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[ WP ] Stuck

`` Well, fag, any ideas?'' Fyodor scoffed at the name picking, glaring at the pale blond though the eye that was n't covered by a patch of hair. The pair had decided to take a trip by the Siberian tundra, trying to investigate some late happenings as told and rumored by the people in the area. Naturally - according to the own Alexandr - Fyodor could n't go on his own because he would probably be eaten by a bear or mauled by dressing like a girl. *Literately* dressing like a girl. `` If it's not the bear, your town fold would go out and kill you in any case.'' `` That's not funny, you asshole!'' Young and *feminine* as Fyodor was, Alexandr had to admit the young man was strong and resilient. Despite his petite frame and lack of any visible muscles, he was able to wield a large lumber axe with great ease. However, that would be useless in the area both had fallen after one of his mistakes: a dark and deep cave with little to no illumination. Any light that could come in was from the exact hole they fell from, and it was already past nine in the night. Pulling a small flashlight out of the many pockets inside his coat, Alexandr pointed it at the red haired Fyodor, who was sitting down with his legs crossed and pouting. The frills on the dress he was wearing were badly torn off by the rocks. `` Will you ever stop calling me like that?'' He barked. `` I was trained to tell the truth.'' Alexandr replied bluntly. `` You are a dick, did you know that?'' `` That still makes you a fag.'' The annoyed young man stood up, arms on his hips. `` I'll have you know *Sasha*,'' his spite was leaking all over his name. `` that I am not. Just because I like and wear dresses does not make me not only a target for your blatant bigotry and misunderstanding, but I have specifically told you that I am *not* gay.'' Alexander gave him a look of disbelief, raising an eyebrow. `` What?!'' Fyodor spat. `` What?! Do n't give me that look, you arse! What's with that, eh? I do n't see any girl wearing a pair of pants being called a dyke!'' `` Have you *looked* yourself at the mirror lately?'' `` Why, I did before going out with you. I always do. This *used* to be one of my best outfits but I never knew we'd be going into the middle of nowhere, had to run for our lives because we have the FSB behind our ba-'' `` It's still the KGB.'' Alexander remarked with the same bluntness as before. `` What *ever* they are, if that makes you happy. We are running from these idiots and now we are stuck here. *I* am stuck with you here. Of all the worst possible outcomes, it had to be getting stuck with an idiot, ex-Soviet spy macho who has a kink for guns!'' The cave's walls lit up briefly, a loud'bang' echoing around. A yelp of pain came from the red hair as his shoulder felt on fire, suddenly feeling how his own blood trickled down. He whined, glaring at the blond who had not yet hidden the culprit weapon. His face was finally displaying some emotion other than'bored blank', though annoyance was n't new on him either. `` YOU ASSHOLE! IDIOT! IMBECILE!'' `` Quiet, they might hear us.'' Alexandr stared at him, taking out the magazine from his hand gun. `` And you would think they could n't have HEARD THAT FUCKING GUNSHOT, YOU FUCKING MORON?! WHAT WAS TH-'' There was a small hint of amusement on the soldier holding the flashlight, even thought he was not particularly happy to know he had used his final round to quiet the'idiot'. `` I told you, you're a fag. A real Russian would have taken that without whining.'' `` Says the former German with a fetish for guns.'' Fyodor barked. `` Please, do n't confuse me with Ludwig. Unlike him, I'm straight...''

[ WP ] Last night , you were bitten by a werewolf . You have 30 days before you too go on a mindless killing spree .

I sat in the dank wooden cabin hidden in the foliage of the dark oak forest. I had n't been here in a while, not since the time I lost Helena. The tools had begun to rust and the rotting wooden roof had started to fall in on itself. The chair creaked on the makeshift floorboards as I rocked back and forth, contemplating what would happen over the next 30 days. I could n't believe what had happened but every time I looked at my wrist I was reminded of the horror I would become. The raw flesh and gnarled bone easily visible although it did not hurt one bit. I sighed, being a werewolf hunter was hard work. Now I had become the thing I pledged to murder for the sake of the city. Once the full moon shone I would n't be able to stop myself from turning, and I would kill everyone. Even those I loved. Alas, I still needed to do my job, after all I was a werewolf hunter. I held the sleek revolver my dad had given me before he passed away and I slipped my final silver bullet into the chamber. The hammer clicked as I pulled it back into place. God, did I really have to do this? I raised the gun and placed it between my eyes, closing them as I pulled the trigger. My dad had always said I would be good at my job.

[ WP ] Every sentient species in the universe receives a Jesus figure from God . It turns out humanity was the only species to torture and crucify him . You 're an ambassador priest informing the Inter-Galactic Holy Church what your species did .

`` No, see, that's the point.'' The deacon shifted on his stool. `` I'm sorry, Reverend?'' `` Under Christianity, we celebrate his sacrifice!'' He was becoming uncomfortable. I assumed. His bright orange eyes shifted underneath the mass of vinelike tentacles, focusing on my face, my left hand, the clock on the wall. `` But...'' he paused, the buzzing of his translator, the only sound in the room. I leaned forward, checking if the boxy machine hanging around his neck ( or, maybe trunk? ) had malfunctioned. `` Why did you kill him, then?'' he asked, slowly. `` That was n't us, per se. That was Pontius Pilate who ordered his death, specifically.'' `` I'll talk to him, then.'' `` Good luck. He's been dead for quite a while.'' The deacon buzzed, the mass of limbs forming his body shaking and rubbing against each other. `` Someone will need to be held responsible!'' `` And what would that entail?'' I ventured, keeping the interest out of my voice. Hell if I was gon na show him my hand. `` The subject will be sent to the penitential zone.'' `` How long are we looking at?'' `` Long enough.'' I've always wondered what being martyred would be like.

[ WP ] You are the janitor that has to clean up after Mortal Kombat fights .

Mike swept a mop across the pool of blood, sighing. “ Looks like Milena went a little overboard today, didn ’ t she? ” Mary chuckled, polishing the armor on the stands. She always liked rubbing her luck in Mike ’ s face. *Why did she get the easy job? * “ You ’ re telling me, ” Mike said, gesturing towards the pile of body parts in the corner. “ She could at least take the body parts she chewed on with her and save me the trouble. But no, she ’ s too busy with her modeling career to deal with us plebs. ” “ Are you surprised? At least she isn ’ t like Reptile. The last guy with your job stepped in his acid one day. Lost his entire foot and didn ’ t even get compensated for it. ” Mike shook his head. *Damn Shao Kahn. The man works us to the bone – literally, in some cases. At least he pays well*. “ I heard tomorrow is going to be a real doozy, ” Mary continued. “ Scorpion vs. Sub Zero. I wonder who will win. ” “ Let ’ s be honest, it ’ ll be Scorpion. Every match is always rigged in his favor. ” Mary put her hands on her hips, smirking. “ Someone sounds a little upset that they lost the bet last week. ” “ I ’ m not, ” Mike scowled, shaking his head. He lied. “ It ’ s just that he ’ s not that impressive. All he does is burn stuff and throw that damn kunai of his. God, I hate smelling burnt flesh after cleaning up after him. As far as I ’ m concerned, he could die like the rest of his race. ” Mary ’ s face went white, as if she saw a ghost. She held on her duster tighter, her knuckles turning as pale as her face. Mike furrowed his brow in response. “ What ’ s wrong with you? ” “ You probably shouldn ’ t say that about him, ” Mary started. “ It may be bad for you. ” “ What the hell? I am a grown man and will say what I think. Scorpion, in my opinion, is a – ” Mike ’ s words were cut short, an explosion of pain running through his chest. His thoughts were scrambled, a sea of confusion. All that he could register were Mary ’ s hands covering her mouth as she watched in horror. He looked down, finding the all-too-familiar kunai sprouting from between his ribs. He heard the clink of the chain as it went taut. Before he could scream out, he flew back and heard the words of his nightmares. “ Get over here! ”

[ WP ] You 're a human scientist living on the moon . One day , while out in your spacesuit , you notice a small human child playing in the dirt . She 's not wearing a spacesuit , but she 's breathing just fine .

It has been 2 years, 3 months and 7 days since I have arrived at Moon Base Alpha. I am here as part of a 3-year mission, exploring the moon and preparing for the first real human colony on the moon. My job here is to scout out possible locations for the colony. I go out with my rover and I travel for days on end, even though all the locations have already been charted by orbital photography. But still, it is a good job, and I love the fact that I am one of the few men who have set foot on this moon. Today I am doing final checks of the selected location for the colony. I sat in my rover on autopilot for 25 hours, but finally, I arrived. I step out of the rover and I begin setting up my equipment. All seems well, I had some troubles in the rover on the way here, an error message popped up, quoting an unidentified error with some of my equipment, but it disappeared quickly and I have not bothered with it since, I will check on it after I return to base, for now, everything works. I deploy the scanner probes which quickly engage their engines and begin rushing above the landscape, scanning all in their path. I set the dirt analysers to work and I look towards the valley and imagine the colony that will arise here, with machines working and building, humans supervising, the young flying around and playing new sports, perhaps they will play a sort of quidditch with jetpacks. Jetpacks are impractical on earth, but here, with the low gravity, they are quite useful, and also quite fun. But then I see a sight I can not believe. A young girl, could not be more than eight, and her dog, a black labrador, playing in the dirt next to the river. I try to snap back to reality thinking I must have fallen asleep, but I am not asleep, I am not dreaming this. I see the girl playing in the green valley with her dog, no oxygen suits, nothing. How could this be, this valley that is before me is supposed to be barren moon rock, and I know just moments ago it was. Then how come I am seeing this wonderfull earth-like scenery. Now there is even a sky, it is reddish but there are clouds, how can there be clouds on the moon, how can there be wind blowing them in directions, how can this place exist. It is a dream but I know I am awake. But I feel tired, I must sit. Perhaps the shock of this event has worn me out, perhaps I will just close my eyes for a minute. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Day 825 of our mission at Moon Base Alpha. I have been sent to check on our location scout. He left base a few days ago to do final checks on the selected colony location but after arriving at the location he has failed to check in, and when we contacted his rover, it did not respond except the automatic verification of receiving our transmission. I have arrived at the location, there are machines still at work because they were never stopped, and the location scout is sitting on a box. His oxygen supply seems to have failed, at least it seems he died with a smile on his face, over what I can only imagine.

[ WP ] Two dads get into a dad-off .

*January first, shoveling snow outside their small sub-urban homes. * `` How're you doing?'' said Greg. `` I'm good,'' said Phil. `` Hi good,'' said Greg with a grin. `` I'm Dad.'' `` Oh, is that what we're doing?'' Phil asked, smirking. `` Sorry, I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice. I have n't done it all year.'' Greg walked over to Phil and rubbed his coat. `` What material is this? It's not felt, is it?'' `` No, it's wool.'' `` Well, it's felt now!'' Phil cracked his knuckles. Time to pull out the big guns. `` What's the difference between a piano, a tuna, and a pot of glue?'' `` What?'' `` You can tuna piano...'' Greg chuckled. `` Wait. Where does the pot of glue come in?'' Phil thrust a victorious fist into the air. `` I knew you'd get stuck there!'' -- -- -- It's not that I'm ungrateful, but did this really deserve to be gilded? Eh. If this is getting popular I might as well take the opportunity to promote [ my serial ] ( https: //bookofthemountainking.wordpress.com/tft/ ) about a young superhero. It's not as silly as this, but it's longer!

[ MP ] Newbop by Caravan Palace .

August 19th, 2275. Another beautiful day in Aurora, Mars. I checked to make sure that my cruiser was locked, and started making my way to the bar. Or at least a source of alcohol. Mining was tiring, and nothing relaxed the muscles more than good ol' earth-brewed lager. `` Mornin', Jeff.'' I turned to face the owner of the voice, Jack Duster. `` Mornin', Dusty. How's life?'' `` Not much, got off of'troll a while back.'' `` How's the border?'' `` Alright, the bugs are getting anxious again, but it did n't seem like there was too much to it.'' `` The bugs usually are right, are n't they?'' `` I did n't see any storm comin', so I think we're fine.'' `` If you say so.'' I moved past him, and entered Tyler's, the finest alcohol-dealing establishment this side of the god damn morgue. But hey, it's cheap, who am I to complain? Pushing open the doors, I made my way to the bar, swinging a leg over one of the stools, tapping the table with my knuckles twice. Tyler made his appearance in front of me, customary cigar, towel, and overly-cleaned glass at the ready. `` Usual?'' `` Thanks.'' I looked back out among the visitors today. Miners,'Trolls, and other varieties of Mars low-life. The Future, indeed. Tyler put down a heavily watered beer down in front of me, and I passed him a coin. While they were n't officially money, according to the Credit and Finance Union, very few people actually could get an account, whereas coins could be found here and there by even kids. So, Mars made do, just as it usually did. `` You heard about Marc?'' `` What happened?'' `` Disappeared while on'troll. That's two in the last week. I think that there are still some rebels out there.'' I chuckled, `` the'rebels' are little more than animals now, Ty. Shit, even if they managed to get Marc and Tony, what the fuck are they going to do with them?'Recruit' them? Why? The E-generators do n't work outside of Aurora or any of the other cities.'' `` Well, still, something happened to them.'' `` They'll be fine. They're big boys, they've got the tools they need.'' I gulped down the beer, glad for the relief of the ache in my arms, and made my way back outside again. Jack nodded to me, and I nodded back as I made my way over to the cruiser. *I like the music, and the story. I'll see if I can continue it.

[ WP ] Time and time again , you failed . Today , you succeeded .

No pain, no gain. That's what they say, and I say they are right. Today is my first day at the hospital. Normally someone in my position would be quite upset at the circumstances, but today is special. I have finally proven my friends, family, enemies, and everyone in between wrong. The pure ecstasy of it is almost enough to refuse the pain killers the nurse is trying to hand to me. `` Please take the pills sir, you said you were going to three minutes ago.'' Nurse Brady instructs with a vigorous shake of the small paper cup. `` Sorry ma'am I was just basking in my glory.'' I answer with a smile. With my good arm I slowly reach over and carefully take the cup from her hand. I bring the cup to my face as I try not to move my fractured spine. The nurse helps me drink the other cup of water after I take the pills. No sooner had I finished the refreshing liquid, another nurse opens my door and lets in a visitor. My friend looks at me awestruck. I do n't blame him, he were there and witnessed my triumph first hand. `` I still ca n't believe it. Was it worth it? You look pretty banged up.'' John asked as he surveyed my glorious visage. `` Worth every moment. Have you seen any reporters yet? Have people hounded you for my autograph?'' I ask him. `` Um, no. I called your parents and they...'' `` Oh silly me. There obviously has n't been enough time yet for the news to go out. I'm sure they will be clamoring for an interview once they learn of my feat.'' ``... yeah. Anyway you parents are on the way over and...'' `` I bet they must be so proud! Their son has done what no person had done before.'' `` Oliver I swear to god...'' `` And the fortune that will follow! I can imagine all the people who will throw money at me, just to be seen with me. I bet it will be in twenty dollar bills. Specifically one twenty dollar bill at a time!'' `` Oh please give it rest Oliver!'' John rudely interrupts. `` I'm sorry my friend. I'm just boasting to cover this emptiness inside. It seems like even with my great accomplishment, I'm not getting what I deserve. If only there were some way to fill this twenty dollar hole in my heart.'' `` For the love of god fine. A bet is a bet I guess.'' John sighs. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. With great reluctance he fishes out the twenty dollars I so rightfully earned. The money is great, but it is nothing next to the fame I will receive. You see I've done what no one has done before. I have licked my elbow.

[ WP ] On your way to Mars on the first voyage ever , you discover that you and the countless others on the ship are intended ritual sacrifices by Elon Musk . You now must avoid reaching Mars at all costs .

I hid under the tiny bed of my room, terrified. I covered my mouth, trying to muffle my heavy breathing. I heard its footsteps in the distance, dragging it's feet as it walked. I heard it sniff the air, grunting, as it caught on to a scent. It started walking in a different direction, before suddenly breaking out into a sprint. I gasped instinctively, before realizing it was moving away from me. I lay there, in complete darkness, filled with fear. It had broken the main generators, and the backups only provided power to the main hallways. In the distance, I heard a faint scream, which was soon replaced by a deafening silence. I slowly moved out from under my bed. My hands were trembling, tears blurring my vision. I stepped out of my room, into the crew quarters. Light from a distant hallway dimly illuminated the passageway. I started walking forward, unsure of where to go. I felt dizzy, and it hurt to think. Then, in the distance I saw a man, darkened by the shadows cast on him. He walked in a very strange manner, almost as if he were limping, but it seemed incredibly unnatural. I was about to call out to him, when I felt a hand cover my mouth. `` Are you trying to fucking kill us?'' -- -- - I sat in the room of Father John. I'd seen him a couple of times before, in his black robes. A priest, recommended by The Pope himself. I nervously fidgeted with my fingers as the Father drew some kind of symbol on the wall. The entire room was covered with symbols like the one he was drawing. Scribbles of Latin often accompanied them. The man was either insane, or knew exactly what he was doing. `` What is that out there?'' I asked timidly. `` It's a demon.'' He answered nonchalantly, as he continued to draw. `` A demon?'' I scoffed. I was a man of science, not faith. Science had gotten us to the Moon, and soon Mars. Not faith. `` They do n't exist.'' I continued. `` You can tell it that when you see it.'' He replied. `` We're the sacrificial lambs Musk has offered this creature. It's going to pick us apart, one by one. There is n't going to be anyone left to step on to Mars, when we finally reach.'' He said coldly. It was so easy to dismiss what John was saying, yet I believed him. `` Is there anything we can do?'' I asked, as the possibility of death suddenly seemed imminent. `` We can fly back home.'' -- -- - Hope you liked it OP. Not exactly what the prompt asked for, but hope it was n't too bad. Would you like a part 2? Would love for your feedback. Super cool prompt by the way. Enjoyed my writing? I'm actually writing a small series on /r/fallenwings and would love for you to check it out!

[ WP ] The zombie apocalypse has broken out in the suburbs of New York City . As it so happens , today also happens to be National Purge Day .

The siren, a grim reminder that the annual purge is happening. A time where you can act on every evil impulse for one whole day. How the government allows it still baffles me. Every year the bodies pile up, yet the next day we walk past people smiling. Not knowing if they are in fact the ones that and partied. Yet the purge is the furthest thing from my mind. The thing that happening right in front of me. A person who lives in the same apartment complex, I think his name is David or Dave I'm not entirely sure. Well Dave is currently being used as a chew toy by two people. Jesus I heard of cannibals out on purge but to see it on my front door step. Luckily they are n't armed, me on the other hand. A Beretta, its smart to be armed on this `` special'' day. I raise my gun and point it at these monsters. They do n't seem to be aware of my presence just concentrating on poor Dave. `` Hey, you better get the hell out of here or else!'' They continued to gnaw on the poor bastard. Between this and the noise outside, I feel as if I should just lock myself in my apartment. I can hear gunshots and explosions already, thankfully it sounds far off. I shoot near one of them to try to scare them. That got their attention, yet something about them seems off. I do n't know what it's the way they move. That's when I got a look at their face, their faces seemed blank. And they look hurt, they were covered in blood but too much blood to be Dave's. They were slowly making their way towards me, my god they were growling. BAM Suddenly some bastard just kicks open his door. He's armed with a friggin shotgun. `` THIS IS MY RIGHT!!'' he screams as he shoots one of the two cannibals. I could tell he did n't put in hours at the range. He felt flat on his back as soon as he fired his first shot. Got to give it to him as he got one. Shot the poor bastards arm straight off. Yet he does n't even notice. Both of them jumped on him, guess they had room for desert. I could hear the sound of flesh being bitten off and his horrific screams. I grab all the courage I had and fired on one of the them. Four shots in the back but the bastard did n't even react. He gets up and stares right into my eyes. There's absolutely nothing there, I could sense his blood lust. He charges right at me. BANG BANG two in the chest. He's almost at arms length. I close my eyes. BANG. BANG I do n't even want to know what happened. I'm okay since no one pushed me on the ground. I open one eye to see my would be attacker on the ground. The last shot got him right in the head. I still trying to figure out how this guy can be moving so fast after being shot 6 times. It's not humanly possible. The other had his head completely blown off by Shotgun Guy. He's on the ground crying. I keep my gun trained on him. `` No sudden moves, are you participating?'' You ca n't trust people who play this sick game. He looks straight at me, no wait he's looking past me. His eyes are widening. I quickly to turn around to see Dave get up. There's no possible way he could. The injuries he have, the loss of blood, he should be dead. That's when I see it he has the same eyes of his killers. I back away slowly as he starts making his way towards me. Damn my stupidity because the I trip on the body I just put down. How stupid that I let this guy be the cause of my death. Now Dave charges at me with the same intent as the other guy. I ca n't even manage to bring my gun, I'm paralyzed with fear. BAM it happened so quick, Shotgun guy blasted Dave. Dave was barely standing, BAM. Dave was down, then Shotgun guy set his sights on me. He gave me a look. `` Well I'm really in bad shape here. Can you help me? I promise I wo n't hurt you'' I just nodded at him. Do n't know why I was helping him. I knew what he was going to do yet I did n't want to be alone right now. With the madness that just went on right now, I needed someone to talk to. I get up and slip my gun into my back. Its crazy with all the noise happening no one came rushing out to see what was going on or even help. You can thank the Purge for that. I carry Shotgun guy to his apartment. I kind of though we should go o my apartment instead since my apartment still has its door intact. Not the best thing to do when everyone is trying to kill you. I lay him on his sofa as carefully as possible. He tells me he has a first aid kid in the bathroom under the sink. I get it for him, apparently he has little medical experience. He begins patching himself up. `` So can you tell me what the fuck was that?'' `` I do n't know, your guest is as good as mine'' `` Were they eating Matt?'' `` Matt? Was that his name? I thought it was Dave...'' `` No it was Matt. He was going to come with me to... exercise our rights'' `` So you begin by kicking down your own door?'' `` Well I was excited, I did n't expect for two cannibals to treat me like their lunch?: `` Were they really cannibals though? I mean I never saw a person take that many bullets and still move as fast as they can'' We heard a scream, it sounded as though it came from above us. A more gunshots coming from somewhere in our building. Then we heard something that sent a shiver down my spine. A kind of scream, no a screech that echoed through the building. `` What the hell was that?'' `` I do n't know, but I think we should arm ourselves a little bit more'' `` I got this Beretta'' `` I think you should really arm yourself. check the backroom, pick anything you like'' I look at him, Shotgun guy seemed to be in bad shape. His breathing seems strained. He looked pale, I knew he got hurt but he did n't seem that bad. I got up and went to see what was in the backroom. It was a cabinet filled with arsenal. I looked at everything. I questioned if I really needed it. I could just lock myself in my apartment till the day ended. But something in my gut told me that this is somehow different. I grabbed the assault rifle and slung it around my back. Two MP5, and a Glock which I'm going to hide. `` Hey you done in there?'' I step out, he kind of looked stunned when I came out. I do n't think he expected me to have gotten so much gear. `` Do n't forget to put on body armor, all that shits no good if you just going to get shot'' `` Why are you helping me?'' ``.....if you did n't get that other guy off me..cough cough..I probably would have been eaten alive like Matt'' `` Thank you..uh'' `` It's Nathan'' `` Nathan, huh. Well you saved my life out there, you did n't need to do all this'' `` I do n't know why I did. I think as those monsters were munching on me....I... I was so afraid. *cough cough cough * his cough seems to be getting worse. I thought about what I was going to do tonight. I would have been like those monsters. People dying as they were afraid, seeing their own monster. I do n't want to die feeling like a monster'' `` It's okay you're not going to die. We going to wait this out'' `` I do n't think that's possible'' he shows me his hands, they were covered in blood. Not from the attack but from the cough. `` One thing I do n't get how Matt was able to get up. He was dead, no one `` COUGH COUGH COUGH `` Do n't try to speak, I wondered that too to be honest. His eyes were the same as theirs....blank'' We both looked at each other for a while, an eternity to be honest. Another screech and another. They seemed to be getting closer and closer. I run outside to see if the coast was clear. `` We should move this to my apartment, it has a metal door. It can hold up till the night ends'' SILENCE `` Nathan?'' Nathan dropped to the floor and started convulsing. I try to hold him down but he pushed me away. I could n't understand what was happening. Then he went silent. I call out his name, nothing. That's when I saw his finger twitch. He sat up quick. I call out his name again, but nothing. He was silent, then turned to look at me. That's when I saw his eyes, the same eyes as Matt, the same eyes as those cannibals. I pointed the rifle at him and told him to just stay still. SCREEEEEEEEEEECHHHH Nathan who I was just talking with a moment ago was trying to kill me. I opened fired at him, but it had the same effect last time. Nathan full of holes yet he did n't care. He just wanted to kill me. That's when I had a flash back of the first time. When I closed my eyes, I shot at the head and the cannibal went down. `` I'm sorry Nathan'' BAM. His brain was all over the wall and he was finally down. I could n't even process the thought of killing my savior before I heard more screams coming from the hall. I looked at Nathan one last time before I head out. I peeked around the corner to find a woman thrown from her apartment. Then some guy with a bloody machete. I was about to shoot this bastard, I do n't need this too. He kicked in the door to another apartment. And before I could get a clear shot, out came the resident of that apartment. An old lady who just jumped on him and took a bite out of his neck. The guy started screaming and hacking away at the old lady. I would've felt bad if I did n't know what he was doing. I was caught off guard when four people with the same look at him came. Probably a small gang enjoying their right. They all set their sights on the old lady. They blasted her to little bits, I do n't think they realize whats going on. A huge guy with a skull painted on his face kneed down to see how bad his companion is. He quickly got up and shot him. That's when I heard more screeching coming from behind me. I saw more of them a whole lot more. They heard the loud noise and decided this is probably where the food is. I decided not to interfere. I went back to the apartment and hid. I had a clear view of the door, and if someone tried to come in... well I do what I have to do. I saw a group of the monsters just run past charging at the skull gang. Shots were fired. I heard screams, screeches mixed together. I slowly move towards the door to see what was going on. I saw that two of them were already victims to those monsters. While the other two were trying to fend them off. They deserve this.

[ WP ] Retell the origin of a superhero , but reveal the hero at the end of the story .

He was beautiful. His pale skin seemed to be tightly stretched over the man's sharp cheekbones. The poor thing... He had so many problems. Such a tough past. He told me of his misfortune with his last job; of the men who took advantage of him and hurt his family. Of how he had been driven to his state. This beautiful creature, sitting right in front of me. His eyes glittered, set deep in his skull. He had been my client for months, you see. It started out platonic enough, but eventually, our love for each other blossomed. Each meeting with him was more and more exciting. Soon, I was completely enthralled by tales of him terrorizing the city. Those bastards deserved what was coming to them. They deserved to feel the pain and emptiness that he felt. He held an outstretched, white hand towards me. I bit my lip, gazing up at him and taking his hand in a weak, trembling grasp. `` I love you,'' I confessed to him. His ruby red lips stretched into an insane, sadistic grin- one that I had come to fetishize. `` I love you too, Harley.'' Note: I like villains better. Decided to go with that instead.

[ IP ] No one ever does .

Moments are carried in the things that do not last. Their nature is ephemeral as are the moments themselves. Hydraulics whir as it bends down to examine a twig. Its eyes reflect upon it. It thinks in the manner which it is capable of, it wonders if this thing will ever be pertinent to it, or if it merely another piece of trash that will not come about to any purpose. `` Are you alright?'' Another asks it. It thinks about its response. `` Yeah, just need a second to cool off. It's a hot day after all.'' This was true, waves of air bent the landscape behind the tarmac, turning the ground into the sky. `` Sure. It'd be a pity if you broke because of this. Remember Tom?'' `` Was n't Tom that heavy model? Where did it end up?'' `` Well he's off at the repair yard, one of his pumps blew because his oil got hot enough to melt his lines, Tom did n't take it terribly well.'' It paused for a moment. `` Well, what do you have there?'' `` Just a twig.'' It answered. It wondered what the other would think of it. `` A twig?'' `` Yeah.'' `` Where do you think it came from?'' `` I do n't know. I do n't know if that's all that important.'' `` Does the origin not reflect it's purpose?'' `` It's a twig, does it have a purpose beyond performing the structural duties a twig would perform?'' Silence hung for a moment. `` I suppose it might not, unlike us.'' `` We'd better get to that purpose then.'' It dropped the twig and returned to its duties. It did n't think of the twig again.

[ WP ] After a screw up occurs at the post office , Santa starts receiving damned souls while Satan is stuck with thousands of wish lists .

Satan sat scratching his head with his pitchfork. Nothing that has come to his evil domain in the past three weeks has made sense. `` What is this shit? TODD GET IN HERE NOW!'' A wicked looking creature came scuttling into the Devil's office and stood at attention. It's black, soulless eyes staring at the Master. `` Yes Lucifer, you need me again?'' `` I received another bundle of letters requesting more of these'iPhones' and other assorted merchandise. How are we coming along with the other requests?'' Todd, unblinkingly, looked toward the ground. `` Well my Lord, the'Kindle Fires' were at first easy enough but when we went to add the fire part all the mechanical bits melted away. We were going to leave the fire out of it but we have so much it seems silly not to incorporate it somehow. As for the perfumes and colognes we just started dipping them in the `` sweat, blood, and tears'' pool so I think those are going to be splendid!'' The Devil nodded and re-read another letter. `` What the fuck is a `` smart watch'' and why do so many people need one?'' `` I do n't have a clue Sire but if it can be made from brimstone and pain then it should be easy enough to make.'' `` See that it gets done Todd. Oh, before I forget. Did Margery get a hold of the USPS yet?'' `` Not yet Sir. Their hours are all messed up and when we do get through they complain of prank calls and hang up on us!'' `` I'll see them personally then.'' Satan said standing up and unfurling his massive black wings. `` If they do n't fix this soon there'll be Hell to pay!'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Santa sat at his desk, glasses in one hand while the other was rubbing the space between his eyes. Outside beyond the gate waited hundreds, maybe even thousands, of souls. At first he thought they were here to help lend a hand but soon murders and thievery began and continued to grow at a rampant pace. `` You called for me Boss?'' said a short, pointy eared elf. `` Yes I did. Jerry, I'm sure you and everyone else are aware of our growing `` help'' problem that exists just outside of town. It has been three weeks and the numbers just continue to increase. You've done a marvelous job of setting up the policing force but have you made any headway as to what they are doing here?'' Jerry took out his licorice notebook and flipped a few pages. `` Yes Santa. It seems that the USPS has made an error somewhere in their sorting system. We tried to call and have it corrected but their hours are all messed up and they wo n't return any of our messages.'' `` Have we sent letters as well?'' `` We have Sir but we think they are getting lost somewhere along the way.'' Santa moved to the window and looked out at the ridiculous spectacle that awaited him out on the snowy plains. He then turned toward Jerry who stood anxiously. `` Did you manage to wrap one of those souls like I asked?'' `` We did indeed Santa.'' `` Good! Now prep my sleigh and make sure the reindeer are ready to go. Looks like I'm going to have to deliver a package early this year.''

[ TT ] One day you wake up to find that the entire world is mirrored . What was left is now right and vice-versa . You on the other hand have stayed the same .

