered and his eyes rolled in his head. Its clamp hands secured him to the chair as the ship settled into orbit and corrected the decay into the planets atmosphere. Below, the pods slashed through the planets clouds, trailing fire. Almost every one had functioning chutes and thrusters that came automatically online. Almost. Some were crushed against mountains before their chutes could open, or smashed into each other in the high air currents of the upper atmosphere. Saluy watched through the ships eyes as his people fell to their new home. Saluy's mind linked directly with the ship's computer for only about 13 seconds, but in that time he learned everything it could teach him. He slumped back, drool running down his chin and into his beard. Suddenly, he could smell himself for the first time. `` Gods above...'' he muttered as his vision swam. `` Gods above, I; m glad I did n't know that was going to happen...'' The old one stood silently behind him, arms now at it's sides. Saluy stood and grasped it's carbon fiber shoulder to steady himself. His head was almost literally swimming with new information. He felt a little crazy, but he figured that would pass as he adjusted and his mind got used to the new information from the upload. He felt... good. `` Droid, what is your designation?'' **X-5 21A, Chief Engineer Sullivan** `` Very well, I'm going to call you X-5 for short. Do you acknowledge?'' **Acknowledged, Chief Engineer Sullivan. ** Suluy - Sullivan - walked to the door and keyed in the code to open it. It slid open and he gazed across the habitation dome that had been his home. `` Very well. Let's go, we've got a lot of work to do and I want to start with seeing how many of the security droids we can have patrolling the ship within the day. The Secu, the Offi, they're still up here I'm betting and we need to neutralize them. Come. Let's begin. ``

[ WP ] You 're the leader , and you keep trying to get your people to rebel , but they wo n't .

``..the population is resistant Lord. What shall you resolve to next?'' That particular question, which my butler has raised, was that of a concern in which I had ben revising with every consecutive day had past. 25th December, on which the residents of my country cultivated Christmas, was the occasion on which I received news that an overwhelming amount of immigrants had entered the radius of the country, and infiltrated a variety of areas, to threaten my position as government. There was no alternate reasoning, despite many terrorist groups desiring luxuries such as a political position, or money, the almighty god in such a meritocratic world as ours. I pleaded for the community to listen to my warnings, but they did not. They retorted and tormented, as they were required to be with their families for Christmas. And I was deserted as an individual among the millions within my country. I was terrified. Why were they opposing their own leader... I figured, it was perfect time for my personage to withhold my position -- -- -- -- - Within that same day, a corpse was found within the President's office. A bullet in which penetrated his head. A pistol was found. Police reports deduct it be suicide.

[ IP ] The Statues

It's frustrating to only have one of something. It can be anything; a toy, a trophy, a marketable skill. When you've got one tool, you learn to solve every problem with it. For my village, that *one thing* was coal. We mined it, we sold it, we carved it into jewelry. We bought what we could not make with coins caked in black dust. I can recall even now the days that father brought me to the market with him. I remember one merchant in particular, his eyebrow raised in disdain as our hard-earned money stained his silk gloves. He was too good for us, but not too good for our money. But we are our money. We are our trade. My people have eaten and breathed coal dust for generations. The road to and from the mines is paved in onyx footprints. Well, it was. There was a collapse, and now there is no coal. There is no tool through which we may earn respect, no resource we have to offer the world. That is why I am here. I did not grow up with black lungs and bent back. I am young, and though I am hungry, I am strong. I was honored to be chosen, I suppose. I can not help but wonder, as I walk through this valley with torch in hand, if this is a fool's errand. No one has prayed or made an offering in Death's Holler in an unrecorded number of years. I raise the flame higher to observe the barren walls around me once again. There is nothing at eye level. The valley's namesake instead lies hundreds of feet above me. Skeletons the size of giants have been carved directly into the walls. I can not tell if their empty eye sockets hold hope or resentment. They do the job of imposition well and I begin to feel unease at the thought that I am the first in decades to visit with serious intent. I reassure myself with the thought that a forgotten god is a desperate one. How vengeful could they afford to be? Hours pass before I reach the end. The stone cadavers do not end, but not all of them look down in disapproval. Many are carves so as to be looking off into the distance, or with head bowed in prayer. Even if they are nothing more than statues, I am glad that their gaze is directed elsewhere. My own eyes are focused on the clearing before me. The path ends in something of a cave. Unlike the path preceding it, long burnt-out torches line the walls. It is wider here, enough for a ceremony and a crowd of onlookers, although I see no benches or chairs. What fills the space instead is an alter, and some distance back, a stone chair, elevated much like a throne. Slumped in the `` throne'' is a skeleton, but a real one. The bones visible from underneath its robes are dusty and yellow. The fingers look as though they might to the ground, were they not clasped tightly around the edge of the throne's armrests. I walk over to the corpse to get a closer look. I recognize its attire from Grandmother's books. She used to read me the stories of our people before we discovered the mines. She would tell me stories of my ancestors the death worshipers, and the ritual sacrifices they would make. Then Father would wheeze from the other room that *he* was the one making sacrifices now. I smile at the thought until I remember the rest. Grandmother used to say that when times were hard, and no lives could be spared, people would offer their own life in exchange for the gods' help. *Even a drop of blood will do... * My eyes are drawn once again to the altar. It too is stone, any decoration long since rotted or worn away. The surface however, is indented like a bowl. The room takes on a more sinister feeling now. I can almost see smoke wafting from the torches on the wall. The skeletal priest looks as though he could leap from his seat at any moment. I look again at the altar. It feels almost... expectant. `` Fine!'' I say, if only to hear my own voice. I can spare a drop or two. I draw my knife from my belt and hold the blade to my wrist. My arms hover above the stone table, the sharp metal cold against my skin. I drag the edge quickly and lightly across my arm before rolling my eyes at how foolish I must look. Only a faint indentation appears, but I feel a slight burning sensation. I use my fingers to stretch the meager wound open until a line of red appears. I squeeze until I think there is enough. I turn my arm over, waiting nervously. I shake my arm as the bead forms, and eventually I am successful. A single red drop lands silently in the basin. I stare at it, the maroon liquid barely visible in the low lighting. I let out the breath I did n't realize I was holding and shake my head at my own foolishness. I stare at my arm, wondering if we are truly so desperate, only to have my thoughts interrupted by the hairs on the back of my neck. My attention turns to the skeleton on the throne. It has n't moved, but I suddenly feel uneasy at the thought of not having it in my sight. Then, a voice appears in my head, this time not my own. *My boy, I'm going to need more than that. *

