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[ WP ] While walking , you notice everyone recoiling from a young woman . you speak to her to find out why . through her surprise , she explains she is death and everyone else sees a person based on how they feel about the concept of death . You 've never seen a more beautiful or inviting person .

The station was near empty this time of night. The cold grey fog had swept into the corridors turning the lights into hazy yellow clouds. It was perfect, after weeks of scouting the stations on the J line I had found a time when the trains still ran, but had minimal people. As I come up to the end of the platform I glance down. The distance to the rail seemed much higher than I had remembered. Not that it would matter soon. I check the sign. 10 minutes. The wait is agony. I pace back and forth scuffing my shoes against the yellow raised dots marking the drop into the train rails. The recessed dark metal and stone that would likely be very close, very soon. Maybe if I were blind I could have just pretended I did n't notice these and- Tak. Tak. Someones here? I turn. A pale woman with pitch black hair and heels emerges from the fog. Her chiffon mermaid dress bounces as each stiletto marches closer towards me. The scarlet of her lips stand out against her lovely skin. The look on her face, all-knowing and poised. I've never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. We stand face to face, and I ca n't help but stare into her eyes. She's not saying anything, nothing at all, but it's as if we had been speaking the entire time. The feeling of familiarity and safety draws me closer and closer. I stare and stare, my eyes drawn to every portion of her frame. She stares back with confusion at first, then understanding. After what felt like an eternity she brings her hand to her face, and coyly drags a finger against those scarlet lips. I swallow. A low rumble starts in the distance followed by a whistle. Its the train. I came all this way, all this time but I just could n't turn away. `` You're... Beautiful.'' The woman smiles, and walks towards me, crowding the space around me. My heart races, and I make no move to stop her, close enough that I can feel the cold off of her skin. She makes a spinning motion with her hands. Must mean... Icy hands brush up my back. The feeling of her fingers and palms tracing up my back makes me shudder. The train approaches swiftly, growing larger and closer by the second. For a moment I think she's holding onto me. Clinging onto my torso. `` I have never met someone who looked at me the way you do. You've made an old woman very happy.'' She whispers into my ear. `` Who are you?'' I ask placing a hand on her wrist. `` The one you've been waiting for.'' Before I can respond she withdraws her embrace and suddenly her hands are against my back. With a gentle nudge, I'm pushed off the edge. _____ Welp looks like I missed the first part of the prompt. And here I thought I was already fudging it. Edit: wording and grammar

[ WP ] A single sword . A single word . A single world , turned upside down .

This was it. The only man who could stand in my way had agreed to face me in single combat. Legend said that none could defeat him. Legend was wrong. There were older stories, from before his time. From before he was called a god on Earth. They told of a lost weapon, a sword that could strike down any foe, even one as powerful as he. And I had found it. We stood across from one another in the space between the two armies. This was my chance to show them he was n't a god. This was my chance to be a hero. This was my chance to rule. `` I give you one last chance to turn away, lest the gods forsake you. I am the Immortal Champion, their will incarnate. Do you really think you can stand against me?'' I shifted my grip on the sword. I smiled, and my response was a single word: `` Yes.''

[ WP ] A stupid fucking mug with my name on it .

Thomas was never very good with gifts. He always got something that was not quite what you wanted or not very thought through. At least he knew it and often included a receipt. The first Christmas we had as co-workers and office neighbors, three years ago, Thomas got me a skateboard. I had told him that my son was a skateboarder; he had gotten mixed up and thought I skated instead. At my birthday Thomas once bought me a camera. I have no idea why. It was a good one too. Expensive. I returned it and used the money to get him a hard drive for his PC. He had said he needed one and would n't stop thanking me for a full two weeks. The gifts kept coming and they never got better, but he kept trying. And no matter what I got him he was always grateful. It made me feel bad that I could n't be as grateful in return. I knew that Thomas was always a good friend, and deserved a better friend than me. So this year, after exchanging gifts once more, I sit in my office admiring Thomas's latest attempt at gift giving: a plain mug with my name on it, in plain text. I do n't drink coffee, but I could not be happier with my present. It will remind me of him. Of the friend that he is and the person that I aspire to be like. I smile uncontrollably, staring at the mug. I could not be more grateful to Thomas.

[ WP ] You are Death . For eons you have adhered to the ancient rules , collecting souls only when it their time , so as to not take sides in the war between God and the Devil . Well , the Devil 's been a real dick lately ... so you start choosing who dies & when , attempting tip the balance in God 's favor .

“ Hello Angel, up for a bit of fun? ” I gritted my teeth, leaning on my scythe as I tried to keep the rage from my eyes. It didn ’ t do to antagonize him. “ No… Thanks. ” Lucifer grinned, the serrated edges of his teeth gleaming in the flames. “ Ah come on, baby. You ’ ll always remember your time with the Devil. ” Vile. He was vile, disgusting and depraved. I ’ d seen what he had done with the poor souls I had brought, the games he played, the deals he struck just to watch the hope burn and then die in their eyes. I raised my hood, taking in slow, deep breaths. When I got agitated, good people tended to die. The “ nice guys finish last ” clause had that effect. Another thing to bring up in my weekly meeting with God. The fires of hell burned around me, my latest batch of deliveries shrieking and begging- their cries adding to the cacophony of suffering. I tried not to listen. In their screams they cursed me… Only ever me. Never the sadist responsible for their suffering. I looked up at Lucifer, freezing as I took in the hunger in his eyes. “ That cloak looks good on you. ” He smirked, “ Although I know what would look better. ” His hand snaked out to grab my wrist and I yanked myself away, using enough force to actually crack the bones in his fingers. He snarled, drawing back his injured hand and immediately healing his new wounds. I barely had time to smirk before his power caught me, blasting me backwards and into the sulphur-covered ground, my entire body barking with pain. He took a step forward, ready to strike another blow, but at that point a halo of light surrounded me. It ’ s brightness burned him like a brand- forcing Lucifer to hop backwards, hissing. “ The Big Man isn ’ t going to be around forever, Darling. ” He spat, “ And when he ’ s gone, there ’ ll be no one left to save you. ” I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could, ready to fight. The Devil just chuckled, melting into the shadows of his realm and leaving me behind, shaking. As I flew out of Hell I could feel my heart pounding in synch with each beat of my blue-black wings. As much as I hated to admit it, the Devil was right. I mean, God was amazing- he took the humanitarians, the peacemakers, the freedom fighters, the saints. But what use did those souls have against the army of the Devil- the dictators, the killers, the *lawyers*! When the final battle came, Lucifer would win. And there would be no rock left for me to hide under. Above me, the humans lived out their lives. I felt the pull of a few tonight, not as many as last week. Their medicine was improving. Above me, huge cities grew and teemed with life. Even a few of those could turn the tide. I knew the consequences of my choice before I made it. I knew the burden, the rights and the wrongs. I knew my punishment. The decision was my own. Over the next few years, close to 100 million souls were taken before their time. I wasn ’ t good at this- bringing untimely and unsanctioned ends, and I ’ m sorry to say that they likely suffered more than they had to. A small consolation is that nearly every casualty received immediate salvation- a free ticket to heaven. God ’ s ranks swelled with fighters, kings, tacticians, scientists. The humans had a different name for me then- *Black Death*. When Lucifer and his demons found me, as I knew they would, I was kneeling by the banks of the river Thebes. As they approached me, I could only smile. It was worth it. Every cut, every scar. Sometimes now, when I catch my reflection, I feel sorrow. I miss my wings- those beautiful black spans that could carry me into the heavens and the depths of the Earth. I miss my smile, my dark eyes and thick hair. But then I remember... And the regret fades away. The Angel of Death was weak… But the Reaper bows to no one.

[ WP ] Magic is real . Your natural magic ability is determined by how many people died 24 hours prior to your birth . You , and 2 others were born on the day of the greatest massacre in human history .

When the new girl walked into class, the teacher smiled and gave her the warm greeting she gave everyone. At the end of the standard speech she asked when Jessica's birthday would be. `` It's on the 25th ma'am.'' `` Of this month?'' `` That's next week then! How delightful. That's also Tom's birthday, so we'll have a class party for the both of you! Wo n't that be delightful?'' Jessica nodded. She sat next to me at lunch. `` So you're the kid who has the same birthday right?'' `` Yup. Are you gon na be turning 9?'' `` Yeah! You too?'' `` Yes. It's kind of nice to have another member of the short end club.'' Her brow wrinkled. `` Short end club?'' `` As in short end of the stick. Ya know, because of the day we were born?'' `` I do n't follow you.'' `` You know about how people are born with magic powers right? Most of em are really weak though.'' `` Yeah, unless they're born the day after a massive upheaval or something. So?'' `` Well, you know what happened the day we were born right?'' `` Uh uh, what?'' `` You never heard about the Mid East Massacre? The ISIS attack on Israel that turned the whole world against them?'' She scrunched up her face. `` I think I saw something about it on a documentary from the Discovery Channel or The New History Channel. It was like a big war that started like... a long time ago.'' `` 15 years. But the big turning point was about 9 years ago like I said. They wiped out almost an entire country in one day. The very same day you and me were born.'' `` So how's that make us...'' her brow wrinkled again. `` Wait... you're sayin' if we'd been born a day later...'' `` We'd be among the most powerful Wizards and Witches the world has ever seen. We'd be at that government school in Westchester New York, or maybe even sent across the ocean as exchange to that one in Scotland that's always in the news. We'd be powerful and rich and famous someday. Instead, we got, y'know, the short end of the stick.'' `` Well, that's true I guess. But we could have ended up in a lot of places. Like the one in Los Angeles, or Miami, or Madrid. At the very least we'd probably never have met and we would n't be talking right now.'' She smiled at him. Tom's heart fluttered for a moment and he smiled too.

[ WP ] You wake up in a strange room , only to find alternate universe versions of you there , each different in their own way ( gender , race , background etc ) . You have no idea what brought you here .

I had about 5 seconds to get used to lying on my back and frankly I was comfortable there until the 6th second rolled around and someone kicked me in the gut. You know what that feels like? A good solid kick in the gut that wakes you right up and rearranges your priorities in a hurry starting with `` make that not happen again, please''. So I was pretty pissed when I opened my eyes, breath gathered ready to swear the first person I saw into oblivion. That it was me made me pause halfway through `` Sonovvua-'' It was me. I'd kicked me. Or at least me with breasts, muscles and glasses, none of which I remembered having. I put my face in my hands, rubbed my eyes with my palms and opened them again to see, yup. Lady Me. Me'Lady in fact. There could be no question. `` Uh'' I said like the eloquent conversationalist I am. And she responded with, in my voice but falsetto, `` Shut up. I know you have questions. Frankly we all do. But if you're anything like the others you'll wait like we've been waiting too.'' This did n't help. So instead I edged myself onto my elbows and looked around. Me and Me'lady were in a bright white walled room with one transparent wall that looked onto a corridor with other such rooms. She'd planted herself ( myself? ) against the opposite wall and it took me a few more seconds before my head was clear enough for words. When I did, it was, `` Hello'' because you've got to start with hello. Or not, because she did n't reciprocate. So instead I asked, `` So....there's a lot of those eh?'' `` Those? ``, she raised an eyebrow and it looked just like I'd always thought I looked like when I did that. `` The rooms with....us... in them'' `` Yup. Listen do you remember anything?'' I could n't. And I had a feeling she was expecting that to be the answer. So instead I asked her, `` Does any of us? Also, why did you kick me? If you broke a kidney and I need a replacement I know I'm taking one of yours.'' `` Pipe down smartass. And no, none of us remember. There's a girl 3 rooms down who says he's been here for an hour. No one across from him knows morse so we do n't know how many of... us there are. And I kicked you because the alternative was listening to you snore and these rooms are soundproof. You know that by the way? You snore?'' That voice, it was mine but different. Like if I'd pinched my throat and done an impression of a lady. Like that, but... natural. Real. And lovely. Apparently I loved hearing the sound of my own voice. Suffice to say that presented more questions than it answered and I'd only just thought of the first I was going to ask when a voice boomed through the room and we both looked up at the perforated surface of a white painted speaker on the wall. `` ATTENTIO-! Oh, sorry about that, is it low? I lowered the volume, it should be okay now. Anyways. Hi! I am Cid. Yes, yes I know, we're ALL Cid, it's very droll but I'm Cid the original. Cid in fact, of this universe. Which none of you in fact are. of this universe that is. I'm really really sorry about that but uh, apparently, there are side effects that we were n't really ready for, and after the first dozen of....us, uh, we, just kept coming and coming. We did n't even have a place to store and categorize all of you until a few hours ago. Sorry about the rooms by the way, it was all we had until we could sort this whole mess out. Hm. Speaking of which, I guess I should tell you all, me? Us. I should tell all of us that this is, technically, and I can not stress this enough, ACCIDENTALLY, my fault. Ish. Sort of. Look I'm just saying no one could have seen this. Like no one could have predicted this would happen. We just turned it on for a few minutes and then you, I, we started just streaming through like it was a house party. And then we could n't turn it off and on again because it would n't turn off and we do n't know why it's still on except we ca n't turn it off. You see, one of us, across multiple dimensions, mine in fact, the one you're all... we're all in now was a scientist at CERN. Me in fact. Working on the ol' LHC. That's the the Large Hadron Collider. It uh, broke the dimensional barrier. But I'm sure I can fix it. We've called Brian Cox already and he said to turn it off and on again like we have n't already tried that, the sellout. Just wait and do n't do anything rash or....erotic which I notice some of you..me..us... ew. Just ew. Just keep your pants on guys. And gals I guess. I guess I'm only single in THIS dimension then. Brilliant.'' There was the brief thud of a mic being put on a table and a distant, `` Shit, I turned the speaker off, is still playing?'' And then there was the whine of a fading tannoy system.

[ WP ] Every starfaring species has discovered a different form of FTL travel . Kantian gates , Salec skip drives , Maltiun wave-riders , Delfanit pulse tubes ... Humanity 's solution was regarded as `` Unorthodox '' , `` Unsafe '' , and `` Damn Stupid '' by the rest of the galaxy .