The first thing I noticed was the way my hands trembled. Holding the phone, my right hand shook with an uncharacteristic weakness, then as I blearily opened my eyes, it gave up completely, dropping the phone squarely on my face with a solid *thwock. * I had considered many things. For example, I was n't exactly young anymore - and the trembling could be the first signs of Parkinson's. Additionally, some of the chemicals I worked with - they could be the cause too. One whiff too many could cause temporary neurological symptoms. It was a cause for concern, but it was n't until I got up, and looked at my bedside table, that something really strange began to happen. I could have sworn the table was on my *right*. It had to be, since I was right-handed - yet it was distinctly on my left. And right there and then I sat bolt upright, sweating in the darkness, then fumbled for the light switch. Everything looked normal, but reversed. It was as if some alien being had folded my room in half and switched around all the contents. Symmetries and chirality had formed a big part of my life, of course - but I was sure I was n't simply seeing things. Carefully, I walked unsteadily over to my bathroom. There would be a while to sort out this mess, but I had to get dressed for work. My feet felt so awkward, almost as if I were walking on moving ground, almost as if the tiles before me were shifting and shaking at every stroke. And when I turned on the lights in my bathroom I got such a shock that my head spun a little. There, staring back at me in the mirror, was the mirrored version of me. I walked closer to the mirror, transfixed like Narcissius, not daring to take my eyes off me. Slowly, I raised my right hand. Mirror-me raised its left hand. Which meant... Everything else in the world had been mirrored. And I had been left untouched. -- - I put on my tie and suit as best I could, and looked out my window. The sun was just beginning to rise in the west, and the stray light beams lit up the road before me. And all the cars were on the *right* side of the road - which might have impressed my American colleagues but freaked the hell out of me. Oh God, so it is true, I thought. Everything but me is flipped. Downstairs there was a slowly ticking clock. I rushed downstairs, past my sleeping kid's snores, and I stared at the clock. All the numbers had been mirrored, so to me, they seemed like some strange alien language. But no matter. I kept staring at it, trying to divine some meaning from the numbers, as I willed the second hand to move. And eventually it did - *counter-clockwise*. Was time running backwards, or did the clock *appear* to move backward? I pulled out my phone from the pocket and held it up to the dry air, dimming the screen. In the mirror-like reflection of the glass the clock appeared to work normally. So it was the clock too that was reflected, everyone and everything else seemed to be flipped. Did physicists know yet? It was then that I spied a letter. The red letter on the table seemed symbolic enough, and I had to use my phone as a mirror again to read the contents. Inside the envelope lay a brand new, glossy piece of paper - so shiny I could n't believe the watermark. *Timescape*, it had said. *For all your time travelling needs. * This was followed by a hastily-scribbled mirrored message on the paper. Again, I put my phone to the message, and it stating only: *As you might have guessed, your world has been replaced with the mirror image of itself. You are one of the people we suspected might suffer from chiral shock - this idea that left is right and right is left. For the next few days, we advice you to stay away from driving anything, or from trying to operate any heavy machinery, and give yourself time for your body to adjust. Under Alderaanian law, this experiment will take no longer than twenty-five days of your natural suncycle. * *Best wishes, etc: TimeCorp. * Gently, I started looking at the clock again. Tick, tick, tick, it went - but in reverse. In reverse. TimeCorp. For all your time travelling needs. For all your- Oh God. The second realisation struck me like a lightning bolt. The world had become a time machine. -- - For more stories see /r/KCcracker!

[ WP ] `` Humanity spent its childhood reaching for the sky . When they held it in their hands , they found naught but empty space . ''

He stared into the blackness. Not space itself, but a simple LED monitor, which showed white dots in place of stars. This was the best they could do. Windows let in deadly radiation, he had never even seen space with his own two eyes. Nearly a year traveling the fastest the ship could allow, and he had not made even a dent in his journey. They were traveling to the nearest planet, some 10 light years away. Even moving at a pace the laws of physics deemed illegal, they would be in a metal box, breathing artificial air and drinking in artificial light for years to come. They had not told him this when he became an astronaut. The emptiness of it all. He had dreams of milky heavens and radiant light, but there naught but nothing. Everything was racing away from him. It was an aspect of physics, not matter where you are, you are at the center of the universe, and are falling farther and father away. It was a bitter irony, one he mused upon often. He looked at the monitor. They were passing by a black hole, an object of such mass, it's gravity pulled even light into it's abyss. He stared at the object. It was everything he had come to know about space. He pressed some keys on the controls, and the ship began to steer towards it. Everything in the universe ends up here, maybe I'll find what I've been looking for.

[ WP ] A man loses a fight with a lamppost .

`` You fucking... I did n't even say... what were you walking,'' and he throws another stumbling madman jab. Midnight, affluent crosswalk, and the police look on. `` I'm getting sick of taking this guy home.'' `` Have a little empathy, rook. Not like you're doing it for free.'' `` Bullshit. And so help me, if I have to hear his ol' lady's crying again... so help me.'' `` Just let him wear himself down.'' `` And how long's that supposed to take?'' `` Relax, stretch your legs. We'll drop him on the porch.'' `` Why not the tank?'' `` Made his father a promise, you know that, rook.'' `` What promise?'' `` You ca n't know everything. But you're right.'' `` About what?'' `` His wife's the worst.'' `` Completely.'' The rookie squinted, watching the drunk. `` Is he... is he trying a... is that a half nelson?'' `` I do n't know what to call that. I'm not sure it has a name.'' The drunk screamed POWERBOMB, the lampost slippery in his grip, arched his back, and fell back hard on the night's cold cement. `` C'mon rook, let's end this.'' `` I'm still amazed the bars serve him.'' Getting him in the cruiser was no problem, but the officers were n't pursuasive enough to keep him from pissing his pants. `` You better fucking believe that you're cleaning that piss up,'' shouted the rookie. `` Hey chief,'' said his partner, looking back from the wheel at the drunkard, `` everything okay with you?'' `` Sonuvabish came come down an, an...'' A hiccup. `` His wife's going to have him thrown in jail. Hopefully. This time.'' Said the rookie. `` She ca n't.'' `` He was fighting a fixture for fucks sakes.'' `` Yeah.'' `` A goddamn lampost.'' The drunk sat swaying in the back, hiccuping and burping, falling over the car's turns. `` We're gon na get you home, chief. `` `` What do you like this guy so much for?'' Hissed the rookie. `` I do n't.'' The drunk's house is a small ranch, a suburban node, small and dark and unmowed. Pulling up, the drunk whimpered. The officers sat silent in the stopped cruiser. `` Take him to his wife, rook.'' `` Jesus, okay.'' The rookie pulled the man out of the back, told him to calm down as he stumbled out of the vehicle, as he fell sobbing on the lawn, as he said then screamed No at the rookie cop. `` Give me a fucking break, let's go.'' The rookie carried him to the door by his sagging elbow and knocked on the door. No sounds from the house. No lights came on. Fifteen minutes the rookie's partner spent listening to the knocking, watching no lights turn on, listening the the drunk's sobbing, his mumbled pleading. Fifteen minutes spectating from the heat of the cruiser. Fifteen minutes for the rookie to understand that no one was going to answer the door.

[ WP ] Worst Day Ever ( 500 words or less )

I woke up in the hospital. Not really sure why I ’ m here, but I think I have an idea. Last thing I remember is hearing that I ’ d lost everything. I ’ ll never forget the phone number that called me, “ 555-555-3825. ” I didn ’ t know who it was, but I answered it as I do any number. “ Hello? ” the voice asked, “ Is this John? ” I replied, “ Yes, who is this? ” “ This is Lucy Fern from the State Sherriff ’ s Office. I need you to come to my office. She then proceeded to tell me where it was. She wouldn ’ t tell me why she needed me to be there, but was very urgent sounding, so I left work early and made my way across town. I get to the building and when I walk in, everyone gets silent. At that moment I knew something bad happened, and I wasn ’ t the first person who would know. I walk to her door, and it was open. “ Please, John, come in and shut the door behind you, ” said Lucy “ This is officer Jess Chris. ” I look the Officer Jess and ask them both, “ Why was it so urgent I ’ m here? I ’ m losing hours at work. ” “ John, ” Lucy said, “ There has been an accident. ” I went numb. “ Something happened at your house today while you were away, and we need you to stay calm so we can give you all the details. ” She held her hands out for me. I couldn ’ t speak. “ John, your family is gone. Your wife Sandra, and little girl Jane were both killed in a terrible accident, and your house was burnt down. The inves… ” I don ’ t remember much after that. I just remember after that, I went to where my house used to be. And saw nothing but charred remains of what my life used to be. I sat in my car, for what seems forever. I then decided that I had nothing to live for anymore, that my life was just a pile of ashes, and the two women in my life were no longer. And that morning I had left the house mad because Sandra had accidentally washed my white shirt for work with a red one, staining it pink. I never even told her I loved her. I was lost; I have nothing to live for anymore, nothing to call my own and no one to love. So I went to the store, and used my credit card which was thousands in debt, not that it mattered, to grab some lighter fluid and a drill. I drove to where my house used to be. I parked closest to the center of the house I could. I then removed the back seat, and drilled a hole into the gas tank, covered myself in the lighter fluid. Last thing I remember was feeling really hot. And now I ’ m here. In a bed, completely immersed in a burning pain, and completely alone.

[ TT ] A group of bandits are holding up your town bank . You start to suspect that they do n't actually have guns and are just pointing their fingers under their coats .

`` I'm afraid I ca n't do that,'' said the clerk, blinking in surprise. `` AND WHY THE HELL NOT?'' roared the bandit, gesturing his concealed weapon suggestively. `` Well... because this is clearly all a joke...'' The bandit hesitated, then snorted in mock laughter, `` You doubting my weapon boy? You really think I would just barge in here and rob a bank without packing heat?'' `` Well not to put the blame on you specifically, but yeah I think that's what you guys were going for.'' The bandit looked around, and smiled nervously, `` haha son! It's just you and me here, and these fine people of course.'' `` But... you're clearly three kids in a trenchcoat...'' The bandit shook internally at that, as though there was some sort of angry rearrangement of his internal organs. `` Kids in a.... mister - do we look like we're joking around here? Just fork over the cash bankman!'' `` But.... I ca n't. This is n't a bank, this is a library. I can give you some of our books if you want to borrow them.'' The little bandits looked around and suddenly became aware of the people throwing them dirty shushing glances. The top one lowered his voice and tried to seek a way out: `` Can we just leave then?'' `` I'm sorry.... you guys do n't actually exist. None of us do. This is just a story.'' And with a puff of illogic the whole universe collapsed in on itself and vanished.

[ WP ] You are walking with a co-worker on a busy city street and stop to bend down to re-tie your shoe while your co-worker walks on . You stand up only to someone assassinate your co-worker with a silenced pistol ; then calls someone saying , `` I thought you said there would be two . ''

To put it simply, we were running away. Matt and i were worming through the crowded sidewalk towards the station, planning to hide for the next week. And so were the other co-workers of my department. It was a basic precaution. We knew what we were dealing with. It could be the biggest sensation of the year. Big names will be stained tomorrow. Maybe we'll win a Pulitzer But today we are running away. As i moved through, someone stepped on my shoelace, and suddenly i lost my balance. Matt did not seem to notice, as he kept moving forward. Making sure he was still within my reach, i tied my shoelace. That's when i saw it, a bulky man seemed to embrace Matt and pulled out a silenced gun. without holing back, he pulled the trigger once.Then he dragged Matt to the Bench nearby and proped him on it. `` I thought you said there would be two'' he said into his headset. Three things flashed into my mind The tickets in Matt's coat. The hard disk that was with me The fact that someone else might be with this assassin. I crouched my way backwards. I needed to escape. And going straight towards them was not the way. < I > I need a computer. < /I > I took a longer way, through smaller alleys, to the station. And as i guessed the was an internet cafe in it. i took the empty terminal and pluuged my hard disk into it. My phone rang. Private number. I reluctantly picked it up. `` Randy'', the voice said,'' Give us the files and you may live another day. At that the bulky assassin entered the cafe. They traced me here!

[ EU ] DnD - Come up with a low level adventure idea - Let the scenario play out in your writing .

Duncan stood in front of the inn peering at the parchment in his hand. Surely this wasn ’ t the place? The sign hung crooked on its post, scarred and faded. The door looked mangled and did not sit correctly in the frame. No stable boy was near to tend to horses. No man stood guard at the door to claim the short sword at his hip nor the shield on his back. The name on the sign matched the name on the parchment, though. He had heard the name spoken from old Boris ’ own tongue, so he stepped inside to search for the men he was sent here to meet. No more than a dozen men were in the common area. Two sat at a table. Each had a beer in hand, one wearing frayed gray robes and the other in faded leather with a bow and quiver between his feet. Men sat at other tables, two others at the bar, but these two in particular matched the description on the parchment. Two men: a young apprentice of the Mage Guild, the other a common ranger. There was another that should also be among them, but was not present. They were speaking, but Duncan was not close enough to hear their words. He approached them, parchment in hand, and sat down at the table. After requesting a beer for himself from the serving girl, he turned to them, “ You got yourselves a piece of paper too? You been hired by the old man? ” he asked, holding his parchment up for them to see. The mage turned, smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but the ranger spoke first, “ Might be we are. Who ’ re you? And which old man do you speak of? ” he asked, ignoring the mage to peer suspiciously at Duncan. “ Duncan. I ’ m Duncan. Boris hired me. The hammer that the goblins stole from the blacksmith? Says the hammer was passed on through the blacksmith ’ s family from father to son, the hammer of some long dead king that were overthrown. ” The serving girl brought his drink, and he took a long drink, asking “ How are you both called? ” The mage spoke first now, “ I ’ m Victor. My cautious friend here is Avery, and we have both been tasked by Boris to retrieve the very same hammer you spoke of. Yet another of our party is missing. ” As the mage finished speaking, a man stumbled into the inn, his garb black and tight, black hair about his shoulders. “ I ’ m here! ” he said, out of breath, hands at his knees, “ Don ’ t… don ’ t worry. I ’ m here, ” he panted, taking a seat at the table after regaining some small measure of composure. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hands went to his head the moment he took his seat. He was hung over. “ I ’ m Gerald. Boris hired you lot too, right? ” “ Yeah, he did, ” Duncan confirmed, introducing the other men in turn, “ We ’ re all prepared, yeah? ” he looked around the group, “ Once we ’ ve met we ’ re to start down the Goblin Trail, the paper says. We can plot while we travel, there ’ s no reason to stay here, ” he said, to no disagreement. They each finished their drinks and set two coppers on the table, save for the rogue. They fell in step outside, Gerald chattering. The inn was at the edge of the town, a long dirt path leading away from the gate into the distance towards Brickenville. Between here and there was the entrance to the Goblin Trail, a narrow track branching off of the main path that lead to a small goblin camp. The hammer was rumored to have been taken there. “ Me granddad, though, ” Gerald was saying, “ The best damn thief that ever lived, that he was. King Lester called on him plenty o ’ times, things lost and needing stealing, and I taken up the trade when me father left and bedded some princess… ” “ You ’ d think from such a gifted line of men, you ought to have the sense to lie with more grace, ” the ranger said, his amused tone laced with irritation. “ I ’ m not tellin ’ no tales! ” Gerald said, hurt, “ It ’ s true! A great line of thieves, my father and his- “ and stopped as Victor hushed him. “ There ’ s something in the bush, ” he said, and as the party hushed the bushes rustled a little. Avery unslung his bow and knocked an arrow, ready to draw, while Duncan drew his sword, his shield held up. A high voice said, “ Go! Idiot! Go! They stopped! ” and a small green figure tumbled out of the bushes followed by four other goblins, each held a dagger or a short sword and all wore tattered leather. They screamed and charged, two rushing at Duncan, two at Victor, and another at Gerald. Duncan swung his sword at one goblin, his sword flying wildly over the goblin ’ s head as the goblin nicked him in the leg with his dagger, dropping his shield to barely block the other goblin ’ s thrust. He turned and swung again at the first one, the tip of his sword catching the goblin ’ s finger as it tried to avoid the cut, and it screamed and dropped its dagger. He swung his shield around and caught the side of the goblin ’ s head, and it fell limp to the ground. He turned his attention to the second one, just as it bit him on the leg, thrusting its sword at his other leg. He hollered out and moved his other leg to avoid the thrust, and put his boot against the goblin ’ s face as it reared back to take another bite at him. The goblin staggered back, dazed, and Duncan swung his sword, his grip on his own blade loose and watched as the sword flew from his hand, the tip of his sword spearing the goblin between the eyes. He rushed towards the goblin to wrench the sword out of the little green skull to cover up his shameful mistake, and turned to see that his allies fared little better. Victor was fleeing in large circles, wand in hand, two scorched marks upon the earth, an arrow lodged in his arm though no goblin carried a bow. Two unburnt goblins chased him with daggers, cackling, while the ranger stood aside with his bow, loosing arrows at the goblins. An arrow landed in the dirt a foot from a goblin, one landed just shy of Victor ’ s heel, another flew between the legs of another goblin, and another just past Duncan ’ s own head. “ I missed both spells! I have no more! ” the mage yelled at Duncan, thwacking at the goblins with his wand when they got close as they were chasing him. One of the goblins had a hand over one eye, stumbling as he and his companion chased Victor. “ They won ’ t… stop… moving… ” Avery said, red faced and flustered, and turned his attention instead to the rogue who was grappling with his own goblin in the dirt. “ Me daggers! He took me daggers! ” Gerald yelled, struggling to keep the blades away from him, the goblin cackling madly. The goblin was taking wild swings at him, as the rogue tried to bring his knees up to shove him away, his hands around the goblin ’ s wrists, keeping the blades away. How were they ever going to get this hammer?

[ WP ] Make up a country and convince me it 's real .

BLACK SEA MONARCHY THREATENED BY 3500 YEAR OLD RUINS *Joachim Yanipatris* The ruins of the ancient city of Gannunatui, discovered in Seszirya by an international archaeological expedition in early 2011 were ordered to be demolished today by King Helkurij Ziryokov. This follows similar demolitions that have taken place in the tiny Black Sea nation since 2012. Several petitions have been sent by eminent historians across the world to preserve these ruins, which date back to the 15th century BC and may yield knowledge about the development of urban communities in the region. According to Dr. Taher al-Sina from the University of Cairo, Gannunatui, which means'City of the Exalted', represents the only artifact of the First Nimmuki Kingdom, established by refugees fleeing Babylon from the Kassite invasions of the 15th century BC. The Nimmuki controlled a substantial part of the western Caucasus for the next three centuries before disappearing during the'Sea People' invasions that also saw the end of their Hittite allies in Anatolia. They re-appeared in the 6th century BC as one of the ‘ Traitor Tribes ’ who defected to the Persian Orontids and helped destroy the fledging Urartu Empire. They promptly disappeared again only to sporadically re-emerge in turbulent periods of the region, usually termed as ‘ betrayers ’ or ‘ false-voiced ’. Mithridates VI of Pontus called them ‘ seeds of wickedness ’ after their delaying action led to the slaughter of his army by Pompey ’ s Roman forces. They were part of Andronikos Doukas ’ advisors whose betrayal in the Battle of Manzikert led to a catastrophic Byzantine defeat from which the Empire never recovered. Tamerlane employed them as mercenaries during his invasion of Georgia and they are the ‘ Nimkakhe ’ villains of the Georgian epic-poem *Dasha Karakussal*. They vanished during the purges of Alexios III of Trebizond and are not mentioned again in any regional records. The current Sesso-Circassian majority is divided into several clans who claim descent from Genoan and Venetian mercenaries employed by the Black Sea Greeks to fight against the Ottomans in the 15th century. The Ziryokov Clan has been pre-eminent among them since 1934 when they broke away from the other clans and signed their territory over to the Soviets. Under terms of this agreement, the Soviets *dispersed* the leaders of rival clans across Siberia. The Ziryokov-Soviet relationship soured in 1987 after Ioannes Ziryokov declared Sesziryan independence. Ioannes ’ nation endured for an entire month against brutal Soviet reprisals. His appeals for aid and foreign intervention failed to get through the Soviet blockade and his doomed rebellion was subsequently never reported by the international press. After the Soviet collapse, Seszirya became an independent monarchy under King David Ziryokov. A brief affair with American style democracy was attempted in the late nineties but failed after the attempted assassination of Prince Helkurij in 1998. Corruption is rampant in Seszirya and poverty remains a widespread issue. Electricity is only available in the capital of Ganade and the port of Nakapetra. Although investments in infrastructure have increased substantially in recent years, Seszirya remains a predominantly agricultural country. Reforms initiated by King Helkurij in 2010 have shown promise of increasing revenue. In 2005, the popular local singer Atyana Suranova accused the Ziryakovs of ‘ Nimya blood ’, drawing traces between them and the ‘ Traitor Tribes ’. King Sokij in turn accused her of being in the pay of Turkey and Georgia, and of attempting to weaken the Sesziri nation. Suranova was executed and rumors about Ziryokov heritage were repressed. The discovery of Gannunatui led to a renewal in these rumors. The Mekossoku Democratic Block, formed after Helkurij ’ s reforms, promised to uncover the truth during the terminated elections last November. It is widely believed that Helkurij ’ s hold over Nakapetra is shaky while the capital of Ganade is beset by violent protests demanding evidence of his true bloodline. A military high command overhaul early this year also suggests that there may be dissension in the ranks. Observers in Ankara and Tbilisi believe that Ziryokov is crucial for stability in Seszirya and that his ouster could result in collapse. Their aid continues to prop up the current regime. Helkurij ’ s demolition of Gannunatui are said to be an attempt to prove his credentials and silence all alleged links with the hated Nimya. Philokkomis Talaktov, the MDB leader presents this as evidence of how a Nimya traitor would betray even his own Nimya ancestry.

[ CW ] Write a horror story with no gore or death , not even implied .

He was almost free. The thought of being held captive in that chair for much longer was eating at him. He squirmed when he heard footsteps approaching. No. Not now. He was almost free. The freedom beckoned to him every time he glanced at his watch or gazed at the door. But the footsteps signaled that he would n't make it. He was almost free. The footsteps could be heading to another cell, to another person eager to escape, but he doubted it. The footsteps were coming for him. He was almost free. Just a few more minutes and he would be free to make a break for it. His escape route was planned out well in advance. But the footsteps stopped behind him. He braced himself. He was almost out. But the hand fell on his shoulder. The voice, trying to sound sympathetic, merely said `` yeah, we're gon na need you to come in tomorrow.'' He was almost free. And he muttered barely audible, `` but it's Saturday…''

[ WP ] You are a zombie in the middle of an apocolypse who lost all their memories and humanity . each time you feed and infect , you slowly gain back a bit of both .

HUNGER. & nbsp; HUNGER. & nbsp; FOOD? & nbsp; EAT! *** HUNGER. & nbsp; HUNGER. & nbsp; FOOD? & nbsp; EAT! *** I Hunger. & nbsp; I smell... & nbsp; FOOD! & nbsp; I attack! & nbsp; I eat. *** I Hunger. & nbsp; I see... something. & nbsp; I approach. & nbsp; FOOD! & nbsp; I attack. & nbsp; I eat *** I am driven by Hunger. & nbsp; I search for food. & nbsp; I see prey. & nbsp; I pursue my prey. & nbsp; I eat. *** I am again driven by the Hunger. I roam the streets, searching for food. I spot a small group of uninfected. They flee as I approach. I lunge, and grab the slowest one. I eat. *** I have joined a pack. Most of the pack simply follows the Hunger. Our leader is different. He is cunning. He is wise. He speaks. He leads us to a settlement of uninfected. We attack together. A brave few dare to fight us, the rest run. As we consume the ones who tried to stop us, our leader looks over to us. `` Can you speak?'' *** Another day, another hunt. I stand with four other from our pack in the woods behind a camp of uninfected. Most of the pack attacks the settlement, while we wait here for any that flee. Although a few uninfected manage to escape, today we feast. As we finish, satisfying the Hunger, our leader approaches. `` Can you speak?'' he asks And this time, I can.

[ WP ] Its been five years since the zombie outbreak was put down by the world military . A reporter for your national news comes to your house to ask for your story on how you and your family survived the outbreak .

He stood on the stoop with just a notepad. `` How did you and your family survive the outbreak?'' he asked, ready to write. It had become the question that everyone in our society was asked when they first introduced themselves. We no longer cared where you were from or where you worked. We cared about how you'd made it through alive when so many others had n't. But I hated that question. *'' I was at work when it first started...'' * I answered. Spring rain had been tapping on the windows as I worked. Just a short shower; it would pass soon. On the news, we heard about the infection spreading through the state. It seemed to drive people mad. The anchor on CNN was saying that Sacramento had been quarantined now and that nobody could get in touch with the Governor or anyone else in the Capitol. It had seemed so far away until that moment. I took a break from my work; I'd been trying not to stare at the computer screen for such long periods of time. I grabbed a bottle of water and looked out the window. In the parking lot, a mob of disheveled people were clustered around a car. They pounded on the windows, but they were n't even trying to door handles. The windshield shattered, and three of them climbed onto the hood. They crawled through the broken glass, pulled out the driver, and tore out his throat as I watched. *'' As soon as I realized what was happening, I raced home...'' * I'd never been so thankful to own a motorcycle. The interstate was jam-packed with cars, so close together that I could n't go between them. I just drove through the grassy median; bumpy, but much faster. Some people were just standing on the shoulder, waiting for traffic to clear. Some of them were nursing bleeding wounds, wrapped in whatever towel or t-shirt they could find. Some of them were already turning. `` *When I got there, I just grabbed some of my belongings... *'' `` Maria!'' I shouted as I burst through the door. `` We need to go. There's something happening!'' In the living room, the TV was on, and I could hear some of the anchors chattering about the infection. `` Maria?'' I called out again. *Where was she? * The back door was open, banging lightly against the frame as it blew in the breeze. I moved to close it, and caught a glimpse of long, black hair out the window in the backyard. I followed her out. `` Maria!'' I shouted to her. She turned, and I saw the blood dribbling down her chin. If it were n't for that, she would have looked exactly the same as that first day we met, all those years ago. But she growled like a vicious dog and took off running in my direction. I scrambled back inside and closed the door behind me. She thumped against it like a bird running into a clear window. I raced to the living room closet and grabbed my gun from the highest shelf. Maria had n't wanted to have one in the home; she was afraid of them. She was worried that Thomas might find it. I returned to the back door holding the weapon in front of me. `` Maria...'' I said slowly. There was a growl from outside. I opened a window and tried to talk to her through the screen. `` Maria, I need you to...'' She launched herself through the window at me, hands grasping and clawing at the air. She caught hold of my shirt sleeve until I ripped it from her vice-like grasp. Her eyes were cold and dead, like a shark's. She managed to climb through the opening and advanced. Her front of her yellow dress was stained with gore. My hands shook as I raised the gun and pulled the trigger; her body crumpled to the linoleum. I lowered the gun and took a deep breath. My hands were shaking so much that I thought I might drop the pistol. But the shot had attracted some unwelcome attention. I heard a series of groans from the neighbor's yard, and I saw that part of the fence had been torn down. That must be how they got to Maria. It would only be a matter of time before they found me too. I slammed the door shut and ran up to Thomas's room. Hopefully Maria had already picked him up from kindergarten. His door was closed. I knocked first. I'd never done that before entering my son's room. I do n't know why I did it. A groan answered from the other side. `` Thomas?'' I called out. The groan was louder this time. My voice broke as I called his name again. The door rattled, and there was another groan. I could n't look. Shooting my wife was enough for me. I left him there. And it was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I'd probably killed hundreds of zombies in my years on the mountain, but *not* killing one is the one thing that weighs on my soul. `` *and as soon as I had the supplies I needed, I just left town. I headed up into the mountains and hid out in a hunting lodge until it was safe. `` * He was scribbling it all into his notepad, then nodded. `` You and your family stayed up there the whole time?'' I shook my head and pursed my lips. `` I did n't have a family. It was just me.'' He looked back down at his clipboard and checked the form. They'd found all of the old census data from before. `` Says here:'Wife: Maria, Son: Thomas.'' I shook my head. `` Must be some kind of mistake.''

[ WP ] Poor people are able to pawn off their memories .

No clue why he'd bought it. One of those brunch Sundays followed by a stroll on the main. He'd been in there before, but never bought a memory. Maybe it was the title: *Isaiah*. A simple title for a memory, and he liked the name. But in any case he'd bought it, took it out to his car. The business certainly brought cassettes back into business -- something about the antiquity of the device seemed to hold memories better. More expensive, more precious memories came on vinyl, but he was no collector. At any rate he felt lucky at the time that his junker had a cassette player already so he would n't have to buy one; that'd be plain inconvenient, really. He did n't have headphones, which he'd been told helped absorption. That was probably a good thing, because he could barely handle it as it was. Shaking in the dark of his room, he tried to push it out. At this point, he knew this person was less desperate for cash than they were to get this out of their head. And what a gyp, this was n't one memory... it was a web. He'd heard of that before, that they were often too interlaced to fully separate from others -- echoes forced their way in no matter the memory. But this... this was an entire world of neurological pathways being activated. This led to that, that led to the other -- every memory of Isaiah pushed into one long moment of beautiful, beautiful pain. Isaiah! He saw him everywhere, he dreamed of him, was haunted by him. He loved him, so, so much. He did n't even know him! Isaiah. The creator of the memory could n't live loving Isaiah in this painful way, knowing he was gone. He saw Isaiah -- it was bloody and the memory holder had seen it and now he had, too, and it broke him into such small pieces he worried that with every reminder of the memory he would split like an atom and destruct entirely. It had been four hours. He walked to the bathroom, wash the tears off his face. A glance in the mirror and he saw someone new, just briefly. She was n't beautiful, the way Isaiah was, but that angel reflected in her eyes and became her. The memory holder. He had to find her. He had to give it back. He did n't want this memory anymore. - `` I do n't know an Isaiah,'' she said plainly. Of course she did n't. `` You gave away your memory of him, please, take it back. I do n't want it. I do n't want it anymore!'' he pleaded. `` Why do n't you just pawn it back?'' `` The clerk said he would n't take it back! He practically gave it to me, said it's been there years,'' he was getting desperate, fell to his knees, pleading. She looked at him with pity and disgust, like he was a starved dog covered in fleas. `` I must have given it away for a reason,'' she said thoughtfully. `` Why do n't you want it?'' `` I...,'' if he told her she would n't take it back. `` I have an irrational fear of... the subject of it...'' `` That sounds like a lie. How did you know it was my memory, anyway?'' `` I saw you in the mirror, I talked to the clerk and found your name, searched. Look it's been two weeks and I'm terrified, please just take it back. I'll pay you anything.'' She almost seemed to believe him, paused for what seemed like an eon. `` Okay. $ 800.'' Money was no matter at this point. He thanked her and they went to the shop to transfer the memory. `` Are you sure you want this?'' the clerk asked her. `` It'll cover my rent this month,'' she replied passively. They hooked themselves in. Ten minutes for full transfer. Six minutes. Three minutes. One minute. `` There. It'll take a moment for it to actualize in your neural pathways. Interpersonal transfers are always a bit more tricky,'' the clerk said. `` Have a good day.'' He placed a pre-written check in her hand and saw her eyes go wide. She seemed to stop breathing and clutched her chest, making a strange choking sound. `` Hey, do you need an ambulance or something?'' he asked the lady. She fell to her knees and let out a strange sob, a sound he'd never heard before. `` Oh god, Isaiah!'' she wailed. `` I... I'm sorry, who?''

[ WP ] You have the ability to talk to your future self in your dreams , and you use it to try and benefit yourself in the present . Only problem is that your future self is a huge asshole .

It has always been the question on our minds, and the way he pauses mid-sentence gives me the leverage I need to go all the bluffing way. So he *doesn't* know, I realise, `` You would n't'', he says, `` Expect to wake up tomorrow and look your patients in the eye with'I eat dog balls' tattooed over your face, that's IF there's still a job for you tomorrow'', He gulps. Yep, he would n't like that, the fancy pants medical messiah no longer worshiped by his legion of druggie pedestal sniffers. Besides, who knew how this dream thing worked, maybe our timelines were n't connected, but he was actually *listening* and I've been banking on the idea that they are for a long time now. `` What do you want? ``, `` You know what I want, we both know I'm innocent, so why am I rotting in this prison cell while your throwing parties at Swarovski's'' `` You think I enjoy talking to you?'' `` Likewise'', `` But that was years ago, why do you keep bringing me back to this nightmare'', This is the most emotional I've seen him, I must admit, He continues, `` please just serve your time in peace, leave me alone'', he shakes his head, `` you're... you're....you're just a figment of my imagination'' I throw my hands up, `` urgh, I getting sick of this, are you talking to that shrink again? ``, `` Her ***name*** is Am-an-da'' `` Well tell Am-an-da you like eating dogs balls for breakfast'' I start to end the dream. `` Wait! ``, The look on his - *my* older face is priceless, `` Listen. You think that you're innocent, but you're not-'' `` I a-'' `` Listen! This is not the first time this has happened, a few years ago I would dream and meet a terrifying person, an old man, I thought these nightmares were just performance anxieties, until after repeatedly meeting you. We're not encountering each other much nowadays days are we?'' My hands are shaking for some reason, ``... no... because you do n't listen to me'' `` Wrong. These are n't just your dreams these are mine'', he looks up, `` not sleeping can have strange effects on a person...'', He goes silent. `` Um... oka-'' He's gaze drops to me, I hear lightning, `` it's the serum I made to block you - no - all dreams out for good'', It's slowly starting to dawn on me what kind of time in the slammer lies ahead, especially if drug induced dream blocking sounds like a viable solution to future me, ``........listen.....'', I say slowly, ``...... we've been framed....'', ``...... sometimes accidents happen when I take the serum, I'm not quite myself'', a sort of high pitched giggle slips out of him and I suddenly want the dream to end, Catching my face he quickly composes himself, straightens his tie and coughs into his hand, `` you see it's imperative that you leave me alone, perhaps you-'' `` We-'' `` -have been framed, as you-'' `` -we-'' `` -say-'' `` -know-'' My older self has a smashing smile, `` -it could be a dissatisfied patient of mine'', he says, `` someone like us-'' `` ARE YOU-the ever living fu- you think I'm being framed for something *you* did-'' `` -if they can feed information into the pas-'' `` Wha -- what the fuck did you do!? ``, I hold the heel of my hand to my head,'urgh!', is he, is he using the serum *now*?? Everything starts to get blurry, `` Do n't worry, just live out the time, the old man will tell you how to make it, to get rid of all the bad dreams for good, that's why it does n't matter-'', Everything is shaking, nothing is staying still in my vision, `` -what you say, it simply does n't matter, you'll no longer exist - so rot in there for all I care - do n't worry I'm not him either - that's why it's not my fault, I'm the best doctor in the world you see, I'm talking to Amanda so I wo n't need the serum- but just this once, just this once, just this'' ... there is no justice... As the dream world disintegrates I wonder faintly if I should spell balls with an S or a Z.