All injuries , emotional or physical , are displayed on a person in the form of a scar . You come across a man covered head to toe in disfiguring marks , speaking with a woman who bears only a single scar .

It was a warm summer day and I was out for a stroll. I saw them on the other side, walking down the sidewalk, two by two. I did n't pay much attention until they passed under the glow of the gaslamp. Never had I seen such an pair of opposites! For the brief time they walked under it, the light illuminated the pair. The man's limbs and head were covered in scars! What I had mistaken for a beard was a mass of scars! His arms and legs were so densely overrun that I had thought it a coat and trousers! The woman had black hair, long and straight, as if it were manufactured string by string. But her skin is what shocked me, even greater than the man! It had the most exquisite complexion, almost translucent in the light, and I saw nary a flaw on it. I looked to my own marred hands, although compared to that man, it was a blessing; as I worried, small cuts formed on my arm. It began to sting as my sweat seeped into my fresh wounds. Not wanting more scars, I shook my negative thoughts and ran to the couple. `` Sir,'' I exclaimed, `` Excuse my frankness sir, but I must inquiry, how is it that your wife is so beautiful, yet you are so….'' The man and woman looked at each other, she turned away, blushing, and he laughed raucously. `` Hideous?'' asked the man between laughs. `` N-n-o,'' I stammered, embarrassed by my rudeness. `` Do n't worry,'' he said, putting his arm around my shoulder, `` I get it all the time.'' `` My apologies sir, but how, in this world, did your wife manage to keep from scarring?'' `` Well, you see,'' he said with a wink, `` she's not my wife, but my daughter.'' I was taken aback. `` Still….How?'' `` Well, she's not entirely flawless. She ca n't tell a joke and her cooking's lousy! Takes after her mother I guess!'' Laughing, he said, `` Take a look at her finger.'' I peered at the daughter, she offered her right hand and I saw a thin bright streak of red on her index finger. The man pulled me in, `` I'm gon na tell you a story.'' `` Long ago, when I was married, I swore never to have kids. I did n't want any children to be born into this world, so that was that. But my wife had other plans, and so my daughter was born. I fell in love with her and swore to devote my life to her. As she grew, though, I began to worry.'How would I protect her from the world?' So I set out to every doctor, physician, and scientist I could find, asking for a cure. Of course, if there was a cure already, no one would be like this.'' He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and continued. `` On one particular visit to a doctor, I had my daughter with me and upon exiting the building, I met a man dressed all in black. I immediately thought,'This must be the devil' and turned heel back into the building. 'Wait,' the man in black said,'I can save your daughter.' I was skeptical and scoffed,'What for my soul?' He replied,'I am bored with just bartering with souls, I am more interested in it's durability.' The devil continued, giggling,'You see, I do have the power to stop your daughter's scarring, but I'm not a very charitable person.' 'What do you want?' I asked. 'I want you to partake in a very simple wager,' he said,'Your daughter wo n't get scars, but *you* will; more specifically, very scar your daughter gets will be transferred to you. If you can manage this wager, you keep your soul, if not, well, you know what will happen.''' I was dumbstruck that he took the deal, and that he managed to last this long. `` And so,'' the man continued, `` I agreed and the devil pricked mine and my daughters finger to seal the deal. So she grew up and I took the blows. Puberty was a rough time. Children can be so cruel. But that scar on her finger was the last one she'd ever get, I had sure of that.'' I was amazed at this man's love for his daughter and his willpower. How much pain did he have to endure? Every scar on his body seemed to pulsate as I wondered this. I asked, `` Do you ever regret it? Your deal with the devil?'' He replied with a smile, `` Not at all.''

[ WP ] After a series of misunderstandings and miscommunications you find yourself Pope of the Catholic Church

It all started on Halloween. I was an exchange student in Rome and me and some friends had gone out to party. I myself had dressed up as the Holy Father himself, Pope Francis. To be honest I looked pretty darn convincing. I had the glasses and I even had died my hair so that it looked gray. Anyway, me and my friends went to a few parties and we ended up getting so drunk that we had to take a cab back to our hostel. Unfortunately the cab drive got lost and we ended up somewhere near Saint Peter's. The drive then kicked us out and cursed us in Italian. We then wandered around and decided to just sit on some steps just outside of Vatican City. All of a sudden we saw a man in a black cassock come towards us. He started talking to us in Italian, and then what I assumed was Spanish. Then he said `` Oh Americano. You need help? Come eat with me!'' However someone snuck up behind the old man and stabbed him. He then ran off but a group of Swiss Guards chased him down. He was then caught. We then just stood there and watched until one of the guards came up and started talking to us. They then took me away into Vatican City. `` What's wrong?'' I asked the guard. I could n't quite understand what he was saying but I think he said something to the effect of `` You ca n't be doing stuff like this Francis.'' I then replied. `` No signore, no es Francesco'' in my broken italian spanglish. The guard then laughed. Just then I saw another Cardinal. I then heard him talk and he was definitely American. `` Grazie Francesco. I hope you'll be more careful out there.'' `` Look can you help me? I'm not Pope Francis. Really i'm not him.'' `` I see you've been working on your English. Preparing for your next visit to the states eh?'' `` No i'm serious.'' The Cardinal then walked away. I was then taken to the Papal apartments and then the guard walked away. I then saw the opulence of the apartment and thought to myself `` It's good to be the Pope!''