“ Shit, there goes another one. ” General Turr mumbled to, Taek, his first officer, “ They ’ re getting a lot more accurate, they used to miss by a few thousand kilometres. ” Turning the ship towards the newly arrived HomoSapien space liner, the Exerprise H56, the Kantian war ship set about tracking the liner and getting all of its clearances and passes checked. “ Yeah, but they are still missing the safe zones. If it weren ’ t for the jelly shields of the Salec ’ s their FTL travel would ’ ve been banned. ” The liner is easily one of the smallest ships currently docked at the way spacion, the HomoSapiens had only discovered their FTL travel 20 years ago. The Kantian ’ s, Salec ’ s, Maltuin ’ s and Delfanit ’ s were shocked, never thinking that a species with only two arms could create such technology. “ It ’ s Unorthodox, Unsafe and Damn Stupid! It UUDS! ” The council meetings had been plagued with these words for ages. Taek, going through each clearance code with a meticulousness that only he could, motions to the debris trail left behind the liners “ If we shared our technology with them, they could travel through the gates. ” “ It would also decrease the bloody clean-up required each time. ” “ You know we can ’ t, the treaty stands and the human ships aren ’ t dense enough to handle the radiation. ” The general replies, not mentioning that the few ships that have tried it crashed into each other. “ How, exactly do they even travel this far anyway? It would seem that their ships and bodies wouldn ’ t be able to handle the forces. ” Taek asks for the millionth time. “ Well, they have this theory of relativity, which says the faster you travel the more mass you have. It overcomplicated all of their scientific endeavours. ” The general begins, earning a collective moan from everyone awake in the warships control room. “ So when they started travelling at close to light speed they just assumed that they couldn ’ t travel as fast or faster. They built engines that can get to 80 % the speed of light, which is something our ships do with impulse engines. ” “ That only took them to the edge of their own solar system, something admirable but it still confined them to their own corner. The Salec wave riders were considering helping them to travel faster, however, about 21 years ago when they sent a probe ship, they found rings the size of moons being placed on the edges of their solar system. ” He pauses to ensure that Taek is still listening, which of course he is. “ Curious the Salec ’ s stood back and watched. The humans had somehow discovered how to warp space but only between two set places. Their warp drives also temporarily increased their speed to 3 FTL, which they still haven ’ t entirely realised. ” This next bit is where the council is still struggling to accept the HomoSapiens as a race, the council usually worked well together on making decisions, but dangerous travel that still worked was a grey area. Every other race were too cautious to attempt something unkown. “ Well, to start traversing through space, the humans would travel from their home planet at the maximum speed they can travel. Aiming straight for the warp gates, at first, but eventually at different angles. This caused them to easily travel to new solar systems. It also made it difficult for them to actually stop. ” “ Which is why their first three ships flew straight into, in order or severity, the council war fleet, the council ’ s moon of operations and the dwarf star of the Antraci system. Total count of death combined was well over 100-million. ” “ Of course after catching the attention of the council and several other alien races the HomoSapiens eventually made contact with us and we were able to stop their exploration ships before more damage could be caused. The thing that surprised most races was that after three failed attempts the humans were still attempting FTL travel. ” “ It wasn ’ t until first contact that the Salec ’ s realised that humans were still using Radio waves to communicate across vast distances. But, that advancement in their tech is a whole different story and involves several strange messages that either offended everyone or caused peace treaties to be made with the Andromeda Galaxy. ” - Recorded on the bridge of the JJK98 Farbelus Warship, 200 0000 km long, conversation between General of Knowledge Turr and his First Officer of memory Taek. Annotations and missing information filled in my Salec History Keeper Urder V, the second.

[ WP ] A dyslexic Devil-worshiper sells his soul to Santa .

You would n't think that a jolly fat man who brings presents to little boys and girls would have so many enemies but he does. There are a ton of politics that go into being Santa, and for the past 10 years I've been his `` repair man''. I helping fix any problems that may arise. Labor disputes between elves, reindeer suppliers wanting to back out. Originally it was easy for the big man to deliver joy to all the little boys and girls of the earth but that was back when A piece of fruit and a wooden car would put a smile on their face. Then along came things like Hasbro, Lego, Barbie then those were all that kids wanted. These things aint cheap. So Santa had to start doing the one thing he could think of to make ends meet, drug trafficking. I mean no one could beat `` around the world in one night''. I guess he got lucky with me. You see I was never the smartest guy. I dropped out of high school and spent the next six years trying to make ends meet however I could. One night I got desperate. I was going to sell my soul to the devil in order to get what I wanted. I had everything set up, candles, pigs blood, the whole nine yards. Except one small thing, I wrote Santa instead of Satan, I mean looked right to me but must have been my dyslexia. And so here I am, the assassin for a jolly fat man.

[ MP ] The Black Parade

When I was a young boy, my father and I went into the city on a cold winter day. He told me never to go to the city alone, but that it was important I see what happened there. As we entered through a large, ornate blackend iron gate, I began to ask how that could happen to metal but hushed me and told me not to speak until he spoke to me. I nodded meakly and we continued into the city. There were scores of people lining the streets, but no one made a sound. The silence in a city so large was eerie at best. Even as a child I knew something was wrong. Once again I began to ask my father our purpose but he shushed me once more. Then I heard it. From what seemed like a great distance, music began to play. But not any kind of music I had heard before. It grew in volume exponentially fast, covering what seemed like miles in mere moments. Then they turned onto the street we were standing to the side of. What I saw would later be explained to me as the black parade. It was led by a marching band, but something was wrong with their instruments. Every chord and note seemd sour somehow. Behind them were scores of soldiers, all armed to the teeth and dressed in black combat gear. Once they had passed my father and I swiftly left the city. Once we got home, he told me about the black parade and why it existed. There were things in this world which needed to be contained and controlled. He said that because I was his first born son, that one day when I was older I would need to become a savior, someone who could bring salvation to those who were broken and dammed. That I would join the Black Parade. Today is day 421 of my march, and the music plays on.

[ WP ] A magic coin gives the owner just enough money to get by , until they can finally support themselves , then they must give it to another person in need .

Grills. He's got one gold tooth, yet the motherfucker calls himself Grills. `` Keeping the party going?'' `` Nah, nah, nah. Just got up. You know. Going out tomorrow. Just being prepared.'' I lied, bouncing from foot to foot. I felt the 6 baggies hit my palm as he slapped me five. `` You gon na be real...'' My back was already to him as I scurried down the sidewalk. `` Save me the fucking sales pitch'' I think to myself, knowing I'll be calling him again in an hour... sweating, shaking, hating myself. The fuck is wrong with me? Like I ai n't ever seen a movie before. Old Chinese dude in a dusty shop. Yeah, this shit always ends well... riiiiiight. Makes perfect sense too. Old Chinese dude. Chinese antiques. Chinese spices. Chinese art. Oh, and Merlin's Coin. Merfuckinlin's Coin he tells me. $ 308.80 a day until I'm financially secure. $ 308.80 a day until I burn my lips off on this fucking crack stem is more like it. Oh, I had high hopes. High hopes I did. Gon na get out of debt. Gon na get caught up on my rent. Gon na make something of myself. Gon na smoke that $ 308.80 right the fuck up. That's what I'm gon na do. That's what I did. That's what I've been doing for the past 8 months. The plywood was hardly back in place before I was pulling out my piece and loading it up with a fresh whack. Pop, pop, sizzle, and I'm out. Tingly. Warm. Fuck that Chinese motherfucker and his fucking King Arthur coin of the fucking round table bullshit. The lighter flares up, I inhale, hold it. `` $ 308.80 a day to turn my life around. Ai n't that some shit?''

[ IP ] The Good Die Young

The village was always peaceful at night. The sun setting in the ash-gray sky mixed with the twinkle of the light-drones floating by set a happy mood that contrasted with the way we were all feeling. Many of us would leave this very night. Not many of us would come back. I held my daughter's hand for what might be the last time ever, the twin red ribbons on my head snapping lightly in the breeze. The rest of the men were gathered in the center of the town, waiting for instructions to come in on the once-new projector mounted on the town hall. The Alliance would be sending missives tonight, ordering the troops out across the frontier once again. This war was breaking apart families once again. I never thought it would be me dying out there until I saw the blood red envelope waiting for me outside my door a few months ago. Red is the color of the elite troops in the Alliance's so-called Glorious Army. Many say they used to have white ribbons, but they were covered with so much blood that they decided to keep that color. With the rifle issued to me heavy on my back, I squatted and picked up my daughter. Her name was Dawn, and she was the reason I was going with the elite guard. I was fighting for her freedom, my wife's freedom, the village's freedom. The resources being fought over mattered little to me. I kissed Dawn on the forehead, then took her over to her mother. I put her gently into my wife's arms, and then looked at my wife. There were tears in both of our eyes. Before turning away, I stroked my daughter's ribbons and hair one last time, and then turned away from them. The screen had come to life, and a grizzled general was issuing orders to the troops across the nation. There was a saying among the elite guard. Those who fight for their country would die for it, and those that fought for themselves might survive. It was a dishonest, horrible practice, but the self-preservation that most of the soldiers had in mind was the only way that they could survive. I had sworn to never be like those men. I would fight and die for my country, my town, my family. My life might be taken, but for their sake, I will freely give it up. I had sworn to be a good man, but at that moment, I remembered what the other men had said to me in training. The good die young.

[ WP ] You dig up a time capsule you buried years ago . Instead of memorabilia , you find a modern phone . It rings .

I stare at the phone skeptically as it continues to ring. After the third ring, I answer. Hello? who is this? `` Hello, Mr. Ross. It's good to hear you found it, and right on time, it seems''. What? How do you know me? When did you put this phone here? *looks around*....Where are you? `` Why do you ask? Are you concerned that I might be hidden somewhere nearby? I can assure you, I'm not. But if you're really that worried I'll give you some time to search the area and collect your thoughts. I'll call you back in exactly fifteen minutes''............He hung up.... No number in the caller ID either... I look around again. I'm in a small clearing, in a wooded area, about two miles from the road, on private property. At an old campsite I used to use when I was a kid. There's no trace of anyone. It's mid autumn, so the ground is strewn with fallen leaves. The plot where my time capsule was supposed to be appeared untouched before I started digging. Mostly covered with leaves, a little grass. How did he know when to call? I spend about ten minutes exploring the area in search of a camera. First I look for any incoming wires that I might've missed on my way in. nothing. maybe it's wireless and there's a transmitter nearby? That might explain why the phone has signal here. Or maybe a motion sensor in the phone triggered the call. Who would do something like this? Is it a prank? I did n't tell anyone I was coming. Hell, until this morning I did n't Know I was coming here. So how would anyone else? *riiing* *riiing*. Hello? `` Time's up Mr Ross. Did you find anything''. Not a thing. What do you want? `` My my, impatient are n't you? Perhaps we should get to know one another first.'' Sure thing, just tell me where you are and we'll have a nice long chat. `` Very well. Meet me at your favorite caffe. You know the one''. *Click*. What caffe? I have n't been to a caffe in.... how could he even know that? I've never told anyone. ( I've never really written anything before, so if this sucks, I'm genuinely sorry. I know the story seems vague so far but I have some interesting plot points in mind... I just do n't know how to add them without extending the story... and being that I'm not a writer at all..... this is hard....But if anyone happens to like it I can keep going )

[ WP ] You have a near-death experience that reveals you have a Guardian Angel protecting you ... And you have the hots for her . You continue putting your life in danger in order to spend more time with her .