[ WP ] A second Ice Age has ravaged the Earth in the year 2039 . While scavenging , you realize that the Ice Age was artificially started , and you think you know why .

`` No, bro, no. You ca n't be for real. They were actually afraid of global *warming? *'' Jake rubbed his forehead, shoving his sister. `` Look, am I the translator or you? That's what it says!'' Molly stood on her toes to look over his shoulder at the papers they'd found. The `` newer'' of the buried stone buildings tended to be better pickings than the older ones. They were better insulated, after all. And somewhere in the middle of this one, they'd found some old papers that had n't been completely waterlogged. Molly had been far more interested in the frozen, mummified dogmeat on the counter, but Jake managed to talk her out of trying to eat it. Now she was sating her boredom by annoying him while he parsed through the historical documents. `` Okay, poindexter, riddle me this? What's so bad about global warming, anyhow?'' `` Uh, well, I do n't understand all of it, but from what it looks like, they were doing things with smoke that was making the planet heat up a lot.'' `` So, what,'' said Molly, `` they were lighting the whole earth on fire?'' `` I do n't think so. This paper thinks I know more than I do. It's really interesting though.'' Jake sat down on a well-preserved couch, it's only protest a crunch and the expulsion of a puff of frozen dust. Molly leaned over the back of the couch behind him, lifting her anti-glare goggles to focus on the paper, as if willing the words to make sense. `` I still do n't get how warming the globe is a bad thing.'' `` Well, it's like...'' Jake struggled for words. `` Like... you know how Huskies basically already have fur coats, so they do n't need new clothes for the cold, right? Well, if stuff got really hot everywhere all the time, all the huskies would overheat and die and we'd have no more huskies.'' `` Fuck that.'' Her dark brown face scrunched at the idea. `` Yeah. But the point is, this paper says they sorta accidentally made it so it was gon na get too hot for humans, and humans were all gon na overheat and die.'' `` Whaaaaaaaat?'' Molly stood up straight, leaning against her spear. `` How does that even happen?'' `` I dunno. This article kinda acts like I should... already know how it happened? Like it's my fault or something.'' `` Pft. Stupid article.'' She leaned back down to look over his shoulder again, focusing on a small, crude drawing of some man in weird clothes with a cloud coming out of his mouth. `` Well, if they were so afraid of global warming, how'd this happen?'' `` That's the really interesting thing,'' Jake said, pointing at the bottom of the article. `` Operation Pluh... pluuoouuu... pluhtoo? Yeah, I'm going with pluhtoo. Operation Pluhtoo was put into order to... do something. I do n't completely understand it. Something about getting further from the sun to... reverse it or something? But the thing is... sis,'' he looked up at her, pushing his own goggles up to his forehead, `` I think our forefathers did this on purpose.'' Molly considered for a moment, still carefully tracing the lines of the cartoon with her eyes before she shook her head. `` No. No bro, I do n't buy it. I do n't think you're lying, but this has got ta be some kind of story or something. Like some campfire shit.'' Jake's face screwed up with frustration and Molly sighed. `` Look, you wan na bring it home anyway? One little thing of paper is n't gon na take up too much space. Either way though, we have to keep moving. Tribe ca n't live on just paper.'' Jake looked wistfully at the other papers in the building, but finally nodded. `` Okay. But mark this place on the map when we get home, okay? I wan na come back here sometime.''

[ WP ] Everybody who turns 25 learns a reality shattering secret about the world . Nobody has ever leaked this secret to somebody under 25 . Today is your 25th birthday .

“ Name? ” “ Felicia Krohn. ” The woman, “ Gladys, ” according to the name tag pinned to her white lab coat, stepped away from the desk. Rows of filing cabinets stretched from floor to ceiling and stretched to reach tall, coolly lit windows. The light picked up dusty swirls and halos around Gladys as she bent and pulled a drawer, wheezing. She picked through the files until she found mine, and pulled out a slip of paper that wafted and crackled in the draft. My mouth got dryer as her heavy footsteps dragged closer. She lay the document on her desk. Felicia Annette Krohn. Born Day 3, 177th cycle, 0900 hour. “ Place your index finger here, please, ” Gladys guided my hand to the white Phlebotomer. I winced as the needle shanked my finger. Gladys held my hand over the 25th square on the paper, alongside 24 increasingly faded blotches of red. She handed me a square of gauze and fed the paper into a slot. The slot made a vacuuming sound which I knew meant my sample was being whisked away to some lab. Perhaps. I could not be sure. “ Thank you, Ms. Krohn. You may have a seat over there, ” her eyes flitted up at me, baggy and red-rimmed with clumsily-applied violet eyeliner. “ Happy birthday. ” I sat down beside a man hunched over in his chair and clasping his shaking hands. His eyes were still and seemed to see beyond the industrial carpeting of no color in particular. The woman next to him, closer to the door, sat straight with her slim jaw held aloft. Her grey eyes slid over to me under their long eyelashes. The door opened. “ O ’ Hare, Blanche, ” called a man in a white coat with a clipboard. Blanche slowly stood and smoothed her skirt before following him inside. The door shut behind them and I gazed around me. Drop tile ceiling. Fluorescent lighting. Gladys blowing her nose and inspecting the tissue. “ Donuts are here! You want lemon or raspberry? ” called a nasal voice from beyond the file-drawers. “ ‘ bout damn time, ” Gladys stood and slid shut the frosted glass window. I waited for the voices to fade before I gave the man beside me a sidelong look. “ So, ” I whispered, grabbing a magazine from the table and opening it to a random page, “ what do you suppose it is? ” A pause stretched for minutes, and it seemed he had not heard. Or chose not to hear. “ My sister got her secret many cycles ago. Acted like she was the queen of Sheba when she got home. I could ’ ve slapped that smug grin off her face, ” I volunteered, the carpet soaking up my voice. The man blew out a breath and balled his hands into fists on his knees. Clenching, unclenching. “ I tried for weeks to get her to tell me. I was so darn curious. When that didn ’ t work, I pretended like I wasn ’ t interested. She was so full of herself, she had to be burning to rub my face in whatever it was. No, that didn ’ t work either, ” I laughed. My conversation partner didn ’ t break his gaze from the floor. “ Well... I finally got the idea to look for it in her diary. She kept it hidden inside this teddy bear with a ripped seam she didn ’ t think I knew about. With her cigarettes and lighter. When she caught me, slapped the back of my head so hard my ears rang. And I couldn ’ t even tell on her because it ’ s forbidden to do what I was trying to do, right? But then she said the weirdest thing, ” I glanced over and saw the man had tilted his head slightly toward me. “ She said- ” “ Rodriguez, Hector, ” Hector jumped in his seat and turned his head toward the doctor. “ Hector, follow me, please, ” the doctor tapped his pen on the clipboard. Hector went in like a man walking to the gallows. The door shut again and I smacked the magazine back down on the table, reclined until the back of my head bumped the wall. I bit my tongue and rubbed my sore scalp as I took in my bland tableau once more. Why is it that I had not seen anyone come back through that door yet? The door opened once more, giving me a start. “ Krohn, Felicia, ” said a woman who never looked up from her clipboard. She propped open the door with her foot and took a greasy bite out of a glazed danish while she waited for me to come in. I balled up the stained gauze in my right hand and followed the woman down a hall that ended with one door. “ Go on inside and the doctor will explain your results, ” the woman said through a mouthful of danish. “ Results? Of what? ” She rolled her eyes at me, turned her heel and walked away before turning into another hall out of sight. I placed my hand on the cold metal handle a moment before grasping and turning it. “ Come in, Felicia! ” the doctor piped in a sing-song voice. She hugged me with thin arms and beamed in a way that drew her lined face taut against her skull. Before I could think to return the hug, she was already sitting down behind her desk and motioning for me to take the chair across from her. “ I ’ m Dr. Hopper, I will be explaining your results with you today, ” she folded her hands over a thick file, “ are you having a happy birthday, Felicia? ” “ Er... yeah, I think so. Um, what results? Have I been tested for something? Am I... sick or something? ” my voice broke. Dr. Hopper simpered and slid a box of tissues toward me. “ There, there, nothing to worry about. This is your big day! You get your secret! ” I blinked and plucked a tissue from the box to dab my eyes, conscious of her studying my face with inscrutable eyes that didn ’ t seem to follow her mouth. “ You have been monitored closely with the greatest care every cycle of your life, ” she began. “ We have concluded, Felicia, that you have a soul. ” “ What? ” “ It ’ s great news! ” “ Isn ’ t everyone supposed to have a soul... I mean, how do you even test for it? Aren ’ t you supposed to be a doctor? ” “ Oh, Felicia, honey, that ’ s the secret. Since the 34th cycle, we found something, markers in the blood, that indicate the presence of the soul. ” “ So some people don ’ t have one? ” “ As far as we know, no, not everyone tests positive for a soul. ” “ If you can know by looking at my blood, why wait until I ’ m 25 to tell me? ” “ The brain is fully developed by about 25. The genetic markers for the soul are strongest by then. Some scientists believe the soul may have its seat in the brain. So you see, we can ’ t know for sure if a person has a soul until they reach their 25th birthday. ” We sat in silence for a moment. “ Wait. How do you even know this thing is a soul? ” “ Because it persists. We ’ ve studied - please excuse me if this seems morbid - but we ’ ve looked at what remains after the bodily tissues have decayed. This material, the soul, it persists. We ’ ve even been able to contain it. For a little while. Would you like to see one? ” My skin crawled. “ Um... no, thank you. I ’ m just trying to figure out - what does it mean? ” “ That ’ s for you to decide, Felica, ” “ What about people who don ’ t have a soul? What happens to them? ” “ It depends. Probably nothing. Some people didn ’ t believe in souls even before they received the secret. How can you miss something you never believed you had? ” Dr. Hopper steepled her fingers together and smiled at me. “ Well then... why is this kept a secret? ” “ Because people need to have a choice, ” she pulled a stack of paper from the file and slid it across the desk to me. “ What ’ s this? ” “ It ’ s your extraction consent form, ” Dr. Hopper handed me a pen.

[ WP ] You have synesthesia and you work in an art gallery

I like my job. I mean, that ’ s something. And it ’ s not like I chose it BEACAUSE I ’ m synesthetic. At least I think so. I just really like art. So I became a guide in art gallery. But it ’ s not even THAT fun. We don ’ t have many original paintings, and I believe that copies don ’ t have the same sound as originals. I don ’ t know, maybe it ’ s just me. But you know that feeling when something you thought was original turns out to be a fraud? It ’ s just feels wrong. It looks the same, sure, but it doesn ’ t *feel* the same. And it also doesn ’ t sound the same. But we are getting off track here. So you might think that my favorite art would probably be modern art – you know, all those funny sounds, different tones, notes. But well, it does not sound like dubstep. It ’ s just a mess of weird, unrecognizable sounds. Although I really do like Pollock ’ s *Mural*. Those swirls are great, like musical stave. They guide you to different scales, and sounds that yellow and that funny green of his make – oh God, beautiful symphony. A bit like Beethoven ’ s Moonlight Sonata. Bottom is more like second part, and the more you move to top the more of third movement can be heard. Same with Van Gogh ’ s Starry Night. The sky is like Summer from Four Seasons of Vivaldi, with stars and moon being Presto. Cyprus tree is spring – but the calm one. There ’ s not really much to the village, I must admit. A bit of Autumn ’ s Largo. And the middle is hard. That swirl right there – very difficult to compare. I wouldn ’ t say it ’ s the best part ( I personally prefer the rest of sky ). It kind of mixes up Largo of Autumn and Presto of Summer – it ’ s ok, but could be better. I very much prefer older paintings, especially Rococo and Renaissance. I bet everyone wants to know how Mona Lisa sounds like – and I must say nothing extraordinary. The painting and colors are rather calm, nothing dynamic over there. And it hurts the music. It sounds like sea. Waves are lazy and slow, they don ’ t really clash but kind of dab the shore. But Rococo, that ’ s different story. Let ’ s take The Swing by Fragonard. The woman in the center is just a full orchestra, playing in perfect harmony one of fastest arrangement of Dance of the Hours by Amilcare Ponchielli I ’ ve ever heard. But there are no clash cymbals. I could go on and on with this, but let ’ s cut it short. I also hear buildings, tough they are rather low pitched. And I got used to it, so there ’ s nothing to describe. I only work one way – so I don ’ t see colors while hearing sounds. And also, I do not paint. I can ’ t paint. I mean, I can, but then the sounds are terrible, and I feel terrible. And if the sounds are nice, then the whole composition and coloring is hell. So I don ’ t do art. But I like it. ______ No synesthesia whatsover, just wanted to have a go at imagining it. Also, it does differate a bit from normal synesthesia from what I know. But he kind of fits the description, so here you go!

[ WP ] Our universe is constantly expanding . Until one day , it collides with something else .

We called it Bahamut. The 21st century was an exciting time for physics after gravity waves and general relativity were proved valid. An entire new cosmological arena was opened to the realm of observation, leading to incredible realizations about the laws of nature guiding the universe. Then it happened. A distortion in space-time so great that the average flicker of a laser could do no justice in measuring its wake. The relativistic affects of the wave were so great that they could just barely be perceived on a tangible level as a sort of *sudden suspension* in the days events. Passengers on a train reported seeing traffic freeze in the middle of a highway and people in their cars on the same highway turned in shock as the bullet train came to a sudden halt and continued as if nothing had happened. Air traffic control personnel were admitted to psychiatric wards after seeing planes appear to pause mid-flight. The whole world bent as the ripple in space-time phased through the inner solar system. It took years to compile the data and seemingly endless hours of calculations by researchers to produce the reason for the sudden space-time quake, as it came to be called. Our universe had collided with another object, but what was this object? It's mass was beyond that of the observable universe, unlike anything imagined in the realm of reality. Its presence was determined to be separate from the observable universe, thermodynamics would fall apart otherwise. But the most profound discovery of this entire incident was the effect of the collision upon our own universe. Expansion had been reversed. Our universe was collapsing at an increasing rate beyond anything we could've imagined. Our conservative estimates placed us at having no more than 1000 years before our own area of space time was ripped asunder. Our foundation was at a loss at what to do, but one thing is certain. Bahamut is coming.

[ WP ] You find a genie in a bottle , in the house of the person who just murdered your family .

The man had appeared out of nowhere. He was wearing a tuxedo, like some fancy butler, but his skin was a dark blue and his eyes glowed gold. I stayed low on the ground, unsure of what to do. The dusty house was still empty except for me and this blue man. I had escaped barely with my life. The killer had made his rounds in my house, as if haunted, his eyes hollow and evil. I had recognized him as our gardener, Joseph. But just barely. He no longer had the fat, unattractive frame. He was well muscled. Only that dirty mustache and his general facial structure gave him away. The formerly placid and nice man had gone room to room, slaughtering everyone. I still shuddered as I heard my mom's scream in my memory. I started sobbing uncontrollably. When I recovered, the man was still there. Was I hallucinating? The man watched me. `` What... who are you?'' I asked carefully. The man tilted his head. `` I am a djinn. You freed me.'' He pointed at the ground. I looked. It was an old Coca-Cola bottle. What? `` I can grant you three wishes. Make it quick human.'' I did n't hesitate. `` I wish my family was back.'' The djinn laughed. `` I can not bring the dead back. Ask me for something else.'' I sat there, thinking. I did n't really want anything else. I wanted my mom back. My dad... I started crying again, managing not to wail. I did n't want to attract Joseph's attention. The djinn patiently waited me out. When I was done, it repeated itself. `` Ask me for something else.'' `` I want Joseph, the man who killed my family, to die.'' I felt a chill run down my spine as I said it, but I did n't regret it. `` Done.'' I really could n't think of anymore. My family was well liked, my father a famous mystery writer and my mother a famous piano player. Though they were gone, their wealth was still there, I guiltily thought, and I could n't really want for anything else. I felt tears well up, so I said, `` My second wish is to be at peace.'' `` Done.'' Now I really could n't think of anything else. So instead, I asked, `` Why were you in this house? Did you grant Joseph three wishes too?'' `` Is it a wish for me to answer that question, little human?'' `` Do I have to make it a wish?'' The djinn laughed. `` No. I will tell you freely. I do not know why I am in this house. I am not conscious of the outside world when I am in my bottle. And yes, I did grant Joseph three wishes.'' `` What did he wish for?'' `` The answer to that, you have to make make a wish for. Technically I ca n't give out information of a previous master unless compelled to do so.'' `` Then I wish you would tell me word for word what Joseph wished for from you, and how you granted it.'' The djinn flashed his teeth, and I noticed for the first time that they were serrated. `` He first wished to have an attractive body. I molded his fat so that it looked like trimmed muscle. He then wished for a'cooler' home. He did not specify his own. I chilled my bottle. His last wish was to be famous. So I made him kill the most famous people in the area.'' My eyes widened. `` You killed my family.'' `` I simply provided my former master the means for his wish to be fulfilled. How I achieved it is irrelevant. Now I must fulfill your wishes.'' I frowned. This djinn was a tricky djinn. I thought hard about my wishes. First, I wanted Joseph to be dead. Second, I wanted to be at peace. The revving of an engine could be heard outside. I gasped. The djinn disappeared into the bottle, his evil cackling echoing in the empty room. A gardener's pickup truck smashed through the wall, and the instant before it hit me I could see the empty face of Joseph behind the wheel.

[ WP ] You find out you were kidnapped as a child by your `` parents '' from a wealthy family .

Hey I'm Jennifer, a I9 years old, high school Girl. Life was going great, my parents loves me a lot, I'm very happy. Mom and Dad supports me every time. I do n't hide anything to my Dad not even my personal life. It's my pleasure to have the best parents in the world. But everything's turned upside down, when I found a mysterious wooden chest in store room. A chest that makes me unstable, stunned for a while. Earlier I thought my grandparents left this chest, I can found some old stamps for my collection in the chest. but I found some fake stamps and rough documents, the fake documents of my birth some are only half printed. I ca n't understand what the hell is this, I want to ask my parents what is this, is everything's fine or any trouble with my birth? I want to know, but I could n't, I could n't because I was scared! If is that all real! then what will I do? I love my parents but if all this is true....? Then I hit the chords, I collect my mom's hair from the comb. And give to DNA analysis. I know it's wrong, but I want the correct answer of this confusion. When the report was in my hand, I do n't have courage to open that report. I cried, I cried a lot, yes my parents are not my parents. Then who is my real parents? I have to ask, but who knows who is my real parents? only my current parents. Now the last path is to ask my parents. When I entered home, `` Welcome home honey'' ( mom welcomes me ) I went to my mom `` Hey Mom, I am adopted?'' Mom suddenly said `` what?'' `` I am ado..'' ( I said ) `` Oh sorry honey I forget to buy the milk can you go to market for that?'' ( Mom said in the middle ) `` Ok'' then I go to market. when I reach Home my father was their I think mom called him. `` Who said you honey that you are adopted?'' ( Dad said ) `` I know, I'm not your child, I found that old chest in store, and I also check up the DNA of mom with me and its negative. so, that means that I am adopted. Who are my real parents? why you never told me?'' The room is filled with silence, I asked many times but no they not telling me a single word. The silence tells my answer, I ran towards the room with tears in my eyes, and locked the door. After a while Dad knocked door and said `` sorry honey we wanted to tell you but we could n't because of fear of you getting hurt''. `` If you are not my parents then who are my parents? I want the answer Daddy please tell me I want to know!'' ( I said ) `` I will tell you but promise me you will not leave us?'' `` ok promise but who are my parents'' and I opens the Door. And then Daddy tells me Everything how I am kidnapped from the hospital and they do n't know who was my parents at that time. when they kidnap me then they know who is my real parents. And tells me the name of my parents. I know them, we all knows them, I'm famous Bill Gates daughter.

[ WP ] A man is sitting on a park bench at night . There 's half a foot of snow on the ground and more snow falling . Only his footprints are in the snow . As he stares across the park he hears approaching footsteps in the snow but he does n't turn around . Someone taps him on his shoulder .

Joseph had no where else to go. He'd have to stay under the overpass and hope. His Daughter in Law was a bitch, and had kicked him out, on Christmas eve no less. The snow was falling, he would n't make it to the overpass in time. He simply sat down and tried to fall asleep. He heard footsteps, but ignored them, likely it was just some couple. Someone tapped on the shoulder, then proceeded to sit on the bench next to him. `` What do you want stranger?'' he said. The person was wearing a hoody, and took it off, revealing his son. `` Come back to the house dad, you'll freeze to death out here!''. The old man replied back, `` Your wife does n't want me there, she only wants her own family to be there, not yours.'' The son replied back `` I am not going to let my soon to be ex-wife throw my father out on Christmas Eve. Any women who does that is not deserving of my attention.'' The son helped his father back up and lead him to his car.

[ WP ] The most saddest love story you can ever think of

As long as I could remember, my mom reminded me of how much she just knew that my father was `` the one'' as soon as she laid eyes on him and he would beam with pride any time the two of them would tell the story of how they met. It was the summer after they had both graduated high school and they showed up at a party a mutual friend was hosting. He with his long-time high school sweetheart, and she with her best girl friend. Their eyes met as my mom walked into the room and he could not keep his eyes off of her. Since my father was in a relationship at the time, he brushed it off as a sort of wanting what he ca n't have feeling. Not too long after that, my father found himself single and started pestering their mutual friend for my mom's name. No longer than two months after they first laid eyes on each other, they were dating. Inseparable. Perfect. Happy. My parents married after only four months of dating and were very happy, even after three kids in a little over four years. That is, until my father became ill with cancer of the lungs. Only months after his diagnosis, he died, painfully. I do n't remember much as I was just 10-years-old at the time, but I do remember that my mother never recovered. She has n't been the same since, but she retells stories of her late husband and her eyes light up with such happiness. It was only natural that I assumed this is what I was too expect from love. And I found it -- that love that just grasps your every sense. Mark and I were set up on a blind date through a mutual friend. He was new in town and I was single for the first time in almost a decade... I had clung onto my high school sweetheart just long enough to last through college without the drunken one night stands and graduate before parting our separate ways. When I first saw Mark, I was taken back by how good looking he was. Thick, dark hair waved ever-so-slightly to the left side of his face. Piercing green eyes that were intense, yet contrasting with his kind and gentle smile. On top of that, he was dressed in a casual t-shirt that hugged his toned arms and light blue jeans that hung from his hips, draping his lower body in mystery. Meeting Mark made me believe that what my mom and dad had said was true. About how you just know when you've met the one. Mark and I have spent every waking moment together outside of work, which was a good thing since we are expecting our first baby within the next two months. I often find myself staring at my left ring finger, just waiting for there to be something shiny and metallic dangling from it soon enough, but I can wait. This is true love, anyway, and with a baby on the way, we have more important things to spend out money on. ... Not done yet. I'll be back!

[ WP ] A man is standing on the edge of a bridge , about to jump . A crowd of curious onlookers has gathered around him , with many trying to talk him out of it . The remains silent but finally speaks , saying only five words . The entire crowd immediately jumps off the bridge .

The location alone expressed the man ’ s intentions for he was calm, perhaps even contented. On the other side of the barrier was not easily accessible. He wore a lab coat. 'Think about your friends and family' yelled one women. Her voice cracked halfway through. The man barely stirred. That he had n't jumped suggested he had not already made up his mind. This gave the crowd hope. Little did they know he had seen it coming for a long time now. Unlike them he had had the time to mull it over. Without a bridge to jump from in his office he had made do with dry retching. 'What is there in this world that could make you feel this way?' The man raised his hand slowly and spoke. Look up to the sky.

You discover your superpower as you 're being attacked . What happens next ? [ WP ]

Cold and Dark. The night was one of those nights that inhibited paranoia. As I walked I looked back and swore I saw someone following me but I could n't tell, I could n't quite see. I hurried my pace to the bus stop realizing I may just be scaring myself. Then I heard foot steps and looked back and saw two men speaking to each other while walking behind me. I saw the bus stop a few blocks ahead and thought the broken street lights seemed to be on their side. I thought I had made it, I thought they were farther back. I felt someone grab my shoulder with such force that let me instantly know they were n't going to tell me I had dropped something. I turned quickly my breath already becoming rushed, hands shaky with the sudden instant surge of adrenaline. `` Give me your fuckin wallet'' The smaller man said in a hurry. For a second I thought it weird that in his life I am impeding him. I was frozen in fear and the big man without warning punched me straight in the stomach, I bent over and he pushed me down on the sidewalk. I felt hands going in my pockets and grabbing my phone and wallet. More kicks, more pain and the fear of it getting worse. I heard one of them say `` Your name is Kristoff, Ha, what a stupid name'' They had what they wanted but still they kept beating, then an unfortunate kick to my head that sent the world ringing and my thoughts escaped me. I felt as if someone else was there for a second, as if someone else was standing over me. And then the yell, a type of scream I've never heard before. Pain mixed with horror and splash of surprise. I opened my black and bruised eyes and was not prepared for what I saw. The big man lay on the floor with a leg missing, blood wetting the sidewalk. And all I could think of was how can it be that bright if its so dark. I stood up confused and still fearful. The small man had pulled his gun and was pointing it at me. But I had not done this, I was on the floor weak and defenseless... why fear me. `` Do n't move you asshole look what you did to Tim'' the small man said. `` I, I, I'' I could n't even speak as I raised my trembling hands. Whatever the small man saw he saw it coming for him and shot at me. BANG! the gun shot rang but strangely it seemed muffled compared to the beating I had just withstood. I saw something around me, a blur of a kind, a form that you can never really be sure you've seen. And nothing hit me, I looked up and saw the small man standing there with his gun pointed at me. And in the darkness i realized the morbid reality. His had been picked right off. Next to him it lay with the look of surprise still upon it. I did the only thing I could do, I ran. I ran past the bus stop as thoughts ran through my head. Thoughts of my child hood and bullies being pulled out of school for being strangely bruised. My step father dieing so suddenly in his sleep. All of them harming me, all of them using me to relieve their pains in life. What am I that could have done that? What am I assuming could have happened? What am I?

[ WP ] You are a retired assassin . The only thing you want is to die . Keeping you from this is the fulfillment of your last contract : A celebrated performer paid you to kill him if he ever tried to make a `` comeback '' as an old man . After years in retirement , the performer announces a world tour .

( First prompt response. Getting back into writing after too long! ) Assassins do n't retire. They stop killing and die, or they die because they do n't stop killing. At forty five I felt at least ninety, so I imagined a peaceful retirement for myself and made it happen. Got a cabin in the woods, a companion in a dog named Rust, and all the time in the world. I lived off the land for six months before I realized I could n't stand living anymore. Most of the people I had killed deserved it. But most is n't all, and the ones that did n't deserve it kept showing up when I was sleeping. And then I started seeing them when I was n't. Endless leisure time was suddenly far too much. Everything was in order. Affairs settled, belongings given away, Rust with a new owner. All that was left to do was die. As it turns out though, killing other people is easier than killing yourself. A bullet in the brain always seemed the easiest way to go, but I just could n't get it done this time. The evening I decided to stop living was the evening I got the worst news of my life. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, my rifle my only company, when someone knocked on the door. I looked at the gun and laughed. Maybe it was a higher power sending a messenger to tell me to live. `` Ven? Ven, you home?'' It was n't a holy messenger. Just Sid, a local fur trapper. `` Yeah,'' I shouted. Death would have to wait. Sid was a tall shadow, the setting sun turning him into a silhouette that filled up the doorway. `` Glad I caught you. A lady in town told me to give this to you. Said it was real important,'' Sid said. He stepped in and handed me a sealed envelope. `` A lady?'' I asked before I saw the delicate shape of a bird in flight embossed on the wax seal. He was telling me about the woman, but I only caught a few words. *Young. Pretty. Scary. * I could only focus on the seal and what it had to mean. Evaline, Sid's scary but young and pretty lady in town, knew that I was n't taking any new jobs. That could only mean one thing. Not everything was settled after all. One piece of unfinished business was coming to collect. `` You'll never believe this,'' Sid was saying. `` Moonstone is touring again. *Moonie! * I thought he was dead.'' Yeah, me too. I cracked the seal. *Your debt is due* was written in Evaline's precise script. The novice assassin had never been overly fond of words. If I had somehow forgotten about the debt, Sid was telling me everything I needed to know. He was going on about how Moonstone, the once famous and eccetric cellist and singer, was making what some were calling a `` comeback'' by dragging out his dusty cello and playing the old songs people had loved twenty years ago. Rumor had it that he was going to debut a few new songs along the way. It was n't the has-been's music that mattered, but the signed contract I still had with him. In a locked box on the bottom of the trunk in my bedroom sat the paper that Moonie had drawn up for me in his prime. It was a simple request made by a man who had the foresight to understand that his fame could be fleeting, and that one day he might make the mistake of trying to reclaim it. `` The old man made me promise to never let him do this,'' I said, interrupting Sid's gossip. It might have been the sudden comment that made Sid look concerned, but it was probably the vulpine smile I was giving the note. Death could wait, indeed. `` Hey, Sid? I was going to ask you tomorrow, but it's been lonely around here without Rust. Mind if I take the old guy back?''

[ CW ] Write a story that consists only of monosyllabic words .

Tell a tale with just one word a pace? I'd be glad to. I wore a mask to see the truth. A robe of love to see the lust. I took a chance to pass to you, this prose and wealth to dry and rust. I lead my hand with gold and spoke, a pen with led is sure to bust. I tossed a word at you, ball it, drop it in the bin you must. So you cant but help to choose from two, so pick your pick but to be true, you and only you could choose the truth and see, will is only free if what you choose is picked by you not me.

[ WP ] Write a story of revenge between two men during the early Victorian era with a twist .