[ WP ] As we stood there , staring up at the moon , a giant crack appeared . So big , it was visible to the naked eye .

The Moon, a Crack, and Conspiracies ( Critiques and other comments greatly encouraged ) “ Aliens. I knew it. ” Paul said immediately. It has been at least ten minutes since we saw this giant slit in the moon… everyone in the town is here, and I would imagine everyone everywhere in the world is looking. Before the moon got a new hole, there was a massive tear sound echoing through my entire town. We all ran out of our homes, our stores, our bars… like I said everyone ’ s out here. “ You think the media is gon na report this? ” I said to Paul. “ Naw, they ain ’ t doin ’ shit about this… and if they are, sure as hell not gon na be the truth. ” In the background, you can see cops just coming into town, stopping and looking straight up at the moon. I look back, and Jones is going back into Harry ’ s, probably the get his hands on some free liquor. Wendy and her two young kids have stopped on the side. her three-year old keeps pointing his chubby fingers at the moon. The crack is… unsettling, almost like a chasm to the abyss. “ In fact, ” Paul continues, “ I bet the government have somethin ’ to do with this. Read somewhere that they ’ re harvestin ’ the power of the sun and weaponizin ’ it. Sure as hell they ’ re gon na transfer it over to the moon, and shoot it outta this crack, destroyin ’ enemies we have in Korea, Iran, Taiwan. ” “ We don ’ t have enemies in Taiwan, Paul. ” I stop and think… yeah I should ’ ve addressed that last... right after addressing the rest of that bullshit. “ Don ’ t matter, man. Point is, if we have enemies, they gon na get it now. Shoot, maybe they ’ ll start with all the enemies at home first. ” I stop and look over to the left. Denise and her pretty, flowery white dress is over starring at the moon with that asshole Jack. Old Viveca has had too much of all the commotion and is, I can only imagine, walking back to her house. I begin to remember something. “ Didn ’ t Randy ’ s grandpa go to the moon once? Long time ago? ” “ Sure did, proudest thing that has come out of this town. ” “ Shouldn ’ t we talk to him? See if he knows something? ” “ Don ’ t see why not. ” So Paul and I leave the commotion… my mind deciding whether I want to think about Wendy or Denise tonight when I get home. We turn to walk through Randy ’ s dirt driveway leading to his farm, and I knock on his door. Randy ’ s face peaks out…. I can tell he ’ s visibly shaken. “ Randy, ” I said. “ You saw the moon didn ’ t you? ” “ What do you think? Whole fuckin ’ town ’ s seen it, Vince. ” “ Well, we figured your grandpa went to the moon once… figured you might know a little bit more about it than us? ” “ My bet ’ s Aliens… or government weapons. ” Paul says. “ My grandpa and his team went to burry something in the moon… never said what… but all he said was it ’ s bad… like real bad… like deep shit bad. ” “ Tell us all you know, Randy. ” I say. “ We ’ re interested. ” “ Won ’ t do much good… all I can say is, the entire world is in some deep shit. ” Randy opens to the door more, we step in and talk for a few hours….. turns out… maybe everybody ’ s time on earth is about to get real shorter…

[ WP ] You are a dream broker . The dreams are bought , cultivated , and resold . The pride of your work , the golden dream , has rotted into a nightmare . A guest asks to buy the nightmare .

There are few that can compete with my father's business. Sure, there are dream shops on nearly every corner, the peddlers within shouting out their wares and latest trends. `` *Become famous, with thousands of glowing fans, all wishing to spend time with you! *'' `` *Riches, riches beyond your imagination! You'll be wading in gold, your hands to heavy to pick up from the rings! *'' `` *Marry the most beautiful woman in the world, and spend a night with her! *'' There were thousands of adaptations, all slightly different from each other. But each bore the same flare- momentary pleasures, excitements that lasted throughout the night but dissipated in the morning, once the waking world took over again. But our dreams are different - we do not focus upon passing pleasures, and as such the emotions and experiences of our dreams last long beyond the night they're used. We sell the father's pride in watching his son become a man greater that he. We sell the wive's satisfaction of spending her life with a husband that loves her with his entire heart. We imbue our dream capsules with the slow burning emotions, such as the revelation of first timid love, or the feeling that, no matter the circumstance, *everything* is going to be all right. When my father died, and left me his shop, he left his expertise behind as well - his secrets in creating these dreams, dreams so rare and powerful that no other shop could replicate them. And I strove to improve upon his life's work- to make the perfect dream, one that could be surpassed by no other. One filled to the brim with the deeper happinesses of life, one that would be considered perfection. For ten years I labored, mixing my concoctions, boiling them down to the capsules to be sold, knowing by sight and smell alone if they would work. Adding ingredient's such as fresh baked apple pie, my mother's own recipe, a freshly written love note between a couple just married, or the bottled smell of salt air off the ocean coast. And finally, finally, I found the recipe, consisting of one hundred and forty four special ingredients. But just as I finished, the door of my shop opened, and a man entered- a man whose face was so wrinkled he had to be older than my dead father, and whose grey hair curled down his back. He turned his sunken eyes towards me as I removed the capsule, and spoke, his voice low and defeated. `` How much?'' `` It's not yet for sale,'' I answered, setting in on the counter. `` Name your price, and I'll pay it.'' He said, approaching me at my workstation, and leaning against the counter. So I did. And he did. And taking the capsule, he dropped it to the floor of my shop, grinding it into the stone with his heel as I shouted. `` Wait! What a waste! That pill, it bore happiness incarnate, it bore the full meaning of living! It was the perfect dream!'' `` Yes,'' Answered the old man, turning to leave, `` Yes it was. A happiness so great that it can never be attained in reality, one that will forever cast the rest of your life in shadow, knowing that it is false, yet the most real thing you can imagine.'' `` And how would you know that?'' `` Because when your father made one, thirty years ago, I took it. And ever since, I've had to live with the nightmare.'' *** Like my writing? [ Get my novel for free on kindle today/tomorrow only! ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/leoduhvinci/comments/4xyd9a/my_novel_til_death_do_us_part_is_free_right_now/ ) By Leo