Samson stood up out of his car and stretched out as he shut the door behind him. It was n't a long drive to get there, but with the sun's rays warming him in the brisk morning, he could n't help but stretch and bask in it a little. This was the kind of morning Wanda would go out in a swimsuit and get some basking in herself if she were awake at this hour. Samson figured maybe if he hurried he could get back in time before she woke up, maybe suggest it was a good day for basking, 14 years of marriage and he was still excited to just glimpse her in a bathing suit. If the thoughts of seeing his wife did n't hurry Samson up to the front doors of the building, the putrid odor from the cigarettes the guards outside the doors were holding sure did. Samson, who was usually a very open minded man about people vices, glowered at the guards who for the most part ignored him as they seemed to be inhaling as much as they could through their sickly white straws. When he got through the doors though, he had a bit more empathy for the guards, he surely would have turned to something unpleasant to help him deal with this place. It was n't a gross place, or even disorganized, in fact it was quite the opposite. Such a clean sterile, environment should n't have such a negative aura, but this place did. A man coughed to Samson's left, obviously to get his attention. “ Mr. Baker, the man inquired? ” Samson, took off his his beanie and turned to face the shorter and much plumper man before him. “ No sir, Samson, sir. I'm covering for Neville today. ” “ I do n't blame the man for missing an appointment with Jack, it's all routine anyway, nothing ever changes, come come though, no need to let this place creep in on you longer than it needs to. ” The man turned surprisingly fast for his plumpness and led him down into a long hallway lined by doors, the whole time talking to him and fiddling with the keys. “ I do n't suppose Neville has told you anything about this mans story has he, I suppose it will be good to get a fresh perspective ”, he said not waiting for an answer. “ Here we are Mr. Samson, see if you can get him to give up his angel. ” The plump man opened the door and gave Samson a grin and a wink as he gestured him in. Samson, determined not to be unnerved, stepped through the door calmly and professionally, barely flinching as the door closed and locked behind him. The place Samson found himself in was even more at odds with it's looks and its feel than the entrance was. It was homely, almost welcoming, but the feeling of the room carried a distinctive haze. In fact it reminded him of the one time he had tried refer, calm and relaxed but out of it. A man sat up on his bed and beamed a huge smile at Samson, who was taken aback by the warmness of the man who must be Jack. “ Come on in sir, I've been expecting you, ca n't say I'd have thought you would have come so soon, but I can not complain about such haste, as it can only be to my benefit. You may have a seat right here and I shall sit across from you ”, Jack spat out hurriedly as he gathered chairs and sat them across from each other. “ Thank you Jack, I did not think you'd be expecting me, how did you know I would be here today? ” Samson sat down as uneasily as his question came out. Jack was not at all what he expected, but for a man who was touched by an angel, his cheeriness did make sense. “ Well, you can come sooner, or you can come later, but you will come, so I will be expecting you to come, it all makes sense. ” Samson was not quite sure as to the logic behind that, but he did n't feel the need to press Jack on it. “ If you do n't mind, I am going to begin right away. ” The plump man was right, Samson did not need to be here any longer than he had to. He pulled up his briefcase and reviewed some files inside, after getting a good read on what was written he pulled out his badge and handed it to Jack. “ This is to assure you I am here on good intentions, the law protects you, you do n't have to give up anything you do n't want to, and you will be safe here with me. ” Jack instantly pushed the badge back into Samson's hand after Samson pulled it out. “ I have faith sir, I do n't need proof, I know why you are here. ” “ Let's make this fast then, where did you first see this guardian angel? ” Samson took out a pencil and paper for his own notes, and a tape recorder to get the transcript of the conversation and listened intently as Jack started to speak. “ No, no, no, MY guardian angel, Ileyana, she is mine, you should know this. ” Jack looked confused when he was telling this to Samson, but quickly got lost in his story again. “ But I first met her when she saved my life, and I instantly knew exactly what she was, and that she was the one for me. ” Jack poured himself something clear from a teapot that Samson swore looked exactly like water, and continued to speak to Samson. “ She saved me from more than just death that day, she saved me from myself, I was n't always a good man, that is how I got put in harms way. I was shot you see, right here. ” Jack lifted his shirt to show a bullet scar surrounded by a multitude of other scars. Samson made sure to write down the description as fast as he could before he lowered his shirt. “ I remember laying on the ground, thinking to myself, should n't this hurt, I mean, cheese and rice, I just got shot in the chest, I should be crying in pain, but I was n't. I just kind of lied there all tired, did n't really know what to do, and then she came down. That's why there was no pain, she took it all away, even before I saw here, but if I had an ounce of pain in me, it would have evaporated at the site of her beauty. She gracefully... so very... very gracefully, came down from the sky above me, and gently put a hand on my neck, firmly placing head to look into the shining rays of heaven coming from her hands. Then she raised me up and closed her wings around me, and she was so soft, it was like laying on a bed, and I could feel her ethereal tendrils, poking into my veins, giving me warmth, I thought I was off to heaven, but no, she was saving me, a real guardian angel. ” Samson raised up a hand to stop Jack from speaking so he could ask his own questions. “ But you had a personal relationship with Ileyana? ” “ Before this, nothing, I guess my life had never needed saving bad enough for her to come down, had I known though, I would have put myself in danger much sooner and much more often, which is actually how we developed our romantic ties. ” Jack beamed with pride as he related several ways over the subsequent months following his first meeting with her that he put himself in danger to meet her again and again. “ She was always telling me how she did n't want to see me here again, telling me I needed to be careful and not hurt myself. Eventually I suggested to her that we become involved so I do n't have to hurt myself, but she said it was against the rules, she was n't allowed, but I eventually wore her down. ” After saying that Jack looked up at Samson with remorse painted over his face and dropped down off his chair. He folded his hands together and dropped to his knees, hands falling in Samson's lap. “ That's not why you're here is it?! She ca n't get in trouble for fraternizing with a mortal, it was my fault, see. I made her, I put myself in danger so much she had to, she was just being a a good guardian angel, she is n't losing her wings is she? Not because of me?! ” It was all Samson could do to stay on the chair with this man putting his weight into him, begging on his lap. His briefcase slid to the ground as he grabbed Jack's hand and led him back to his seat. “ No, Ileyana is n't in trouble, this is just a conversation between you and me Jack. Would you mind telling me more about your relationship though, she sounds like quiet the catch. ” Instantly Jack was back in his seat and resuming his story. “ Yes of course, where were we? We were together romantically at last, that's where, a happy time, almost as happy as now. But it was n't all happy. Since she no longer had to save me she had to save other people, and that just would n't do. So I came up with an idea. If I went to heaven, we could be together no problem, and she would n't have to be a guardian angel any more, we could just be regular angels. So I took her up to the highest building I could find. I needed to be as close to heaven as I could be so I would n't have to wait as long to get in. And I remember telling her'We're gon na be together forever Ileyana', I told her,'you do n't have to, but if you would n't mind, I'd like this to not hurt me.' Then I fell, and I remember some pain, but then I felt her warm, bed like body pressing up against me, and her wings closing around me, and I knew I was on my way. Then I just remember being here, just waiting for you so you can let me in. ” As confusing as the story was Samson could at least follow it before, but now he was utterly lost. “ Where am I letting you into Jack? ” “ Why into heaven of course, so I can go see Ileyana ” “ Jack, where do you think we are right now? ” Jack beamed proudly as he prepared himself to explain to Samson their whereabouts “ Why sir, we are right outside the pearly gates waiting for my induction to heaven sir! ” ( continued in comments )

[ WP ] Grandpa always said to stay out of the basement because of `` the bones . ''

Growing up in the city with two brothers, I valued being alone from a very young age. I often used to ( and sometimes still do ) dream of being the only child. Not because I wouldn ’ t have to share or because Mom would spoil me a little more. I just wanted to be alone. I think that ’ s why the week with Grandpa each summer meant so much to me. It wasn ’ t that I didn ’ t or don ’ t love my family, it ’ s that I wanted to know what it was to be me. Grandpa understood being alone. I hadn ’ t known my Grandma. Well at least I didn ’ t remember. There some pictures of her and I – me in a diaper and her holding a cocktail - but they could have been any other baby and I wouldn ’ t have know any better. Grandpa never talked about her and I ’ m not sure that he really missed her. By all accounts they had been very much in love, but Grandpa was a pragmatist and never seemed to dwell on things. Mostly during that week each summer, Grandpa would leave me alone. I ’ d explore the channel behind his house or dig through the barn looking for forgotten treasure. When I was a little older, I ’ d read a GooseBump or spend the whole day watching TV. Grandpa didn ’ t much care what I did. Grandpa – like all adults in my mind – was concerned about things that were neither important nor interesting. He did a lot of rummaging. Seemed to need to go on boring shopping trips all the time. Spent a lot of time with the newspaper. I never gave any of these things any thought. Occasionally I would have to do some chore. Painting a railing, cleaning an attic or some other project that needed to be done, but really didn ’ t need to be done. These generally lasted less than a day and were more for the sake of him being able to tell my mom how he had whipped me in to shape more than anything else. We were in the same space, but weren ’ t sharing the same time. The summer I turned 14 was the first summer I remember not wanting to go to Grandpa's. I had been allowed some small freedoms at home and the allure of being alone with my Grandpa for a week evaporated quickly. I didn ’ t need this anymore now that I finally had my own room and was allowed to stay out till 7. Plus my girlfriend who I was madly in love with was definitely going to dump me if I didn ’ t see her for a week. On top of all that it rained all week. I did what any 14 year old stuck in a house for a week effectively without an adult would do. Lots of tv. Lots of computer games. Lots of texting. Lots of masturbating. Grandpa didn ’ t bother me outside of breakfast and dinner. Even then we barely spoke. He asked me about school and girls, but I gave him the same canned responses I gave to every adult. I don ’ t think I asked him anything. The week passed uneventfully as it always had. On Thursday, Grandpa let me know that the chore for this week would be organizing the basement while he went to whatever the VA was. “ Now when you ’ re down there make sure to sweep and clean up as much crap as you can, but don ’ t go lookin where you don ’ t need to ” Like all adults Grandpa was so easy to ridicule. “ How will I know what I do or do not need? ”, I replied in a voice that only 14 year old boys who think they are smarter than god can muster. He stared at me for a couple of seconds before sternly saying, “ Don ’ t open the box that say ‘ bones ’ on it. ” “ Oh, Okay Grandpa. ” How old did he think I was? Like he would really be storing bones in the basement. We didn ’ t say anything else. He finished and left. I watched some TV and texted my girlfriend about watching out for bones in the basement. Eventually I sauntered downstairs. The basement was surprisingly empty. A little dust, but really there wasn ’ t much to do. As I swept, I absentmindedly scanned the boxes in front of me smiling thinking about the box of bones and my Grandpa the serial killer. At some point I realized that I had stopped sweeping and found myself staring at a cardboard box. Neatly written on the side “ Bones – Stay Out. ” I braced myself. What the actual hell man? I picked up the box carefully. It didn ’ t rattle. It didn ’ t smell like the dead rats in the garage. It was heavy. Whatever was inside shifted slightly. The box looked and felt like a moving box. A normal cardboard box. That didn ’ t stop me from shaking. I slowly pulled back the lid and looked inside. No bones. I felt cheated, but relieved. Still what was this box? Photographs. Letters. Old office papers. The letters were addressed to and signed ‘ Bones ’. I recognized some of the names who wrote the letters from a family reunion, but a lot were from someone I didn ’ t know. Who was Penny? She seemed to like Bones. The papers and pictures were all faded, but showed men who looked like GI Joes smoking cigarettes and smiling in the Jungle. The next day at breakfast I asked my Grandpa who Bones was. I never really looked at adults the same way again after that week. I don ’ t think that was the moment I grew up, but as I become more boring and notice children presenting me with the same bland answers I used to give adults I can ’ t help but think of my own box in the basement.

[ WP ] Every time you teleport , your body is destroyed and instantly recreated at the destination . Heaven and Hell are struggling to cope with the billions of duplicated souls created every year , so a bipartisan emergency meeting has been called to sort out the problem .

`` Jerry... Jerry!'' Jerry jerked his head up, looking left then right at the millions of angels staring back at him. The podium was empty! Coming to his senses, he felt the soft hum of a trillion tappings of tiny, bored fingertips that reverberated across the Infinity Boardroom to the end of the universe and back. `` Jerry,'' God sighed patiently, `` Please. If you may. It is your turn.'' `` Y-yes,'' he stammered, echoing his uncertainty across The Loudspeaker. Now biting his tongue, he galloped up to the podium, still mid-blush. Placing his palm on The Dial, screens appeared down as far as the eye can Holy See. Clearing his throat, finally, he began: `` Your Majesty. Winged souls. Betty...'' — he could just make out Betty mouthing'Oh, stop it!' in the distance — `` My team and I have read through His Holy Source code... with His Divine Permission'' — God nodded in approval here — `` and it appears we had overlooked some of our Loop functions.'' Knowing nods across the Universe sent ripples through the ether, followed by a quite beautiful and harmonious'Ohhhhh' beginning to sound. `` Humans can in theory Loop in as many souls as they wish. Which is exactly what they are doing. Which is why a good number of you are here...'' Jerry rotated his hand on The Dial. `` If you take a look at the screeeennns....'' — he over-emphasized the last word — `` you'll see our Soul quota for this era, which has been absolutely eclipsed by Humans' ingenuity recently. For the older souls here, the red line on the bottom indicates how many Souls we should be producing... quite flat, mostly... and the really fat blue line on top is how many are actually being produced. You see that up-tick near the end? `` I am afraid that with their near-daily and quite honestly, exponential, advances in Artificial Intelligence, engineering, physics... we are spelling the end of the Universe as we know it. It's only a matter of time before **they** tap into the Source code itself... `` So my team and I are going to turn off Time Production – yes, literally stop Time – until we figure this out. Our soul output will stall for a few Biblical Days... It's the best we can do.'' God clenched His Dial, projecting an empty image with a floating beard onto the Infinity Boardroom's many screens. `` Hold on one moment, Jerry. I'd like to get Satan's input on this. This relates to his department.'' There was a long silence that felt like an eternity. Sure enough, an eternity later, Satan's face was occupying the top right corner of the screens. `` Hey!'' Satan said. `` Hey,'' God said. `` Jerry is just with me right now. Jerry?'' `` Yeah, I'm here. Satan, do you hear me?'' `` Perfectly,'' Satan said. `` Great,'' Jerry continued, `` As I was saying, we ca n't have one soul going to Hell with another to Heaven. It's defeating the whole purpose of our merit-based system.'' `` Or demerit-based system,'' Satan hissed. `` As it were.'' God interjected: `` Satan, do you have enough souls to operate the machinery Down There for a few Biblical Days? We need to have a look at the Source code, so we'll have to stop Time herself, but we do n't want to muck you up.'' `` How many Biblical Days are we talking about?'' Satan asked. `` About five.'' After another eternity, Satan gasped: `` Five?'' `` Yeah. Five.'' `` Alright. I can make this work. Jerry, keep me updated.'' And his image flickered off the screen.

[ WP ] Tell a story in which eye contact is crucial .

With God as my witness, I would not crack. My opponent stared me down, rivaling the ferocity with which I glared into him. The room would have been silent but for the clock, whose ticks and tocks kept the rhythm of our rivalry. The world was dead to us now; had fire broken out we would have each surely perished before accepting our loss to the other. This was not to say it was easy to maintain. In his eyes I could see a madness stretched out across infinity. Those dark, unblinking corneas spun a tale of deception. If my guard went down for even a moment, all would be lost. `` You ca n't win'' he said, his smug fuckin grin making me clench my fist in rage. `` You just watch me'' I retorted, the strain of our contest sapping the wit from my tongue. As confident as I must have sounded, the reality was much more grim. I could not say which direction our battle of wills was tilting, but barring equal exhaustion on his part I had little chance of victory. There was a fire in my eyes, a fire which I knew I could only put out with a concession of defeat. No. Not now. I had come too far, sacrificed too much to be the loser. Just a little longer now. He could n't hold out forev- He blinked. He totally blinked. `` Aw yeah, MOTHERFUCKER! You're paying for pizza!''

[ WP ] Write about a day in your life as if it were a videogame . Be sure to include levels , bosses , rewards , and consequences .