Newell watched with interest as the rat before him began to cringe. It was the fourth one he'd poisoned this month alone, and it seemed that this one would meet its end as well. He felt a hint of sympathy for the poor thing as it lay there, twitching; it could have been him taking those shuddering last breaths. With a heavy sigh, he draped a cloth over the rat's cage. His morbid curiosity had left him suddenly, and in its place he felt a faint sort of nausea. Aaron Powlett, he knew, would not stop the attempts on his life unless things changed. And while Newell had a fine nose, he considered an eventual failure on his part inevitable; detecting poison in tea by its scent alone was no accurate science, and he was loathe to test each sip and bite on one of his laboratory rats. If he had any interest in regaining his living standards, he had no choice but to talk to Powlett. The conversation would definitely be a disastrous mess of unease and lacking direction, but with luck, Powlett would agree to stop. He shrugged on his coat with determination. On the way out, he found a bouquet of flowers in the hall, bearing a blank card. Newell did not even consider that they might be non-poisonous, and jotted down a quick warning on the card - he did n't fancy his maid being killed by them. With a promise to himself to burn the bouquet at his return, he made his way towards the Powlett residence. It was not a long walk, not long enough to develop regrets anyway. After a knock and a short wait, he was admitted by the valet who looked at him with wide eyes. As they waited in the lounge for the man of the house, the valet gave a quiet cough. `` I was not expecting to see you again, Mr. Roan,'' he said. Newell did n't mind the breach of etiquette and responded in a tone belying his nervousness: `` I had not planned on it either, but circumstances- ” He stopped speaking the moment ‘ circumstances ’ entered the room. Aaron Powlett, dressed in a smart suit, had halted in his way just shortly after stepping through the door frame. He was obviously investing a lot of care into a neutral expression, but the strained muscles of his jaw as well as his rigid posture made his fear quite clear, at least to those who knew him as well as Newell. “ Leave us, ” he told the Valet, for all the world looking like he wanted to accompany him. The servant hurried off and a heavy silence settled. Aaron opened his mouth as if to speak, but ended up biting his lower lip instead. His gaze kept flickering towards the door. This was not the behavior Newell had hoped for, but it was the one he ’ d expected. He saw himself forced to be the first to talk. “ You ’ ve been trying to murder me, ” he said, attempting a casual tone. Silence. “ Let me be frank. I ’ m tired of fearing for my life. I came here with the intent to resolve the situation, once and for all. ” Silence. “ Aaron. ” At that, the man looked up, for the first time meeting Newell ’ s eyes. He had begun to tremble. “ Newell, ” he whispered, taking a clumsy step forward. “ I didn ’ t mean to hurt you, I just- ” “ Tried to avoid me by having me killed, ” Newell interrupted. “ I know. Now... I was… am not averse to your affections. I ask you to accept them as well, as is only fair. Your denial has hurt me physically, and in other ways. I do not deserve to be punished for your emotions. ” For a moment, Aaron looked like he would understand. His brow was wrinkled in confusion, and he was muttering to himself quietly as if deeply in thought. Then Newell took a step towards him, and all turned around. “ You, ” Aaron suddenly snarled, crowding against him, pushing him back, back against the wall. “ You only have yourself to blame. Had you not bewitched me, I ’ d never have seen fit to send for your death. But you, you have ruined me! ” They were breathing hard, and only inches apart. Newell closed his eyes in anticipation of a blow. What followed instead was the gentle weight of Aaron crumbling against him. Newell felt arms encircle his neck instead of the choking hands he had expected and the wetness of tears met his cheek. It was utterly surreal, and Newell did not respond, simply let Aaron sob against him in the most undignified way. The man was muttering something. It was muffled by fabric and tears, but it sounded important; Aaron appeared to be repeating it over and over again. After some time, Newell carefully pried his former friend ’ s hands off of him. He didn ’ t let them go when pushing Aaron away, and Aaron made no move to resist his grasp. Instead, he finally stopped muttering and looked at Newell with a gaze of some clarity, if bright with tears. “ I knew I had lost to your curse, ” he said softly. “ I knew there was no going back, so I attempted to avenge myself. But the devil was always going to win, and you did. Your curse has wrecked me. I surrender. ” Newell felt nauseated. He dropped Aaron ’ s hands. “ And yet, ” he choked, “ And yet it seems that these mere words have defeated me. ” He took a step back and swallowed heavily. “ If you consider me a devil, consider yourself freed of me. Please, refrain from any future attempts at revenge. I imagine they would not manage to surpass the blow you have dealt me in this moment. ” Aaron didn ’ t say a word, but his eyes were closed as if he was in pain. “ I shall take my leave now, ” Newell said. He exited quietly and never returned. -- - AN: I started writing this earlier in the day and was surprised to see the same `` twist'' in another story before I could post. I can only hope that my fill was different enough to seem original.

[ WP ] : One day , you find yourself uncontrollably jumping into the bodies of other versions of yourself .

`` As usual, there's nothing on TV,'' Aaron sighed as he navigated the guide menu. Having just got home after a double-shift from his catering job, all he wanted to do was lounge around and fall asleep. However, you ca n't just fall asleep with any old TV show playing in the back ground. Aaron lived by himself. He found roommates to be more bothersome than necessary, seeing as he worked enough to afford his own place. Speaking to no one in particular, Aaron said, `` This would n't be so bad if I had some... ... company.'' Aaron's girlfriend turned her head and looked at him. `` What about company?'' she asked. Aaron looked at her, confusion sweeping through his head. This was his girlfriend, he knew that. But he did n't have a girlfriend. Or, he did n't just seconds ago. He knew all about Nicole though. Ever since he went to watch the Arabian Nights play with his Aunt, where he met Nicole, he knew that they'd end up together. Except, he did n't go to the Arabian Nights play. `` Aaron... you okay?'' Nicole asked. `` You look confused.'' `` Uh, no, no, I'm alright.'' He brushed her hair away from her face. `` Just had a random thought.'' Nicole smiled. `` Okay!'' And she cuddled back into his arms. Aaron could n't understand what had happened? It was almost as if he just switched to a new universe. Having read comics, he was away of the idea of the multiverse, but never would have thought it was real! `` Baby?'' `` Yea?'' `` Do you remember when we first met?'' Nicole turned and looked at him, somewhat quizzically. `` Of course. I went to the Arabian Nights play with my mom, and you were there with your Aunt. Why?'' `` Nothing. I was just thinking about it and wondered if you remembered.'' `` Of course I do! You spilled ketchup on your shirt and your Aunt either did n't see it or did n't care to tell you. You looked adorable!'' Nicole went back to watching a re-run of Quantum Leap, but Aaron could n't focus. He knew this was n't him, but it was. He never went to the Arabian Nights play, but he did. Every other event he could think of was the same, it was only the Arabian Nights play that had two different memories. `` This is so... ... strange.'' `` What's strange Aaron?'' His mom asked. Aaron looked around. He was n't in his apartment anymore, but instead on his parent's couch. His mom and sister were sitting on the other couch. His apartment was gone, but he never had an apartment. His girlfriend was n't here, but why would she be, seeing as he did n't have one. `` Aaron?'' his mom asked again. `` Nothing. Just thinking.'' He did it again! he started thinking back. He did n't go to the Arabian Nights play. He went to Josh's house instead that night. But on the way home, after his dad came and picked him up, there was an accident. His dad passed away after a drunk driver ran a stop sign and t-boned their car. Aaron did n't have any injuries from the accident save for a few scrapes and bruises. His dad was gone. Sadness crept through his thoughts. He tried to continue thinking, seeing what had changed, but he could n't focus on anything else. His dad was gone. Dead for almost ten years, but he had been alive just a few minutes ago. He did n't want to do this anymore. It was nice seeing what his life was like with Nicole, but this was n't what he wanted. `` Mom?'' `` Something wrong Aaron?'' `` Not really. I was just thinking about... ... Dad.'' `` What?'' Aaron's Dad answered. Aaron looked up. He was outdoors, rifle in his hand, ragged clothes draped from his body, backpack filled with essential items on his back. `` What's going on?'' His dad looked at him with confusion. `` What do you mean?'' Aaron stopped and thought. What was different this time. He went through elementary school, but everything seemed normal. Junior high everything seemed normal there too. Except Josh. Josh set off a nuke. Not in middle school, but later. He was bullied all the time, but Aaron did n't stop them this time. Aaron stayed after school to flirt with Nicole instead of meeting Josh to ride bikes home. Josh got beat up real bad. He ended up switching schools, which he later ran away from. Aaron never heard from him again, until he was on the news. They talked about how he had broken into a military facility and launched a nuke. He killed his commanding officer and stole his credentials. They said that in his psych profiles, there was a red flag due to an event in middle school that may have contributed to him being pushed over the edge. Josh had started World War 3. `` I could have stopped it Dad.'' `` Stop what Aaron? You're starting to really confuse me. You know we ca n't be distracted out he- His Dad was cut off as bullets tore through his chest. `` NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'' Aaron ducked behind a tree and waited for the shooting to stop. After the very quick nuclear battle, nothing was left. People lived, but there was no more government, no more schools, no more businesses, no more countries... no more rules. Life had become hell. Everyone was in it for themselves. There were a few rumors that spoke of civilization, but they were always far enough away to seem to good to be true. The shooting died down and Aaron crawled over to his father. He was dead, again. But he had n't been dead before. This was the first time he died. `` I promise Dad,'' Aaron said through the tears. `` I'll do better next time. I'll be a good person.'' Aaron laid back against the tree. He did n't know how to make himself jump again. He thought about the fading memory of him laying on his own apartment couch. `` I just want to go back. I just want things to go back to the way they... ... were.'' Aaron sat up and looked around at his apartment. It seemed normal. He thought back. He did n't go to Arabian Nights. He did n't go to Josh's house. He stayed home that night. He met Josh after school, and they rode home together. Everything was back to normal. He laid back down and let out a long sigh. He was looking forward to going to sleep. His phone beeped. He picked it up and swiped his security pattern in. `` Is it cool if I come over? I need to vent man,'' Josh's text said. `` Yea, no problem,'' Aaron replied. Again, speaking to no one in particular, `` I hope I never do that... ... again.''

[ WP ] The hero got pulled form his ordinary high school life to save the Kingdom . He defeats the evil Emperor , Lych etc . and the good wizzard and pretty elven princess are eager to send him home again . The hero is having none of it . He wants his Kingdom .

I jump out of the circle just as it lights up and activates. I snarl and turn, `` What the hell?'' The wizard puts his hand sup in a placating manner, `` Calm now, please it is time for you to go home.'' The Elven princess gives a warm smile in my direction, `` I thank you for your efforts to save my kingdom, the people will always tell your tales of heroism and bravery.'' Normally this would calm me down, but I am too angry for reason. `` Yeah, see that's the problem. I save the world and just get sent home? Where's the kingdom's crown? You said I would be king!'' The Princess's morphs into a frown, `` I was hoping you'd forget that.'' I feel my magic bristle under my skin, `` Like hell I will, your father promised me the kingdom.'' `` My Father!'' the princess barks, with tears streaming down her face `` was a fool! He made that monster and now he chose to give away the crown to somebody else? What about me? I'm his child!'' I step back then sigh, `` I'm not budging.'' Her face turns into a scowl but I cut her off before she could interrupt me, `` But I can compromise.'' She pauses and nods, `` Very well, I will listen.'' I tilt my head and choose my words carefully, `` I would like my own land and castle, it does n't need to be too big just enough so a lot of people can live and work in it.'' The wizard tries to argue but the Princess stops him with a shake of her head, `` This is agreeable.'' I grunt, `` Then we have no problems'' As I walk away she calls for me, when I turn I am greeted by her hesitant face. She bows her head in apology, ``..Do you hate me?'' I sigh and give her a reassuring smile, `` No, just annoyed.'' She perks up and gives me a dazzling smile. `` Thank goodness!''

[ WP ] A PTSD support group for those who survive horror movie scenarios .

The chairs were all set up. The coffee was brewing, the nicotine-stained windows letting in the last light of sunset. Another meeting, thought Jason, and drew deeply from the first cigarette of his third pack of the day. The regular crowd shuffled in. Wan smiles, pale faces. Empty eyes. Recovery is a bitch. Easing his bulk down on the creaking plastic chair, arranging his feet on the linoleum tiles. it was easier than meeting their eyes. But it was time to start the meeting. `` My name is Jason,'' he said, and tried to ignore the perpetual dripping of his ragged garb, the itchy empty place on his belt where the machete should've hung. `` And I'm a murderholic.'' `` Welcome, Jason,'' came the sussurus of the voices of the damned. ( did it backwards, sounded more fun that way )

[ WP ] Darth Vader 's imperial fleet encounters a new planet , 2015 A.D. Earth .

It is now 2095 by the Earth calendar, my grandfather was alive and only 21 almost 22 when the Galactic Empire came in contact with Earth. This what the story he told me: When I was 21, just a few weeks shy of 22, the Empire had discovered Earth. This caused quite the stir as, we did n't know there was other life beyond our own planet or not. Since humans were the dominate species of earth, we were n't treated as `` harsh'' as some of the other planets in the Galactic Empire. Because of this contact, technology of Earth started to grow exponentially and allowed us to explore the Milky Way which is only 4000 light years from the galaxy that the Empire came from. With the hyper drive technology that the Empire had in on board the Executor, the personal Super Star destroyer of Lord Vader, it allowed us to commence galactic trade with the Empire. But then everything started to change. After a few years, I just had my old student loan debts forgiven and I had just graduated the new Imperial Naval Officer school on Earth so I was about 25 or 26 at the time, I noticed that a few of my friends from my hometown had gone missing. I questioned my parent's about their disappearance and they told me that my friends had decided to join the rebels on the far side of our own galaxy to fight the so called `` oppression'' of the Empire. I could not believe what I had heard. Friends, I had since I was a child long before the Empire came in contact with Earth, had decided to side with the rebels. I no longer could call them my friends. I went before Lord Vader and asked his permission to track and hunt down the rebels as an off the record, that I once called my friends. He looked down at me, as I was on my knee, and he said `` That I may track them down and kill them, then I will start my new training.'' For he saw something in me that he did not notice before. I then went to my own personal ship, which was given to me by the Empire for graduating in the top 10 of my class and in the record time that I had done so. The ship was named the Shi no Megami, a name I had selected from the Japanese I had learned while in my spare time, it meant Death Goddess. A goddess of death she was. She was outfitted with latest small craft hyper drive system that allowed for travel across the Milky way in a single week, four gun turrets all operable from the cockpit or by a person in the turrets, three missile bays to carry nuclear arms, 2 new generation heavy defense guns on each side only operable from the cockpit, and cloaking. When I got in the cockpit I noticed an old friend, from my time in the Naval Officer school, and lover sitting in the co-pilot seat, Megana Tami. I did n't even try and argue with the woman, she was as stubborn as I was. She only asked me what I was planning on doing as we were starting to do all the checks before leaving the Executors hangar. When I told her, all she could say was `` Oh. Well, good thing I'm still coming with. Who else would make sure you eat and keep your bed warm for you?'' I could n't tell if she was serious or joking about that last part, but I did n't care. I replied with `` Do you have permission to go on leave?'' `` Yes, I do. Lord Vader asked me personally to help you and I brought a fire team with me. From a new program between the Earth and the Empire to help create better storm troopers. You remember the video game series Halo and the backstory behind their spartan programs?'' said Tami. `` Yeah, I do. Which version of the spartan program are we talking though? 2, 3, or 4?'' `` Why else but 4. The cheapest and best way to make a super soldier, but still make sure they have humanity left in them.'' `` So, we have a fire team for pseudo-Spartans on board. Three nukes, and a ship that was outfitted with the best tech that the Empire could make that was given to me as a graduation prize for being in the top 10. This will be a fun journey.'' We had just finished the final piece of the check, and had gotten permission to leave the Executor then we hit light speed to the last known location of a rebel outpost in the Milky Way. It took us about a week to get there and in that time I gotten to know the Storm Spartans, as I have taken to calling them and they seem to like the name as well. Their leader, was named Jackson Cameron, a black man who originally stood probably at 6 feet 4 inches, but now stood closer to 6 feet 9 inches thanks in part of the Spartan 4 like program he went through. Their second in command was someone I knew quite well and did n't know he had joined the Imperial army and went through the program, my cousin, Will. He originally was 6 feet 8 inches, now he stood at a height of 7 feet. Then there was Yamamoto, a Japanese fellow who probably stood at 5 feet 9 inches, is now 6 feet 2 inches. He does n't say too much, but he and I can carry a conversation in Japanese. Then the medic and sniper of the team, a member of the Galactic Empire since her birth, Jun Katren. She might have stood at 4 feet 10 inches before the Spartan 4esque program, but now she stood at my height of 6 feet. The biggest leap of all of them from what I gather, because her nickname is Runt. When we finally get our destination, the edge of the system where the outpost is, we start a scan to see if we can pick up any thing. Then we decide to head to the only planet in the system that we know had to have the outpost on it, Mandas 4. A planet that is in habitable zone for system. When we arrive we find that the rebels were on the planet but not for sometime. But we were able to find a record of where they might be heading. So we started our great chase across the galaxy hoping to nail my one time called friends. It took us 5 Earth months to find them, and the rebel base in the Milky Way. The rebels were smart, they decided to set up their base in an asteroid field. I slowly navigated the asteroid field, and once able I put the Megami just outside of their sensor range and in a safe zone where no asteroids where noted to go into, even with our cloak it felt better to not run the risk of being detected. It took us four weeks to discover this zone. Between the four Spartans, Megana, and I we were able to finally able to find the best place to sit and watch the base for a while longer, and to wait for the opportune time to strike. The chance came when Megana and I were in bed, my cousin came and told me that he had found a perfect moment to strike. I told `` Okay, get everyone to the hologram projector.'' When everyone was assembled, Will turned on the projector and showed us what he had found. `` A window, of only 3 minutes. This is how long their sensors are down for hourly repairs. We can use those three minutes, slip in and start destroying this base and *you*,'' pointing a finger at me `` can find your old'friends' and kill them.'' `` Okay this is good. Once we are finished with killing all the personnel in the base, we can fire one of the three nukes we have at the base and thoroughly destroy it. Sound like a plan to everyone?'' They all agreed. And at the next time the sensors went down, we slipped in. We able to slip in and start reeking havoc. I quickly found my old `` friends'' and then they tried to talk to me about why the joined the rebellion. I would n't have any of it, I quickly killed them all. Once finished we launched a nuke into the base. We went back to Earth, and found Lord Vader was still there in the Executor. When I reported back in, he asked me how it felt to kill my friends. I replied that I felt anger at them and at myself, because I had a fear that I would lose other because of what I had done. He turned around and said, then my training has just begun. What he meant by that was, I was to be trained as a force wielder. Trained by him, so that I could better serve the Empire and the Emperor. He used my fear of losing Megana against me, the women I had grown to love when I had gone off and done what I did. After my training was complete, Vader left the system leaving behind me and several star destroyers. Not long after I learned that the Emperor was killed by Vader and Vader's son Luke Skywalker. I being in charge of the Milky Way galaxy while Vader was away, sent an envoy to the victorious rebels and told them I would surrender peacefully if I was allowed to keep my station at the Milky Way until things could get settled and a new republic would be built. They graciously allowed me to do so, and as soon as the New Republic was up and running I was asked to be the senator for the Earth. I graciously declined saying that a different person should be the senator, not someone who was an old Imperial Naval Officer. Your grandmother, Megana, and I, after the Earth had joined the New Republic, soon left Earth to find some distant planet to settle on and start our own family. What felt not too long after all that, you our eldest grandchild, came into our lives. I held onto the Shi no Megami, and maintained her until I gave her to your father, who will give it to you. That is the story that my grandfather had told me almost every time I saw him. I was captivated by it, even when I grew older. I still have the Megami, I got it when my father passed unexpectedly from a problem that no one knew of until it was too late. I have updated her, and made sure she was keeping up with the times. She's still a good ship, even keeps up with my forced enhanced reflexes. I am thankful for Vader discovering Earth, because otherwise I would n't be from a family of force users like I am.

[ WP ] 10 years ago a being that looked human appeared in every television , every phone and every computer saying he would return one day to painfully kill anyone who committed murder , abuse or rape . Tomorrow is that day . How is society preparing ?

Seeking constructive criticism! . . . **This is a Public Announcement: `` There are 6 hours remaining until the city wide curfew comes into action. All citizens must be inside by 18.00 hours. Any persons caught violating the curfew will be arrested and brought into custody until the curfew is lifted. Your normal programming will now resume''. ** `` Mum, it's ridiculous! They ca n't just stop ordinary people from going outside - that's protecting the criminals, and doing nothing to help society. Why should n't the vigilante kill the murderers, and the rapists? I ca n't believe you're in support of the curfew!'' `` It's for the best, Susan. They ca n't keep people safe unless they keep people off the streets. The curfew will be sticking - and you'll be sticking to it too young lady! You're only 16, and I do n't care if you can vote now, you are not going out tomorrow! That's the final word young lady, and I wo n't hear any more about it.'' 'I ca n't believe she's being such a bitch', Susan later whispered down the phone to her friend. `` It's so unfair! Everyone is going to Jordan's party tomorrow and I ca n't go!'' `` You'll just have to sneak out, Suze, there's no other way. All the boys are gon na be there, and just coz your mums being a dick about it does n't mean you should n't have a good night.'' `` Yeah I know, Vicky, it's just really annoying. Quick, I've got to go, Marilyn Jeffries is going to be doing her interview and I do n't want to miss it. I'll text you later okay. Bye!'' `` Bye!'' . `` The city wide curfew came into effect one month ago today, and whilst tomorrow marks the 10 year anniversary of the anarchist threats, tonight on Newsnight our show is not about tomorrows anticipated events. Instead, we have a young politician whose party has risen above both Conservative and Labour leaders in most recent polls. The Young Liberals are a party that have sprung up during the increase in fear over the vigilantes return. They vehemently oppose the government imposed city wide curfew, with 27-year-old party leader Marilyn Jeffries saying the curfew should be lifted immediately, as it only protects those who put the city at risk. Calling it a waste of tax payers money, she calls not only for the abolition of the curfew, but a complete overhaul of the current political system. Support for the party has increased in the lead up to next months general election. The Young Liberals Party has managed to gain support from the younger generation, the new voters who until now had seemed mostly apathetic when it came to politics. In the 2015 general election, only 19 % of 16-24 year-olds registered to vote, under half the number of registered young voters in the previous elections, despite the 2014 decision to lower the voting age to 16, with hopes of encouraging young voters. With numbers again expected to drop in these elections, the increase came as a surprise to both our current government and its shadow cabinet. With 87 % of young people already registered to vote next month, it looks like the curfew might be on it's way out. Here to talk with us today is party leader Marilyn Jeffries. Ms Jeffries, thank you for coming in today'' `` My pleasure, Jeremy. Thank you for having me on the show, and thanks for quite an introduction.'' `` So, Ms Jeffries, your party stands to not only dissolve the curfew, but also to begin an overhaul on the current government practice. Your critics say that the current government saved the country from financial ruin, reducing unemployment and enforcing a drop in crime levels. To be blunt, why fix something that is n't broken?'' `` I applaud the government for their financial success, I really do. However, I ca n't agree that it still is n't a broken system. Yes, they may have solved the problems, but they also caused them. They allowed for banks to destroy the economy, they overlooked flaws in the NHS, in the education systems. They allowed for a system of bribery and favours. The government is supposed to be for the people, not for personal gain. We do n't need career politicians or lords with no real idea of hardship. We ca n't forget that these are the same people who cheated expenses and lied to cover their backs. This government is fake, and allows for greedy individuals to use power for selfish gain, and not for the good of the country. `` It might have been accepted before, but we are n't letting it go on. This is a time for change, not a time to cover up the mistakes of the past. We need to start again, moving on from the mistakes of those before us, learning from them, and never going back to where we were 10 years ago. There is a future to fight for, and that's exactly what I intend to do.'' **This is a Public Announcement: `` The city wide curfew is now in action. All citizens must now be inside. Any persons caught violating the curfew will be arrested and brought into custody until the curfew is lifted. Your normal programming will now resume''. **

[ WP ] Humans have five senses , while every other race/species has four

Sarah sat with her dog. She whispered soothing words into its ear, threw a toy for it to chase, gave it a treat, took it for a walk, where it sniffed the area where another dog had peed... but there's one thing she never did. In her Science class, Sarah had been told of a special technique that humans had that nothing else did. Touch. Just... touch. Simple physical sensation. Sarah thought this strange at first. How could an animal survive, let alone thrive, without being able to feel things? Why could humans feel while animals could n't? Sarah glanced at her dog. She rubbed her hand up and down its chocolate-colored coat. It felt good to Sarah, even if the dog did n't respond. She tried talking to the dog while she pet it, and the dog made cute noises. This was close enough for Sarah.

[ WP ] A new drug hits the clubbing scene - cheap , very addictive , a great high and seemingly safe .

Bruce eyed the giggling girls down the line with apprehension. Lucy in particular. Her miniskirt and bustier clung tightly to her frame. As dull as his fashion sense was, he could tell that they were new. He pulled his eyes away from her scantily clad form, feeling somewhat guilty. As their turn came up, it was Lucy that came forth before the rest of them, a strange smile spread across her pretty face. Bruce heaved a sigh and looked straight into her crazed blue eyes. `` I ca n't let you girls in tonight Lucy, not while you look like this'' The girls burst in a fit of high-pitched giggling again. There was something about it that was just off-putting, it just was n't the way laughter was supposed to sound. Lucy recovered first. `` Has the dress code changed or something? We could change right here if you want,'' she said seductively as she began loosening her bustier. `` Stop it, Lucy,'' Bruce said forcefully. `` You know why you ca n't come in tonight, it was in the papers this morning.'' `` We do n't read the *papers*, Bruce, we're not *old*,'' Lucy whined childishly. `` Now let us in!'' `` Have you had a look at yourself in the mirror recently then? You know what Lolliepops are doing to you. I know a lot of people have been raving about it but the law is the law. We're not letting any minors in and that's final!'' `` But Bruciee, I'm 28. You *know* that! I even have my ID on me!'' `` Not right now you're not, neither by my reckoning nor the cops. You look like you belong in a middle-school. Go home, lay off the Lolliepops and come back in a few months.'' It took some coaxing to get Lucy and the girls to leave. What irritated him most that they were not at all like this a year ago when he first met them. As beautiful and independent as they were, the youthful burst of energy and excitement Lolliepops gave them was too tempting. Now they were nothing more than annoying teenage brats both in mind and in body. To the world, Lolliepops were miracle drugs. Once, they were just a quick fix to inject some fun into a night out with friends. Now, they were being touted as the modern day fountain of youth. Bruce knew better. His childhood was in his past, and he had no desire to relive them. If everyone on Earth became a whiny teenager tomorrow. at least he would be there to deal with their bullshit.

[ WP ] You have n't cleaned your room & your mother is pissed , slapping you literally into next week . You discover you can time travel forward into the future but only through physical violence inflicted upon yourself by others . One day you decide to kill yourself .

In retrospect, I may have spent a little too long doing `` homework'' in my room instead of cleaning it, but I do n't think my mom was in the right to slap me across the face. Little more than 10 seconds after opening my door and going from relatively benign to intensely militant, my mother's hand was on a curved path straight towards my face. The feeling of flesh on flesh reverberated through my body, shaking me and sending a painful electric pulse through my skin. I instantly fell to my back from the force and my eyes slammed shut. When they opened, slowly and fluttery, I noticed it was darker outside than I remembered and that she was nowhere in sight. `` What the hell?...'' I assumed I blacked out, but I was n't even hit that hard. Instead, after checking my phone and realizing it was 12:04 on Sunday, December 11th, I realized that I had just traveled through time. Fighting an oncoming panic attack, I frantically started laying out all the possible causes of this time jump in my head. I was in my bed an hour after I normally fall asleep. The last time I remember was 6:46 PM on Wednesday, December 8th. My face is still red and I have the same clothes on as I did before. Impulsively, I darted out of bed and ran into my sister's room across the hall where she was in her bed, fast asleep. My hand shakily flipped her light switch, illuminating the room in a warm glow. `` The fuck, Andrew?! ``, she mumbled aggressively. A flurry of questions came out of my mouth somewhere along the lines of `` what day is it? ``, `` where was I for the past five days? ``, `` what should I do?''. `` Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill out and speak English please'', she responded, sitting up in her bed. `` Slap me in the face'', I commanded. `` No! I'm not gon-'' `` SLAP. ME. IN. THE. FACE.'' My sister's hand slowly moved up above her covers and lightly smacked my cheek. That familiar pulse rocked through my body as everything faded to black. Same bed, same clothes. I shook off the aftershocks quicker this time and checked my phone. 6:44 A.M., same day. My alarm went off in less than a minute anyways, so I got out of bed and ran downstairs. Shockingly, my sister had no memory of any incident and neither did my mother. I was just my normal self all week, apparently. So I got ready for a normal day at school and headed out the door on the way to my bus stop. All was well and good until actually boarding the bus. While climbing the stairs, my right foot slipped on the wet metal floor of the bus and my shin came crashing down on the hard metal. Dread flooded my heart as the shocking sensation washed over my body, and my eyes went shut. I lived like this up until time jumped 3 years later over the course of a month and I just could n't take the constant time jumping. Every single time a pain was ever inflicted on me, time would jump forward. The pain had to stop. I did not care what would happen next as long as I did n't feel this way anymore. I assumed pills would be the quickest and easiest way to do it. One night, after telling my family I loved them just enough so it would n't raise suspicion, I took a bottle of sleeping pills to my bed and swallowed them while bathing in my own tears. It took 5 minutes for me to cry myself to sleep, virtually exhausted from all the time jumps. I woke up to a notification on my phone from my mom's number in a pool of vomit in my own bed reading: `` Thought you could escape so easily? < 3'' The time? 6:47 PM, December 8th.

[ WP ] Describe a day in the life of Dwight Schrute , in a world where everyone else is also Dwight Schrute .

Dwight arose from his bed. He walked down stairs, he made his breakfast, and he sat at the finely crafted wooden dinner table. At his right, a cup of coffee. At his left, the news paper. The crossword puzzle was particularly interesting. `` Starts with L,'' was all that clue would give him. Twelve across was the slot. Ten letters was the length. Perplexion was Dwight's state of mind. Rarely did he come across a clue so difficult to decipher yet so easy to comprehend. So many words began with `` L'' - land, leprechaun, lentil, language... Loser, too. Oh, what a loser Dwight was, if he did consider it. He was the only one who considered this, though he did not believe this to be true. He believed that many found him to be a loser. So common was this thought that he sometimes found himself obsessed by it. Oh, dear. He had done it again. A nice, simple morning had become a lament for his fears and pains. How stupid he had to be to do this to himself so often! A distraction, that was what he needed. A fish, or a frog; a goblin shark, or an easy slog. Perhaps someone to talk to. `` Dorothy!'' Dwight called, trying to grab the attention of his wife, who must have still been upstairs. At that moment, an interdimensional traveller who had been surveying this planet realized that they observed a crazed man, for this lonesome individual, the only Dwight Schrute, and in fact the only being of any kind, on this strange planet of Earth, spoke to nothing but thin air. *** Disclaimer: The exact density of the air is not provided so as to avoid unnecessary debates over the application of a term used most generally in a relative sense. In this situation, it has been used as an idiom. Have mercy upon this writer.

[ WP ] The villain finally win and kills the protagonist . People around the world celebrate .

Our most glorious leader is dead. Our savior, our hero, our God is dead. What will we do without him? We loved him with all of hearts. While we mourn his passing the dog capitalist world rejoices. They move in to our land with ugly smiling faces freely handing out food and deviant foreign technology. Do they not know old way is best? That man must work the land for glorious leader? These foreigners say he was despot, an evil man, but we only see our hero who showed us a strict tough love that was best. Glorious leader was tricked and our mighty indestructible armies were duped. The enemy used most foul technology against our strong steel tanks. Guns that shot beams and tanks that float. Robot suits like imperial dog nation Japan so loves in their silly propagandist movies. They have no discipline or honor, only filthy capitalist tricks. Our majestic hero said that our human wave attacks would break coward enemy. We were like a wall of much strength and unity. They merely dropped shocking nets on us and captured us against our will. After taking capital they began their `` reeducation'' Laughing joyously in our faces and telling us we old joke upon the lips of the dog capitalists that rule the world. Long live the memory of supreme Lord Kim Ju-ea!

[ WP ] Your entire life has theme music . Every day up until now it has been upbeat and melodic , today you wake up and it is sad and ominous .

E minor? You've got to be kidding me. Today starts in E. Fucking. Minor? Of course I'm rattled! Do n't look at me like that. Stop it! You think I'm about to literally explode or something? No, I'm not. Come on, that's silly. It's fine, OK? I'm fine. I got it. ... But seriously, E minor?! It just so wrong. You know Janet's theme song? Like, when she walks into the room, and just seems to kill everyone's buzz, and then slowly your Song starts to modulate, and then it -- yeah, you know exactly what I'm talking about! I mean, do n't get me wrong, I feel bad for her, but she's just such a downer to be around. Anyway, that's exactly what this sounds like. This really sucks. Jeez, give me a I-IV-V day over this. Anything else, really. I've never had this happen before. Do you know anybody who's had something like this? I feel so anxious! Look here; I walk over to my wardrobe, I start to open it, and then there are these violins, trilling back and forth, getting louder and louder. I know there's nothing inside, but this music makes me worried about it anyway! You could n't even imagine. Wow. My Song has been like this for over two hours. If it was n't so fucking anxiety-inducing, I reckon I'd be bored out of my skull, that's how repetitive it is. Do you think I should go see a doctor? Yeah, I think that's a good idea too. I'll wait a couple more hours, and go to the clinic if it has n't modulated itself back into G major, or something. In the meantime, I should probably write down my symptoms. Do you have any staff paper on you? Thanks... See? Look at this, it's got all these sad intervals in it. 3 minor thirds in 3 measures! Unbelievable. The doctor says there's nothing he can do. I just have to wait for a while and hope it goes away. He gave me some volume-adjustment pills, but that stuff will make you so tired, and I still have to finish my project for tomorrow. I do n't know how I'm going to find the motivation to work on it though, with this melody playing. Yes, I know other people deal with this all the time, but I've never had this before. That's just not me. Not who I am. Just trust me, it really sucks. This is lasting forever. What an awful day. You of all people know that I'm not religious. But I honestly have half a mind to pray to The Composer right now. It's worth a shot right? If she really does exist, it ca n't hurt. If she'd even just change the key for a few minutes, that would be wonderful. Your grandmother prays right? Do you know her prayers? Or at least some of the lyrics?