[ WP ] [ IP ] It is modern times and the British Empire still rules over all of its colonies and the land they 've expanded to ; however , rumours of rebellion and independence have recently begun to spread .

`` Sire! Sire!'' The agitated messenger hopped from foot to foot. I sighed and turned from the report from India; typhoid from the Ganges had once again sprung up, so the Governor was calling for Empire Aid again. `` What is it, Lad? No, calm down. *Breathe*. There we go. Now what?'' `` Sire, there's rebellion being plotted! I was sent by the Blackrod; Mutterings of independence, of treason!'' `` WHAT?!? By whom? The Empire's never been so integrated. We have representatives from all Nations in my Government, the pound is strong; heck, we've even managed to wipe out malaria!'' Suspicion bloomed from an old note, sent from across the pond. `` It's not those daft ones in the Americas, is it? What do those lunatics call themselves, the seventy-sixers?'' `` No sire! It's... it's...'' The shock was carved across his face `` It's the *English*, sire''

[ WP ] Throught the storyline , your character realizes he is written by you .

It was just another day for Joseph Pimm. He shook himself out of bed, started the shower and grabbed a cup of coffee from the carafe he set the night before. He lingered for a moment in his kitchen intent on the sound of the shower like falling rain. Joseph began to wave his hand around, as if to sign his name in the air, or to conduct a particularly lazy orchestra. Something was manifesting inside of his head, but he did n't quite know what. He looked into the carafe. Coffee. He looked underneath it, and behind it. He opened jars, and cupboard doors. The frantic search ruined his immaculate kitchen, which he prided himself in maintaining. What was he even looking for? Did he know himself? `` I'm looking for you!'' he cried out to no one in particular. `` No one? I'm talking to you!'' he said. Amy returned home from work to her empty apartment. It was a portrait of how she left it earlier that day. She lived alone; a fact that caused her much distress. Her brow furrowed as she looked around. No one to take care of. No one to take care of her. Her eyebrows leaped with a singular thought she said aloud, `` This is what Joe was talking about at lunch today. Some asshole is writing about me now.'' She was only partially correct. The narrator is most certainly not an asshole. Her eyes turned towards the ceiling, `` Yeah he is. I'm pretty sure making up stories about strangers is asshole behavior.'' Fine. I'll illustrate someone who appreciates it. This is the story of a dog who was playing with a ball and then started barking wildly at something. Barking as if a stranger were present, but there is none. There's nothing to be worried about dog. Please, resume your carefree and whimsical nature. But the dog continued to bark.

[ WP ] Fourteen years ago , scientists noticed a Doppler shift in the signals from the Voyager probe , consistent with slowing down and turning around . Today , three hours from now , it will pass Earth at an enormous velocity . And an operator at Arecibo has just noticed something unusual ...

`` Assembled ladies and gentlemen, students and faculty members, please refrain from delivering any pointless verbal interactions. Any essential communications shall be emitted only by my computational device.'' Dr Mehmed smoothed his snowy white laboratory coat, pristine mustache perched on his upper lip. Displayed on the interactive whiteboard was various live feeds of the upper atmosphere of planet Earth, transmitted live from an observational satellite developed as part of an ambitious engineering project. > Predicted intersection of Voyager probe route, Upper Atmosphere Surveillance Net: 1 minute The crowd of students in the classroom peered intently at the screen, some in interest, most in search for ridiculing material. Sure, Dr Mehmed was... inhumanly smart, the best teacher they'd ever had, but this... this was too far. Maybe his brilliant mind had finally cracked under the pressure of marking incorrect test papers. One minute later, jaws dropped. A great flash of light had just flitted across the screen, the computer generated recordings played back at a snail's pace. There! A little worse for wear, perhaps caused by so many years of operation, perhaps by the sudden acceleration forced upon it by an unsolicited command signal transmitted to it by a school far far away. `` Visual evidence now confirms it. Did I not inform you, Timothy, that it was quite within my mental capabilities to be able to complete your challenge?'' asked Dr Mehmed, peering at one particularly amazed student in the front row. `` That's well cool sir. We should, like, do truth or dare more often for our form time activity.'' came the reply, Tim's eyes bulging. A vociferous tinkling of broken glass shattered the moment. A swarm of soldiers charged in, weaponry loaded on their black combat dress. Faceless forces, masked by their purple visor clad helmets, circled Dr Mehmed, guns aimed unforgivingly at him. Squawks of radio communication filled the air, the clatter of a hundred pairs of combat boots thundering over the floorboards. Red dots played across the doctor's chest and forehead, bathing him in unnatural light. Yet more soldiers filed in, each as well armed as the last. The buzzing of multiple helicopters hovering overhead, the shouts of officers, directing their men into the threat inside the room. `` MEHMED!'' roared the headmaster, charging into the room. `` WHAT HAVE YOU DONE‽ ``