After the set time for my waking up which I set last night at 7:00am passed, I opened my eyes to me standing up. I, however, thought nothing of it as it happens everyday. What I thought about however, is that my food meter is nearly depleted. And nobody likes it when their food meter is almost depleted. So I walked, or more accurately, slid my feet down the stairs then walked straight towards the `` Winter-Chest''. I grabbed the first food that I found that needed the least cooking skill to cook, hotdogs and some bread, threw the hotdogs into the micro-fire oven, then ate them, resulting in a nearly full food meter. But due to the sound the micro-fire emits, a certain level 40 upstairs woke up then went crashing down the stairs and started blabbering about matters that I shall not list. `` Yeah, Yeah. Okay I get it mom, geez.'' Is the magical incantations needed to make her stop. `` Whatever, just get yourself ready for school, bus is almost arriving.'' Powerless against her, I just did what I was preparing to do in the first place. I then did the neccesities for venturing outside, then waited for the bus at the bus stop. [ Currently travelling. Destination: Some High School ] Basically, I do n't like doing this quest line. But it's necessary to prepare me for the events that will soon happen happen after level 18, apparently. Like getting your preferred job class or whatever since the more beneficial ( beneficial as in lots of gold income ) jobs require high number of INT and WIS, which you need for those classes. `` Oh, it's almost class time, see ya dude!'' One of my party members told me then made his way to wherever his class is. 'Might as well' is what I told myself as I made sure my books, pencils, and whatnots are inside my inventory. So, as I said, this questline is quite boring. Other people will argue, and I see where they might come from. `` But there's lots of sidequests to do!'' is one of the most spoken arguments about this. But being the lazy player I am, I just do n't want to, I mean, it's really a hassle. For example, the romance questlines are quite complicated and the mean success rate among male players is somewhere around 50 %. Not to mention, you might get the `` Ex'' encounter, or if you manage to get far into the quest line, you might have to face the `` Parents'' final boss. That quest line's quite a hassle. Although I can see why people would do that. `` See ya tommorow, man.'' I said to my fellow clan member as the end-of-the-day bell rings. `` Yeah, you too bro.'' On the other hand, clans, a little version of guilds, I find to be quite interesting. And in fact, joined one. In particular, I joined the robotics club, due to a simple reason: you're gon na need that to unlock the robotics skill tree, and in turn, little robot minions. It's quite simple. [ Daily quest: Go to School ] [ Status: Completed ] [ Classes Completed: +4 INT, +2 WIS, +1 STR, +1 DEX, +1 AGI, +100exp ] [ Clan Task Completed: +1 INT, +1 WIS, +1 CHA, +50exp to Robotics skill tree. ] [ Currently travelling. Destination: Home ] So after school, I essentially turn into a slime, and by that I mean I will do absolutely nothing until night time. And by night time, just before opening the sleep interface, I like to open up my quest journal to see what I quests and sidequests I still need to finish. [ Main Quest: Finish High School ] [ Side Quest: Unlock Robotic skill tree ] [ Side Quest: Improve Artistry Skill ] `` Ugh... lot's and lot's of side quests...'' I mumbled to myself as I panned my eyes down the list. Until one thing caught my eye. [ Side Quest: Find a Girlfriend. ] I sighed to myself, then smiled. `` Well, we're gon na have to work on that one'' As I pressed the okay button in the sleep interface. P.S. Still somewhat new to writing, so pardon my amateur ways.

[ WP ] A serial killer who kills hitchhikers picks up a serial killer who kills the people who pick him up .

I'm quite late to this, not sure if it will even get read but here goes... It was 7:15 on a lousy evening in Jindabyne as Sean drove along the dark, icy road. This winter had been particularly cruel to Sean; fewer people had been staying at his lodge which forced him to cut the cleaning staff. Sean had been struggling to run the lodge and clean it. He felt he deserved some fun, something to fill him with such satisfaction and happiness. Driving along the road, he smiled. “ Where are you? ” he muttered. As he drove around a bend, there she was. She was young, probably around 21. Her blonde hair blew to one side in the wind. She was clinging on to her backpack and stood stiff like a post with one arm out. “ There you are. ” Sean said blissfully. There she was. Sean pulled up the fixed blade in his boot, just touching it made his heart race. He pulled to the side of the road and opened the door. “ Do ya need a lift, love? ” He yelled over the wind. She stared at him, Sean worried he had already scared her, she ’ s so small and helpless he thought. “ I can call you a taxi but you might be waiting a while. ” With that she gathered her things and got in the front seat. They sat in silence for a while, Sean was trying to be patient, he didn ’ t want to seem too eager but he had been longing for this for quite some time. It had been almost 8 months since his last kill and 8 months wasn ’ t enough to suffice. “ You know where you ’ d like to go? ” He pushed. She turned to him and he almost groaned when he saw her sad, grey eyes. “ I ’ m hungry. ” She stated. So am I Sean thought. “ Alright, well I can take you into town? Get you a nice hearty meal, what do ya say? ” Sean said in fatherly voice. The girl nodded. For the first few minutes Sean and the girl said nothing. Sean was excited, too excited. He could smell her lavender shampoo and it was driving him crazy. He kept thinking of what her name might be, how when the moment that she told him her name, he would never forget it. She was his now, no one else ’ s. “ How long will it take to get there? ” the girl asked, interrupting Sean ’ s train of thought. “ About 35 minutes give or take ” Sean said, smiling. Make her feel safe he thought I want her to feel safe. A few more minutes passed until Sean could take no more silence. Who are you, where are you from, why are you here? He thought. He had to know. “ I ’ m Sean by the way… ” He said, indicating a response. The girl nodded politely and looked outside the window. “ And your name is? ” He pushed on. “ Amity ” she replied, still looking outside the window. Amity! Oh Amity, Amity! You will make me a happy man. “ That ’ s a beautiful name, Amity. ” She turned her head and smiled wryly “ I ’ ve always hated it actually. I plan to change my name one day ” she said as she began to play with her bracelet. “ What would you change it to then? ” Sean asked, almost in flirtatiously. “ Jane ” she said with a pause. “ Plain Jane, that ’ s the name for me ” she said sweetly. I love you Sean thought. How can I love you, if I want to kill you? “ Well, I like either of them. They both suit you ” Sean replied, now feeling uneasy about what the night held for him. What was happening to him? How could he even feel like this? I will go through with this, it ’ s what I want, it ’ s what I need! He told himself. He began to struggle to find himself, he looked at his watch, ten minutes had passed, and he needed to get going if he wanted this to happen. Just before he went to ask her a question she got a flask out of her backpack. She looked at him and smiled. “ I ’ m not a big drinker but I find this warms me up. ” She went to take a swig but then paused “ Sorry, I ’ m so rude. Would you like some? ” She said her eyes still so sad. I love you, I love you, I love you! Sean sang to himself. Maybe a drink will help? I have to go through with this! “ Sure, why not? ” Sean said shrugging casually. He took three decent gulps and handed it back. “ Bottoms up ” She said, smiling at him in such a way that made him feel sick. Sean took a road taking them further from town, unbeknownst to Amity. Not long now my sweet Amity, I ’ ll make it as painless as possible He thought. “ You live by yourself? ” Amity asked. Sean nodded; he didn ’ t want to continue talking. The more she spoke, the weaker he became. “ Mmm solitude is bliss ” Amity said softly. “ I never understood that meaning up until about three years ago. I moved out from my mothers, went to another state and have been by myself ever since. It really is pure bliss, isn ’ t it? ” She said. He couldn ’ t take much more; she was perfect, just perfect. I want solitude with you and your lavender scent he thought achingly. “ Do you ever get lonely? ” she asked, pushing for a conversation. Sean cleared his throat, “ Sometimes, yes. Do you? ” he asking, trying to remain calm. “ Mainly on cold nights ” she said, staring at him. Sean lost all the moisture in his mouth while his forehead began to feel clammy. “ It ’ s especially cold tonight ” she said, now moving closer to him. Sean felt ill and started to feel his body turn limp. I can ’ t do this, this isn ’ t right! I can ’ t even control my body! Sean began to pull over in to an abandoned warehouse drive way. “ What are you doing? ” She said in a panicked voice. Sean turned to her and smiled sheepishly. “ I ’ m sorry that I have to do this, Amity, sweet Amity ” he said, struggling to get the words out. Then when he went for his fixed blade tucked in his boot, his whole body fell to one side. Sean was now pushed up against the driver ’ s door, he tried to grab the knife again but couldn ’ t, his arms had given way. What is happening? Sean screamed to himself. He began to panic. She ’ s going to get away! What if she goes to the police? Sean thought. He was then interrupted by Amity laughing. He tried to turn his head but couldn ’ t. She then moved his body in the centre of the seat and sat on top of him. He was confused. What was she doing? Why wasn ’ t she running? She then followed his hand and found the blade. She showed him the blade and shook her head at him mockingly. “ Now that ’ s not very friendly, is it? ” She said. He tried to scream but only managed to grunt loudly. “ Hey hey hey, Sean, there ’ s no need to be dramatic. ” She said while she stroked his hair. Sean started to lose consciousness, he tried to fight it. “ You know, I almost didn ’ t go through with this. You seemed like such a lovely guy. But then again, I ’ ve never had much willpower. ” She said as she continued to stroke his hair and hush him like a loving mother to her newborn child. Will I ever see you again sweet Amity? Sean thought to himself. Amity then presented her own blade and held it to Sean ’ s throat. Just before he lost consciousness Amity put her mouth to his ear and whispered “ You ’ re mine now. ”

[ WP ] You wake up , floating upright in a cloning tank . Your first fatal accident , and remote consciousness uplink . As your new eyes adjust and focus , you peer out and realise that several technicians are shouting and frantically grappling with a malfunction .

In the blink of an eye, it was gone. The muffled sirens, the awkward discomfort in her chest – in the end there had n't been time for pain. The worst part had been the anticipation, and even that had come and gone before she'd had time to breathe. All she could do was watch, instinctively raising her arms in front of her face as the debris flew towards her. *Where was... where am I? * She tried to open her eyes, but the world flooded her vision with blinding light, forcing her to squeeze her eyelids closed and shiver in darkness. The liquid surrounding her was cold, and she felt the stiff goosebumps rising on every patch of her naked body. Her ears rang with the sound of nothing in particular. She felt an emptiness inside her. *An... Anna. That's right. That's... me? * She could n't recall asking herself any questions, but the answers were there. As more details trickled into the forefront of her mind, she began to piece together still images of a bar. Or was it a restaurant? *Who is he? * Her mind fumbled, searching for a memory to pivot on. She did n't know why she was drawn to him. The motionless images came one after the other, but his face remained a blur. *Centaur Cafe. That's right... I had a... a... box? * Anna was beginning to feel a pressure in her forehead, as if someone was pumping air into her skull. *Such a tiny box... * She opened her eyes again, squinting against the bright lights surrounding her. Everything seemed to be white, with the exception of the shadowy silhouettes in the distance. Anna could see just enough to know they must be people. *Lee... Leah? No... * One of the silhouettes moved around more than the others. Something about the movements seemed agitated. *Li... Liam? Ah, yes, sounds so familiar... * She felt a surge of warmth fill her chest. Something about finding the name – thinking it, even – breathed life into her. *Liam! * Memories swirled through Anna's mind, rapidly producing images of his goofy smile and the feelings of butterflies filling her stomach. *Of course, the box... that was the night he... * Anna remembered the ring. Liam had been so nervous, he'd dropped the ring into a piece of cheesecake. Anna giggled to herself. Her laughter came out as gurgles, and her memories retreated. She felt an uncomfortable twitch in her back. *Where am I? * An image popped into her head – something moving unnaturally fast. Her shoulders tensed, bracing for impact. *That... was... that hit me. It must have hit me. * Suddenly, Anna realized where she was. She remembered the meeting with the insurance company, she remembered being on the fence about the ridiculous price tag, and she even remembered the pamphlet. *The Future of Life Insurance*, that's what it had said. Anna squinted again as she scanned her body, noticing the thin tubes attached to various parts of her body. *Only this is n't my body. It's an... empty shelf, a copy. A clone. My Clone... * Anna tried to remember what had happened to Liam. She had n't seen him getting struck by the debris, but they had been sitting so close. Their hands had been touching. Anna's back began to hurt, as if something was twisting her spine. She felt her legs, but her toes seemed to have gone numb. She could see more clearly now, and the silhouettes were unmistakably human. Many of the people were surrounding the agitated person, and a few had their arms moving, in what appeared to be explanatory gestures. Anna's back twitched again, and she looked down to her feet. Her vision was pretty clear at this point, and she saw her knees and toes floating. She tried to stretch her toes, but they did n't move. She tried bending her knees. They did n't budge. The agitated person pushed past the other people, who shook their heads in disapproval but did nothing more to intervene. Anna watched with curiosity as the figure approached. A few seconds later, she could tell the figure was a man. He was not fully clothed. *Liam! Is it you? * Anna gurgled softly in the water as her mouth lazily traced the words. His face had a few more lines on it than her memory had shown, but that was back when he'd proposed, years before they had even thought about buying into their insurance policy. Liam pressed his hand against the containment glass, peering in at her. His lips were moving, but no sound made it through the barrier. She tried to point her finger to her ear, but her arm was not yet that flexible. Instead, she raised her hand to the glass. She did n't have the strength to hold hers as high as Liam's, but he moved his hand down to meet hers. `` Good to see you,'' she mouthed to him through the liquid. His lips moved, but she could n't tell what he was saying. His mouth moved slowly at first, then picked up speed. His eyes were intense and his hand pressed against the glass more firmly. Anna felt another twitch in her spine, and her hand began to slip from the glass. It slid slowly, and even as she tried to prop it up she found herself unable to control her arm. Liam's own hand followed hers at first, and when he looked into her eyes she saw fear. She saw the tears of frustration building. And Anna knew. *Oh, Liam... I'm so, so sorry... * Anna looked into his eyes, her expression clear of anxiety. His own look softened as he held her gaze, seeing that she remembered; he could see that she recognized him. Anna nodded her head slowly. Another twitch in her spine, and Anna's neck stopped moving. Her eyes stayed focused on Liams'. As the cold she felt faded into numbness, the light in her peripherals dimmed. There was no feeling. No pain, no memories. Her shivers were gone. When her eyes began to slip away from Liam, she closed them, savoring him in her mind like a photograph. She thought of him one last time, sitting in front of her with the small box, smiling his goofy smile. She held onto all that was left of him as the photograph faded into darkness. It faded, and then there was nothing.