[ WP ] You are a real magician who has made a living convincing the world you are the best illusionist alive . Recently , you performed a inexplicable trick and people are starting to catch on .

No one believes in real magic when it's staring them in the face. Gods and miracles, sure, you can believe in that. But as soon as someone sees real magic; the kind of magic that sparks through your bones and sets your blood alight, suddenly it doesn ’ t exist. Suddenly their brain has to find a rational explanation for whatever they just saw. A rabbit can ’ t just be pulled from a hat, there must have been a hole in the table. There's no way the assistant in the skimpy, sparkly suit just disappeared, she must have gone through a trap door. People only believed in the type of magic that seemed too impossible, too extreme. It ’ s how I made my living for so long. By selling magical shows under the guise of illusions. No one thought i was a real wizard. Four years of magical education just to spend it showing cheap, ‘ explainable ’ tricks to non-believers. It wasn ’ t much of a surprise when one day I snapped. Imagine you had a near never ending supply of magic at your fingertips - that you could create storms from thin air and topple countries, if the magical council didn ’ t have their wands stuck so far up their robbed asses - and you were reduced to sawing your assistant in half over and over and over again. On the night of my last show of the year, hundreds of people had lined up outside my theatre for hours to see the greatest illusionist alive. Backstage, I pulled a small lump of clay, and set it on one of the prop tables. It oozed and spat as I pointed my oak wand at it and muttered ‘ reformabit lutum ’, my face pinched in disgust. The clay began to rise and form, colouring and solidifying as my assistant ’ s naked shape grew from the lump. ‘ Go get dressed, ’ I said, stuffing my wand back into my robes, ‘ you're on in 5. ’ She jumped down from the table, careful not to get too close to me and scampered off to the changing room. Golems may have been disgusting, but they didn ’ t have to be paid and had no choice to obey their creator, which was the only reason I kept them around. I could hear the hear the excited babble of the audience as they trickled in and found their seats. Simple magic didn ’ t give me the same rush as it had when I had first started out, but hell if I was n't going to give them a show. I tacked a charming smile onto my face and stepped out onto the stage. *** ‘ Master, I don ’ t think the council will be happy about this, ’ my golem assistant said, careful to avoid my billowing robes as we rushed off stage. ‘ You don ’ t think I know that? ’ I snapped. I flicked my wand at her and she dissolved into a pile of clay that I hastily stuffed into one of my many pockets. The awe inspired whispers as I performed my final trick had grow into a full blown panic as the top half of the layered theatre seemed to realize that the bottom few hundred weren ’ t coming back. If only they knew how similar the spell to disappear and the spell for disintegration were. But they didn ’ t, and they would n't, as their puny, insignificant minds tried process what I had done. I stuffed as much as I could into my extendable robes and banished the rest of my things to a secret pocket dimension. I ’ d get them back when this had all blown over. If it ever did. One thing people seem to accept less than they did magic, was when someone accidentally murders half an audience of arguably innocent people. To my credit, they did die spectacularly. They ’ ll be cleaning that theatre of colourful human glitter for weeks. The council weren ’ t going to like this.

Need help with military units for my novel . [ OT ]

would it be classical heaven and hell or a modernized force? hell has plenty of literature on the legions ( a large unit of demons ) of hell ruled and commanded by the different dukes, duchesses, etc. it's pretty easy to organize them into legions-style organizations and you could base the insignia, type of demon, and specialization based on the demon-prince/lord/duke in question. to translate to modern days, you could essentially say they are companies or battalions to modern day forces. -=-=-=- heaven though is a bit less structured in military complexity but a more devine order. as far as literature shows we know humans do n't get involved in holy conflicts once they die ( barring gods of war-domains ) having earned eternal peace. so heaven would primarily be defended by angels http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hierarchy_of_angels http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christian_angelic_hierarchy with archangels being to top, dominions, virtues being next and principalities and powers being the next step down. the last and foot soldiers would be the general angels. -=-=-=-=- bringing in egyptian mythology, the most common would be servants of god-kings. above god-kings would be the regular gods we would know and they would have their own armies and hierarchies. -=-=- please note most world building and heirarchy creation of different faiths happened during a time of kings and warlords. as such, the different faiths and command structure would be as such.

[ WP ] Aliens have fired a giant laser towards Earth . Upon being struck , instead of destroying Earth , all forms of tea and coffee can no longer be brewed .

`` £4.95, are you joking?'' said Stuart Finnegan slapping his tan wallet on the counter melodramaticly. The acne scarred middle aged man shrugged and scratched his three day stubble idly. `` Costs what it costs I'm afraid.'' Michael McAndrews never thought in his wildest dreams that he would be running a pokey little tobacconists into his late 40's, but then again, Michael's wildest dreams only went as far as honeymooning in the south of France with Dame Helen Mirren. But after the unknown and unfathomable ray had stuck the Earth Michael's tiny shop began raking in the profits. Nobody could brew tea or coffee anymore, this changed things drastically. Mainly heavily crippling the economies of Brazil, China and India. With the world's favourite caffinated beverages becoming extinct overnight the era of craft beer died on its feet. Making way for the dynasty of craft chewing tobacco. The government quickly cracked down on this and made the move that critics and tabloids would officially cite in academic papers as `` Taxing the fuck out of it.'' And so Michael made his easy money, selling tins of;'Columbian Mastication','Cammomile Draw' and even the odd pack of'Decaf Caramel Chewachino.' But Michael's favourite item in the shop by far was his tin of `` Jamie's Memories'' priced at £59.99. There was no chance of covering up the incident that changed the world forever, at 12:37am a gargantuan column of energy struck the Earth. It was obvious to everyone that it was aliens. Scientists would later claim that it came from Jupiter which would eventually prove to be false. But the miracle that now makes the 8th of October a day to rememberfor the human race, is that there was only ever one recorded fatality of this `` attack.'' Limited supplies of `` Jamie's Memories'' were produced to commemorate the life of Jamie Linens, the first Earthling ( and only recorded Scouser ) to be struck by an intentional extraterrestrial force. Stuart Finnegan rustled through his wallet and slapped a fiver on the pale grey counter, chilled by the midwinter wind. It was frosty, his breath hanging in the air and his patience ready to be severed. `` Fine just take it.'' He stuffed a great big pinch behind his bottom lip and felt a tingling crawl up his spine, feeling a rush of flavour coarse through his senses. By now he was running late and the local council meeting was to take place this morning to decide what to do with their substantial amount of abandoned'Starbucks' coffee houses that fell under their jurisdiction If one thing was for sure was that it was going to be a long and tedious day not to have some coffee.

[ WP ] You have been accepted into the elite society . You have been paid millions per month for doing nothing . You 're best friends with the president . However , there 's a cost . You must murder someone every single month . If you 're caught , you are executed on the spot .

I laughed when they told me. The funniest thing had been how serious they were. Sure, I'd murder someone every month, yeah, yeah. And then as the minutes wore by I realized that they were actually serious, they meant it. And I laughed again. The funny part this time had been in that they actually took it seriously. Not that it was n't a serious subject, but that they were actually worried about being caught. They were actually worried about some sort of Washington Post expose with Murdergate headlines. Seriously? I was part of the 1 % of the 1 %, receiving millions every month on royalties on my patent rights alone. I'd taken a page out of Microsoft's book and invested heavily in all of my biggest competitors. No matter who won out in the end, I'd win. Even if I lost, I was still going to win when I liquidated my company. And of course if I won I was really going to win once I liquidated them. It was impossible for me to run out of money -- unless I assigned the task to others it was impossible for me to spend more money than I made. Of course the President wanted to be my best friend -- every political figure everywhere wanted to be my best friend. So when they told me that I had to murder someone, that there was actually this mystic importance placed on it, when they showed me data, when they got serious about how important it was that I kill and not get caught or the supernatural don't-break-the-masquerade police would execute me on the spot I could n't stop laughing. Once I got myself under control, I placed a few calls and made a few donations. I now own the largest nonprofit abortion clinics in every state. Getting my license was even easier, especially when I was the one who funded the board's creation in the first place. I'm not very good, but that's why I always have a couple surgeons standing around ready to go. I now get to murder many someones, in every state, every month. Sure, it may not be murder as far as our legal system goes. The women whose babies I abort actually invite me in and shake my hand afterward, thanking me. But the Justicars who police my ever growing capital have n't adjusted with the times and abortion is still technically murder. The kicker? They're also bound by the laws of the land and ca n't execute me on the spot because what I'm doing is perfectly legal and they are lawful to a T. I do the crime all the time by their rules but never have to do the time by our rules because even when they catch me red-handed, I'm not technically red-handed. It's gotten to be really fun. I actually stuck my tongue out at a Justicar yesterday. The young woman asked what I was doing and I made up some pithy thing about sticking it to the imaginary man who wanted to hold her down and not let me do what I was doing. We laughed. It's really gotten to be fun. I wonder how much more fun it'll be when I get one of those women alone in a closet and strangle the life out of them? We can probably clean up the body the exact same way. > There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist. > [ More by me ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/ )

[ WP ] You are the first person to walk on Mars . But just as you step on the soil , your intercom says `` Help us . ''

When the dust of the landing began to settle around us, the rocky red landscape came in to focus. My partner and I held our breaths as we gazed out of the landing capsules window. `` Let's open the door,'' I murmured, still looking out the window. I listened to our space suits crunch as we moved. I to the portal that served as our door and he to the lever that controlled it. We looked at each other. It had been a long time coming. Almost 3 years too long. He pulled the lever. Immediately, there was a rush of air as the capsule depressurized and the door pushed slowly out. As the panels separated, the steps mechanically glided down until they met the surface. The door was open. My partner came to the door, as I squatted down in front to get a better view. We stared out into what looked like a dusty brown abyss. `` Is this real?'' I heard him whisper though the headset. He put his gloved hands atop the door and peered down with me. Slowly sliding down to the first step, I replied, `` Yeah, this is real.'' As I stood, a deafening silence erupted around me. My breaths became thunderous in my ears, barely able to hear my partner shuffling behind me. Eyes wide open, I could n't stop staring at what was before me. Curving on the horizon, it went on for miles, just rocks and dust. Above, was a blackness I had only ever dreamed of seeing. And in just a small corner of the sky was Earth. I took the next step. Squinting my eyes, I raised my hand to block it. The sun is harsh on a planet with little atmosphere. As I looked closer, distinct land formations came in to view. There was what appeared to be a small mountain range of sort to my left, just peeking out from beyond the horizon, and to my right, a smattering of craters from hundreds of years ago. Between everything were dunes of rough sand, even though there was no wind to make them. I stepped down once again. Straightening himself, my partner slowly ventured out behind me. The silence is louder the closer I get to the ground. Shuddering, I look down to my feet and the soil just beneath them. I glanced back to my partner, if only in assurance that I was n't alone. We nodded to one another and with bated breath, I took the final plunge. *Crunch. * I placed my right foot first, *Crunch. * And then the left. I held my breath and closed my eyes, trying to work my way out of either an adrenaline rush or a panic attack. At this point, I did n't know what would come first. Like lightning, my headset began to crackle. It got louder and louder until I though my ears were going to bleed. I threw my hands up to attempt cover my ears through the helmet but the crackling stopped. I opened my eyes, hands still on my head. Then began a low buzzing, fuzzy syllables I could n't distinguish. The syllables quickly became half-words, still indistinguishable. The fuzzing stopped and two bright clear, distinguishable words rang through my ears: *'' Help us. `` *

[ WP ] Write two stories - the first in which a seemingly inconsequential decision leads a man to the best day of his life , and the second in which making the opposite decision leads him to his untimely death

**He Loves Her** Mike stared at the phone in his hands. His girlfriend of five years, the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life had found someone else, and had cheated on him. But the good news ( if you were being snarky ) was that she wanted to give them another shot. He could n't believe it at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it hurt him. Thoughts of tormenting him and her came to his mind, beautiful thoughts that were too tempting to resist. Maybe he could commit a double homicide, then a suicide with no notes. His headphones blared'Guilty Conscience', not the right song to be listening to as it can give you ideas, but it was worth it. But then Mike thought about it some more as he stared out the window of the moving train he was sitting in. Was it his fault? He did n't really have a direction in life and he did admit that he had n't really treated her right, plus he had been laid off a week ago. Not the best week for him. He realized that she was wrong, wrong to cheat on him and break his heart, but to do something drastic would make two losers instead of one, and he decided he was going to fix that. It was true that she cheated on him, it was a mistake, but he loved her in spite of that mistake, and the offer was already on the table. He could fix everything. He decided he was going to call her. He swore as the train suddenly came to a halt and his phone was knocked to the ground and was almost trampled by a descending passenger. The woman who almost crushed his feet got his fingers with her high heels instead but before he could get a good look on her she was gone. He did hear an audible sorry though. Mike cursed himself for not getting his fingers out of the way in time. 'Kate' he said after picking up the phone and dialing her number, the train was in motion. `` Yeah'' she said from the other end, almost hesitant. `` I want to give it another shot'' he said to her. There was a pause, before Kate let out an audible sigh on the phone. `` Mike, I am so glad-'' Those were the last things Mike Traught heard as the passenger car he was in exploded due to a head on collision with another train. **He Loves Her Not** Mike stared at the phone in his hands. His girlfriend of five years, the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life had found someone else, and had cheated on him. But the good news ( if you were being snarky ) was that she wanted to give them another shot. He could n't believe it at first, but the more he thought about it, the more it hurt him. Thoughts of tormenting him and her came to his mind, beautiful thoughts that were too tempting to resist. Maybe he could commit a double homicide, then a suicide with no notes. His headphones blared'Guilty Conscience', not the right song to be listening to as it can give you ideas, but it was worth it. But then Mike thought about it some more as he stared out the window of the moving train he was sitting in. Was it his fault? He did n't really have a direction in life and he did admit that he had n't really treated her right, plus he had been laid off a week ago. Not the best week for him. He realized that she was wrong, wrong to cheat on him and break his heart, but to do something drastic would make two losers instead of one, and he decided he was going to fix that. He was going to give that bitch a piece of his mind. He had given his heart and soul to her and she went ahead and fucked someone else behind his fucking back. He was going to call her, go to her house and then grab all his stuff, secretly hoping the guy would be there so he could knock his ass out. He could be rational, but he decided that he was n't gon na do that. He decided he was going to call her first. He swore as the train suddenly came to a halt and his phone was knocked to the ground. He instantly bent down to pick it up, but quickly withdrew his fingers when he saw a woman wearing dangerously high heels approaching. The high heels crushed his phone. `` Hey what the fuck?'' Mike shouted, his rage substituted, he was now mad about his phone, broken, and in his crushed to pieces. He spotted the woman, wearing a black dress rushing out of the train. `` Hey!'' he exclaimed, `` Come back here you bitch''. He got up and barely got out of the train before the doors closed. `` Hey!'' he shouted at the woman wearing a black. She turned around. Mike stared at her, it was like an old memory that was repressed that had suddenly revealed itself. It was his first ever love, the one that got away. Janet. `` Janet'' he said, dazed. She did n't take long to recognize him, and when she did, she was smiling. That was the best day in Mike Traught's life, as he went on to reconnect with Janet, marry her and raise a happy family with her, and it was all born out of an initially irrational decision.

[ WP ] A colossal monster has just surfaced out the deep underground ocean from the Mediterranean Sea . As it reaches land , while an enormous military force is at standby the creature yells out your name and its heard half across the world . What happens now ?

A booming voice called out `` LLAAAAARRRRYYYYYYY''. I turned in the direction it came from and my dickhead brother was standing near a fountain in the plaza, hands cupped around his mouth, braying my name like a jackass. We'd just got back to Poperinge after touring several monastery breweries and I was managing the precious cargo of beer that we'd be trying out later that evening. I was n't really in the mood for his special brand of buffoonery, but I was the one who asked him to come along for this trip and would have to deal with it. I got everything situated and picked up the duffelbag with our liquid cargo, turned to him and was just about to speak when... A sound unlike anything I'd ever heard rumbled through the sky. I closed my mouth and looked up, wondering what the hell could have caused such a deep noise, when I noticed my chest fluttering, like someone touched a huge tuning fork to it. I could n't move but people around me scattered, running for cover like an airstrike was about to hit. I turned to look at my brother and noticed that he was doubled over, hands clutching his ears. I started to make my way to him when the sound repeated, only this time it was clear. `` LARRY TAYLOR, I SUMMON YOU.'' There was no doubt about it, that was my name. This time I felt nothing in my chest and I noticed my brother finally standing upright, with a hugely puzzled look on his face. I moved over to him and asked if he was alright. `` What the hell was that dude,'' he asked. `` Are you pranking me right now?'' I shook my head and told him, `` This is some shit you'd pull on me, not the other way around.'' We both looked around the plaza and noticed that it was deserted. Taking that as our cue, we shambled back to the hotel and discussed theories about what just happened. As we entered the hotel lobby I noticed that the receptionist was staring at a nearby TV with a terrible look of fright on her face. Following her gaze, I swiveled my head and saw something utterly unbelievable. Some kind of... creature was standing on the coast somewhere, four legs firmly planted in the water. A helicopter was circling at a distance and whatever it was, it appeared to be huge. As the view panned and moved to show the beach and land, what appeared to be hundreds or thousands of people, tanks, rocket launchers, armored personnel carriers, and mobile artillery were blanketing the area. This monster (? ) towered over everything. Tanks looked like toys in comparison to it's size. A fleeting view from the news chopper showed what I thought was a battleship in the background, and it looked to be about the length of one of this thing's arms. Four legs, two arms, an abdomen and thorax almost like humans, and a head eerily similar to the Reapers from those Mass Effect games. This thing was gunmetal in color, easily stood eight hundred feet tall and seemed pissed about something. My brother put a hand on my shoulder and started asking questions at the rapid rate. I did n't really hear him. My mind was reeling. Seconds later, the thing opens what I guess is a mouth and I heard my name again, first from the TV and then through the air. `` Holy shit man, that thing knows you.'' The receptionist snapped her head to me and asked if I was Larry Taylor. I nodded. She picked up the phone and called someone. Standing in the lobby dumbfounded and speechless, we watched what appeared to be an uneasy truce between man and monster. The human response was growing exponentially, with aircraft joining the land military. Hundreds of civilians had shown up as well and some were launching out in kayaks and canoes to paddle towards this giant. It stood motionless after calling my name several more times. The police came and asked a simple question; what is your name? I answered and was quickly handcuffed, blindfolded and drug out to a car. I could hear my brother yelling and trying to stop them, and then I heard a gunshot and my brother was silenced. I fought the hardest ever in my life to get away, to check on my brother, but I failed. Within seconds of being shoved in a patrol car I felt a needle jab my shoulder and then I was out. I came to in the back of a military troop transport. I certainly did n't know where I was, but when my captors started speaking I knew it was Italian. Had I been transported to Italy just because some creature called my name? Apparently so. My blindfold was removed and after an little adjustment for my eyes I peered out of the back of the transport, noticing that we were on a coastal highway. There did n't appear to be any traffic behind us and I notice that there was no traffic in the opposite lanes either. No one spoke to me, and unless the did so in English, I would n't understand them anyway. I wanted to rub my temples and try to shake the fog off from being sedated but my hands were still cuffed behind my back. Twenty minutes later the truck slowed to a stop. I heard some chatter but did n't understand it. The truck then lurched forward and I realized that we passed through a checkpoint. Armored trucks pulled forward after we entered this new area, effectively blocking off all other access from the road. My transport was moving slower as well, navigating a maze of people, tents, tanks and other military hardware. Before much longer I was unceremoniously yanked from the troop hauler and shoved in front of a diminutive man. `` I am Ammiraglio Christiano Ferilli, commander of Naval Forces Italy. What is your name?'' He fixed me with a stern gaze and I replied, `` Larry Taylor. What do you want with me? Where is my brother? Why am I detained? ANSWER ME!'' `` Ah, typical American. Demanding and ignorant of the situation he finds himself in. Let me explain something to you Mr. Taylor, your president has authorized us to detain you and deliver you to the... thing. The Belgians brought you here and we will proceed to take you to Santa Tecla. That is all the information you need to know.'' With a dismissive wave of his hand I was shoved towards another truck, loaded and being delivered to a town I'd never heard of before. Arriving in Santa Tecla was strange. The admiral had called ahead and our path was cleared all the way to the black, rocky beaches in this small village. I was pulled from the truck, again, and blindfolded, again, before being led to the beach. Once there I was forced into a kneeling position and someone behind me snatched off my blindfold. I looked out to the Mediterranean to see a massive tower of beast. The TV cameras did not convey the size of this thing, but now that I had a perspective with my own eyeballs I refused to believe a living being could be such a size. Eight hundred feet tall was a low estimate, that's how much of it rose above the water. This monster was easily a thousand feet tall and it was now moving towards me at an impossible rate. Panicked screams filled the air when it moved. I heard weapons being cocked, frantic calls going out over radios and more than a few prayers... and here I am, still handcuffed, with this thing moving towards me. The huge, muscular beast took steps in two hundred foot spans and was upon me in a matter of moments. It stopped fifty yards or so from the beach, the water barely covering what I guessed were it's toes When it spoke it was n't the thunderous boom that I'd heard back in Belgium, but it was still loud enough to ring my ears. `` Are you the one called Larry Taylor? Speak and answer me!'' `` Yes, I am Larry Taylor. What do you want with me? How do you know my name? Why am I here?'' `` Stand Larry, and accept your fate.'' If I'd had a square asshole just then, I'd have shit a brick. I stood, staring up at the weirdly human and mechanical form. I swallowed and felt my throat click. My heart was racing and somewhere in the back of my brain I was telling myself that this was the end. The monster began to kneel down. Off behind my left shoulder I heard a gunshot. I flinched, thinking I was the target. Well, that one shot turned into more, and pretty soon it seemed like everyone in Santa Tecla was firing away. A tank, or maybe it was artillery, fired and I watched the impact appear on the colossus's shoulder. I was shaking with fear, fear that the humans behind me would mow me down and fear that the monster would step on me trying to get to them. I could n't think, so I ran. I took off along the beach, northeast towards the small marina there, hoping I could make it before I died. I did n't make it far. The ground shook so hard I lost my footing and spilled on the rocks. The sound that accompanied the quake would have knocked me off my feet anyway; an earth shattering roar that made me think the world had fractured. I looked up in the direction of the marina and saw a tank crash into the beach. Bodies, trees, and dirt were flying around everywhere. I heard the telltale sound of a jet engine failing and rockets firing. This little piece of seafront island had just turned into a version of Hell. I turned over and sat on my ass, watching the beast from the briny depths pull his hands from the earth. I'm guessing he'd jumped onto land and slammed his fists down, but it did n't seem like that simple tantrum-like act could destroy so much. I yelled at the top of my lungs `` WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?'' The four-legged creature stopped, turned his massive head and fixed me with a red-eye gaze. When it spoke this time, it spoke in my head. `` Far above this earth, beyond the stars, there is a beast that comes to destroy you. Only you. You are not who you think you are.'' I could n't think straight, but managed to ask, `` Who are you? Where do you come from?'' `` I am the son of the Sun and have no name. I have been here for as long as there has been an Earth. My father commanded me to wait until you were ready for me to show you who you truly are.'' ........................... Edit: spelling

[ WP ] After 10 long years of being dead , you wake up alive on the night of the zombie apocalypse . One problem . Your coffin wo n't open .

Leave it to me to be late for the end of the world. Growing up in a Japanese family, born to a father who's trade was clockmaking, punctuality was promised to me as the path to success. I died poor and it is no wonder as to how to my family. My mother taught me that time was precious and not to wasted. I try to forget the irony of my situation as my desiccated limbs fail to free my corpse from my buried tomb. It was paid for by the state. My affairs, of course, were not in order when I met my demise. If it were not for the clumsy steps of my zombied brethren over head echoing into my coffin - I swear I could focus. Though, who am I kidding? This coffin is to caskets what government issued humvees are to bicycles. Overburdened and under designed. I am destined to life after death under the live dead with all the thanks to the undertaker who took my case under the earth. Too loud. Thoughts too fast. So hungry. I'm coming. I may need more time. I have all the time in the world, and I found a way to be late.

[ WP ] Write a story where each sentence has one more word than the last .

* Hi. * You again? * How are you * Hope you are bad. * I hope you love me. * Because you must love me, right? * You smile at me, you hug me. * That is not siblings like love, you fool. * That is the kind of mommy and daddy love. * But who am I kidding right, because you and me. * Funny; you, me; seems like a dream to one of us. * But why do not dream about us together in the dream world. * I am not an angel to you, nor devil, I'm man of purgatory. ........ first attempt ever.

[ WP ] In a world where magic is chanted aloud , your lisp is impeding your dreams of being a wizard .

Cyril cringed beneath the boulder as waves of heat flowed above him. The barbarian Nurk had led the attack, swinging his mallet. He had been crushed in the dragon's scimitar fangs. Lynnia the Elven archer had taken cover and aimed her obsidian arrows at the belly of the beast, but they shattered against its iron plates. Its tail had whipped around a pillar and plucked her head from her body. The Paladin Goodness had raised his great sword, Righteous, and charged bellowing an invocation to his One God. By the not-unpleasant roasting smell, Cyril guessed how it had ended. He was alone. There was only one chance now. The ancient words which would freeze a dragon to stone. He had flubbed it the first time, and his comrades were dead. He would n't fail them now. He arose, turned and stared into the wyrm's eyes. It glared, smoking and terrible. `` Draconith Thedimentith!'' bellowed Cyril. The dragon stopped dead still. Cyril's heart filled with joy, and then shame he had failed his boon companions. Then the dragon spoke. `` ART THOU THERIOUTH RIGHT NOW?'' Cyril's eyes bugged out. `` Yeth?'' The dragon shook its mighty head. `` HOW CANTHT THOU BE A WITHARD WITH A LITHP?'' `` Well, I jutht wanted to be a thcribe but my parentth thaid...'' `` THAY NO MORE, THMALL MAN. I UNDERTHTAND. MINE OWN PARENTTH WERE... DIFFICULT.'' Cyril smiled weakly. `` I thee.'' An uncomfortable moment of silence followed. Cyril scratched his nose. A second later, the dragon reached up with its talons and picked a charred Nurk bone from its front teeth. `` I WANTED TO KILL YOU, BUT FOR THOME REATHON I LIKE YOU, THMALL MAN. I WILL GRANT YOU ONE WITH. WID. BOON! MAGICAL BOON!'' Cyril blinked. `` Oh. Can I wid... ask for my boon companionth to be brought back to life? And altho teleported to the land of a thouthand delightth? With money and falthe memorieth of thlaying a great dragon?'' The dragon blinked, then opened its mouth, then closed it again. After a moment, it spoke. `` NITHE CHOITHE. CONVOLUTED BUT ACTHEPTABLE.'' Soon the four heroes sat beneath the Tree Where Each Fruit is Unique and Refreshing, on their fifth drink from the River of Intoxication without Hangover. As Nurk and Goodness drunkenly debated philosophy, Lynnia turned to Cyril and smiled. `` I always knew you would n't fail us,'' she said. `` Sometimes things work out for the best,'' replied Cyril.

[ WP ] Every ten years from age twenty until death , you from ten years earlier appears in your bedroom . You have five minutes to explain how to change your life before young you returns to the past .

I sat on my bed and waited for my ten-year-old self to appear before me. `` Where is this? Who are you?'' said the boy. `` I'm you from the future.'' I responded. I also dropped my first email password and my first cat's name to identify myself. `` What's wrong with your brow?'' asked the young one curiously. `` It's called a unibrow. We got it after Dad.'' `` Oh.'' `` Listen, young man, we have about four minutes to speak about the future.'' `` What exactly?'' `` You know what Google is?'' - he nodded. `` In 2008 you'll get a decent computer. Then, every month google for something called `` Bitcoin''; here, I'll spell it out for you; if you begin mining it early, you'll have a lot of those things, and they'll peak at about 300 zloty each. It's a virtual currency kind of thing. Oh, and two more things: study before tests. Middle and high school will be hell for you if you do n't, and you'll end up like me. And start programming already, it's not magic and you can earn money from it without an education, back in your times. One last thing: Convince dad to bet on Germany in the 2014 football cup, even a few coins will give you a ridiculous payout.'' `` Uh huh. You talk funny.'' He seemed to want to say something more, but then disappeared mid-sentence. *Fuck, this is n't working. * A sharply-dressed, mustachioed man in a suit appeared in my doorframe...

[ WP ] Convert your favorite scene from your favorite movie into a sonnet , while attempting to preserve the themes , twist , and pacing from the original scene .

She walks the hall of horrors to its end And finds therein her object of intrigue, Assessing her, too monstrous to befriend Yet his charm to his crimes does not bespeak. With duly mustered courage she makes her plea: They'll buy his help, their manhunt's gone adrift. Yet her offers are not the prize he sees, She's not the gift bearer, but is the gift. He plays with her a game he has devised, For humans have long been his preferred toys, Then lets her leave, having made her realize The depth of his contempt for Crawford's ploy. But when some psycho jizzes in her face, Courtesy mandates he help solve her case.

[ WP ] For as long as you can remember , you 've had that scar . You stopped noticing it . Then , one morning , you 're pretty sure it 's in a different spot . You shake it off , but every morning it moves a little closer to your heart .

For as long as I can remember, I've had that scar. A ragged burn, shaped like the bright X that marks the spot on a pirate map. The skin around it always feels tight, and when I trace it with my fingers, I feel like I've forgotten something important. I ca n't help but wonder if what I've forgotten is how I first got it, but my brothers tell me I've had it since birth. Eventually, I stopped wondering about the odd cross on my shoulder. It was annoying, but it did n't hinder me in my racing, or gymnastics, so I ignored it. My brothers had strange birthmarks too, maybe it was just something that ran in the family. I'd ask my parents about it, if I ever saw them. I do n't think I have a mom. Maybe a long time ago I did, or maybe she died when I was born. Nobody talks about it. Dad's never home, always off doing his great work in far-away lands- His friends tell me its all very, VERY important, but I do n't really get it. All I wonder is if he's following his dreams. If he's following his dreams, I can forgive him for that, even if Ace ca n't. On my sixteenth birthday, something strange happened. Everyone says it's just in my head, but I'm pretty sure that scar of mine used to be right on top of my shoulder, but now it's flat against the skin near my chest. It looks bigger too, and when I trace it with my fingers, I feel like there's something very important right on the edge of memory. On my seventeenth birthday my big brothers went away to college. I laughed and waved goodbye with them, and did my best to ignore the fact that the scar had moved once again. It did n't itch anymore. The only itch was the one on the edges of my memory, reminding me painfully every moment I was awake that there was something very, very precious that I was forgetting. On my eighteenth birthday I sat alone in my room for an hour, awake before anyone else, and traced the ragged edges of the growing cross. The skin around it does n't feel tight anymore, instead stretching easily around the burn. A part of me could n't help but hope that maybe that meant it was finally healing-But I could n't ignore the fact that the scar was, without doubt, moving closer and closer to my heart. It was as undeniable as the loneliness that had been weighing me down since they left. I placed my palm flat against the burn, and let my head sink against my knees. It was right there, a memory, waiting for me on the limits of my mind. I could almost catch it, almost see it, could just barely feel salt spray on my face and the laughing tune of someplace far away and long ago... On my nineteenth birthday, the scar settled itself perfectly over my heart, the X crisscrossing across my chest. I knew it would n't move again. Because on my nineteenth birthday, I remembered. *'' Nevermore shall we meet again, * *So say goodbye, my dearest friend. * *But do n't be down and do n't you frown, * *For soon the moon shall rise! `` * I was n't going to be lonely anymore, because my family, my real family, was out there waiting for me. I just had to find them again. I already did it once, how hard can it be to do it again? It'll be an adventure! *'' LET'S GO! ONWARD! `` *

Write a short story about a kidnapping from the point of view of the kidnapper

**first time I've contributed here all critiques welcomed** Mike waited outside of Molly's school. The elementary had bright yellow walls and a red roof. It was n't that big, the town Samantha had moved to was small, 100,000 people or so. He waited outside by a column, with his hands in his pocket, trying to appear nonchalant. The bell rang and a minute later kids streamed out of the gate, past the teachers and security guards. He was searching the crowd of tiny human beings for Molly. His daughter, a beautiful girl of blond hair locks and green eyes. She had lost her front tooth but her smile was charming as ever. Mike only got to see her every few months, as the custody rules dictated. So he had missed her first day of school, her singing recital, her birthday. That was enough for him to snap. Molly was his daughter, he had every right to her, as Samantha did. More even, Mike had a job and lots of love to give and Samantha had thrown that all away after a few years. He had begged her to stay, but she ignored his pleas and took herself and his only daughter away from him. He saw Molly walking to the far right of the incoming stream of children. `` Molly'' he cooed, `` Molly, over here''. Molly turned her head and saw her dad. A smile spread across cheek to cheek, `` Daddy!'' she yelled and made her way through the crowd of kids and ran into him, arms spread wide into a hug. Molly and him had always been close, they loved each other and he was caring, would always play whatever game she wanted to play. He hugged her back. `` Do you want to ride home with me?'' he asked, with a smile on his face. She was with him now and that's all he wanted. `` Sure!'' said Molly. Mike grabbed her hand and they walked towards the car. He opened the backseat, `` buckle up, all right?''. And he went and sat in the driver's seat. He turned on the car and pulled out of the parking lot. He drove unto the street, checking to see he had not raised any alarms. `` Did you learn anything new in school today?'' he asked. `` Lots of things Daddy, we learned the earth is really really old, and that it goes around the sun! We learned our multiplication tables today. I got to pet the hamster and give it food, so he'd be big and strong, his name is Waldo. And whenever someone lets him loose, the teacher says `` where's Waldo? where's Waldo? and we all laugh'', giggled Molly. `` Say Molly, care for some ice cream on the way home?'' asked Mike. Molly had always loved sweets and the moment he said ice cream, she smiled and nodded. So he drove past her house and past the town city limits. They were going home, his home, to have ice cream and be a family again.