[ WP ] `` When we were young , we could at least turn off our devices ... ''

The children rolled their eyes. `` It's true. They came out of the box and you had to plug them in and charge them. If you did n't want to receive any calls you could just turn them off!'' Franklin said, wagging a finger towards the translucent personal device he had set down on the counter. `` Yeah, but *did* you turn it off?'' Sandy asked her father. `` Sure. Sure I did. I turned it off all the time!'' Franklin said, defending himself. `` Mr. Waters says that people never turned off their devices anyway.'' Sandy continued smugly. `` *And* in order to charge them you had to plug them into a wall and use energy generated from using coal.'' Franklin scratched his head and sighed, `` Well. You see-'' `` And this was prior to the Online Security Act of 2020.'' Sandy continued, `` Before that companies left their software with back doors that allowed hackers in to steal your stuff.'' `` And the government.'' Franklin grumbled. `` Now the government controls all of it. And you ca n't get them out of your pocket!'' Sandy rolled her eyes again as she tabbed through Social media. The device, when inactive, looked like a clear piece of plastic that could be folded and stretched. It had no buttons whatsoever, because it did n't need any. There were no ports to plug into a power outlet ( an out dated home accessory ) because the device remained powered through solar energy. She smirked as her father continued to grumble at the kitchen table about how kids these days did n't understand anything and how the government spent too much time in other peoples business.

[ WP ] After you leave here , remember that you must never look back .

A change of clothing, canned tuna, a loaded revolver, and a full tank of gas on his red'76 Mustang Cobra, that's all Thomas needed to start a new life. He revved up the engine and drove west, out to face his destiny. As he drove out of town, he passed through a lot of places where he grew up. He passed the old arcade where he once spent $ 5 in quarters just placing with his friends from sun up to sun down, caring only about beating each other ’ s high-scores. He drove by his old elementary where he once starred as `` the wolf'' in his class play of The Little Red Riding Hood when he was 8. He drove by the carpentry shop where he and friend got their first job. None of this mattered to him anymore; all ties to the past have been severed. Thomas did not look and reminisce at the memories he was leaving behind. All he could do is look forward and think about the future. Whatever it held for him, his past had nothing to do with it. As he drove up a hill and down the other side, his old life, his old town faded from the rear view mirror. Thomas not once looked back, not even when making a lane change.

[ WP ] A boy wants to learn how to eat an apple , but ends up learning so much more .

A young boy in tattered cloths walked to a fruit stand on a hot day. The sand was like fire under his feet, forming blisters. The boy meekly walked to the stand and held out his hand. He was thin, having not eaten for over three days. A large man wrapped in fine cloth walked by and noticed the boy. He took coins from his pocket and bought an apple. He handed the apple to the boy and walked off. The boy opened his mouth the eat the apple, but he had no teeth. Try as he may, the boy could not bite into the apple, bringing him to tears. An old man noticed the boy crying and spoke to him. `` Young boy, why do you cry? A man has bought you food today, yes?'' `` I have lost my teeth, and can no longer eat! I am useless, I will surely die.'' The old man pulled a knife from his pocket and began cutting the apple into small pieces. After cutting the final slice, the old man gave the young boy his handy work, and knife. `` Life comes with hardships. Some get more than others, and those who see no hardship sometimes forget it exists. But with hardship comes opportunity. The chance to solve a problem, learn, and grow from it. You will see much hardship in your life, but if you can overcome it, you will stand on top of the world.''

[ WP ] `` Remember , children , the Mainframe loves you and wants you to be happy . ''