[ WP ] Your body is frozen into cryogenic sleep but for some reason your brain stays awake . 8 years later your ship arrives at the destination and the rest of the crew wakes up .

I thought it would be colder, overall. When my body was being prepped and I signed the mandatory liability claims, which I felt were more of a bureaucratic formality, oh how I wish I took that 10-day legal studies master course in Khan VR. My very nerves were glazed instantly with a thick preserving frost with its usual instant numbness, but something was off, I remembered the warning now: All Neural implants must be declared before service. I felt everything shut down except my tinnitus, a usually tolerable aftereffect of my subpar self-surgery. `` Fuck'' echoed through my very empty mind. When I decided to be an investigative journalist, examining the wrong doings of conglomerates that control entire asteroid mining expeditions and star-skimming operations, I felt that I was smart enough to know how to make a difference without being a martyr. Having illegally and home brew connected neural enhancers and occipital lobe'plants tied to my eyes was one of my ways to get a highclass admin position at Orion-Noko Production Enterprises without getting flagged as a corporate espionage agent, or worse a freelance reporter with a high sense of ethics. What I was lacking, was the actual experience with cryo-interaction with deep cognition implants. Luckily, 8 years in my own head without any sense except for thought has at least gave me time to manually reconstruct several lessons of nano-computing physics and bio-connections. What it has n't done, was keep me from making over 6 million different plans to crucify the O.N Enterprises CEO's scrotum on live feed. The one where I learn to terraform an asteroid into a large space golem that punches through that fucker's personal earth orbiting satellite island is my favourite. Though, what it helped me do is learn about the human machine, I knew my philosophy courses would play out one day. I could keep track of time through an internal clock, my neural works allow me to multitask cognitively, which most people without an implant will find a cognitive impossibility to actually think of two things at once, which is a life saver since I can keep time running. I knew the approximate time of our cryo-trip was 8-years, 3-years manual observation of the mineral harvest and some self-experimentation for those interested in the extra-credit. I'm a person known for thinking things through, as I am doing so in the 49.5 miliseconds as I can literally feel my body being unfrozen, the blackness only filled with my own mental illusions lifted and my first words being uttered, `` That was a nice 5 minutes of sleeping upwards. Got any cheese?'' I'm going to break this conglomerate apart and show the world and suffer another 8 years in my circus of a subconscious if I need to do it.

[ WP ] A confrontation set during a thunderstorm .

The storm came on slowly, looming ominously throughout the day until the fading light vanished beyond the horizon, and with it, peace. The winds howled furiously, the trees' branches shaking violently, the weaker ones snapping off. Then the black clouds unleashed the might of their rain The torrent drowned out all other sound. Only the terrible crack of thunder rose above the din, thrumming with deadly ominousness. Dust turns to mud, roads into rivers. Animals are driven inside with frantic energy as their minders urge them onward. Elsewhere, others race about in urgency as well. Up on the cliffs overlooking the port, the castle is awake in the storm. Staff enlist the aid of the palace guards, sending them to and fro bearing buckets as they struggle to prevent the leaks from damaging the castle. Throughout the castle can be heard the *Drip, drip, drip* of tin buckets and wooden pail as they rapidly fill up. The housekeeper directs battle-hardened soldiers as they race to keep the storm from ruining any of the priceless items within the palace. Perched up on the banister overlooking the great hall is Sir Lawrence, garbed in his cloak of office and badge of rank. Leaning against a tall marble column, he lets one of his booted feet dangle freely in the air, tapping absently to the sound of the nearest filling bucket. His eyeless sockets stare out emptily over the teem mass of servants and guards, taking in the scene like twin black holes. A skeletal hand is hitched on his sword belt, the leather well worn and oiled. The other scratches at a beard that has n't existed for a hundred years. Thunder roars. Then lightning strikes the castle, blinding the castle's staff and Lawrence's soldiers in a feverish light. Several cry aloud at painful brightness before it abruptly vanishes into lingering nothingness. Slowly, the work is resumed, men and women reorganizing the brigade of buckets and moving irreplaceable carpets and furniture to drying quarters. Sir Lawrence however has his attention directed elsewhere. His rotting head raised in alarm, he swings his hanging leg back over the railing and breaks out into a jog, chain mail rippling with his movements.With his left hand, he loosens the sword from its scabbard, readying it in case. *That was unnatural. Thunder before lightning? Impossible. Save for one reason... * His heavy boots thud against the cold stone of the floor as he races past the portraits of previous rulers, their usual stern gaze darkening. Eyes drip like melted tallow, leaking darkness onto the grey stone. Mouths widen sickeningly, growing wider and wider until their smiles stretch from ear to ear. Needle like teeth are planted in gums black with rot grin at Lawrence as he begins to sprint. Dark parodies of his own affliction laugh at him, hissing in delight as a cold knot forms in his mummified throat. Rain drips onto Lawrence's shoulder. Stealing a glance upwards, he witnesses the fresco overhead writhe in horrific fashion. Hundreds of beasts tear into one another. Hydras duel with griffins while phoenixes claw dragons before being roasted in bale-fire. Manticores are turned to stone upon gazing into the eyes of the Cockatrice. Lawrence pays them no heed, instead barreling down the hallway and slamming the door at the end clean open. The inch thick oak cracks as he enters the room. Queen Malvina is sitting down amongst physical darkness blacker than death itself. Kicking it up like fog as he makes his way towards her, the corners of his eyes glance around the room, at the corpses within the paintings that hang on the walls. His boots squelch from some unknown source hidden in the inky fog. Cradled within Malvina's arms is the limp body of Dieter, portions of him visibly rotting, his bright shining teeth revealed through the gaping wound in his cheek. One arm is but bone with shreds of ligaments hanging on. His open eyes are pale and dim. `` He's dead...'' She says softly, tears dripping down her cheeks. Sir Lawerence kneels down, gently taking the form of Dieter from her hands. `` No. He's not.''

[ WP ] Your closest friend , for reasons unknown , tries to kill you . You 're still alive because you pretended to be dead . Your friend has disposed of your `` body '' in the woods , and now you must find out why he attempted to kill you .

I know my roommate pretty well. Well, I guess `` knew him'', rather since he convincingly killed me and left me for dead without me seeing it coming at all. He only buried me about 3 feet deep. Huge mistake on his part. He even dug my `` grave'' with a gardening shovel. A spade? Would have been faster to actually stop somewhere and get a real shovel. He was really unprepared for this. So it's a rushed job ( he did n't even do a thorough checking of my vitals ). So either it was a very emotionally motivated crime, or he was put up to it very `` on the spot''. Regardless, when I see him again I'll have to anticipate a very emotional and instinctual reaction. Two days later, once I've made the proper arrangements, he walks into the same apartment in which we've shared beer and pizza; that he, hours later, dragged out my `` not-quite-a-corpse'' rolled into our living room rug. His keys drop to the ground as he stares in total shock in the doorway. `` How?'' the roommate says softly and very slowly. I laugh. `` I'm laughing because you've dropped your keys on the floor again, and in 3..2..'' The Roomba turns on, and as though it were malicious intent goes towards the keys and vacuums them up. `` Listen'' I say as I slowly swirl my scotch in its' glass on a couch that we both pay for. `` I do n't know exactly why you did what you did. Frankly I do n't care, nor do I foster any resentment. You should know though, the game is on.'' I shut the hall light off, walk to my room, and call it a night. Well, I peak my head back out my door at him to say `` Abandon all routine or this will be way too easy''. I go to sleep. The game is on.

[ WP ] Construction workers are exposed to a relic of magical power while beginning work on a new building . Slowly , it begins to change them ...

*Crack*. A large section of an old wall came crashing down. Dust and debris flew everywhere, a beam of water sprouted from somewhere, and yelling could be heard coming from upstairs. ‘ What the hell is going on down there? Phil? PHIL? Are you okay? ’ Phil shook his head, coughed a few times, patted his limbs, checking whether they were all there, and made his way towards the stairs. A loud ringing noise filled his ears. ‘ Yeah, yeah, I ’ m okay, fine, nothing to worry about. It ’ s just a piece of old— ‘ He fell silent, as he saw something amidst the mist of dust. A faint green light, blinking slowly, irregularly. Phil took out his flashlight from his utility belt and flipped the ‘ on ’ switch. No light. ‘ Goddamn batteries. Should have bought the top brand. Where are the spare— ‘ ‘ PHIL! Do I need to come down there? ’ interrupted the voice from upstairs. ‘ No no, it ’ s okay. It ’ s just, the flashlight. Its, uhm, batteries— ‘ Phil looked at the light again. It had started to blink more rapidly, and appeared to have moved a bit towards him. He felt the urge to meet it halfway, as if it was a love long lost, with who he finally reunited with. *Hug me, want me, kiss me, so close now, yes, almost, here, please, yes, YES, YEEESSS!!! * * * * * * Phil regained consciousness, and Matt was standing over him. His mouth moved, but Phil heard no words, just the ringing sound. It had not faded. Phil never noticed it before, but Matt only had one green eye. *Curious, looks good on him though. Mysterious. Goes great with his fingers. Always liked that tentacle look, bet his wife appreciates the possibilities too. * Slowly sound came back to Phil, and he could make out what Matt was saying. ‘ Nakz-hal retk-ii. Nakz-hal retk-ii! NAKZ!! NAKZ!!! ’ Matt ’ s eye had started to shine, like a blinking star. Bright green. First slowly, then rapidly. Phil looked down at his body, and wondered where his legs went.

[ WP ] You ( the real you ) encounter a bridge troll as you walk across a bridge . Now he has to ask you a riddle , and you 're not crossing his bridge until you solve it .

Dear Diary, I know its been a while but please forgive me. Earlier today when walking home from school I had a strange, no, the strangest thing that has ever happened to me happened today and I am totally freaking out. I was crossing Squash Creek on the north bridge like I do everyday after class. But this time when I approached the on ramp I noticed a small wooden stool sitting in the path. it was n't until I tried walking around it did I notice the..thing, I do n't know what to call it a troll maybe? Yeah, a troll that makes sense. I met a troll today. At first I though it was some crude creation of some meth tweakers made of dead cats and fish but then this harry, scalie thing turned to me and gave me a grin. I was so taken back that I fell on my ass right there. If not for that I would have been out of there instantly, and the fact that this thing started to speak to me..'' Easy there young-en!'' it said in a disturbingly human voice `` Where be you off to in such a hurry''? Naturally I answered it. I spoke back to the `` troll'', I must have been in shock still. `` I was just trying to cross here, I do it almost every day''. It was silent for a moment after that then replied `` You see son, this is my bridge now''! `` And you cross it on my terms''. He stuck some sort of crooked cane in my face as I started to get up to my feet. `` You must answer my riddle'' he choked out with a laugh. This was the point where I was convinced I had gone absolutely bonkers. I literally pinched myself which only aided in his laughter. `` What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence''? he said in a slow majestic voice. How was I supposed to know that? It was probably some ancient proverb or great life lesson I had never heard of..I tried reasoning with the thing but it would n't have any. I had to answer it..otherwise I would have to walk four miles to the other crossing. Yeah right. I sat there for about twenty minutes watching it shoo flies away until I had settled on an answer. it never told me what would happen if I was wrong in my reply... I opened my mouth to speak `` What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence''? I repeated. `` Its time to buy a new fence'' I said confidently. The trolls face showed no emotion until he suddenly erupted in laughter, he even fell off his stupid stool. Was I right I thought to myself. I then decided that while he mocks my wrong answer I was n't going to take any of that. I ran. I ran fast and did n't turn back. Now I'm recording it all. Should I tell my parents? What if it followed me? Was my answer right? I'm not even sure it actually happened..

[ IP ] Witch

She knows what happens next because we are the hurricane and we are the flame. Her wings are wet when she returns home to me tonight. The circle of fire that binds us together reflects in the tiny droplets on her blackdark wings - she lands, alight with the flame on my outstretched hands. I hold her close and she rests her weary head against my cold, white neck. I know that the rain has begun and nothing will stop it until the wicked city is washed away. I know because I brought the rain. I brought the rain because I ’ ve been watching from a dark and dreamy world away. The night she first crash-landed into my arms, she cried and told me the story of how she came to be so battered and bruised. She took me to her home and I watched while her world was ravaged by fear and by hate. I watched and held her at night while she cried and begged for my help. I laid by her side and I strengthened my bond to her tortured world until I was strong enough to bring the rain that will wash it away. And now here is my darling, worn weary from the battle she so willing fights, traveling faithfully between our two worlds. Her wings beat ever so softly against the fate of her world, creating new and beautiful patterns when she flies to my side. She is shot from the sky time after time, and still she returns to me, bruised and sometimes broken. I hold my precious, wounded bird gently against my heart. I promised her rain. And after the rain, I will bring the fire. I studied her world while she slept. I mastered the laws of nature in her world as I have in mine. I learned to control the tide that is tethered to her beating heart and the winds that are now controlled by her sleeping sighs. She doesn ’ t know the power I breathe into her when we meet in her dreams. I protect her from the chaos that she helps me create by clouding her memory of me while she ’ s awake. I have whispered my secrets into the girl ’ s ear while she sleeps. I have wanted her to know what I have planned for her world. I want her to know because our fates are now one and I know that one day she will remember. I need her to live so that she will continue to dream. In her dreams is where I find her, and from there that I work. When she wakes, her sheets are damply tangled around her bare legs. She feels something lurking, perched in a far corner of her mind. There is a light tapping at her window and she recognizes the soothing sound of summer rain. Pulling aside the curtains, she smiles at the kids that are already splashing happily in the growing puddles. “ I hope you know how to swim, ” she cheerfully whispers.

[ WP ] DC Comics introduces its newest superhero . This character was seemingly created for the sole purpose of offending as many readers as possible .