[ WP ] A punchdrunk lovesick lullaby

I followed you into the dark. We carved our names into the bark. `` Forever and always Through short nights and through long days.'' ___ But that tree withered so long Its voice died in sweet silent song. Dead and gone We left and lost our life bond. ___ I always remember your words Of comfort and joy like the birds. Sweet and sad; It was all I never had. ___ For I carved both names on that tree No kind woman would be with me. No more hope; You and me, the end of a rope ___ You were not ever real and I know that now. `` Always to love you'', I end with that vow.

[ WP ] Everyone must talk in puns for one day .

As Richard runs towards his group of friends he can hear the first complaints about how waiting on him was, like eating a clock, very time consuming. Quickly he elaborated why he was late. *Sorry I am late guys, I had to put my little brother in bed but he was resisting a rest. * *Well glad you're here, because people like you are better at thinking outside the box! * Richard grinns as he recalls his latest experience with being claustrophobic. *Well guys, let me get a new pencil to write down our ideas, because writing with this broken one is pointless. * Said Lindsay from the chair in the corner. *Hey Lindsay! * screamed Richard *Did you read that book on phobias already? Or do you fear it is n't going to help? * *Well, my main fear was hurdles, but do n't worry, I got over it! By the way did I tell you a cop tazed my father? It was shocking to see! * *Oh wauw, that reminds me! I will be joining the army next year. So have you seen any camouflage shirts? I ca n't seem to find one. * Richard responded. *Well I've heard there will be such reversible jackets lately, I wonder how they turn out! They always are great with thight jeans, but I can never pull it off. * *Okeaj guys, lets not forget why we're here, else we might get another existential crisis. * Said Ralph. *We might be well prepared, but we still have to practice a bit more for pun-day tomorrow! *

[ WP ] Two god-like beings , disguised as old men , play a game of chess on a park bench to decide the final fate of humanity . The players , however , are distracted by a couple seated across them ...

`` Excuse, me, can we get back to business?'' `` Are you *seeing* this?'' `` What?'' `` Them. Over there. No! Do n't turn around!'' `` I do n't have eyes in the back of my head, you know.'' `` The hell you do n't.'' `` Ha. True. What about them?'' `` Is he trying to get his *entire* tongue in her mouth? It's disgusting.'' `` That's what they do. It's entirely sloppy and disgusting. I think it's cute.'' `` Ugh. And their genitalia. My Me, that shit is gross.'' `` Look. We had specifications. We had to work from the blueprints.'' `` I do n't trust Head Office to know their heads from their asses. Or those things' asses.'' `` Yes, yes. We've been down this road before. And the free will thing. That still a thorn in your perfect side?' `` Look, I'm just saying maintenance would have been easier, my way. And we would n't be at this crossroad now, would we?'' `` I suppose not. Still your turn.' `` Do n't rush me! We agreed to the time limitations before the last hundred sets were played, and you're always whining about the rules after *you* agreed.'' `` Okay, okay. Forgive me.'' `` That's not my job, and you know it. And stop smiling like that.'' `` Like what?'' `` You know exactly what I'm... HA! You did n't see it, did you?'' `` What?'' `` THIS! Mate in four. What now, bitch?'' `` Shit. Yup. Entirely yours.'' `` That's right. What is it now?'' That makes twenty nine me, twenty six you.'' `` This set is mine. You're through. I have you now.'' `` You said that last set.'' `` Shut up. Oh, dear Me. He's rubbing her genitals through her jeans. Ugh.'' `` Love is love, no matter what. You know that.'' `` Shut up and reset.''

[ WP ] A parallel world just like Earth except you gain the memories of everything you digest . All humans have this trait and it applies to all vegetables , fungi and animal `` memories '' .

`` We've got a god damn epidemic on our hands Jones, quick alert the national guard!!'' Leaping up from the table, more out of freight than urgency, I knocked the cup of tea on to the floor. `` Sarah, what are you talking about? National guard? What's going on? Sarah! HEY SARAH!!'' She stopped running and turned to face me, her face a pale reflection against the walls of parliament. `` They're eating each other Jones, reports of it are coming from all over the country and other countries too! Cannibalism on an unprecedented scale, they think that the memory osmosis they've achieved with plants and animals also applies to us humans.'' `` Jesus... who do? When you say they? Who?'' `` The Mob Jones, the average joe, the millions and millions of faceless people who either live in the slums or in squalor... they're rising up, it's a god damn rebellion.'' `` My god.''

[ WP ] God is dead and we killed him .

From the moment we began We started to lose our faith We blindly followed a path laid out for us Rarely stepping aside to brush of the dust We pushed our way through the darkness of each day And at night We played our sins away He never wanted us to judge Just love He never wanted control Just to watch He did n't hand out miracles because He knew We needed to create them ourselves There was no hell For that fear was of human design Yet we stopped praying Because of that fear We stopped caring Believing Our love turned vile towards the sky Never to be cleansed For now there is no heaven We killed him Long ago He could not stand and watch As our planet grew old And deadly Toxins poisoning our air Until we're all living off of tanks Slowly dying in our own mess of a life With no more miracles to hand out He never interfered Because we needed to do it ourselves We did it We did it ourselves We killed Him *** *** [ I have a blog! Come check it out if you enjoyed! ] ( https: //thearcherswriting.wordpress.com/ )

[ WP ] When people turn 20 , they get to meet their guardian angel . It 's your 20th birthday , you finally get to meet the angel that 's been protecting you , and you 're horrified by what you see .

`` Hey, Johnny. I'm your angel.'' This man could not be my guardian angel. If this was any other time or place I would avoid this guy like the plague, but you ca n't exactly do that during the Angel Ceremony. Thinning hair, patched up clothes, stubble over his slightly chubby chin. The angel did not, in fact, smell, but my imagination conjured up associated stinks and odors. The short, scarred man reached out to shake my hand. I shook it instinctively, not out of politeness. His calloused hands were so thick it felt like I was shaking bands of rebar wrapped with sandpaper. `` Johnny I'm so happy to finally meet you!'' He was beaming. `` I ca n't wait to answer all your questions and actually spend some time together!'' I could hardly stand to look at him. I felt jipped! Most angels I had heard people talk about were downright fucking majestic! Dad always goes on and on about how much his angel looks and acts like a Clint Eastwood if he was a European model. This guy, whoever he was, looked like a grown up Pig-pen from Charlie Brown. I could tell he was waiting for a response from me. I gathered my thoughts and tried something simple. `` So, you obviously know my name, what is yours?'' `` My name is Cruthis. No last name,'' he laughed and revealed slightly stained teeth. `` Well... it's good to meet you Cruthis,'' I managed. What a name. Cruthis either did n't notice my confusion or was too excited to bother with addressing with it. `` I ca n't tell you how proud I am of you, Johnny. You're my first assignment and I've always tried to keep you safe, man. It was a close call with the wreck a few years ago, and a couple of nights when you were in college, but you made sure you had fun!'' he laughed again and winked at me, but I had to consciously not cringe. `` It's not always been easy. In fact, it's been a pretty rough assignment, but for you it's worth it Johnny. You've got so much potential. What I've been through for you, I'd do it again a hundred times. When we....'' I could n't stand it anymore. We had the room reserved for today and the next, but I knew I could n't talk to this guy anymore. It was time to go. My hand was already fiddling with the phone in my pocket. I had to interrupt his blubbering. `` Hey, look Cruthis, it was nice to meet you, but I've got to go,'' I said, starting to turn. He reached out and gripped my arm. Hard. I turned back to him and he gripped by other arm just as hard. His eyes were wide open and his face searched mine in frantic confusion. `` No! Johnny! I've waited so long to meet you for real and talk about all the times we had together. I know it's kind of frowned upon, but do n't you remember your imaginary friend, Crubs? That was me! We played shadows when your mom put you to bed and played pretend outside all those times and...'' `` Let go!'' I shouted. I yanked my arms out of his grip and backed away from him. `` Johnny, no,'' he pleaded. His pathetic face just made me disgusted, it did n't register any sympathy. I still was n't convinced this guy was my angel. No way. As I left the room I glanced back into the room and Cruthis was gone. Good riddance, whoever you are. The Registry is going to hear about this. My nose still stung with the bum's stink.

[ WP ] Through the power of an all-knowing being , you are allowed to know one thing or everything about one subject . However , you do not have the ability to tell anyone , meaning you can not speak it , write it , hint at it , etc . How does this change the way you look at things related to that subject ?

The captain had thought it odd, upon initially hearing the Spaniard's request. Nonetheless, he was no fool and knew few men would turn over their share of such a haul lightly, but `` All I ask,'' the Spaniard said, `` is you guarantee I may have just one very particular item I believe to be currently secured in that hold. It is a family heirloom, of sentimental value only - it is the reason I came aboard this vessel in the first place.'' Managing to stifle his obvious disbelief and the urge to purr covetously, he nonetheless accepted the Spaniard's offer. He could always just kill him, he reasoned. Three weeks later, he watched as the Spaniard proceeded before him into the depths of the vast hold, stacked high to the rafters with boxes and crates overflowing with gold. The Spaniard stopped, knelt down and began poring carefully through a pile of what looked like solid gold candelabras, coat hooks and other such trifles. The Captain was puzzled, as they were by far the least attractive pieces in the room both financially and aesthetically. The Spaniard suddenly stood up, triumphantly. As he turned to face the Captain, he saw that the Spaniard was clutching an old arabic style oil lamp and from the looks of it, it was n't even gold it was brass! In a moment of confusion he removed his right hand from the butt of the pistol rather poorly hidden in the waistband of his trousers and the Spaniard saw his moment; `` I am Inigo Montoya. I am sorry, I wish I did not have to kill you. I am searching for the six fingered man who killed my father, but if you kill me yes, then I can no longer continue my search and exact my revenge upon the six fingered man, yes? `` `` So, unfortunately I have to kill you. Again, I am sorry. Adios!'' After cleaning his blade on the Captain's filthy coattails, he picked up the lamp and began to rub it furiously. Now finally, he would find the six fingered man!

[ WP ] In the world of magic , some people discriminate against others based on what type of magic they use . You , a closet necromancer , are about to come out to your devout holy mage parents .

Dear Mom & Dad, I'm writing you this letter, because I do not know how I will find the words to say what I'm about to you in person. Please understand I would n't be telling you this if I did n't think it was important, and that no matter what I will always love you and respect you both... Before you freak out, please, please just finish this letter, listen to what I have to say, and the do whatever you will. I'm a necromancer, I always have been, and I've never had any choice in the matter. I remember from a young age how different I felt. In our community when the other school kids were taught healing spells and began to practice their magic on flower patches, all the weeds would disappear, and the flowers would begin to bloom so beautifully. But then when it was my turn, all the weeds rose back up, more plentiful than ever before, and the flowers would die. Without knowing what I was doing, I had killed the entire flower patch of the school. My teacher, Priestess Lara exclaimed in shock, and then told me because I was unfaithful to the deities my magic was failing. She told me to pray, and ask for forgiveness, and the power of light would come outside of me. I promise, I tried to change, I really did. But then, I raised Boots from the dead. You remember boots, do n't you? She was such the most friendly cat I've ever known... Well remember when she went missing when I was 12, and she was covered in blood? I told you that it was the blood of another cat she got in a fight with that did n't end well... I lied. I was looking all over for Boots, and eventually I found her. She was dead, an arrow was in her. Some bratty kids used her as target practice and left her for dead. I felt as if I had lost my best friend, and I immediately began to cry, tears swelled up in my eyes and sobs broke out in my throat that I did n't even realize I was capable of making. I cradled her into my arms, and began to shake back and forth, saying, `` Please, no, no, no, no Boots, do n't leave me! No!'' Before I knew it a warm sensation began to spread through my body, directly into my hands, and then Boots began to squirm in my arms and kiss my cheek when she started purring. I was in shock then, but all the fears I had came to life. I was a necromancer, I would never be a healer like you wanted me to. But the thing is, with Boots alive, brought back from the dead, I did n't care. I know what you're thinking, you'll think I'll become evil. You'll think I'll be like all the other necromancers, raising bodies from the dead to torment their victims, or even worship the fallen god... but you know me better than that I hope. I did research on it and found others like me, necromancers ashamed of who they are, many of them hide behind guises of healers in order to help others without being associated with evil. I talked to a man, who I will not name for his own protection, that works in fields. He goes to villages that experience drought, and have trouble growing their grains, and when no one is around he raises the vegetation from the ground, and gives it new life. The thing that is misunderstood about necromancy is this: You can raise a corpse from the dead, and leave it as it is, often used to terrify the family who of it belonged to, or to do your own bidding. But necromancy can also be used as a healing magic, and requires so, so much more skill and patience, and even love. I could be the necromancers that do evil, but with practice I could become the healer you always wanted me to be, just in a different way. Please give me that choice. The man I talked to said he would accept me into his apprenticeship. So there it is. Your child's a necromancer, but I prefer the term `` Healer.'' Take with it what you will, but all I ask is you continue to love me. Sincerely, Yours truly. -- I have n't wrote in a long time, so this is kind of practice. If it's not that good, I understand. But this prompt was fun to explore!

[ WP ] A man sits on a bench in the middle of a park . Out of boredom , he imagines a back story for every person who crosses his path . He sees a couple jogging toward him in matching sweatsuits ...

William and Esther Atwood were married for twenty six years. Neither of them had been looking for love as they both led incredibly busy lives. William worked on Wall Street- he made millions. Esther worked in advertising. The two never gave a second thought to marriage. They didn ’ t think they had time for a family. William was an only child and his mother left when he was young. He grew up with an alcoholic father who worked seventy hours a week. He was used to being alone in his youth, but he wanted companionship as an adult. He had women. Plenty of women. He slept with women from Europe, Africa, and Asia, traveling the world in the bedroom between their thighs. Esther was the same- showing off a new boy toy each weekend at the nicest restaurants. There was Chad, Jimmy, Eric, and Drew. They all looked the same- tall, muscular, with dirty blonde hair. Had they not kept the attention of Esther, they'd be selling underwear on the ads between the pages of magazines that would never sell. The two grew tired of these lifestyles and wanted a new routine. William wanted to go home to someone. He was tired of an empty apartment. He tried getting a dog- but he had no time to walk it and his allergies got the best of him. Esther felt the same. She could only have so many glasses of wine for dinner by herself. She wanted conversation. She wanted someone to ask her how her day went, even if she did n't want to talk about it. The two met at a wedding of a mutual friend. William went to college with the groom and Esther's cousin was best friends with the bride. They both only went for the sake of appearances. William wore a tailored suit that fit him just right. He had his tailor alter each month, especially if he slacked on going to the gym. Esther wore a red cocktail dress that looked more valuable than it was. She had pearls laced around her neck and her hair was up in a tight bun, a single white streak fluttered in her bangs. She had an empty wine glass in her hand, carrying it around like a trophy. The two shared a table at the reception. William ordered the steak and Esther ordered the chicken. They both hated the food. Neither ate cake. William was immediately drawn to Esther. Her red dress helped her stand out in a crowd of neutral colors. He did n't find her naturally beautiful but he found a comfort in her that he had not experience before. Everyone was intimidated by her, but William had worked with women like her his entire life. He smiled. Esther was drunk. She had more alcohol than food in her stomach. Her ulcer was acting up. She excused herself from the table and walked to the restroom. Even drunk, Esther was graceful in heels. She lived five inches off the ground and nothing could drag her down. William was curious. He followed her to the restroom and ordered a drink at the bar. It was all a gesture, as he had n't had a drink in years. The ice melted in the glass and watered down the top of the shelf whiskey. He waited. Esther emerged from the restroom. She looked around, making sure no one caught her in her weakened moment. Her eyes caught William at the bar. He was a handsome man- with dashes of salt colored hair sprinkled on his temples. He was naturally handsome- like an old movie star, and she thought he would look good in a cigarette commercial. He didn ’ t smoke. William brought a glass of water over to Esther. He left his whiskey on the bar with a $ 100 bill. He handed her the glass and she reluctantly accepted it. “ Looks like you could use a refreshment.. ”, William murmured. She sipped it to be polite. He asked her what her name was and how she knew the bride or groom. She replied and returned the question. William smiled. The two began to talk. William told her of his life on Wall Street and how trading stocks was nothing like you see in the movies. He was tired. He used the wedding as an excuse to get away. Esther replied with a similar answer. Advertising had been something she stumbled upon. She was good. Real good. She rose in the ranks faster than anyone before her and she ran with it. She never wanted to be an executive. She wanted to be a librarian. She loved books. William also loved to read. The two talked all night. The wedding guests had left the party and the bartender was cleaning the counter and tables, letting the few stragglers know it was soon closing time. William found comfort in Esther. She lived a similar life to him and he felt she understood him better than anyone ever had. He didn ’ t mind she had a cat or an appetite for wine. He didn ’ t mind she always skipped breakfast but made sure to get her coffee in the morning. He didn ’ t mind she worked eighty hours a week. Esther found a similar comfort in William. She was drawn to his presence- powerful and commanding. She loved how he found wealth after growing up so poor. He was a self-made man and she appreciated that. She found it sexy he would not have to rely on her. He was independent. He was intelligent. He was good company. The two agreed to meet again. They never called it a date. The two simply led their separate lives and their meetings were just the intersections of their busy day to day routine. They continued this for a year. It wasn ’ t long before they became a part of each other ’ s routine. William was never comfortable with the idea of marriage. His wealth had made him weary of any woman who got too close to him and a lawyer at the end of bad break up was the last thing he wanted. Esther didn ’ t want kids. She did not want to marry a man who expected her to help carry on the family name. She could never work at home. She would never work at home. As time passed, William ’ s hesitations were dismissed the more time he spent with Esther. He, too, did not want to have kids. He wanted a friend. Someone he could share dinner with and not feel a need to impress. Someone he could fall asleep next to in bed, and find comfort in hearing her breathe next to him. He wanted to wake up next to someone for once and not have to worry about an awkward breakfast. He wanted to hold her. Esther echoed William ’ s thoughts. He was never too open about his feelings but she could sense he was the one. She would catch him staring at her a bit longer than normal as a sly grin curled out of the side of his mouth. She felt beautiful around him. He ’ d touch her ever so gently- enough to make her want more. He was never pushy or forward. He was just right. She even stopped drinking. On a summer night, a little over a year after they met. William proposed. There were no theatrics. There was no audience. He simply asked Esther to marry him. He didn ’ t even get a ring. She had enough jewelry. Esther didn ’ t want one. She said yes. The two married the following Thursday at City Hall. Their witnesses were their assistants. They both took long weekends. They needed a break and they figured their marriage was a worthy excuse. They didn ’ t honeymoon or go on vacation. They stayed at home and watched movies they had missed and ate food their doctors told them not to eat. They laughed. They listened to music. They danced. They made love. Twenty five years passed. William was still working on Wall Street but now had a much slower paced job. He could take it easy after living so large for so long. He was kept around his firm out of courtesy. He wasn ’ t far from retirement. Esther had quit her advertising job shortly after they were married. She opened up a tiny book store not far from William ’ s work. They would grab lunch together every day. William made a point of it. Unfortunately, William was not the healthiest man. He lost control of his weight and it had caused all sorts of problems in his body. His knees were growing weak and his heart beat a little slower than it should. His doctor prescribed all sorts of medicine for him but suggested the best thing he did was take it easy. Eat more vegetables. Exercise. Go on a walk. Esther would help him. Through the luck of good genes, she had nothing to worry about but her ulcers that would act up whenever she ate spicy food. She was still beautiful. She was still fit. Long ago were pant suits and pencil skirts. She was comfortable in a sweater and jeans. She was even comfortable in a track suit or gym shorts. She still had nice legs. The couple agreed to exercise more. William bought matching track suits for each other- simply thinking it would be funny. It turned out they were more convenient than he thought. They were comfortable and easy to wear. He could walk in them and not feel like his underwear was riding up or his t-shirt was too tight. Once William retired, they would walk every day. Esther sold the book store but still worked their part-time. She just wanted to be around the books. William found a hobby in crossword puzzles and model airplanes. He was also a part time financial adviser and ran his business out of his office at home. He only had a handful of clients. But it kept him busy. On a particularly beautiful day, William and Esther walked through the park. It was early morning and only the routine joggers and dog walkers were about. It was quiet. William and Esther ’ s breaths danced in the brisk morning air up into the sky in a single cloud. A man sat on a park bench ahead of them. His eyes fixed on a particular object in the distance. He was lost in thought, perhaps thinking about what he wanted for lunch or if he had to be somewhere by a certain time. William and Esther passed him, jogging ever so casually. William smiled at the man and nodded his head. “ Can we slow down for a second, honey? ”, William asked Esther. His age was catching up with him. She stopped in her tracks. She guided him over to the park bench and sat him down next to the man. She pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to him. “ Looks like you could use a refreshment ”, Esther smiled.

[ WP ] A bank robber finds a girl he took hostage cute and shyly asks her out on a date .

I counted seven. Five in the lobby sucking at the tile, while two tellers trembled behind the counter. A frat boy was hesitant to comply, arms strained ready to spring. My foot planted pretty boy firmly to the ground, mud flaking onto his polo shirt. I cocked Ol ’ Shorty and pressed the barrel to his temple. Nothing snuffs the flame of heroism faster than cold steel. He went limp. “ I said don ’ t fucking move! ” A blur of motion over the counter. Blondy was making a run for it. Tommy rattled off two shots. The kid landed with a thud and his momentum took him half across the lobby. A smear of blood, more than you ’ d expect, trailed behind him. I turned slowly toward Tommy. “ You dumb fuck, ” I said, glancing briefly at the body, “ look at this mess! ” I whipped pretty boy ’ s head with the butt of my gun and stalked toward my shit-for-brains partner. I brought my free hand up to Tommy ’ s cheek. “ We ’ re supposed to be professionals, ” I angled his head toward the body. “ Look at what you did. ” “ I-I… ” Tommy said, lips quivering. “ I ’ m sorry Skip, ” he wiped his nose on a dirty sleeve, “ I get s-scared and all, and he just started runnin ’ and— ” “ Shut up, ” I slapped him, “ shut the fuck up! ” My ring caught his right eye with a backhand. Tommy cowered defensively. I heard shuffling movement behind us. Whispers. I swung Ol ’ Shorty around and pulled the trigger. The sound of shattering glass filled the lobby. The remaining teller screamed. Tommy hobbled to her side and patted her shoulder. Saying things like, “ there-there. ” She was rigid, hyperventilating, a goddamn mess. I ’ m sure he meant well, but Tommy wasn ’ t helping the situation. What a job. “ Hey love-nuts, ” I said, prodding him with my gun. “ Help her up and let ’ s get this fucking cash already. ” I made my way toward the front door to stand watch. Ol ’ Shorty licked at five skulls as I passed. Five friendly reminders of just who was in charge. Across the room Tommy nudged the brunette toward the safe. She sniffed loud, shoulders shaking with each turn of the dial. “ You ’ re very pretty, ” Tommy said, pawing the back of his neck. “ This is nothin ’ personal y ’ know. ” “ Oh God, ” she moaned, her voice thick with mucus. “ Maybe when this is all over we uh, ” Tommy cleared his throat, “ we uh, could y ’ know, maybe get some drinks? ” She sobbed into her hands. “ No, no shh, ” Tommy grabbed her hand and placed it back on the dial, “ not the drinking type? ” A sniffle. “ Maybe a cup of coffee? ” Tommy flashed a grin. A pained look. His cheeks flushed red. I rolled my eyes. “ Tommy you dumb fuck, ” I blasted a hole in the ceiling, “ forget tits over there and get the fucking cash. ” The brunette yelped and hit the deck. Tommy jumped with her, dropping his gun. “ Sorry Skip! ” He scrambled for the piece, disappearing behind the counter. “ Oh Christ, no… ” A gunshot. The bastards huddled on the ground twitched in unison. Then, silence. “ Tommy? ” I tried to peer over the counter from the doorway. “ You alright buddy? ” A shriek, wild and furious, was building slowly. A bloodcurdling cry rose from behind the counter. Tommy wasn ’ t getting up. I wrapped Ol ’ Shorty in my coat and hugged my sides. I did what any reasonable friend would do, and made for the fucking exit. The glass doors shattered behind me as I high-tailed out of the building. She was shooting at me, at me! The bitch. I hung a left down the alley to the car. The Cadillac cruised at a legal 45 mph down First. The tan seat sponged blood from the wound in my thigh. Burned like a bitch. I pulled a cigarette from the pack in the passenger seat. I lit the thing, a heavy pull filled my lungs. What a fucking job.

[ WP ] Suicidal Thoughts in Heaven

They said I would be happy here. Eternal bliss with family and friends. Everlasting peace. Be good and God will welcome you. I spent my life being a holy and devout. I lived every single minute working to make it here. I should be happy. They said I would be happy here, but — staring down at little souls flickering about below me, an odd sensation stirred in my chest. I felt no sadness. There is no pain here. There is no loss. There is no hunger, or loneliness, or desire. I wanted to forget this silly concept, leave these pearly gates and visions of serene clouds far behind. Maybe the concept of permanent happiness is just a sham. No — it is n't real. It was never real. Without the concept of sadness, there can be no happiness. Without pain there is no relief. Without hunger there is no satisfaction, without loss there is no gain, without loneliness there is no appreciation for love. Without desire there is no drive. There's no reason to live. Looking down at those flickering lights, I finally understand what the odd sensation is. It's nothing. Absolutely nothing. Eternal bliss is so... empty. They said I would be happy here, did they? They had always said I would be happy in Heaven. Leaning over the edge, my hand outstretched, I could almost feel all that I had left behind. Those little lights I had taken for granted before, now so precious to my newly opened eyes. They were beckoning me, as the empty paradise behind me gently pushed with an exasperated sigh of *finally*. I think I'll find Heaven somewhere — somewhere down there.

[ WP ] A genius has been cursed to only speak one syllable words . How does this affect their life ?

I had ex peck Ted that the curse would change a lot more than it act you all lee had. I had thought that I would not be Abe all to speak prop peer Lee with out words of more than one sill lab bull. But I can say one thing for sure. I have bee come quite good at speak king through phone net ticks. Eve inn when I had to stretch the words or sounds just a lit till bit. I guess I should disc cuss how I was ( cursed/curse said ) in the first place. I use you all Lee do n't like to mess are round with creep pee she it, but I had diss side did to look in to this sup pose did lee haunt did house. I did find out that it was not reel Lee haunt did, but some foe king witch diss side did to curse me with this speech imp Ed I'm mint. I did dent eve in know witch is were reel. But all Tim mate Lee, I have not real Lee been ( cursed/curse said ) at all. True, there are a hand full of words I ca n't quite say a knee more ^ ( like ~~sim~~... ~~sine~~... sine-fool-tame-lee-us? Sim-wool-tan-knee-us? ), but I can still talk to pee pole just fine. ______________________ > Edit: Changed did n't to did dent. Since that is two syllables, and I apparently do n't even know how to read syllables anymore. Also, very to quite, foe king, and `` a knee''. > Also, wo n't add it, but I think it'd be sigh-mull-tan-knee-us. > Edit 2: Informed that lee is actually a standalone word. Shelter from wind or rain. Neat. I only changed a few, though. For... variety. Or something.

[ WP ] After this , nobody will be able to say `` stranger things have happened . ''

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson sat in the downstairs sitting room. John absent minded sipped tea, ready to pitch in once Sherlock came up with a crazy lead. Lestraude paced impatiently. Important people were expecting answers from him, and it was unlikely that he was going to get a straight one out of Sherlock on his first try. Sherlock himself stared into space, deep in thought. Occasionally the silence was broken by heavy footsteps or loud snorting from the elephant in the room upstairs. John decided now would be a good time for his frequently underappreciated humour. `` I would say that stranger things have happened, but I'm not so sure about that.'' `` Could n't agree more.'' said Lestruade. `` I mean, getting an elephant into a regular townhouse is one thing, but how did it get upstairs? The walls floor and ceiling are intact, and there's no way it fits through any of the doors or windows.'' `` Which leaves only one possibility.'' said Sherlock. He straightened up and donned his favourite - possibly only - coat. `` What's that?'' called the confused Detective Inspector. `` They shrunk the elephant.'' as he made brisk pace towards the front door. `` What? How?'' said John as he hurried to catch up with his friend. `` And where are we going?'' `` Down the rabbit hole, John!'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Edit: Probably worth mentioning that John Watson's blog ( Yes, it exists ) mentions this case and it sounds pretty wacky. Ought to give more context to the last line too.

[ WP ] Murder victims can now be brought back to life temporarily for 24 hours to testify in court . You 've now been falsely accused by the dead person whom you 've hated

# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) I got to talk to him. Briefly, just for a moment before they shut off the machines. He looked awful. He'd been bludgeoned to death, beat up with a golf club he'd owned but never got around to using. His head was cracked open, and they'd covered his head with a latex cap so his brains would n't leak out. `` Why'd you do it, man?'' `` You know why.'' `` I do n't! I'm telling you, man, I did n't do it! I know we were n't friends, but I would never have killed you. You *know* that. You were *there*.'' `` Of course I know you were n't there.'' My breath caught in my throat. There were n't any witnesses in the room, nor were there any security cameras. It was a more recent law, made after families complained that they needed more privacy, though people still were n't allowed to touch the bodies. I was alone with him. Hopelessly, hopelessly alone. How do I express it? That one moment. My life in his hands, and me knowing he would use his last hours on earth to completely destroy me. I could n't handle it. I broke down and wailed like a child. `` Tell me who did it! Tell THEM who did it! You have nineteen hours left. You can... recant, or whatever. Just please, please, do n't let them kill me! I'm begging you!'' His eyes, unnaturally and unnervingly clear, stared back at me. `` I'm not being resurrected again. I made a deal with my attorney. After visiting hours, I'm gone. I'm not staying a second longer than I have to. It's too painful.'' I slam my hand against the glass wall that separates us. He does n't react. `` TELL ME WHO IT WAS! I DESERVE TO KNOW!'' `` It was my wife. Are you happy?'' I'm far too busy crying to respond. He is silent. At last, I speak again. My voice is scratchy and raw with emotion. `` Why did you tell them it was me?'' `` Because I still love her.'' A tear fell from his eye. `` Even if she does n't love me.''