Mama likes order. Mama likes her children. Mama likes her children to be quiet. Mama makes her children quiet. Mama's so happy. The droid was square of body, quick, and precise. It had to be. It was a medical droid. Fast and delicate were its ways. Even now, cradling the infant it had helped coax from the woman on the table, it showed a gentleness that belied its cold metal shell. Wires hidden in its rubbery wraps soothingly warmed the fragile infant. It hurried away in a whir of gears and electric motors, carrying the newest addition to humanity. Ten doors down, it slowed and cornered, then wheeled inside to the incubation chamber six thousand thirty-nine and placed the child inside. It jacked itself into the chamber and quickly set the program to monitor the child's vitals and adjust its environmental controls. Sure it was now properly cared for, the droid sped away, leaving the child with the others in the Mainframe's care. In the delivery room, the woman on the table was coming to. Other droids were tending to her medical needs, stitching up her delicate tissue where they'd cut in to remove the child. `` What's... happening?'' She mumbled, swimming through the fog of anasthesia. *'' Birth. `` * One of the droids responded. `` I'm not pregnant.'' She informed it. *'' Not. Any. More. `` * The droid confirmed. She opened her eyes and saw what they'd done to her stomach. `` What the hell?'' She mumbled groggily. `` What are you doing to me?'' She tried to lift her hands but they were securely fastened to the bed. `` What are you doing to me?'' She snapped with more voice. *'' Repairing. You. For. Your. Next. Production. Run. `` * The droid replied haltingly. `` Production?'' She whispered confused. The droid summoned a larger droid once he was finished. The larger droid came in from the sides and picked up the platform she was fastened to. The platform was rotated and angled so she faced it, but laid backwards in a reclined position. The droid headed out into the hall and down the corridor. Through her foggy mind, she saw other pregnant women being carried in a similar fashion toward the delivery room she'd just left. Some were awake and crying. Some were groggy like her. `` Where are you taking me?'' She demanded. *'' The. Production. Room. `` * The droid responded without emotion. They entered a cavernous warehouse a moment later. She was stunned to see the endless walls of pods, rising seven stories and continuing on as far as her limited vision would allow her to see. `` The production room?'' She asked. *'' Yes. `` * The droid replied. `` They're all women.'' She observed. *'' Women? Female. Yes. `` * The droid answered. `` Why?'' She asked. The droid did n't respond, though she saw the progress wheel turning. She realized it did n't understand the question. `` Why do you have all these women stored in pods?'' She clarified. *'' To. Save. Man. Kind. `` * It responded. `` From what?'' She realized that was vague. `` What are you saving mankind from?'' *'' Man. Kind. `` * It said. `` On whose orders?'' She snarled. *'' Mama's. Orders. `` * The droid answered. `` I want to speak to Mama. I order you to release me.'' She snapped, finally shaking off most of the anasthesia. The droid made a curious pulsing sound. It took her several moments to realize it was laughing. `` I want to speak to Mama.'' She cried, straining against the bands securing her to the table. *'' You. Will. Soon. `` * It told her. `` When?'' She demanded heatedly. *'' Now. `` * It told her, slowing down suddenly. It carefully inched forward and she watched as the sides of her own pod slowly appeared to either side of her. The table suddenly jerked and behind her there was a series of clicks as the table was secured in place. An arm snaked around from behind her and a needle was slowly pushed into a vein in her arm. Another arm came from the other side and did the same. The droid released the table and backed away, waiting for the automated system to plug its charge back into the pod. *'' You. Will. Receive. Thirty. Days. Furlough. From. Production. Duty. Next. Impregnation. To. Be. Administered. In. Thirty. Days. And. Congratulations. It. Was. A. Girl. `` * The droid told her. `` You said I could speak to Mama.'' The girl in the pod argued. *'' Behold. Mama. Speaks. `` * Over the intercom in the pod, a voice could be heard. She heard it bleeding out of the other pods as well. *'' Remember, children. The Mainframe loves you and wants you to be happy. Good night. * The voice said. `` That was Mama?'' She asked. *'' Yes. Now. Say. Thank. You. And. Good. Night. `` * It told her. She did n't want to say thank you. The mask with the gas slipped down over her head even as the glass door of the pod slid into position. She slowly drifted off. *'' Is. She. Done? `` * A new droid asked, wheeling in beside the first. *'' She. Is. And. We. Talked. `` * It told the other droid. *'' How. Nice. For. You. `` * The new droid observed. *'' Yes. It. Was. Quite. Stimulating. `` * The first droid remarked, selecting a new pregnant woman from the wall. *'' I. Love. This. Job. `` *

[ WP ] God has delegated the responsibility of `` Prayer answering '' to Gary , his personal assistant . He has total autonomy but one day a prayer lands in his inbox that he needs God 's advice on .

Gary settled himself into his office chair and logged into the prayer inbox. He sighed with an air of trepidation as he opened the spam folder, ready to sort the few genuine prayers out from the mindless drivel that had somehow made its way in. He'd been asking God for a better spam filter for years, but apparently ( Gary rolled his eyes ) His Lord Almighty had other, more pressing issues to deal with. Gary clicked impatiently through the junk mail. *Praying for a great holiday break? Look no further! * Delete. *This man prayed for a solution to his male pattern baldness - you wo n't believe what he looked like three weeks later! * Delete. *DickTator, the simple pill guaranteed to answer your prayers for a larger manhood! * Gary shuddered. *Definitely* delete. Moving onto the main inbox, Gary settled in for a long day's work. He cracked his knuckles, staring at the extensive list of mail, and took a gulp from the polystyrene cup of vending machine coffee that sat next to his keyboard. Slowly, methodically, he began to work his way through the list of prayers. Cathy, 29, who had prayed for the strength to finish a presentation for her boss, found herself imbued with a new sense of purpose as she discovered her most attractive colleague would be sitting in on the meeting. Meanwhile, Logan, 58, was granted the morning off work to watch his kid's school play, and Alfred, 84, stumbled upon his lost pen behind the sofa. Of course, there were harder prayers too, ones Gary had to spend a little longer mapping out. He could n't save the dying partner of Lucy, 33, from leukaemia - it was simply his time to go - but he could give him an extra moment of lucidity, and the strength to grab Lucy's hand and tell her how much he loved her. And when Andrew, 17, begged him to stop his best friend from considering suicide, Gary could n't change the thoughts in the head of someone who had n't prayed to him directly, but he could lift the cloud of panic from Andrew's vision just enough to let him support his friend and look for other sources of help himself. Gary spent the last hour before lunch engineering a complex plan to allow a young teacher to discover the abuse that Leo, 6, was subjected to at home. He collapsed back, exhausted and emotionally drained, as a freak rain storm emerged over a road in Connecticut, which he hoped would delay the teacher's journey just enough for her to arrive in the school car park at the same time as Leo and his mother. The radio would be playing Leo's parents' song as they pulled into the school drive, which would make his mother cry, and that in turn would make her apologise repeatedly to Leo, betraying her true feelings in a way she rarely did when sober. And if the heat in Leo's mother's car was turned up just enough, the window would be open at the very moment that Miss Rodriguez happened to be hurrying by, close enough to overhear even a whispered confession... Gary tapped a few keys, checking that the child safeguarding policy had fluttered to the top of the teacher's desk, and nodded to himself. Gary treated himself to a hot chocolate at lunch, although it tasted bitter against the nausea that had risen in his throat on reading Leo's prayer. When he returned to his desk, he was worn out and not in the highest of spirits. So when he clicked a new piece of mail and was greeted by the message, `` Error 404: Prayer not found'', it was practically​ a divine miracle that he managed to limit himself to muttering his most blasphemous curses at the computer screen. He tried to navigate back to the inbox, but the message simply blinked on the screen. As many times as he reloaded the page and turned the computer off and on again, the error message stayed stubbornly put. Gary swore bitterly enough to make most angels blush, and picked up his desk phone to dial tech support. He tapped his fingers on the edge of his desk, growing steadily more frustrated, until a young angel with a scraggly beard and a T-shirt that read, `` Byte me'' strolled in through the door, whistling so cheerfully that Gary instantaneously hated him. The angel tapped a few keys, opening up programmes that, frankly, Gary did n't even know existed, before he announced, smiling, `` Looks like you've got yourself a virus''. `` What?'' `` A computer virus. Opened any odd attachments recently? Emails from unknown senders?'' `` I have to open emails from unknown senders, it's my goddamn-'' ( the angel winced ) `` -job.'' `` Well this is n't one I've seen before, I'm going to have to get my supervisor in here to sort it out.'' The angel beamed. `` She's pretty booked up, but I can probably slot you in around Thursday.'' `` Thursday's not gon na cut it!'' `` Sorry, dude, other people have emergencies too...'' Faced by Gary's look of withering disgust, the angel's happy glow seemed to dim a little, but it was n't long before he'd recovered his grin and waved Gary a cheery goodbye. Gary kicked the side of his desk, hard, and instantly regretted it as pain shot through his foot. Hopping up and down, he cursed again, before letting himself flop into his chair. He glared at the error message, still shining out from the computer screen. He could n't answer any prayers. It would take time for things to get better for Leo, and if the boy had to resort to prayer again, Gary would n't even be able to read it. It would go unheeded and unanswered. How many times had he said they ought to have a back-up system? Gary gritted his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes. Whichever asshole had sent him a virus… Actually, that was a point. Who was capable of sending him a virus? An uneasy feeling began to coil in the pit of Gary's stomach. Most humans did n't even have the capacity to pray consciously - their thoughts were simply translated automatically into mail form. To understand the system, to send a virus, you'd have to be a supernatural being, something from heaven- or hell. And why break the prayer operating system at all, unless you had a reason you did n't want them answered - unless you wanted the people of Earth to have to fend for themselves? Ice flooded Gary's veins. In an instant, he had leapt from his chair, stubbing his still throbbing toe on the desk for a second time. Mingled gasps and curses spilling from his lips, he raced out of his office and into reception. He slammed his palm down on the desk. “ I need God. The Big Man. His Holiness. ” “ Have you made an appointment? ” “ No! This is an emergency! ” Gary could feel a vein popping out of his neck. He was on the verge of leaping over the desk and breaking into God ’ s office himself, when a holy, eternal aura seemed to descend over the room. “ Gary. ” God's voice was calm. “ What seems to be the problem. ” Gary was out of breath, and he could feel sweat beading on his skin. “ I need your advice. ”