`` Throw that garbage out! Right now!'' Jackson flinched as the words were barked by his superior, but hastily grabbed up the sketches he has lain on his boss's desk mere moments ago. `` Are-are you sure he wo n't work as a character?'' Jackson asked again, finding that his voice was growing thinner the more his boss's eyes furrowed. `` Throw it out, Jackson,'' the voice came out a bitter hiss, a darkness emanating from behind the mahogany desk. `` Throw it out, or it's your job that's in the garbage.'' Jackson nodded and quickly took off, dashing out of the office and back to his drawing desk. He took one more sorrowed look at the sketch in his hands before sighing, feeding the leaves of paper into the shredder. He should have known not to show it to his boss. The artists around him had all complained about how offensive it was and that if that was the best Jackson could think of, he might as well turn in his resignation and burn his desk. He guessed no one would ever like The OP.

[ WP ] Humans are actually the most violent , war-geared species in the galaxy . Another alien species has come to us with a request : `` We need help killing these guys , they hate us and have oil . Here , have some technology and go nuts . ''

It's kind of a dick move that they sent me alone. Not complaining. Mr. Alien Overlord said they only needed one guy. Mr. President asked Mr. General to recommend a Mr. Best-Marine-In-The-Army. Mr. General recommended Mr. Myself here. So they stuck Mr. Myself here on a rocket and shipped me off to the Andromeda Galaxy. `` Relax,'' Mr. Alien Overlord had said, `` It'll be fine.'' They gave me a small device like an iPod with a single button for a display and said, `` That is our technology. You don ’ t press the button until you watch the instructional video.'' `` Where's the instructional video?'' `` We'll send it to you when it ’ s time.'' Yeah. Ok. Of course I'll do it. Racist aliens that want to eliminate every other species in the galaxy? Yeah, I'll help you fight them. Yeah, I trust that this box with a button will help me defeat a planet. Yeah, you got it under control. But now I'm getting closer to the planet. And no instructions. Nothing. Dick move. For real. I check through the windshield outside – the planet is red, and it's growing closer. What do I do if I get there and there's no instructions? Ask for directions? Tell them I'm lost? Join them and become an intergalactic racist so I do n't die? I pull the button-device from my pocket and study it. I've contemplated pressing the damn thing like a hundred times in the week it took for me to get here. But they told me to wait. They told me to wait, so I'm waiting. The dicks. `` Identify yourself,'' comes a voice through my speakers. Shit. I look down at the button again. `` Identify yourself now or we will open fire.'' They see me. No more time. Crap. I hover my hand over the button. I hear the Overlord Alien's voice, back at the meeting on Earth: `` *It is essential that you wait for instructions before pressing the button*.'' `` This is your last warning. Identify yourself or we will –'' The voice dies away in a hiss, like a radio switching between stations. I look up and my windshield is taken over by the Alien Overlord's face. `` Hello, Mr. Austin,'' the video starts. `` Thank you for waiting for the instructions before pressing the button.'' `` How did you know I did n't press the –'' `` A quick overview, before we talk more about the device you carry with you – our species has recently found out that the universe we all live in is – in fact – a simulation.'' `` What?'' I ask, like the video can hear me. `` After some debating, we decided that this did n't really matter, since we had no way of getting out of the simulation. So we carried on with our lives.'' `` Well, that does make sense…'' `` Like all simulations, however… Universe has some… glitches. Bugs you can exploit, if you get access to the source code.'' I look down at the button again. `` That is all you need to know. Please use the device in your possession with responsibility, and return it to us once you've finished your mission. Best of luck and… have fun.'' The Overlord disappears, and my windshield goes back to reflecting the red planet, where a bunch of black ships are now hovering in front of it, their laser guns pointed my way. `` Ready to open fire!'' comes the voice again. The button looks up at me, and I look down at it. `` Fuck it,'' I say, pressing down on it. A screen rises from the device like a hologram, flashing in blue. A menu. ***CHEATS*** *INFINITE LIFE* *INFINITE AMMO* *EXPLOSIVE BULLETS* *GIANTS HEADS* *ALL WEAPONS* *SUMMON MR. MEESEEKS* *ARMOR UP* *LIFE UP* In slow motion, I look from the menu to the windshield, where more and more ships gather around me. `` Open fire!'' comes the voice, and the laser guns shift my way. `` Oh, this is going to be fun,'' I say, feeling a smile creeping into my face as I press the first option on the menu.

[ WP ] You are the son of a prolific serial killer who uses you as bait to lure his victims . You finally decide to retaliate .

I hated doing this, ibutI had to. It was always the same. The peeling wallpaper in the train compartment, The uncomfortable seats, the boring English countryside, father's breath ticking away the time. I had to sit perfectly still or father would start to get angry, and he did terrible things while calm, he was horrible when he was angry. `` You must be calm. This is a dance we are doing. We must be perfect or it will all go terribly. I would be most upset if things went poorly.'' My father spoke with a perfect cadence, every word a measured thing. `` I know this, Father. I hate that you do it this way. That you must make me do these things. It's terrible.'' I mumbled softly while watching the clock. It was three fifty-seven am. The plan was to go into effect at four. `` We have spoken on this. You will continue to do as instructed. I will hear no more of this.'' Father explained, his voice hard and cruel. The next three minutes were horrible. We sat there in perfect silence, both of us watching the clock. Once it stroke seven I stood and opened the train door. I waved down one of the workers, She waved back and started walking my way. The plan had to start exactly at four, four hours after the train set off from London. This was the time when the worker would be finishing her rounds and not be noticed for another three hours. I stepped back into the carriage and sat down. Father smiled at me from where he hid behind the door. The stewardess peaked her head in a question on her lips. I spoke my lines, they had been practiced a thousand times before father said I got them right. `` Oh. I do n't mean to bother, but the blinds on this window are tricky and the sun is blinding.'' As I spoke I knew the girl's fate was sealed. She stepped into the carriage to fix the blind. My father moved quickly, as he plunged a knife into the girl's neck. She did not have time to scream before crumpling to the floor. `` You see boy. Nobody can take this from us. This was a perfect plan. Nobody will know what happened to her. All the waiting was worth it.'' He always loved his speeches after a kill. I moved just as quickly as he did when I buried my own knife into his spine. `` You always plan to much old man. I had to wait months for this kill. Why spend months planning on ten seconds of bliss. I'm done with you father.'' I hissed in his ear as his body collapsed onto hers. Father's plan was perfect. Exactly at this moment, the train was moving over a bridge, so nobody noticed the bodies being pushed out of the window to plummet into the icy waters below. I laid down for the best sleep I had had in years.

[ WP ] You are trapped with something attempting to pass for a human , poorly . You try your best to not reveal you see past its ruse .

its been 5 days. no, maybe 6. At this point the number of days does n't seem to matter much. Im much more concerned about how we will get food and water. Theres only three of us; me, my Co worker Tommy, and a random named Jason. Our best guess is that an all out war broke out and there probably are n't many people left in the city that we're in, we got hit pretty hard. I could see nothing but plains, trucks, tanks, missiles, and bullets when i was on my way to grab a late dinner and head back to the office. Not only was there an overwhelming amounts of military presence, but there were some strange aircrafts that I, nor Tommy could identify. We took refuge in the basement of the office, i guess working late finally paid off because my apartment building was completely demolished from what i could see. We saw a man running for his life jus before we headed for the basement so we let him in, introduces himself as Jason, and that was that. Day 7: So far we've been pretty understanding as to why Jason has seemed a little... off. I mean, the man says he has a family that he has no idea if they are okay, nor would i guess that they are. The entire world as we know it could be crumbling and or completely gone by now; we're all a little stressed to say the least. But Jason seems to have a certain trait about him that we ca n't put our finger on. His slouched posture, very long arms, and almost always bent knees give him an eerie appearance. His words are slurred and jumbled to the point that you would think he's either wasted or just learned the language... we're going to be keeping an eye on him. Day 8: We broke into a locked supply closet on the 4th floor and found a couple cases of water and granola bars mixed in with office supplies, so we've bought ourselves a little bit more time. Once again, Jason has given me more reasons to be suspicious of his motives. We all decided to check each floor for supplies since our situation was getting dire and we needed food and water. I took the 2nd, Tommy took the 3rd, and Jason was given the 4th. After searching to no avail me and Tommy met back up on the main floor and doubled over each of our floors to make sure we did n't miss anything. Jason then met us soon after on the 2nd floor and said he did n't find anything either. `` okay'' i replied, `` we're double checking each of the floors just to make sure we did n't miss anything. help us clear this one and the 3rd then we'll go up to the 4th and check that one again as well.'' Jason then seemed very reluctant to the idea and even accused me of not trusting him. That's okay, were all hungry and on edge. I calm but firmly tell him that our only motives are to find some supplies to help us last a little while longer until we can find some better placement other than this ( office that i love being in so much. ) So, as a team, we make it to the 4th floor and conduct our search. not 10 minutes in we come across a locked door that almost looked like someone was trying to hide it. strange, i thought. how could Jason miss this door that was pretty much right infant of your face when you walk up the stairs. i shrugged it off and said `` lets bust it open. Theres bound to be something useful in there.'' Tommy, mirroring my confusion of Jason, was down. Grabbed a chair and made his way to the door to help me bust it down. Its been a few hours since and Jason's only take a couple sips of water and has n't touched the granola bar. Im not sure how he's still standing considering how long we've gone without food or water. More for us i guess... Day 10: Tommy's gone. I finally found the ease of mind to take a nap for a little while and upon waking up i see Jason in his corner and Tommy's nowhere to be found. `` uh..where's Tom?'' i ask Jason, `` Oh I'm not sure. he said he wanted to go check out the 4th floor again for more supplies. He should be back soon.'' he said in a very calm tone. That's reasonable, i thought. `` Ill go join him, I'm pretty curious as well.'' `` NO'' pleads Jason,'' what?'' i replied, `` i mean, uh, I tried to go with him too. He said we should stay down here. He wanted to be alone for a little while.'' ``... alright. i guess ill stay here then.'' That just does n't seem like Tom to me. My watch broke when breaking into that closet but I've got to imagine Its been close to 4 hours since I've woken up and he's still not back. Im going up there to look for him if he's not back soon. With or without Jason. Night of Day 10: Oh god i hope he's not wondering where I'm at yet. Jason was beginning to nod off so i slipped out of the basement and made my way upstairs to look for Tommy. I did n't have to go more than one flight of stairs before i saw a trail of blood along the walls and hand railing. That, and half of his shirt, are the only things I've found of Tommy so far. I was wondering why the hell Jason had only his undershirt on when i woke up. What the fuck did he do to him? Honestly thats not something i really want to know right now. All i know is i need to get the hell out of here befor *first time posting, would love feedback!

[ WP ] You are a detective who can read minds . But the person you are questioning does n't have any thoughts despite carrying on a conversation . You suspect something unnatural about him .

Paul's technique was so simple that a few years ago the department had paid him a large bonus to help publish a training video with the hope that other detectives would be able to adopt his strategy and begin closing their cases at a higher rate. Paul's 100 % conviction rate was unprecedented and the higher ups wanted more than anything to crack his code. Problem was, and Paul knew this when they had asked him to make the video, that his technique would n't work for anyone other than himself. Though he had n't let that small detail keep him from agreeing to do it in order to gain a few extra dollars. See, Paul knew he could do anything he wanted and be a rich man using his `` gift'' but Paul was n't a greedy man. Truth was that he truly enjoyed his job and the sense of accomplishment he received from helping his small community by getting people that he knew were truly guilty of their crime off the street. Over the years Paul had become a legend among local law enforcement officers and it was n't uncommon for most of the department and sometimes even the mayor to stop what they were doing and come to watch his interrogation from behind a one way mirror. Although murders were n't unheard of by any means, this case was so horrendous that even the FBI had come to town to help handle the investigation. The crime had been on the news for several days prior to them finally tracking down their only suspect, and the whole town was still in shock from what few details had leaked out. Word around town was there were so many body parts that the officers had n't been able to determine the number of victims, and it had been nearly a week! One thing the detectives and FBI officers working the case did know was that the victims had n't come from this town. In fact they could n't find where the victims had come from at all. Preliminary DNA results were n't providing any leads and the detectives had nothing to go on other than a vague description, given by a well known homeless drunkard, of a tall man in a dark coat. The drunkard had told officers that he saw the man leaving the park, where the bodies had been found, and walking towards a local motel. The officers had went directly to the motel where they found the strange man and brought him into the station without incident. Even though the FBI was leading this investigation, they were aware of Paul's flawless conviction record and agreed that he should be the one to question this strange man; the only possible suspect they that had. So Paul began his interview process the same as he always did, just like he had done for the training videos, by being very friendly to the man and offering him food, drinks, cigarettes etc. The man politely declined all of Paul's offerings and continued to sit there across the table with the same blank expression on his face he had when the officers initially arrested him. None of this phased Paul as he knew he would have the answers to all of his questions in no time. Considering his audience, he decided to cut straight to it, Paul hit him with the key phrase that he had become famous for. `` You know exactly why you are sitting right here, right now, right in front of me do n't you?'' Paul had asked this question countless times of guilty men who usually responded with something like `` no I have no idea'' and their minds would then begin racing, actually answering the question thus telling Paul everything he needed to know. However, Paul was not ready for what happened when he asked this strange man the `` famous key phrase,'' and neither were all of the FBI agents, detectives, and even the Governor who had made a special trip into town to watch. **Taking a break, will continue if Reddit tells me that I should.: )

[ WP ] A person who lived their life exactly even , every bad thing they did was countered with an equally good thing , finally died . Heaven and Hell does n't know what to do with them .