[ CW ] Start the story with the sentence , `` Have you ever seen a clown that looked better with the make-up on ? ''

Have you ever seen a clown that looked better with the make-up on? Ah ha, see, you do n't know how to answer that question, do you? Because if the clown's not wearing make-up, how do you know he's a clown? Let me help you out here. I'm not talking literally. I mean figurative clowns. Your class clowns, or your office pranksters, or your funny uncles who like to tell embarrassing stories about how your parents met. Why do these people do what they do? Attention? Malice? Genuine enjoyment at making people laugh? Or maybe they ca n't bear to face the reality of existence when they're not a clown. Maybe they ca n't take the fact that the world has gone mad, and acting like a clown is the only way to deal with this. You know Dave Barry? Humor writer, hell of a clown. He once said, `` A sense of humor is a measurement of the extent to which we realize that we are trapped in a world almost totally devoid of reason. Laughter is how we express the anxiety we feel at this knowledge.'' So why am I telling you this? Why am I bothering—please stop screaming—bothering you with this whole rant? Honestly, I do n't know either. Like I said, the world's gone mad, and I can only laugh at it. Will you laugh too? Or are you in no mood to laugh right now? I can tell it just hurt to lose your finger like that. Want me to cut another one off, to take your mind off your missing pinky? Please stop screaming, it's not time for you to scream yet. Now, I'm sure by now you're wondering why you're here. Well, you're here because I'm lonely. No, it's true, I'm very lonely. I've been sitting here in this abandoned warehouse for hours, and no one's come to visit me, it's very boring! So I decided to, ah ha, invite you in. I know that's risky, on the off-chance you're a vampire, so if you are, please do n't suck my blood. There are all sorts of chemicals in it, it's probably very bad for you. So do you think I look better with my make-up on, or off? Or do you think there's no difference? I think you'd be right, in fact. The make-up's not the point. Now you're getting it! The transformation into a clown comes from *within*! Am I better as a clown, or not as a clown? Irrelevant question! We're all clowns here! Oooooh... listen! Listen! Do you hear that? Someone's coming. Probably Ol' Batsy, come to rescue you! Finally, some company. You can scream now, by the way. Please scream as loudly as you can. Here, I'll take another finger there, that'll give you some... hee hee... impetus! Make sure Batsy can hear you, and make sure you tell him it was his dear old friend the Joker who did this! Make sure you tell him everything!

[ WP ] When you reach the age of 25 , you will respawn back to 25 anytime you die . When you reach age 50 , you no longer respawn if you die .

`` Legate! Legate! The Picts are assaulting Hadrian's wall again'' `` Damn it! do you know how long I have served here boy? CL years, it's the same damn Pict that gets me every time, crafty little bugger I nearly had him last time to.'' `` Sir?'' `` Look boy, your new here, we've been fighting the the same Pict's for over a century, we have our own personal rivals and we all know each over by face a few unwritten rules you ought to know though.'' `` Rules? But they are barbarians!'' `` That they maybe but these lot are n't cruel, they'll slit your throat right quick but they wont torture you, I damn well expect the same from you. You understand that? They could make our lives hell but they do n't this is their entertainment and they respect us as the unyielding wall to prove their melee against once every year.'' `` But should n't we make them fear us?'' `` Fear us? You seen a Pict, blue skin from the war ink, orange hair bloody creepy lot but they are good mean you understand. So do n't piss them off and aim for quick fatal wounds they see you being a prick they'll be right mad and make your last few hours real painful. And do n't be surprised when you die, some of them been at this for CL years.'' `` Umm... okay Legate'' `` Ohh and boy?'' `` Yes?'' `` Make sure the ale stores are good, both sides meet the next day to have right good banquet, nothing like a right piss up and finding the block that stabbed you and shacking his hand. We keep this up and they'll all be speaking and acting like Romans in another century.''

[ WP ] Write a love poem in slam format .

You, with your Man hands, Grasping my attention, my arms, my anything ( You can not touch me ) Fumbled words out of your mind, off of that bland tongue - flip flop mouth And, yes, perhaps I laugh These antics do n't amuse me I'd crumble you up if I took the time Go on thinking that... deep, blooming flower, a beautiful thing, a bird in a cage Fool! I am deep abandonment I am an oleander, a venus flytrap, a raving vulture And, surely, I walk beside you These feet ca n't keep me here I'd set you on fire if I took the time Go on dreaming that... my head on your chest, soothed ocean, words murmured, twilight Fool! I am that sharpened guillitine, a tsunami I am a vile and hard darkness, a haunted scream Fuck you. Go vomit me up, that foul taste. You know nothing. And I am far less than that.

[ IP ] No one ever does .

XR-378 trundled along, its treads crushing dried clods of dirt into powder as it rumbled along the rough, badly maintained track. Once, this track had been paved with smooth asphalt, a road flat enough for XR-378's wheeled brethren to glide along. Now, however, that asphalt had long since cracked and been crushed down by the bots with treads, and those with wheels could no longer traverse this way. XR-378 moved along without concern, however, one large claw held up to protect the item it had gathered. Its protocols gave clear instructions on what to do next, and it could n't think of anything but obeying. Of course, XR-378 did n't really think at all, not really. That's not how robots work. They're given a set of protocols to carry out, and they do so. They continue to do so until their directions are changed in some way, by some external force. XR-378 had n't seen an external force in a long time. If it could think, it might have glanced at its CPU clock and wondered what was taking the next set of orders so long to arrive. However, as mentioned before, robots do n't operate this way. They obey their protocols, and right now, XR-378's protocols told it to proceed back to the base location, bearing the object it had identified and plucked from the brown and nondescript landscape. It reached the base, the ground beneath its treads shifting from crumbling, dry dirt over to metal with regular striations, treads to increase friction. XR-378 headed up a ramp, past several airlocks. Barcode scanners mounted next to the airlocks scanned the panels on XR-378, and mounted cannons momentarily ceased their hum as they lowered at his passage. XR-378 arrived at the scanning facility, where it paused. The arm extended, gripping its find. For several minutes, the chamber filled with the humming of various high-energy devices as the composition of the object was analyzed all the way down to the subatomic level. Finally, a light on a panel above XR-378 lit up, and a bell rang out. XR-378 sat motionless, awaiting orders. Dust fell from a speaker as it crackled into dusty life. `` Organic material identified,'' a smooth, flat female voice called out. `` Querying remote master controller for instructions.'' XR-378 sat and waited. `` Unable to make contact with remote master controller,'' the female voice said after a minute. `` Warning: connection has not been established for one thousand, eight hundred, and seventy four cycles. This exceeds recommended parameters. Override?'' Another pause. `` No override command detected. Local unit will attempt to establish a connection at next cycle. Querying local database for orders.'' This time, after a minute, another light clicked on. `` Local orders determined.'' The flat female voice faded, and was replaced by a choked, half-strangled voice, filled with rage and pain. `` Kill them! Kill all the bastards, kill them all, they dared to attack, this will teach them to mess with-'' The insane, raging voice cut off mid-sentence. `` Local orders recommend destruction,'' the female voice intoned. `` Deposit specimen in appropriate receptacle.'' XR-378 trundled forward as a hatch slid open. The small little green shoot in its claw moved slightly in the breeze before XR-378 dropped it into the chute. A brief lick of flame rose up from beneath as the object was destroyed. `` Return to patrol,'' the female voice commanded, and XR-378 turned and headed back out of the chamber. Its treads once again crunched on the dirt as it resumed its patrol, moving across the dry and arid land. Its red sensors scanned, searching for the next eventual appearance of organic material.

[ WP ] It 's the future , and people no longer die from aging . Barring accidents and murders , death is now a choice . Today , you 're attending a funeral , because last week , your best friend for hundreds of years , had chosen just that .

In my time I had seen many changes. I had witnessed wars and death, but also the start of a new life. I saw the rise and fall of the fourth Reich, and the start of this new eternal world order. And through all of it, I had my friend by my side, my closest friend and my spouse for these two centuries. This day marks the end of mine, and the first of memory. We had seen the destruction from the third world war, and the new life and development to come from it. We served together in the reconstruction lab that discovered the DNA contributor that would continue to allow for this new stage and evolution of life. Together, with our comrades, we saw an end to overpopulation, poverty, illness, and even death. Together we gave birth to new innovation, a rise in intellect, and a drive to explore new worlds of studies. We built this new world order, this utopia. Then, they left. Not physically, not even emotionally, but physically. We had always talked about the concept of life after death, and death itself being natural, but we never thought of acting on it, or at least I never thought of it. There was a note written on a pad beside their body, and they had left a vial of the antiserum we had developed those many decades ago. The note read as follows, Dearest friend, It has come to my time. I CHOSE THIS. Just as we chose to end the necessity of death. I find myself in a lull in life and development that comes with the boredom of an unending life. There is a whole new world that we have failed to explore. The possibility of a life after, the possibility of experiencing true nothingness, true PEACE. As I have taken the serum, I only have a few moments left, and with them I express the sorrow of parting, yet the hope that you will continue until you too come to a point of end. I bid you peace and hope for the future we made together. I leave behind the remaining serum for you when you decide to join me once again. In deepest love, _____ And that was it. They could n't even finish the signature. The pen still in their hand. After looking back at the traditions of the funeral, we determined the best form to rest their body. An open-casket funeral that was a brief recounting of the life and experiences of my friend, and following the crematory that had been cold for so many years began to warm up. As I waited for it to get to the burning temperature, and took out the vial my friend had left. I downed the contents and climbed onto the pallet with them. As I begin to fade I write these events down as a final testament. Before I go dark I leave this world in mind and body with these last words. `` The time we do have, even infinite, is best used to advance the quality of life for humanity, and the ones we love.''

[ WP ] A Satanist is saved by a Christian from a group of muggers . Write about their experience .

“ Sacrilegious bastard! ” One of the men yelled as he drove a booted foot into John ’ s stomach. “ Why don ’ t you pray to your Infernal Majesty for deliverance? ” Another jeered as he kicked the downed man. “ Please… stop… ” John wheezed, his whole body screaming in pain. “ I thought you liked this kinda stuff, devil worshipper! ” A third man yelled, bringing a metal rod down on his shoulder. John yelped, clutching the shoulder. “ What in the Lord ’ s name is going on here? ” A voice commanded. The attacks stopped coming, and John curled into the fetal position, sobbing softly from the pain. “ Them Satan worshippers like this kinda stuff. ” One of the men said, pointing to the prone John. “ So, he ’ s a Satanist? ” The interloper asked. “ What ’ s he done to you? ” “ Whaddya mean, what ’ s he done to us? ” The third man asked. “ It ’ s a bit hard for me to be much clearer. What has he done to you personally? ” “ Well, he ’ s a devil worshipper. ” The second man replied. “ Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. ” The interloper said. “ What has he done to you to earn such a violent attack? ” “ Hey, buddy, what ’ s it to you? ” John opened his eyes to see a smaller man standing up to his three burly attackers. “ Why are you all lovey-dovey to the devil-kisser? ” “ Because he has done me no wrong, I ’ m sure he has done you no wrong. ” The interloper said, staring the one who seemed to be the leader in the eyes. “ Feel free to correct me if he has personally harmed you in any way. ” One attacker opened his mouth, but stumbled on his words. “ Keep it open like that, and something will fly in. ” He closed it a moment later. John started to pull himself up, but collapsed from the pain. “ Well, you ’ re no better than that devil-worshipper! ” The armed man said, raising his pipe. “ Go on, then. Hit a defenseless man. ” The interloper said, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of surrender. The man hesitated, before lowering his arm. The pipe clanged to the floor a moment later. “ Let ’ s go, guys. ” The one who seemed to be the leader said, walking off. The other ones followed him. “ You okay? ” John ’ s savior asked, helping him into a sitting position. “ Who… *kaff*… are you? ” John asked. “ My name ’ s Roy. Come on, let ’ s get you some help. ” Roy said, looping John ’ s arm around his shoulders and helping John to his feet. “ Why… why help me? ” John asked. “ I ’ m… I ’ m everything you hate. ” “ You may be a Satanist, but you ’ re still human. Love thy neighbor. ” Roy said, smiling. “ Come on, help me out here. You still have to be able to bear some weight. ” “ I… *kaffkaff*… think they… broke a rib or two… ” John said. “ I… I think I have… internal bleeding. ” “ Well then, we ought to be quick. ” Roy said. “ Don ’ t your… your preconceptions… ” “ Preconceived notions never get in the way when helping someone. Love thy neighbor. ” Roy chuckled. “ I ’ m repeating myself. But in all seriousness, I couldn ’ t simply leave you there, Satanist, Christian or atheist. You could worship flying space monkeys for all I care, no one deserves that fate. ”

[ WP ] A boy asks a girl out . It 's high school . It 's awkward . Narrate it from the point of view of a nature documentary .

*Scene cuts to a top level view of a high school* A high school, one of the most diverse and challenging ecosystems on the planet. Yet, it is here where a most unusual and atypical display of courtship between two organisms takes place. *Cuts to a scene of a high school boy looking nervous* This, is a high school male. He's paid particularly close attention to his looks today, having taken a shower for the first time in a week, and carefully picked out an attire that he thinks paints him in the best possible light- a pair of colored gym shorts, not too fresh of course, a ruffled T-shirt, and a pair of running shoes. His hair is ruffled, as to ensure he does n't look like a `` nerd'', a particularly unattractive sub-species of high schoolers. He is looking to attract a mate. *Cuts to a girl standing by her locker* This, is a high school female. She can detect the male's wary advances, and is casually pretending to be busy by her locker, as is part of the mating ritual. He will make his advance if he is feeling confident enough to interrupt her seemingly busy routine. He appears to be in luck. While high school females often stand in groups, this particular female is alone. He is free to take the risk. *Cuts to another male standing closeby* A male competitor. ( Let me know if I should continue, got ta get back to work, but this is my first try )

[ WP ] A magical mirror shows your reflection and your future soulmate . You only see your reflection .

I fucked up. I kicked the mirror over -- a mirror I paid $ 500 to see. It showed no one. Just me. Before I could even turn, security grabbed me by the arms and shoulders. `` Fuck off!'' My thin arms struggled against their firm grip. `` There was no one! You hire people to advertise this shit scam?'' I almost elbow the white guy next to me, when the body guards take me by the neck, and push me on the floor. `` You're going to have to pay for this, young man.'' I look up. It's the blonde mustache receptionist. Could n't be more than 25. `` I,'' I sputtered, desperation clogging my thoughts, `` I ca n't. I do n't have anything.'' `` It's nearly $ 500 to see the LoveMate Mirror. That kind of money does n't just *appear*.'' `` It was n't mine.'' I stumble as I get up. `` It was my parents.'' My tears dragged and pulled, a humiliating condensation. `` I was disowned. Please,'' I begged, `` I do n't have anything.'' His step tik'd and tok'd along the cool floor, towards me. `` We'll have to contact your parents then. Why did you think looking at the mirror would help?'' `` I thought if I found my soulmate, I would maybe have a place to stay.'' His deep suspicious eyes examined me. `` Why were you disowned?'' `` I'm gay.'' My lips tremble. I wait for a silent reaction of judgement to pass amongst the bodyguards and the receptionist. The receptionist nodded at the guards, `` It's alright. Let me talk to him, and see if I can figure this out.'' The iron grip was released. I felt relieved as the blood in my arms returned to normal pulse. I followed him into the next room; some empty office room. He closes the door. My jaw cletched. Something about his position was weird. Slouched and uncomfortable. `` What are you doing?'' `` It did n't show for me either. I think they're targetting us -- trying to discourage us or something,'' his lips curve softly. `` I'm gay too.''

[ WP ] You are a retired assassin . The only thing you want is to die . Keeping you from this is the fulfillment of your last contract : A celebrated performer paid you to kill him if he ever tried to make a `` comeback '' as an old man . After years in retirement , the performer announces a world tour .

“ A cup of tea and a sausage roll, please. ” – the old chap ordered when he noticed the headline of today ’ s newspaper: *The main vocalist of Vengaboys is coming back on the scene with a promising world tour. * The old chap dropped his hat. This was the best day of his entire life. The retired assassin has been dreaming of this moment for the past six years. Every fucking night. He never truly believed, even for a second, but the hope has been always somewhere there. And there he was looking at the title in complete disbelief. His life was full of pain, murders and suffering, nothing to be proud of and nothing to tell his children. Luckily, the old chap didn ’ t have any children to disgrace. In truth, he had nothing to live for and the only reason to be still alive was the signed contract with his old friend who was the legendary vocalist of Vengaboys. The conditions were simple - if the famous performer ever tried to make a comeback, the old chap was paid to kill him. There was obviously a reason behind this unexpected comeback and it wasn ’ t simply a desire for the stage and the thousand exalted fans who would shout his name. No, it wasn ’ t money or fame, his friend wanted to die, but why? There was only one way to find out. The old chap was travelling to the airport, knowing that there was no need of a weapon, and everything was going to be easy and clean. The last perfect execution. Approximately, sixteen hours, forty-four minutes and thirty seconds until the final breath of a legend. Then, immediately followed by the pleasurable death of an old retired assassin. – “ Knock, Knock. ” – “ Who ’ s there? ” – “ Death. ” – “ Death who? ” – “ The death you ordered twenty years ago, my friend. ” – “ Oh, hello, old chap. How are you? ” – “ Never been better. But, why Robin, after all these years, why? – “ The comeback? My wife died a few weeks ago, old chap, that ’ s why. I didn ’ t know if you were still alive and I had nothing else to do. ” – “ The agreement? ” – “ Yeah, I know. Let ’ s go. Do you want to hear *Boom, boom* one last time? ”

[ IP ] The City of Palaquin

It has been at least a century since the siege of Palaquin. A century ago, hell had been unleashed on our world. Never had humans ever seen an invasion on this scale before, not even from the barbarians in the North, or the wild creatures in the South. On one particular day, something simply happened, whether out of misfortune or malicious action, they would never truly know. At first, the ground started shaking. They thought it was an earthquake, and there were mixed reactions. Some got out of their homes, and some went back to fetch the children, and elder family members. But only when they watched, did they realise that it was no earthquake. A strange hole-like entrance had materialised a great distance away from the old city of Panchea, and the archers could just barely see it over the top of the hills, a strange, ink-blank void that should not have existed. According to our great-logic thinkers, this simply could not happen. These great-logic thinkers were intelligent people who taught us knowledge, that the sky would always be up, and that the Sun would always rise in the East. They even brought sense to magic, an art not meant to be logical. They were greatly respected in our community. But even they were at a loss for words. Especially when the logic-defying Moments after the void-portal appeared, it expanded, growing bigger, and bigger. And strange creatures emerged. To call them creatures would be tame. These were horrors, never meant to be seen by human eyes. The first few were simply hideous. But as the portal expanded, creature more and more hideous appeared. Then, larger creatures came through. Snarling faces, twisted bodies, and countless snapping jaws, all ready to rip us to shreds. When it was apparent that this was an invasion, the city guards sounded the alarm. Signals were lit, and nervous words exchanged. The demonic horde increased by size every few moments, and were marching steadily towards Panchea. Eventually, the beasts that emerged were so massive that they dwarfed nearby mountains. Massive dragons and flaming giants joined the horde. The demonic army radiated darkness and evil, even while in contrast to the afternoon sky. The archers fired arrows at the abominations. Some died instantly, but most did not. They continued to advance, some even after looking like porcupines from the arrows stuck in their hides. Experimental weaponry was used. It was the first time some had ever personally seen their nation ’ s prized war-cannons being used. They were hulking beasts, in comparison to the common city cannon which could already easily rip a crowd in half. These war-cannons were able to put literal dents in the sides of mountains. And when they were fired towards the colossal beasts, a deafening sound was made. All shots hit their mark, but had put no more than scratches in the armoured flanks of the beasts. Some were used against the common abominations in the horde, with much more success. However, it was still not enough to stop the advance. The King ordered a retreat. All commoners and noblemen were to pack essentials and leave immediately. Some were allowed to stay behind to assist in defending the city. The soldiers were to defend the city at all costs, to buy time for our escape. They were brave soldiers, highly praised as the mightiest warriors in our country. Although we trusted in their abilities to defend, we had seen what the beasts were capable of. Two millions and thirty thousand human lives lost were lost within one day of fighting. The battle was a slaughter, and the victims were our soldiers. Although mighty, they stood no chance against the invaders from the other world. The scout that arrived to tell the King of the news arrived nearly dead, with near half his body missing. And the bloodbath continued. The portal remained open for a month ’ s time. Days after the Battle of Panchea was over, there were enough demons to conquer the world. And that was exactly what they did. When the people of Panchea went North. We passed barbarian villages, still burning, with fresh corpses lying around, and even “ things ” that were mangled so badly that they didn ’ t resemble anything human. They looted supplies, and moved on. Things got so bad, the gods themselves intervened. The humans encountered an army of the demons in a mountain pass, who quickly decided to attack. But then, the valley started shaking. They thought that another gateway was being opened, but that wasn ’ t the case. The mountains suddenly erupted from the ground, and out formed four humanoid giants. These beings were colossal, titanic and were as large as the gigantic beasts we had seen weeks ago. They looked to have skin made from a metal-rock hybrid material, and were incredibly dense. Strangely, they all wore what seemed to be traditional battle helmets, from empires lost generations ago. They all radiated warmth in the cold winter ’ s air, and the surrounding white snow started melting. Steam emerged off their skin, but did not feel hot to the touch. They wasted no time in fighting the demonic soldiers, with one of the titans scooping us up. We were too weak to protest, with lack of sufficient food and energy, and just watched as the battle was fought between the titans and the monsters. In moments, the titans had destroyed the horde, cutting swathes in their ranks as easily as a farmer would cut wheat. They reciprocated the death the demons had caused to Panchea. When we thought they were leaving, they decided to lifted the island. The feeling of immense power and hope, to imagine the strength that must have been needed to lift a whole island off the earth. These were our protectors, sent from the gods themselves. The four titans lifted the island together, one on each side. Later on, we realised that the titans lifted the island so that future demons could not reach the heights of the sky-high island. But our victory was short lived. The death of the demon army seemed to have sent out an invisible signal to monsters everywhere. For twelve days and nights, the titans received increasing attacks from monsters their own size. Every night, there would be a titan going toe to toe with the monsters, and the other three protecting the people safe by lifting keeping the island aloft. Occasionally, small demons would be stomped on, and people would cheer. It was strange that the island seemed to be literally blessed with an abundance of food sources and great conditions for growing crops. There were plenty of animals on the island, and so the people ate feasts in the day, and watched the titans battle the monsters at night. Although the four titans looked relatively the same, they were given the names of Khom, Maan, Yama and Solo. When the monsters came no more, the titans once again became rock. They had done their duty, and they deserved their reward of slumber.

[ WP ] Your first question upon arriving in the afterlife is , `` what do people do here ? '' An elder member describes the phases that people go though once they arrive and warns you about the last one .

John woke up, his eyes struggling as his eyes saw light for the first time in a long time. The first thing he saw was an old kindly man, who chuckled as he saw the surprise and excitement in John ’ s eyes. “ What … is this? ” “ Heaven! The calzones finally did it for you, I think. Dropped dead of a heart attack. ” “ Heaven? ” “ Yes, heaven. Slightly different from the Pearly Gates you hear about on Earth, but a pretty nice place nonetheless. ” “ What do you mean? ” John looked slightly better. He no longer looked as stupefied as he did when he first saw the heavenly light, and his eyes had adjusted to take in the beautiful scenery: a crystal-clear lake was just in front of him, in the middle of a vividly verdant forest. The sound of birds could be heard as the old man talked, with a glittering smile and a serene happiness. However, beneath that John could see a deep wrenching pain, and so his expression became one of mild apprehension. “ We call this place Elysium. In here you can live past your life, free from worldly constraints, and free to do whatever you want for as long as you ’ d like to. I ’ m Mike. ” “ Nice… to meet you, Mike. ” “ You ’ re a good man, John. The best father I ’ ve seen in probably a decade, and the best husband I ’ ve seen in five thousand years. ” John quickly sat up. “ Typical. Newbies like you think eternity and think several times a normal human lifespan, and think you can truly comprehend eternity. Eternity is not a millenium: it ’ s endless and eternal. Well, it isn ’ t really eternal: you essentially slow down time so that you can fit ten thousand years in a single human lifespan. ” “ Well what do I do here? ” “ Most people follow a fairly regular afterlife progression. For the first seventy-five or a hundred years, most are still attached to their earthly lives, like infants who can ’ t leave the caress of their mother ’ s arms. They see who comes to their funeral, follow their siblings and their friends through life. They see people get along with their lives without them in it. This stage ends when one of two things happen: their family and friends die off, or they grow jaded at never being able to say a single word to those who want so badly to hear their voice again, being an inch away but a dimension apart. ” Tears formed in Mike ’ s eyes as he said this, leading John to suspect Mike fell into the latter category. “ For the next couple of millennia, their minds turn to knowledge. This is a required phase: throughout the books all of humanity has written throughout history, every discipline they master, every experience they go through, they learn the wisdom to deal with the onus of immortality. They creep, like a snail, unwillingly every other day to a designated center of learning, where they read every book ever written, look at every painting ever painted, and stuff like that. The schoolboys, as we call them, are usually not happy about the arrangement. “ Well then why do you make them do it? ” “ To teach them how to behave as a citizen in the kingdom of the skies. To teach them how to act. ” “ OK, that sounds like a drag… ” “ Never much of a bookworm? ” “ Yeah. ” “ Neither was I. You learn to like it. ” “ OK, go on. ” “ At this point, they have sufficiently renounced their old ties to the world below to find new people. They find a lover and marry, often several times, to find the perfect match. This usually takes about a century. In heaven, people are nicer: I think it ’ s the humility that comes from having already died once, and also of course that we ’ ve separated the wheat from the chaff. Some people get carried away, though: they write poems to their girlfriend ’ s eyebrows or crap like that. ” Mike smiled as he said this and John chuckled. “ Next, they fight. ” “ Why fight? Isn ’ t this heaven? ” “ False advertising. It ’ s our job to keep Earth from going to hell, no pun intended. We fight the forces of hell to keep Earth from falling into chaos and destruction. Soldiering changes you up here. Although for most folks it ’ s weeded out of them in the first millennia, some are still sons of bitches deep down inside: jealous of honor, sudden and quick in quarrel. Some are vainglorious and desperately trying to impress their fellow man even in the cannon ’ s mouth. This is mandatory for a thousand years, but some stay longer. Don ’ t worry about the time for now: over the years, time seems to pass faster. ” John no longer looked apprehensive, but an almost bemused expression now was on his face. “ Ely-whatever sure has a lot of rules! ” “ Trust me, they ’ re good things, rules. Keep everyone happy. Anyway, on with the spiel. Next is the judgment phase. When people die, they have to either go to heaven or hell. You don ’ t take part in this trial, though. You get a lawyer and a judge and jury decide your fate. If you go to hell, the judge and jury also decide your punishments and penance. You ’ ll have learned law at this point, and you don ’ t forget things in Elysium, so you ’ ll be at turns lawyer, judge, jury, and executioner. ” “ Executioner?! ” “ You have to introduce dead people to their new home, either heaven or hell, and show them the ropes, like I ’ m doing right now. You ’ re close to my millionth defendant, I think: they throw you a party or something for the perfect million, so I ’ ve heard. They give you really fancy suits, with well-lined pockets. Most people here are proud of how far they ’ ve gotten, but they aren ’ t always as vivacious as they once were: you age in heaven, just very slowly. “ Mike said this last part with disdain, as time had not treated him well: his formal beard and severe piercing eyes made him look the part of an old lawyer quite well. “ Who was the worst person you ever defended and what happened to them? ” “ A Redditor I see. You ’ re only the hundredth person to ask that, and they ’ ve all been in the last year. Damn that site. ” The worst person I defended was a man who sold fake treatments to ALS patients to scam them out of the last worldly possessions they would ever have. His verdict was decided in record time, and I hardly bothered trying to argue his case. The jury decided to paralyze him and leave him in a single spot for a thousand years, then one day of release, then another thousand forever. They say he went insane. ” “ Oh. ” “ So after that I can ’ t comment from experience, but I ’ ll tell you what they told me. After that, the world starts to take its toll on you, but we don ’ t have illness up here, so it takes a lot longer. You become lean and almost emaciated. You don ’ t have a job anymore, so you spend the next couple thousand years reading up on what happened while you were fighting and lawyering and judging and loving, and you grow old with your wife. The slippers come on, what was once maybe a deep booming voice becomes full of pipes and whistles, and the world becomes too wide for you. ” Mike ’ s tone had become deathly serious over the last couple of sentences, and his eyes became at once fierce and resigned, and deeply, beyond his superficialities, a profound melancholy had pervaded his demeanor. This change prompted John ’ s expression to change from interest and fascination to deep resounding apprehension. “ What happens after that? ” “ I won ’ t tell you. ” With force John angrily replied, “ What is it? Tell me, I demand it! ” “ You shouldn ’ t… Please…Don ’ t make me… don ’ t be like the others… ” With fury John stood up. Like a cornered dog he lashed out at Mike, screaming. “ Just tell me! ” “ You don ’ t want me to tell you… ” “ Yes! I do! Tell me right now! ” With tears in his eyes again, Mike complied. “ You can go on after that phase, you know: we have the technology to start the whole ride over again. But at that point, what is there to live for? Most people can ’ t bear to think of the terrible burden of all those years doubled, and can ’ t bear the weight of Father Time on their back for any more. ” “ So they die? How can you die in heaven? What happens after that? ” “ Mere oblivion, the end of sensation and consciousness, just dust. Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. ” A single bird chirped in the distance as a deep pain took root in John ’ s mind.

[ WP ] Due to errors in their contracts , which both actors are insisting be followed , Arnold Schwarzenegger is narrating an action movie in which Morgan Freeman is the hero .

Morgan Freeman kicks open the door, he removes his fedora, takes a drag from his cigar and says to the men seated around the table, `` Now, I told you I'd be back.'' The men at the table all reach for their weapons as Morgan starts firing the small revolver in his hand killing six men, a seventh man stands up and takes a swing *The camera pans way back and a muscular white stuntman dressed like Morgan does a dizzing area of gymanstic martial arts moves taking the man out. * *The scene shifts to a close up of Morgan's face* Beads of sweat on his forehead, Morgan nearly shouts, `` You damn idiots, I said I'd be back, why'd you have to go and mess things up, now my favorite suit has a blood stain on it.'' **Arnold Schwarzenegger's voice reads: ** Only one detective had the strength to clean up the mean streets of Detroit, that man was Jack Slater. He would soon learn that this was n't the sunny California from the movies he was used to and he was no action hero here in the real world. Morgan turns and looks at the camera with a smile as he pulls the cigar from his mouth and says, `` Hello, Danny, did you miss me?'' **AC/DC's Thunderstruck starts playing as the bold letters crash through the screen** *Morgan Freeman is The Last Action Hero Too*

[ WP ] Two serial killers stumble upon each other while hiking . Both find the other to be the perfect next victim .