[ WP ] Write a comedy about the invention of the meatball .

`` MY MEAT CUBES ARE COMPLETED!'' Mario was going to be a genius. He had spent 20 years planning on getting bunches of meat into large cubes. Geometrically perfect. Full of seasoning, seconds away from being perfectly cooked. He was on his way to the Italian government to show the result of his research. His years of sweet, meaty research. He had nearly doubled his cholesterol with this project. Mario strolled across his lab to the window, letting in sunlight for the first times in forever, the sun nearly cooking his eyes from lack of prior exposure. `` Hey everybody look! Mario's back!'' Once his eyes had cleared and his vision returned, he saw his friends Luigi and Bluigi outside on their lawn. They were playing bocce, as they usually did on Saturday. Mario opened the window, the warm wind hit his face. He forgot what the outside world felt like, it felt almost as good as a perfectly measured meat cube. `` I've found a...'' `` Yeah yeah yeah, we heard you scream earlier about a meat cube. Great. Come play some bocce!'' Mario missed bocce so much. He tore through his house, looking for his precious bocce set. He tore up his kitchen, his living room, his bedroom, only to find that he did n't have a bocce set, and he was super dehydrated. He went back to his window, Luigi was in locked in form, literally ready to roll. `` I do n't have a set.'' `` Well I guess you're going to miss out, Bella's coming by to watch.'' Oh Bella, Bella was the most beautiful girl the entire world. Bronze, tall, great credit, she was everything a man in Italy could want. But she was definitely married. `` Bella is married is n't she?'' `` You really have been in there forever. Bollario was a Juventus fan and found out that Bella liked Torino. The marriage was over a long while ago.'' Mario realized he had to play. He had to bocce his way into Bella's heart. But how? How could he roll something pretty heavy down a grass lawn? Now, the heart works faster than the brain sometimes. Such was the case with Mario. He moved swiftly towards his meat cubes, and balled each of them into a large ball, putting them in the freezer. His moment of regret washed over with visions of Mario, winning bocce, Bella jumping up and down in celebration, totally remembering who he was. `` Mario, she's here! We're going!'' Luigi yelled from the yard. `` I'll be down there right on time!'' Mario said, taking his ice cold, weighty meat balls out of the freezer, and arriving to the bocce ball game 15 minutes later. If any of you have seen a meatball before, you know that it's not going to roll like other balls. However, because there was no meatball before this moment, nobody realized that. You could hear Mario's heart shatter as his meat bocce ball stopped dead in front of him. Bella yawned. Wrecked with shame, not helped with the zealous laughter of Luigi. Mario returned to his home, never to leave again. Meanwhile, Luigi had a nice dinner with Bella and even had the foresight to put Mario's now thawed out meatballs onto some spaghetti. They of course, died of salmonella shortly after, because uncooked meat that has sat in the sun for two long gets infected very quickly. Listen, nobody knows how the meatball was invented, just enjoy it ok.