`` Peter we've been through this a million times, actually more. I do n't know what you expect us to say.'' A group of paper-pushers busied themselves, avoiding Peter's eyes while Peter smoked a cigarette, anxiously flicking it. An individual by the name of MATT BERG recently arrived for process and neither subsequent departments ( Heaven, Hell ) were willing to take him. However, this posed a problem for both departments. Typically speaking, this type of situation was very rare - the last similar case had occurred pre-resurrection and, fittingly, their had been a slew of departmental policy changes following the shakeup. According to some of the older department heads it had been a logistical nightmare. Peter finished his cigarette, exhaled, and spoke: `` The way I see it, we only have one option. Send Matt back and, with any luck, we wo n't have to deal with this mess the next time around... I mean, what are the odds he'll come back with an even count? Albeit possible it's hardly probable.'' Mother Teresa chimed in: `` You ca n't do that without a sign-off from the boss. See Lazarus Edict 2012.7'' Peter looked at Teresa with malice... This politicking bitch had been nothing but a series of bureaucratic headaches since her hire. `` Okay then, what do you propose, Teresa? Because all I'm hearing are rebuttals sans solutions... something you've gained a knack for, I might add.'' Teresa busied herself with paperwork, paying no mind to Peter's not-so-subtle underhand remark. `` Bring it to JC's attention and that will be that.'' Was this bitch serious? As if JC did n't have enough shit on his plate. Peter was reaching his breaking point. Michael walked into the room. `` What's up my people? Heard through the cloud-line that we got ta Lazarus case on our hands? Am I sending someone back? Just give me the word and --'' Teresa chimed in: `` No because we do n't have JC's sign-off. Peter knows this.'' God-damn whore. `` Teresa, take 15.'' `` I took my 15 107 years ago I'm not due for another until --'' `` TAKE 15 TERESA.'' Teresa glared at Peter and slowly shuffled out. About fucking time. Michael sat down in Teresa's chair and lit a cigarette. `` What seems to be the issue Pete? Something tells me you wan na expedite without the boss man signing off... Which I'm all for, but I'd at least like an explanation.'' Peter paused. He might as well get it off his chest. `` Listen, JC is bogged down and I do n't wan na be the guy who tells him we got another potential Lazarus case... And if I have to deal with that headache, rest assured you will too.'' Michael smiled and ashed his cigarette on Teresa's desk. `` Alright Pete, I can swing it but we'll need to talk to Bon down in Hell if we want to swing it without Teresa sounding the alarm. I hate bureaucratic bullshit as much as the next angel but I also like my job and am not about to get shuffled off to Hell to work under Bon... the guy's been playing Highway to Hell on repeat since he moved into his new office. Fucking cock.'' `` Well, let's get it going then. I want this finished before Teresa comes back from her 15.'' We took the inter-dimensional tram over to Hell and, after lengthy, unnecessary vetting by the security guard, were let in. As we arrived at Bon's office the song `` Girls Got Rhythm'' blared from the inside. `` At least he switched things up. This is a jam. Reminds me of a party I was at in Sodom & Gomorrah, Lot was hooking up with a straight 10. A shame, really.'' All the suits outside of Bon's office were surprisingly professional. Truth be told, it looked like they had a more efficient system than Peter had over in Heaven. When Peter and Michael entered Bon's office he was in the middle of a phone call. `` I do n't give a damn if she wants a transfer. This is fucking Hell and we're the department heads... Yes of course and no definitely not. You and I both know what Lucifer's response to that will be... Okay, let me know how it goes.'' Bon hung up and smiled. `` Gentleman. What brings you to these parts? Let me guess... looking for wiggle room with a potential Lazarus edict discrepancy?'' Bon was a cocky little shit. Peter spoke: `` You obviously know why were here. So what'll it be?'' Bon drew the blinds. His office had a wicked view of the lake of fire. Various pictures of Bon and hell notables adorned his office. The most visible was a picture of Bon and Mussolini holding a gigantic cat-fish like creature that they'd pulled out of the lake of fire. `` The way I see it, it should n't be a problem. But Teresa seems to be the real problem. Granted, I could n't give 7 shits whether she damages your rapport with JC. He's not my boss and, therefore -- `` Not your problem.'' Interjected Michael. `` Precisely. But I know you're clever enough to find a way around this?'' Of course, just backlog him... Teresa wo n't come across it for at least 1,000 years and by that time the poor fuck will already be dead. Let's just hope it's not quite as balanced of a problem next time around.'' Peter was no fan of Bon but he had to admire the can-do attitude. Plus, Bon got shit done. Bureaucracy be damned. Michael clasped his hands. `` Well that settles it then. I'll send Matt back and you and Bon will backlog him. No JC sign-off no problem.'' Peter breathed a sigh of relief. One less problem to bring to JC's attention.

[ CW ] Childhood memory poem

Holy shit trains, Trains for days, My Scale Electric, Rail way. It had tunnels and turns, And signals and sound. I'd watch as they travelled, Around and around. They never went far, My bedroom was small, But my imagination Made up for it all. `` Here it comes again!'' I'd scream in delight, Playing for hours, From morning till night. - But then came a time, When I could n't play... I must've been bad, Cause dad took them away, I said I was sorry, I asked what to do, But then Daddy left, And he took the car too. Mum got a lawyer, Dad married again, But I was left lonely, Without my toy train.

[ WP ] `` The darkness is similar to a spider ; we may fear it , but it fears us more . ''

They tell us that the darkness is feared simply because it is unknown. That may have fooled me when I was young but now I think I know better. They told us never to go near the place where the darkness resides, but I saw someone go there the other night. I followed. Along the winding path, I could only hear the leaves rustle and my own faint footsteps. Ahead of me was the figure, walking briskly down the path. I flicked on my dim flashlight and kept it pointed on the ground. I defeated the darkness before me with the light. It closed itself around me, embracing me in a chilled choke-hold. I suddenly got the screaming urge to turn around. I should have. Whomever I was following has disappeared from my sight, another victim enveloped by the darkness. How scarcely we learn from our mistakes. I do n't know how I got home but when I awoke, but it was dark. I rushed to flip my lightswitch to once again defeat the darkness. There was a note pinned to my door, confirming my suspicion that someone brought me here. It simply read `` Do n't''. And I wo n't. The elders were right.

[ WP ] No one mourns the deaths of monsters

**October 7, 2046** They rode in silence. The crew compartment was stuffy, cramped. Slim tendrils of blue smoke snaked from the captain ’ s cigar, dancing in the red running light. John sat with his back to the hull, listening to the dull roar of the hoverjets, the mechanical chorus of readied weapons, the whispered prayers. This was the third year of the operation, the largest ground war in living memory. Before they shipped out the CO had praised their bravery, their courage, their strength. They were rebuilding America, one city block at a time. They would be remembered as heroes. * “ Thirty seconds! ” * The call came through his headset. Within the claustrophobic confines of his helmet John watched his heads-up display flare to life; suit vitals, overhead map, bullet-pointed objectives. He looked around at the up-armored soldiers around him, watched as they went through their pre-battle rituals. He tried to guess who they were beneath the dull, emotionless visors. The captain rose, cradling her helmet under one arm, the other bracing against the hull. “ Alright, listen up, ” she shouted over the bubbling commotion, “ our target is an insurrectionist strong hold out past Old Seattle. Reports indicate a large stockpile of weapons and ammunition has been moved underground, into the subway tunnels. They ’ ve been peppering our boys for weeks, and we ’ re gon na stop em. So check your weapons, keep your heads down, and don ’ t get killed. ” John could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the haunted thousand-yard stare so common among the veterans. The captain surveyed the soldiers, nodded, and slipped on her helmet. With a wave of her hand the thirty men and women rose. The light shifted green, the transport landed with a spine-jarring impact, and the rear hatch hissed open. Into chaos. *** His head pounded, he could taste blood. John came to with a start, fighting for breath. His vision was dark. For a heartbeat he feared he was blind, until a small, red warning icon flashed before his eyes. John reached up, undid the clasps around his neck, and tossed his dented helmet aside. He was on his back, staring up at a smoke-clouded sky. He could hear the staccato retorts of small arms fire echoing across the city, the tortured screams. He tried to rise, but collapsed when his knee buckled. He looked down and nearly vomited at the site of his leg. A nearby explosion shook him to his senses, and he took in the scene around him. The transport listed over him, nearly toppled. It had touched down along a residential street lined with burned-out houses and smoking craters, before meeting its end; the front half had been ripped open and was dripping molten slag on the cracked pavement. There were bodies. He felt for his rifle, but it was gone. He reached for his sidearm, but it too was missing. He pulled the reserve radio from his belt and scanned through the channels, but all that returned was static. A thought surfaced through the daze; get off the street. Bracing himself, John rose on his elbows and crawled away from the smoldering wreck, wincing as his mangled leg jostled along the uneven ground. He didn ’ t know where to go, just that he should be away. His head was spinning, and he had to stop several times to catch his breath and fight back the encroaching darkness. Feeling his strength returning, John reached out for a fallen tree branch and hoisted himself to his feet, using the limb as a crutch. Before him was a house, relatively untouched by the flames and the battle, and through his addled mind he figured it to be a safe place to hide, to wait for reinforcements. There would be reinforcements, right? John looked around, but the street remained empty, save for the occasional crow swooping in for a feast. The shelter of the house called to him, reached out. He doubled his pace. As he hobbled up the driveway, past the scorched hulk of a minivan, he did a double-take. There, in the window, was a face, for just a moment. Ignoring his mounting fears, he called out, a desperate wordless plea. He stumbled, landing on the ruined remains of his leg. The world swam, he tasted copper, and the darkness swept over him like a warm wave. *** John awoke to a sharp pain in his leg. He tried to call out, but his throat was parched, and all he could manage was a wheeze. He looked around through crusted eyes; he was in a room, thin streams of light filtering through pin-prick bullet holes. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he began make out figures, sheltered in the gloom. As the past events surfaced in his memory, John instinctively pushed himself upright and nearly swooned as the pain returned in full. He managed to reach the far wall and sit up, his back supported by the rotting woodwork. A break in the cloud cover cast a ray of light into the house; it was a living room, tattered and singed. Furniture had been shoved against the windows, boards had been hammered across the door, and there were people. For the first time in the war, John got his first true look at the enemy. They were men and women, some old, some young, all hunched, grey-faced, exhausted, and all carried weapons. They stared at him with dull, lifeless eyes. For what seemed to John like an eternity, nobody moved. The gunfire beyond the thin walls slowed, then stopped. The group before him shuffled, seeming unsure of what to do. Finally, John stomached his fear. “ Water… ” he croaked, reaching out the group. There was a hushed conversation among the gaunt crowd. Then a man walked forward, who must have been their leader. He was young, yet the pain in his eyes denied his age. He carried a pistol. The man walked across the room to stand before John. For a heartbeat the two locked eyes, and John realized that they were likely the same age. They might have even gone to the same schools, before the insurrection. The pistol wavered, then rose, the cold barrel pressed against John ’ s forehead. “ This is for Lisa… ” Beyond fear, John nodded, closed his eyes, and waited. But the shot didn ’ t come. The barrel fell, and John heard the young man step back amid a torrent of angry whispers. When he opened his eyes there was a face there, a young girl of no more than six. She reached for his hand and wrapped his fingers around a cracked china cup. “ Drink… ”

[ WP ] Everyone hears the same song one minute before they meet their true love for the first time . The hour is late and you are driving , alone , miles from town . You hear the song .

I've been driving all night, and most of the day before it. It does n't help that it gets dark at like, four in this god-forsaken state. To make matters worse, just like every other state with more cows than people, it's absolutely frigid. If I see one more empty cornfield, I might just scream. I glance down at the radio. Two AM, exactly three minutes from the last time I checked it. On the bright side, that means only about six more hours of driving. On the other hand, I've been on the road for about ten hours more than that. There are a small collection of lights up ahead; I utter a silent thanks to whatever may be listening, as I have three Red Bulls and a Gatorade's worth of a piss to take. The town is tiny, and the'Welcome' sign says it on both sides. I always thought places that small were a joke. Really, it's a wonder this collection of farmers that happen to live next to each other has the traffic for a 24 hour gas station, but here it is. I pull up in front of it, and briefly consider turning off my engine.'Fuck that,' I think to myself. I'm not getting back into a freezing car, and the twelve people that live in this town are either asleep or working in a gas station. I step out, careful not to hit the'lock' button as I exit. This is not a place one should be stuck out of their car. The high-school aged kid working the till does n't even look up from his phone as he mutters something unintelligible that I assume is a greeting. I grunt back in kind, and go into the bathroom to take the most glorious leak of my life. On my way out, I buy one of those 1.5 liter'travel sized' waters, just because I hate stopping at a place just to use the facilities. The exchange is over, and I brave 15 yards of frigid weather to get back into my warm car that I'll spend the next quarter-day in and pull out of the lot. 2:16 AM. Could time pass any slower? I sort of zone out for a while. Straight roads, dead of winter, not a single other car since about 10 PM, what reason is there to pay attention? I snap back to reality when I hear it. The song. Everyone says something douchy about it. `` You'll know when you hear it.'' `` I could never even begin to explain it''. Without exception, I responded with a smart ass remark, never believing a word. But it's loud. So loud, I worriedly begin to look for a train, or a semi honking at me, about to end my life before I realize how beautiful it is. I'm nearly brought to tears listening to it, like some cheesy choir of angels was descending, telling me what was about to happen. The voice is the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Like honey pouring into my ears. I'm so entranced by it, I would n't have even noticed the gun if not for the cold metal against the back of my head. `` Hey, sweetie,'' the apparent love of my life says softly. `` I'm still gon na need you to pull the car over.''