The frayed rope was starting to make me itch, but I knew that I could n't move. I start to feel weak from the hunger, `` Come on girl you've gone hours longer than this.'' Whoa was that a stick cracking? I better play dead now. `` H-hey, a-are you okay?'' `` H-hello?'' `` Hey this knife is so I can help you to get you down. Okay?'' `` The blood is from a coyote that attacked me earlier, but I got away.'' `` Damn it, sorry I wo n't slip anymore, I promise, this is my first time seeing an already dead body.'' `` But you're different maybe we can be friends.'' Ha, this lady is crazy, but no matter, her body will be swinging on my fan with the other two bodies. I wonder if they're still alive. `` Okay, it might hurt when you fall down, sorry.'' `` Do n't worry though, I'll make sure to clean you up real good.'' `` Now you wait here and do n't move while I go get a friend of mine. He's just on the other side of this bend.'' Ok, this is my chance to get her. Maybe I'll wait for her friend that way I can replace the weird guy who's starting to smell up the room. Oh there she i... wait is she dragging a dead man? `` Hey sorry for taking so long, but this guy is heavier than I thought, and he does n't feel like walking now.'' `` But maybe you'll want to walk so I do n't have to drag you both.'' `` hey wait a minute did you just move?'' `` You were n't supposed to move'' `` YES I MOVED, you stupid crazy lady, but since your'friend here is already dead I'll have to take just you.'' `` Now I'm going to pick up this rock and only knock you unconscious.'' Damn this rock is heavier than I thought. `` Um, no I think you got it wrong, I'm going to pick up this big stick and kill you with it.'' `` And do n't bother screaming since there is n't anyone around for miles and miles.'' This lady must be stupid to try to kill me, I've been doing this for almost two years, `` Hey, you know what, I was going to be nice to you, but since you threatened me, I'm going to knock you unconscious, then I'm going to drag you to my house, and I'm going to hang a knife next to you on the fan. The knife will stab into you every time I turn on the fan, and it will come out when I turn off the fan.'' Damn this is such a good idea, I'll start doing this from now on. `` Oh yeah, you're going to have to hit me first, but as you can see my stick is bigger than your rock, I do n't know how you plan on knocking me out but I can assure you that I will kill before you can even get close.'' Damn it she's right `` Fine, look you've already got a friend and since he looks kind of heavy, why do n't I help you get him to your car and then we go our separate ways, okay?'' `` What so then you can kill me while loading the body into my car'' I do n't think so.'' Damn it this lady is smarter than I thought `` No I promise I wo n't kill you while loading up your car, In fact I have a better chance of being killed by you.'' This stupid lady better just let me'help her' before I get mad. `` Fine, you help me and I wo n't kill you, but you need to promise not to follow my car to my house.'' `` Okay, I wo n't follow your car.'' Now can you put the stick down and I'll take his legs while you take his arms and we'll lift him up.'' `` Okay. We have to go back the way I came in because it's shorter than going around the whole loop.'' `` Okay, let's just go.'' Wow does this lady think I'm stupid or something? I'll show her who's the dumb one really is. -- -- -- -- - 2 hours later -- -- -- -- - `` Okay my car is the silver mini van.'' `` Well obviously that's your car, it's the only one here besides my car.'' Wow this lady is stupider than I thought, maybe she is why we have the'dumb blonde' stereotype. Oh well I'll help her and then I'm going to just leave and kill two people tomorrow. `` Hey we need to set him down so I can get my car keys.'' `` Okay, I think you can load up his body on your own, so I'm going to leave now. Bye'' Finally I can be gone of this crazy stupid lady. -- -- -- -- - 3 days later -- -- -- -- - I think I'll go out for dinner tonight but where? Red Lobster sounds good. Yeah and with what money? Oh fine How about... IN-N-OUT! Ugh, fine. -- -- -- -- - 30 minutes later -- -- -- -- - `` Hi, welcome to `` In-N-Out. What can I get you?'' `` Hi, yes can I have a cheeseburger and a strawberry shake please.'' `` Okay for here or..'' `` Wait, Are n't you the girl from the trail'' Oh what luck, there's the stupid lady. `` Hey, I think you've got the wrong person.'' `` No no I'm pretty sure you're the one form the trail three days ago, you helped with that'thing', remember?'' Damn it she know who I am `` Oh yeah I remember you. Let me order some food and then we'll talk, okay?'' Damn it why'd I say that? `` Okay'' `` Okay, sorry about that, I met her a couple of days ago. Anyway, this is for here.'' `` It's all good. And your total is going to be... five dollars and sixty-seven cents. okay out of six dollars, your change is 33 cents, Your order number is 28. Thank you.'' `` Okay thanks'' -- -- -- -- - 10 minutes later -- -- -- -- - `` Order number 28 please 28.'' `` Oh hey that's me, I'll be back.'' `` I'm number 28. Ketchup or mustard? No thanks. Thank you.'' Dang this smells so good. `` Okay, as I was saying, after you left I got into my car with my friend and we went home and had a tea party. Any then we watched a movie and he started to get frisky, we went upstairs to my room, and he said he wanted to take a bath, so we took a bath together. He was AMAZING in the bathtub, and then in bed he was even better. I think I left him out of breath even.'' Whoa this lady is terrifying and crazy `` Well sounds like you had a good time. I went home all alone, took a bath alone, and went to bed alone. But the next day I made two friends and we all three had a great time in bed, although they were both a little soft, but it's okay I still had a great time.'' I think I'm starting to like this lady `` Hey maybe you want to go out on the trail with me and we can make a couple of friends and have a party at my house.'' `` That would be awesome. How about tomorrow?'' `` Tomorrow sounds great, what time do you want to go out?'' `` How about at 9 in the morning?'' `` Sure sounds good.'' Ha, we're going to have a good time alright. `` Okay well I'm done with my food, and I have to go to a meeting for work, but I'll see you tomorrow.'' `` Okay, bye.'' We are going to have an awesome party I think I'll need to get some supplies though. Home depot here I come. -- -- -- -- -25 minutes later -- -- -- -- - `` Is this all you want.'' `` Hi yes this is all.'' I wonder if he's even a little suspicious of all the rope and the little shovel? `` Okay great, your total is eleven fifty.'' `` Okay here's twelve and keep the change.'' `` Oh, wow, thank you, have a great day.'' `` Alright, thank you.'' I bet he is suspicious but he just did n't want to say anything. -- -- -- -- - The next morning at 9 in the morning -- -- -- -- - `` Hey friend how's it going?'' I wonder if she got supplies too, maybe I should ask. Nah that would be rude. `` Hey, did you go out and buy supplies? Because I did if you did n't.'' Wow maybe she does n't know how to be polite `` Oh, wow yeah I bought some rope and a shovel.'' Why did I even buy a shovel She probably already has one. `` Okay great. It thought about a shovel but I figured you might already have one.'' Oh wow, how does she get rid of her bodies then? `` Oh, um okay, good thing I bought one then. Shall we get this party started then?'' `` Yeah, let's go.'' -- -- -- -- - 6 hours and two male bodies later -- -- -- -- - `` Hey, how about we put the bodies in your car since you've got a bigger car. And you follow my car to my house, okay?'' `` Okay, sounds good to me.'' Okay now's my chance to get back at her, but how? Hmm maybe if I speed she will go over too, and then when I see a police officer I'll slow down and hopefully she wo n't. Okay there's a police officer I better slow down. `` WEEOOW, WEEOOW, WEEOOW'' `` PLEASE PULL OVER NOW!'' `` I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN, PULL OVER NOW!'' Oh good, he caught her. `` Goodbye you stupid, annoying, crazy lady. This trail is only for me to kill people on.''

[ WP ] [ CW ] Make me fall in love with a character in 200 words or less .

I saw you curled in a cotton- soft maple-red sweater arms stretched and resting between your knees. Across the table I saw your teeth shine in smiles and your train-track thump-thump-thump of a laugh, lighter and more dove-like than the calls of the doves themselves. You lean in close — our eyes almost kissing — and then pull back out to sip your tea and laugh, laugh, laugh again. Your legs cross, uncross; your gaze, caught between my own and the finger of heat smoke rising from the tea, and your hands clasping, unclasping, stroking each digit in the same wanting motion. I saw you watching, in turn my eyes, lips, hands, feet, my flush — to match the too-bright light waxing and waning against your vacuum iris — folding against the edges of space — do you feel it too? — this black hole between us, sucking us, dragging us gasping and panting, lovingly into this new, pregnant darkness.

[ WP ] A world where sins leave a physical mark on the sinner .

`` Get out.'' I looked up from the chicken breast that I was inspecting to see a rather ugly man looking back. A sheen of grime and sweat coated his hairy arms, and the rest of him was covered by an apron and long white pants. He wore a far too small for him arm band that was probably an attempt to cover a theft mark, but I did n't really care. `` Excuse me?'' `` Get out.'' `` I just want to...'' `` Now.'' *she screamed as she died* My hand instinctively went to my neck, the left side, expecting to feel the soft touch of my scarf, but I only felt skin. *Shit* *her flesh burned from her body, curling like old paper* My scarf had sagged down on my body just enough that my mark was visible. It was small, like all sin marks, symmetrically jagged, and contained a tiny circle in the center. It meant one thing. Murder. *it was all my fault* `` Please let me just...'' *I did n't want this to happen* The man pulled out a gun and aims at my head. I flashed back to a news report of a murder-marked being shot and killed while trying to enter a casino. The following court case had determined that the killer, a middle aged patron of the casino, to be in the right. This decision was supported by the lack of a mark on said patron, so it was decreed that murdering murderers was completely moral. I raised my hands above my head, and slowly backed away. The man walked with me, coming closer with every stride. A bead of sweat rolled into my left eye, causing me to wince. The man did not like this. `` Who are you winking at?'' he shouted, `` Who is with you?'' `` Nobody,'' I answered. *I swear I did n't trip her* Wrong answer. `` You liar! You fucking lying bitch!'' *I did n't mean to trip her* I had two options, I could either stand with my hands above my head and risk being shot, or I could run and risk being shot. I chose the latter. There was a loud sound and my right shoulder exploded with pain. I stumbled, but did n't fall. I could feel monumental pain pulsing directly from my shoulder to my brain, but nothing below that. My right arm was a heavy deadweight, pulling me to one side as I ran and causing me to barely dodge the next shot. The door was ten, maybe eleven paces away. The world was slowing down, and I could feel and see everything around me. I had felt this before, a long time ago. *the fire burned my back* Another explosion of pain, this one near my spine. All of my muscles disconnected from my consciousness, and I collapsed, a convulsing screaming mess. *you have sinned they told me* The world around me shuddered to a stop. I could see *her* *did I sin* *she shook her head* *they wronged you* My convulsions became twitches. *not fair* *Not Fair* *NOT FAIR* My twitches ceased. *nothing is fair*

[ WP ] Your 11 year old nephew just ate 2 of your LSD gummy bears 45 minutes ago and you have to make sure he makes it through sane

I checked my pocket again. There was no way it could have happened. The little fat bastard. Pilfering sweets from my blue jeans while I slept after consuming the six millers I bought from the 7-11. The remaining general tso's takeout chicken fermenting on my t-shirt. `` Zachariah!'' I screamed, `` Zachariah, where's my fucking candy?'' I found him upstairs, urinating his name onto the floral carpet. `` Zachariah you have consumed twelve hundred micrograms of LSD.'' He looked up at me, wild-eyed and confused. `` Can you hear me, boy?!'' `` There is no nowhere,'' he said. `` Right,'' I said, `` very good.'' `` Zachariah, we're going to wait this out. We're going to get you some chicken in you, some food to absorb the chemicals.'' I fished a chunk of bird out of the styrofoam container and dangled it above the boy's mouth. `` Eat.'' `` No.'' `` Damn you, Zachariah.'' `` Names mean nothing. Only the ego exists until it melts away, then and only then will you know true freedom.'' I smacked the boy and told him to get his act together, and he did for a moment. Should I call the police? He may be a threat. I decided against it and took four tuinals to soothe myself. `` Zachariah,'' I slurred, `` You are a very astute young man, very astute.''

[ CW ] Write a story without using any letters from the Z-M row of your keyboard

“ Would you just take out the stupid trash already? I literally told you to like two hours ago! Do what you're here for, God ”! “ Oh! Sorry I forgot! I ’ ll do that right away ” Elly speedily replied. “ Holy shit, would you like her to wipe your ass while she ’ s at it ” Doug responded to will ’ s request. “ Hey Doug, here ’ s a good idea, shut the hell up, also stay out of our life ” Will angrily yelled. “ You shut up! Why do you always treat people like they ’ re useless ” Doug yelled. “ It ’ s okay Doug, I ’ ll just take it out! You should just stay out of it ” Elly whispered. “ See idiot, she ’ ll take it out. Just like I told her to ”. “ Why do you let this jerk talk to you like that? Jesus Elly why do you date Will? He just treats you like trash ”! “ Doug just stop, please! You ’ ll just get Will to a worse state. He ’ s already furious ”. “ Take the sluts word Doug. Shut up or get hit ”. “ Elly get out of the way ” Doug yells as he throws a fist at Will ’ s head. After a hit to the jaw, Will pushes Elly towards the wall. Her head takes the full weight of the hit; she slowly shuts her eyes as she falls to the floor. Without a drop of worry for Elly who lay still, Will shouts wildly, “ I ’ ll kill you right hear so you should go ” “ WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR ISSUE WILL? You hit her! Who does that? You asshole, I ’ ll stay here till she ’ s up! So you should go or I ’ ll kill you ”! Doug rushes to Elly, he shakes her with hope that she will wake up. As he looks at Elly, Will gets a sharp rod he keeps with the fire pit. He walks towards Doug who is still with Elly. Doug feels Will ’ s leg push his shoulder. Just as Doug looks at Will, he's hit with the rod. Doug hears a high squeal through his left ear. He fights the urge to hit the floor, slowly raises his self up, lifts his fist, hits Will ’ s eye so hard that Will loses sight for a little. Will grasps his eye as he yells “ This pussy is worth shit all ”! Will rushes out the door. Just as he goes, Elly lifts her head fearfully. She yells “ Just stop! I ’ ll take it out! Just stop ”! Doug helps her up, “ It ’ s ok Elly, he left! You ’ re safe! He left ”! he says quietly. Elly hears that Will left, she is at a loss for words as she hugs Doug.

[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Leave A Story , Leave A Comment - Sea to Shining Sea Edition !

`` They ca n't get out! They're all going to die in here! Oh God, they're killing each other!'' It was the same bright red sharpy on the walls of the men's room at the civic center station. This was n't the first time I had seen these dark messages. They had been popping up over the past couple of weeks. I had seen a pic on the internet of something similar at a housing authority complex in Oakland a couple days ago. It was on the wall out front. It said, `` He did n't do anything! Leave him alone!'' People thought it must be some kind of political statement about the police or about gang violence. They had cameras, and the poster said they had seen a white guy, kind of disheveled, with a backpack. He was likely homeless. I saw homeless people all over the subway system. Some of them had mental problems, and some were just flat out creepy. This guy seemed to be both, but I had n't seen him. I was finishing my shift on a Friday night. A friend of mine who also worked for BART wanted me to come to Berkeley with him. There were some college kids who we hung out with on the weekends. We just listened to music and smoked weed mostly, but a new girl had joined our group. I was hoping to see what might happen between her and I, so at midnight, I was headed for Ashby station. At Ashby, I wandered around looking for Kevin. The traditional hippy with a guitar stood on the southbound platform singing a kind of mysterious old song which I recognized. `` And the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and tennament halls,'' he sang, as I approached my friend, and we left the station together. I thought about the words written in the bathroom and the others I saw on the wall near the southbound platform at the beginning of my shift. `` She's little! Her mom's freaking out! They're stepping on her! They're running right in to it!'' I pulled a handful of quarters from my pocket and tossed them in to a fastfood cup the guy had by his foot. He smiled and waved at me as I started up the stairs. I'm at Civic center again. It's Monday, and as soon as I clocked in, there was another message on the wall, this time at the northbound platform. `` Oh God, she's throwing up blood! No, stop it! I smell more of it! Go the other way!'' I spritzed some cleaning solution on a rag, and whiped it from the wall as usual. The rag looked red as if it had been stained with blood. It reminded me of the dream I had the night before. Friday night had been fun. I had talked to the girl. Her name was Lilly, and I got her number. I had forgotten about the creepy writing on the wall until Sunday night. I was walking around the station, I did n't know which one, and no one was there. The stations were always open, and there were always people there. The air rieked of something like feces or vomit, and there were random blood stains on the walls, the floor, the steps. I could hear a guitar somewhere, but I could n't see the musician. I recognized his voice when he started to sing. First, it was the song from before. His voice semed to come from diferent places. First, it was the north platform, then the tracks somewhere down the tunnel, but as I looked, it was the opposite direction. On the wall of the tunnel, I saw in large letters, written in the same bright red sharpy, `` redrum,''. I scoughed, `` Really, what is this, the Shining?'' The hippy's voice, already sounding creepy as it echoed off the walls of the empty station, now took a darker note; as did the key of his playing. He sounded as though he were taunting me as he sang, `` People are dieing. Children are crying. watch the blood run down. watch the blood run down.'' It had gone from creepy to cheesy. I had done this in a couple of other nightmares I had experienced. It made me feel better, but as I turned around, a girl lay right in front of me. She was about five or six. She lay on the platform seizing, bloody foam dribbling from her mouth. I awoke in a cold sweat. I shook off the memory and kept working. There were a couple trash cans I needed to empty. I got to it. `` They're choking! Everybody's choking! They ca n't get out!'' This was on a diferent wall. I cleaned it near the end of my shift. This time, I almost caught the guy. He had a few days of facial hair growth, but he had this wild, kind of panicked look in his eyes. His hair was sticking out in all directions, and his clothes were dirty. He was definitely homeless. I yelled for the transit cop standing near the train which was taking passengers at the time. I pointed, he's been putting grapheeti up.'' The cop shrugged and pointed to ward the crowd attempting to board, but he spoke in to the mic of his radio. The guy saw this and darted. They got him the next day. I was off, but I heard the transit cops talking about it on my scanner. One of them is a friend of mine, so I called him later. `` Hey, what's goin on?'' `` Not much, how have you been Jake? I have n't heard from you in a good while.'' `` I've been around. Hey, did you hear about that guy writing weird creepy stuff on the walls?'' `` Which one?'' `` The one who always used a bright red sharpy and wrote a bunch of paranoid shit on the wall.'' `` Oh him. Yeah, we caught him today. Apparently, he's been living in the tunnels somewhere around the embarcadero. He was actually reported missing from Berkeley.'' `` wow really?'' `` Yeah, he was a student at UC down there, and he just poofed. His roommate got worried and called the police. They took him to the hospital. He seems out of his head.'' `` Did they say what was wrong?'' `` It seems like some kind of schizophrenia. That stuff always shows up right about the time a person reaches college. He probably did n't know he had it.'' `` Yeah, either that, or something at school stressed him out, and he snapped.'' `` That could be too.'' It was n't a week later when everything happened. I sat at home that day, because I was n't supposed to go in until later, but the panicked voices in the background were my first indication that something was wrong. `` I need assistance up here now! `` said a female transit officer. `` Where are you?'' asked the dispatcher. `` She replied, but the background noise drowned her out.'' `` Adam fourteen repeat.'' `` This is adam thirty five at the stairs of Civic Center. We've got a big crowd crush here. People are running toward the exit.'' `` Okay, adam fourteen, are you at civic Center?'' No response. `` Adam fourteen, you copy?'' `` two sixty, I've got people on the tracks south of Civic center. I'm making an emergency stop, but I do n't think I can do it in time.'' `` two fifty five. I just left 19th, and something just happened at the terminal. There was a big panic, and you could smell something real bad. I closed the door, but I think there's an emergency onboard.'' Near the end, another signal fought with his. When the train operator stopped talking another voice continued, `` I'm in car four. There's some kind of gas in the car. We've got three people affected. We need ems now!'' Absolute chaos ensued on the radio for the next few hours. My boss called me, `` Have you been watching the news?'' he asked. `` no, but I've been listening to the scanner.'' `` Well, do n't come to work tonight. We're keeping all nonessential staff home.'' `` No problem.'' The next day, Kevin called. He had been part of a crew to help go through and look for people who were missing. He was an emt, so he had worked the night of the gas attack. There had been gas grenades set off on the platforms at 19th street in Oakland, Ashby, and Civic Center. Then, more had been set off near the stairwells as people fled toward them. It was mustard gas, a horrible way to go. It made a person cough until pieces of lung came up. Their lungs would simply fail eventually. The deathtoll was rising by the hour at one point. `` Hey, you hearing all this shit?'' he asked. `` Yeah, it sounds really bad.'' `` Oh God, at Civic Center, I went to this bathroom. A bunch of people went in there to get away from it, but the gas followed them. They could n't get out, so they started clawing and fighting with each other to get out. I will never get the way those bodies looked out of my head.'' He sounded truly traumatized, his voice quiet. `` Good God!'' I said, there was nothing else to say. The trouble continued after the attack. Noone directly took responsibility, but everybody from jihadists to anarchists braged about it online. The government started going after all kinds of groups. The constitution was never talked about. Asking for a warrant was a great way to get beaten down. One night, a guy in Oakland went outside his apartment building and started yelling. It was a bunch of stuff about the cops and the police state that was cropping up now that this gas attack had happened People ignored him, but a cop heard him and called for back-up. Four or five officers came to help, and they all threw him down and jumped on top. They tazed and beat him until he was dead. It was n't the first casualty, and I knew it would n't be the last. As I watched the news, I noticed the complex I had seen in the picture of the writing someone had posted online. `` He did n't do anything! Leave him alone!'' The bright red words still appear when I close my eyes. Sorry Frisco, but too many stories are set in New York, so I need another subway system.

[ WP ] `` You may have one wish granted . '' `` I want all my debts cleared . '' `` How much do you owe ? '' `` You misunderstand . My debts are not monetary . ''

Gehenna left the crypt, her prize in hand. As thieves went, she was second to none. She covered her head and began walking. The bazaar was long closed by now and the courtyard, normally filled with merchants and goods and noise, was simply a wide open expanse covered in sand. Reaching the inn, she went around, to where the camels were tied. Careful not to disturb the sleeping animals, she climbed the nearby tree and entered her room through the open window. Safely back inside, she shut the window and lit a lamp. She took out the ring she'd found in the crypt and studied it in the light before putting it ring on her finger. She turned it clockwise, and read aloud the inscription. She saw nothing. `` Why --'' `` I am the genie of the ring.'' The voice seemed to come from all directions. `` What is your wish, Master?'' For a moment, Gehenna was overcome with the urge to wish for a different life, one where she was n't alone. She pushed it aside. This was more important. Besides, she was better off alone. Heart pounding, she whispered, `` Cl-Clear my debt.'' `` Very well, how much do you owe the moneychangers?'' `` You misunderstand, my debt is not monetary.'' `` What then?'' `` Years ago, when I was a young girl, I found myself starving, abandoned in the streets. I wandered, alone until a poor young couple found me. They let me come into their home and cared for me. But, after everything, I was mistrustful. I took a little bit of money and fled in the night. I've felt guilty ever since. I've gone back there many times since, but I've never seen them. The neighbors say they do n't know the people I mean. Now that I have you, I want to pay my debt to them, finally.'' The genie left the ring on a gust of wind, before returning a few moments later. In its absence, the golden ring shone black. `` It is done.'' A shadow appeared in the lamplight. Turning behind her, Gehenna saw a young child, dressed in rags. `` What is this?'' `` The couple were killed three days back. This is their orphan.'' `` Oh.''

[ WP ] After dying , God asks you : `` So , how was heaven ? ''

`` What?'' `` You know, the place where you just were.'' `` What are you talking about? That was Earth.'' `` No, that was heaven.'' `` This is a joke, right?'' ``... No, I'm pretty serious, bud.'' `` *That* was heaven? Seriously?'' `` Hey man, do n't hate. That took me like six whole days.'' `` That was a piece of crap! You know how shitty my life was?'' `` Yes, but I tuned out half way through. You were getting boring... and smelly.'' `` Could n't you have at least helped me?'' `` Pfft, why?'' `` I do n't know, because you're benevolent or some shit?'' `` Hey, watch your language man, that's not cool. My son's here.'' `` Sorry Jesus. Anyways, why did n't you do anything to help me?'' `` Did n't feel like it.'' `` What?'' `` Just did n't feel like it.'' `` Are you kidding me? What the he- heck kind of attitude is that?'' `` Hey, fuck you man. You made your choices.'' `` No, fuck you! Is this some kind of joke? Satan, are you there?'' `` Nah, he's dead. Been for a while now. Overdose.'' `` Well, alright... but what about the pain and suffering in Heaven?'' `` Well, if you did n't know either of'em, how would you know what heaven would feel like? Remember the whole'count your blessings' deal?'' `` I... well... shit.'' `` Mhmmmm, got you there, did n't I?'' `` Well you do n't have to be a little shit about it. So uh... what happens now?'' `` What do you mean?'' `` You know... now that I've died in heaven and all...'' `` Well, I guess you're going to hell. It's like heaven, but surprisingly cold. I know, weird right? I kinda fucked that up by accident. Also, there's some wicked poutine down there. You just have to shovel every morning and wear like three layers each time you go outside.'' `` Canada?''

[ WP ] You 're a telepath and use the power to cheat on exams . One day you can hear the voice of the new teacher echoing in your head 'NO CHEATING IN MY CLASSROOM ! '

Telepathy has run through my family. But it's weird, from what I know, it's only me, my cousin Leon, my Aunt Angie, and my great-grandpa Maurice. I've always used it to cheat on tests, but more recently, I've been a lot more cautious. Why you may ask? It's all Mr. Erik Roffmer, my Marine Biology substitute teacher's fault. `` Hello students, as you all may know, Mrs. Dewan is out on maternity leave, so I'll be your teacher for this semester. My name is Erik Roffmer, and I hope we'll have a great semester.'' God he's so annoying, he always is wearing themed ties, walking around with a bounce in his step, and his annoying Australian accent. It'll just be like Mrs. Dewan's class, do nothing, then copy off Mark Poncia's tests. After two months of Mr. Roffmer's annoying ass, we finally had a test. `` You all know the rules. No cheating, no phones, blah blah blah. Now start on your tests.'' Pretty quickly, I went straight into Mark's mind. As I was rummaging through his knowledge on this, I heard Mr. Roffmer's annoying Australian accent in my head. **'' That means you, Jeannine. `` ** I almost fell out of my desk. *'' You can read my mind? `` * **'' That's correct. I know how you think my accent is annoying, and my ties are stupid. I also know you're a cheater. And also, Logan Phillips? You like him? He's an arse. `` ** *'' Hey! Do n't bring him up! `` * I glared at him from my desk, he was suppressing in laughter. **'' I'm just messing with you. I could n't care less about what you do with your power. `` ** *'' Does n't that make you a bad teacher? `` * **'' Yeah, but nobody else knows about this. Also, I do n't even have a teaching degree! `` ** *'' What? Then how the hell are you-'' * **'' You still have much of your power to learn. See me after school, and I can teach you. `` **

[ WP ] The cooties have mutated to become lethal . Physical contact with the opposite sex is considered worse than even Ebola .

When I saw her... Everything froze. I was terrified and filled with a wonderous lust all at once. Other than off of a school computer screen, I had never seen one in real life. It has been sixty four years since females had been deemed fatal to the male population. They were all carriers of the worst disease known to male-kind... Cooties. In history class we that thousands upon thousands died from the Cootie epidemic. Males and females alike were on the verge of extinction until a dozen world leaders decided that the sexes needed to become quarantined from each other. The female world leaders accused the males of giving them the Cooties and said it was all our fault. Us males knew better and our scientists had indefinite proof that it was the females who had contracted the Cooties and were spreading it. The negotiations got nasty but in the end the females wanted to separate themselves from us just as much as the males wanted to separate from them. We built walls. Drew up maps and boundaries. Put bodies of water between us. From the moment I was drained and plunged from my tube I was taught that females were unstable, raging bimbos infested with Cooties. That if we were ever to come in contact we were to purge and sanitize immediately or it would be the end of us all. Yet there I stood, mystified. I wanted to yell out, `` Halt! Stop or I'll shoot!'' I just could n't though. The gate had been breached, my radio was furiously rattling with my sergeant inquiring as to what the situation was. My brain was pulsating with adrenaline and my body -- completely numb. All the while she just stood there, staring right back at me. She was in a green jumpsuit with long brown hair, rucksack on her back, and at least one sidearm on her right hip from what I could see. I was wary but there was only one word that was scrolling through my mind; Beautiful. She took slowly turned toward me and began to take a step and I tensed up... `` Stop right there! Do n't move!'' I yelled. I cranked open the gas on my thrower and aimed it in her direction. `` You are breaking international law and committing an act of war, do n't move a muscle or I will light you up.'' She just stood there staring at me blankly. She seemed to be just as intrigued with me as I was with her, however, I was beginning to freak out that she was n't responding at all to me. `` Do you talk or something or what the fuck?'' I said. After a couple seconds she nodded and said, `` I do. Please, do not hurt me.'' Her voice was melodic and sweet -- it surprised me and left me startled me. `` Wh-Why did you break through the gate? You know you are breaking the law.'' `` I had to. I did n't want to, but I am on the run,'' she said. `` On the run from who?'' `` Our government, I am a researcher at our Disease and Control Facility in Bogata. What we were working on was a vaccine for the Cooties.'' `` You mean, you're a scientist? A woman scientist?'' `` Uhh, yeah. Anyways... We were able to actually put together a vaccine for the Cooties. The Female Parliament deemed it a danger and unnecessary risk though and wanted to close the program down. And thats why I am on the run! I think we could finally after all these years bring peace between Females and Males.'' I was hesitant. I wanted to believe her but everything she was saying went against everything I had learned about the opposite sex. `` I should n't even be talking to you. I should've torched you the moment I saw you. Do n't you realize that you just being here could expose me and millions of other to Cooties?'' She looked agitated, `` what are you stupid? Did n't you hear anything I said? I have a vaccine.'' `` And why should I believe you? You are just a conniving, shifty bitch. You are just trying to trick me.'' `` And you are just a thick-headed, filthy baboon, but you know what? I did n't believe everything I read in the textbooks growing up but now after meeting you I ca n't even...'' `` Williams! Goddammit! What in the hell is happening over there?'' My radio interrupted. I picked up my radio, `` Look, I do n't know what to tell you. I have an obligation and whether you are telling the truth or not... I ca n't help you.'' She began to look extremely distressed. I did n't know what to think. She was the most attractive thing I had seen in my entire life. What if she did really develop some sort of vaccine? She did n't seem as irrational and barbaric as I was taught in school -- a tad annoying maybe, but other than that she was pretty normal. I pushed down the button on my radio to respond, `` Sarge this is Private Williams...'' She mouthed the words `` please'' to me as I stood there. `` Williams. What the hell is going on down there? Report!'' I glanced at her and responded, `` there is some damage to the fence here... nobody in sight though... possibly some kind of animal or something.'' After a few seconds Sarge squawked back, `` A repair vehicle has been dispatched to your sector. Cover the exposed area until they arrive and repair the fence. Understood?'' `` Yes sir.'' I holstered my radio and looked on at her as she let out a breath of relief. `` The trucks are going to be her any minute. You need to go back through the gate.'' `` I ca n't, If I go back they will put me on trial and I will be executed.'' `` If you stay here, I am going to have to kill you. I do n't want to but I will have to. I am trying to give you a chance here, do n't you understand that?'' `` I am dead if I stay, dead if I go back so what's the difference tough guy?'' I felt weird. All these feelings that I had never experienced before were just rushing through me at ridiculous pace. I felt as though I was going to just drop through the floor. She sighed and said, `` Look Williams, I know this is a lot to handle and understand. And if I have to die then I have to die. But I just had to know if this vaccine worked or not. Have n't you ever wondered what it would be like? To go back to the time before the outbreak? My mother said that they were wonderful times then. Males and Females are supposed to live together peacefully, its how its supposed to be.'' My eyes began to well up, `` Kevin.'' `` What?'' `` My name is Kevin,'' I said as I took my pack off and threw my gun to the ground. We both quickly fell into each other's arms and shared a passionate kiss. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before in my entire life. I had only known what a kiss was from old movies and books and man I never wanted to do anything else as long as I had lived. I pulled back from her lips and smiled. She was also smiling, `` So far so good,'' I said and went back in for another kiss. She was absolutely riveting. I was n't thinking about anything else. Sarge, the Border Patrol, even whether the vaccine was going to work or not. All I could think about was leaving it all and taking off with her. Starting a new life with... With... Wait a minute. I pulled back again, `` Hey, whats your name?'' She laughed, `` Ana,'' she exclaimed. `` Ana, a beautiful name,'' I said. Just gazing at her I could n't believe how lucky I had become. `` Look Ana, we need to get out of here before the truck comes and they kill the both of us. I can hide you for a few days until the time is right. We can show the Male Council and the world that the vaccine works and that Males and Females can live together again.'' She held my hands and looked down at them, `` I do n't know Kevin. Are you sure you are up to taking on such a huge endeavor in your state?'' `` What do you mean Ana?'' I was puzzled. `` Are n't you feeling weak?'' All of a sudden it hit me. Almost like all the energy from my body had been drained down through my feet and all was left was my fleshy body and bones. What the hell was happening? My head and stomach began to grow with increasing pain. Ana began to laugh and the echo clouded my head. `` Aw, you poor, predictable, inferior male.'' I dropped to my knees in pain. `` Ana... What the fuck?'' `` I'm sorry Kevin that you had to be my first victim. But it was just too tempting to resist.'' I looked up at her,'' You... cunt. You.. Lied...'' `` Now, now... no need for name calling sweetie. I did n't lie, the vaccine worked perfectly. I feel fine, save for some mouthwash. God, you guys really do n't brush...'' What a fool I was. Suddenly there were teams of females running through the breached fence, moving in all directions. I was beginning to fade. I have doomed my sex. Soon my body will be completely consumed by the disgusting Cooties and within a few days... The rest of Male-kind. EDIT: I apologize in advance for everything grammer-related. Came out looking pretty rough...