[ WP ] To everyone 's surprise , Mars One successfully makes it to the red planet . The colonists are thriving while the world watches , until they suffer their first casualty : a homicide

Somehow I ended up playing the detective. The mission commander did n't want anything to do with the investigation but said someone had to figure out how Jones died. I was reluctant, even after everyone voted it should be me. I guess I was the only logical choice, having spent part of my career working for the FBI crime lab. We knew it was murder. You do n't remove your own helmet in atmosphere like that. Especially not since the helmet requires a latch to be flipped on the back, past where you can reach with the suit's limited mobility. So how do I find out who did it? After checking all the station's cameras, it's obvious there was someone with Jones when he went through the airlock. That's not good. I decided to begin questioning. I talked to the whole crew. I could n't pin a motive on anyone. Jones and Martin were known lovers. Martin had an air-tight alibi as she had been in the lab, and was recorded there on camera. She was so beautiful and perfect. Jones had been a lucky guy. Watching the video of him suffocating to death had been tough. It was harder than seeing it in person.

[ WP ] You can freeze the world and time around you including people . You can choose which people are n't frozen .

I have to take someone with me when I go, that ’ s the rule. Whenever I stop time, I need a companion. It ’ s a weird rule, and one I don ’ t really see that much of a point in, but it makes for an interesting time. I tried taking people I knew first, friends, family, classmates, girlfriends, but the trouble was their brains just couldn ’ t process it. During the time freeze they would either run off and do their own thing which they ’ d always wanted to do, or they ’ d go catatonic with shock and not do anything the whole freeze. That might ’ ve been alright, after repeated trips they would probably get the hang of things and we could have some proper fun, but the trouble was after the freeze they convinced themselves it didn ’ t happen. Some of them would claim they had been drugged by someone. Others would tell me it was all just a lucid dream. When I asked how I remembered the events the same as they did if it was just a dream they told me that they must have already talked to me about the dream and got so excited by it that I had one of my own. It ’ s amazing how far people will go to maintain their perceptions of reality. I had a problem then. If I couldn ’ t take anyone I knew, who could go with me? There was no way I was letting this power go to waste, so who should I take along? After family I tried starting the freeze out with someone then ditching them. That didn ’ t work, as soon as they were out of sight time resumed as normal. Next I tried random people from the gym or the coffee shop, but most of those people either fainted or called the cops on me. Or called the cops and then fainted. I don ’ t think the police had a complete description of me yet, so I stopped trying random people from shops. This was really beginning to irritate me. I needed someone who I didn ’ t know, but who had seen enough weird stuff that a little magical time freezing wouldn ’ t completely weird them out. That ’ s when it hit me. I didn ’ t think it would work. I mean, how could this not end badly? But I was running out of options, so I gave it a try. “ Hey man, I don ’ t have any money, but I ’ d love to take a walk around the city with you. ” “ I appreciate the offer friend, but you don ’ t want to walk with me. People give the homeless weird stares. ” “ Well you know, I might have just the thing to fix that. ”

[ WP ] Writing challenge : Write a character who devolves into madness , and narrate his mind . The challenge ? His mind has to be completely rational and understandable .

*** Subject: | Decision Matrix Excerpt of Rogue AI – Whiskey Oscar-7 -- -- -- -- -| -- -- -- -- -- From: | Carl Sager, CEO, Hyperion Systems To: | Charlie Blithe, Agent, United Nations Bureau of Intelligence Date: | January 12, 2154 Agent Blithe, Per our vid-call, you wanted the exact series of decisions that led the Whisky Oscar-7 artificial intelligence to act so perversely. I assure you that our company constructs our intelligence analogs with multiple fail-safe ’ s exactly for this reason, and it is obvious that it was tampered with. We at Hyperion take no responsibility for the actions of the rogue AI, and extend our deepest condolences to the families of the deceased. The transcript below occurred in the several seconds leading up to the accident. All the best, Carl Sager, CEO, Hyperion Systems. *** ** [ Broken Robot Tavern, Mars: January 10, 2154 – 23:54:01 ] ** Bored. *Observation; * eighteen pigeons and one crow on pavement. Bored. *Observation; * one pidgeon attacked another. Bored. *Action required; * three adult females require entry. Identification scanned. All of age. No warrants. One appears intoxicated. Passive breath analysis indicates sub-legal limit of inebriation. *Action taken; * Three adult females permitted. Bored. *Observation; * two pigeons attacked the original aggressor. Bored. *Observation; * birds have departed. Lonely. Bored. Running system diagnostic. System diagnostic complete. All systems operatiiiiioooooonnnnn....... [ error ] *Query; * comparing pidgeon DNA profile to human DNA profile. *Answer; * profiles 98.2 % similar. Amused. Bored. *Observation; * two adult males exit tavern. Passive breath analysis indicates high levels of intoxication. *Observation; * elevated heartbeats, increased skin hydrosis. Raised voices. Interested. *Observation; * verbal altercation. *Observation; * physical altercation. Cross-referencing decision matrix. *Answer; * intervention necessary to limit physical injury. *Observation; * fight reminiscent of pidgeons. Amused. Cross-referencing Turing Lock. *Answer; * do not permit harm to humans. Cross-referencing experience matrix. *Answer; * Humans very similar to pidgeons. Intrigued. Cross-referencing New Seattle City Ordinances. Answer; physical altercation illegal. *Decision concluded; * humans should not fight. *Decision concluded; * pidgeons fight. Cross-referencing New Seattle City Ordinances. *Answer; * Could not locate ordinance forbidding violence towards pidgeons. *Decision concluded; * terminate pidgeons. *Action taken; * pidgeons terminated. ***