[ WP ] Dr. Frankenstein enters a bodybuilding competition due to a big misunderstanding

As the sky darkened and clouds moved in, a burst of lightning illuminated the charcoal sky and the surroundings low rises of Newarc, New Jersey. The artificial lights flickered to match the rhythm of the thunder. Above the operating table dressed in white robes, the Doctor was at work once again. After his last monster laid waste to his ancestral land in Europe, the Doctor was forced to exile himself. He chose the new world. With the town of Newarc in New Jersey as his home base, the Doctor was hard at work once again. This time with a plan to avenge those who wronged him. The thunder roared once again, masking the knocking at the door. He didn ’ t hear the door slam open. It was Vincenza from the beauty salon on the ground floor, rollers still in her hair. With the spray tan on half of her body, she looked like she stepped into a mud pool on her way over. And with the expression on her face she looked more so the monster that jumped out of that pool. Sneaking up on the Doctor she screamed, “ Hey would ya keep it down we got ta clients down der! ” The Doctor sprang into the air, surgical wire in hand. “ Oh my gwad what are ya up to? ” Vincenza, a New Jersey native and mob wife, confronted him in her thick Italian-America accent full of its nasality and coated with nosiness. She couldn ’ t wait to see how this juicy piece of potential gossip would unfold. Her eyes widened. “ Erm ah um, vell I vaz jast doing some…threading ” The Doctor answered nervously in his thick German accent. He has been caught, he thought. After what happened in his homeland, he did not want to move again. Argentina would be his next destination; he has friends from his homeland ’ s academia in exile there. But as a vegetarian with Crohn ’ s he wanted to avoid steak and wine. Plus his grade school bully was from Buenos Aires. He did not want to bring back those painful memories. “ Oh threading! We do it all o ’ da time down der in our shop. We got some hawt badies comin ’ in today for a canstest and dey got ta look a real good. Real gold. ” `` Bodies you say? ” The Doctor ’ s shoulders and arms lowered and relaxed. A puzzled look came on his face. His creations were puzzles, and he personally carved the pieces. He was looking for a few items to compose his jigsaw. “ Oh ye! The hawtest badies in the state. Hell, the hawtest badies in da East of da country are a comin ’ a here. Happenin ’ in our salon in a half ’ a hour. You should come and checka her out. But keep da noise down ‘ cause we got ta get a finished making dem golden – if ya know what I mean sweethart. ” Vincenza turned around and bounced towards the door like the jumpy mud monster that she looked like. Thinking she had the latest scoop on the new neighbour upstairs, who was now a mysterious eyebrow threader, she couldn ’ t wait to share the news with her gals. She slammed the door behind her. The Doctor was gleeful. That stupid monster has just handed him the parts for his next project. He removed his lab coat and ran to the back of the apartment. Climbing through the window, one leg at a time, he stumbled and fell onto the fire exit. The clumsy nerd that he was, he managed to tumble down the fire exit steps; the slippery rails and freshly wet steps helped him lose his balance. He forced his way through the back door of the beauty salon. There, his eyes widened and he froze. A tree of a man, with skin brown as oak bark and wide as the trunk, with a black hedgehog for hair stood in the narrow hallway behind the door and brought down his tiny dark eyes to stare at him. “ Hey boy you is a late. You must be dat natural fitness guy dey was a talkin ’ about. Scrawny as a mozzarella stick and soggy as a old pizza, ” The tree laughed, his roaring laughter shaking the walls “ Look at a yo scrawny self, and pale too. Good luck. But take a ya shirt and pants aff first, don ’ t be a wuss. ” The Doctor was too afraid to say no. His Argentinian childhood bully taught him not to fight back. He complied. As he removed his clothes, his pale skin brightened up the room. As soon as he was in his bleached tighty-whities, the tree pushed him through a set of heavy and dark doors a few steps down the narrow hallway. The lights blinded him, and he covered up his eyes. The roaring laughter of the crowd pained his gentle academic ears, used to library volume. He squinted and viewed what was in front of him through the gaps in between his fingers…and froze...

[ WP ] Lifespan is determined by a word count . You 're given millions of words , but once you run out you 're dead . You are a mob hitman known as `` The Interrogator , who specializes in `` making people talk '' . You come across a mark that has one word left .

I'm sitting opposite a man. Someone who I had never met before in person but who's life I have memorized in its totality. My childhood has always been rather hazy, so I feel as though I've supplemented it with pictures of happiness found in the old, meticulous diary entries of the individual before me. It is n't the first time I've done this. The only way to get someone to talk is to truly become the them. Truth is as relative as the universe in which it has been conceived and I for one have created a very relative universe for myself. `` Blink once for a yes and twice for a no, do you understand?'' 'Blink' The white walls of the eight by ten room had recently really started to take a toll on me, but they served a purpose. There was a certain spaceless quality it imbued that allowed me to pull the mark out of the real world, and into one of my own creation. `` Now, I am going to show you a short clip. You will not like the contents of this video. You are to watch the whole thing and will not close your eyes or look away for it's duration. Is this also understood?'' A pair of piercing blue eyes stared back defiantly. The man to whom they belonged sat in an uncomfortable looking slouch. His balding head seemed to be attracted to his left shoulder, mirroring the way his penis rested on his left testicle. He looked retched. The bruising on his shoulders and chest told a story of the failed attempts of amateurs, trying to make him talk. I know this ploy, I do n't like using words and speak only for my job. This is a luxury i enjoy utilizing. I am an artist and my work is performed always for an audience of one. `` Your compliance is unnecessary to me. I merely ask it of you in order to allow this process to go on in a reasonably amicable fashion. If you do not want to follow my instructions, this sharp blade can produce the same effect. I find the removal of eyelids to be a dreadfully tedious task. I'll take your response to be yes and continue.'' At the end of the day this was all foreplay. Once the video came on he would not be able to avert his gaze. I pressed the play button and sat back in my chair. metron Onto the screen flashed a distorted image of a dining room. In the middle of it was a grand mahogany table, all around which were seated three people. The group consisted of a women and two small children; a boy and a girl. When he saw this the man's eyes widened in fear. How could I know who these people were? How could I know of their existence? Who they were is of no relevance to me. It was sufficient that they inspired the reaction that I received. I was told that the man was a loner with no affiliation. It seems the people who told me this were wrong. In the centre of the table was a metronome slowly ticking back and forth. It was going at a rather steady pace. `` Tack, tick, Tack, tick.'' Along with that there was a slow chant just barely audible. `` Tell, him, Tell, him...'' The man's eyes were saucers. I must admit the image was really quite striking. Each of my participants were alternatively striking the table with each word. You could visibly hear his pulse as the pace of the metronome started to quicken. I had really outdone myself on the aesthetic. 'Crack'. The sound of a head kissing mahogany. The woman had stopped here movements. The young children were visibly distressed and started to make their way around the table to her. Shit, this was not supposed to happen. How the fuck was I to know that she had so few words left. God fucking dammit. I should have fucking known. `` PHTHWAK!'' The much louder sound of a man hitting the floor. I spun around to see two lifeless eyes staring back at me. Did he fucking say something? Shit I must have missed it during the commotion of the video. I've got to check the tape, what the fuck did he say. I run out of the door and into my equipment room where the tape is still rolling. Rewind, rewind, rewind, fucking play. The audio comes on and there is the unmistakable sound of the first crack of head meets table. I focus the sound and turn it up. I tiny rasp echo's in my ears as its amplified to gargantuan proportions... `` Soon''.

[ WP ] Moments away from a horrific car accident , you throw your hands in the air and shout `` Jesus take the wheel ! '' You open your eyes to see that you 're fine . Only , that 's not Jesus driving ...

I remember vividly the day that it happened. I was driving through a nasty storm in a dense forest, when suddenly a bright light flashed through my windscreen! I was blinded! I lost control of the steering and knew it was the end, and for some unknown reason I shouted “ Jesus take the wheel! ” I don ’ t know why I said what I said, but maybe it saved me in a way. I survived the crash… If you want to call it that. The car was parked on the side of the road. But, then I noticed I was in the passenger seat. Had I parked the car and moved to the passenger seat? But, I couldn ’ t have. The engine was still running, and I would have remembered! I thought, Maybe I should get some sleep before I DO crash. I turned to the driver ’ s seat to turn the ignition off. But then the true horror revealed its self! The Devil himself was sitting in the driver ’ s seat! After a good solid minute of screaming and trying to get out of the car, he said, “ Will you stop that now!? ” The realisation came to me that I wouldn ’ t be getting out of the car any time soon. So I looked over. He was also looking at me. He had two black horns sticking out of his red head. They were rather sharp. His teeth as yellow as a banana! His dark red hand with sharp purple finger nails where resting on the steering wheel. “ Wha… What… do you want? ” “ I want YOUR services! ” The devil smirked. “ If you accept you can go on your merry way. If you so choose not to… Well let ’ s just say you won ’ t be making it out of this forest tonight. ” Just then an image flew into my mind. It was of a body. My body! It was in a lake, the entrails everywhere! It scared me more than it should have. Now a great way is happening and I have managed to sneak out of the Devils reaches. ***NOTE: *** Not at all based off of the song, which I have only just listened to. *EDIT: * Word

[ WP ] You let go of a balloon with a letter attached to it . A couple of weeks later , you get a letter from the Queen of England .

I watched as the purple balloon soared through the sky. I could only hope the queen would like it. The contents of the letter were trivial. What was really important was the picture in the back. I would love to see the look on the Queen's face when she got to look at it. Not as if she would, though. There was a million to one possibility that the letter would actually arrive at its destination. Days passed by and I forgot about my deed. The menial tasks and routines blended into the normalcy of life in London. After a few weeks, during my usual trip to the mailbox, I found a letter with the Royal seal of Her Majesty. My jaw dropped to the floor and then some. Did my letter actually get to the Head of State? Trembling with excitement I grabbed the letter and ran up to my room. Mother looked at me and sighed. She must've thought `` This kid never stops.''. Little did she know that I was about to read the single, most important piece of writing in my life. I gawked at the envelope. I was a rather simple one, but the majesty of it, knowing where it came from, seeing the Royal Seal stamped on the back of it made one thousand times more shocking. I grabbed dad's letter opener and cut open the envelope. A magnificently folded piece of paper slid out. I unfolded it with a hurry and read: *Dear Andrew: * *I have received your letter and read it thoroughly. My, what a lovely boy you are. I would love the chance to have tea with you sometime over the summer. You seem like a very educated kid. I like that in my nation's youth. * *Please, do make yourself time and stop by the Palace. I will wait. You can bring your mother and father, even brothers and sisters if you have them. * *Just show the guards at the entrance this letter, have them contact me and I will let you and your family in. * *Best Regards, Queen Elizabeth* *PS: I loved the photo, it reminded me of a healthier and younger me. Thank you for that. Almost no one makes me remember those days now. *

[ WP ] You are death row 's last meal chef . Today 's condemned prisoner killed your daughter .

Today was the day. When I heard that my daughter's killer had lost his latest appeal, I had started waiting for this day. At six foot eight the man was powerful. He could have had gainful employment in a number of jobs. I heard the talk from the guards that this man read a book a day. I wonder what his life would have been like if he had applied himself. Instead, one unusually cold day in October, he went up to Katie's car, pulled a gun, and demanded that she get out. Katie had always been a fierce girl, not one to let anybody tell her what to do. I'd taught her that her life is more valuable than any of her possessions, but her attitude got the better of her. And then she was dead. It was n't the crime he was sentenced to death for, but a life of crime always had casualties. One of his just happened to mean something to me. The day of his execution, I waited with baited breath for the request. I'd cooked lobster, pizzas, and apple pies. I'd made the last hour of many men's lives slightly better. I could n't imagine what this man would want. I always prepared the kitchen beforehand for anything I might need to make. Two hours before his execution by lethal injection, I received a piece of paper. I leaned over the counter and opened it up. Grilled Cheese and Fries. I got to work. -- - Twenty minutes later I brought the tray to the killer's cell. I peered in at the large man, sitting on his bunk with his head in his hands. After I tapped on the glass I got a glimpse of his face. He was crying. I opened the slot and slid the tray in. Once he had a hold of it, I let go and turned away. `` I'm sorry.'' I froze, unsure of what to say. The man had killed Katie. He had made life harder for Katie's mother and myself, and he had done it over a shitty'93 Jeep Cherokee. I turned. He stared into my eyes and said it again. `` I'm sorry. I really am.'' I turned and resumed walking away. Just before he was out of earshot, I glanced at him. `` So am I.''

[ WP ] Magic exist . But apparently to cast a spell , you have to beatbox

MC Morlock smiled as he looked out at the shattered remains of the city. `` I am a god among men! All will bow before me or burn in the radiance of my glorious beats!'' His triumphant smile melted when he heard the distant noise of helicopters. `` More resistance? When will they learn?'' `` Bitz ka^whrwhrwhr'' he started to chortle, raising up into the air. Locating his quarry, he directed his beat boxing at them all the while maintaining his levitation beat. `` Bitz ka^whrwhrwhr^veveve ererer worworwor^kra-tizs-kra-tizs'' flames leapt from his hands destroying several of the helicopters. Lines of rope came down from the few remaining helicopters. Robed figures slid down and quickly threw down runed cardboard. They started to dance and spin to his mad and mystical beats. Breakdance wizards! MC Morlock started to fall as his magic was dispelled. He was caught in mid air by the incantations of the whirling wizards. He was later caged in the only material known to stop beat boxing, Cold Iron. And a contingent of break dancing wizards were assigned to watch him at all times.

[ WP ] Upon dying , you , a serial killer , are sentenced to experience the lives of all those that you killed .

As I lay there experiencing the gift, the wonderful release, I had before delivered to so many before me I strangely felt as if I were going somewhere else. Expecting this to be my final reward to meet those whom I had sent before me to prepare my final reward, I was shocked to feel... Fear. A foreign emotion I rarely experienced, but had felt it enough to know what I was being subjected to. I then opened my eyes to see me. I was standing there in the secret place I only knew, the place that would usher so many to the place of rest and reward but for some reason this view was different. I looked down and saw I was kneeling, and for some reason wearing a torn skirt, with chains around my ankles. I looked back up and involuntarily let out a shriek as my beloved sledgehammer came down upon my own skull, and yet I feel nothing, a perfect hit instantly turning the brain into a puddle within the skull. Yet somehow I open my eyes and see myself in the same spot, only wearing different clothes this time, with a gag in my mouth as I, the true I, not the bastardized version of some mongrel only fit to serve myself in the afterlife that I currently find myself in; walk up and, using my left hand, lovingly caress the neck of the body I find myself in. I pull back, knowing what is about to happen but can not stop the muffled scream from coming as the other hand comes forward lightning fast and plunges an ice pick into the eye of the body I currently reside in. It does not kill me as I knew it would n't, this time I wanted to see how a subject would react to a slower death, and I screamed in pain as the pick went into my ocular cavity, breaking into the bone found below the eye. Though it felt like an eternity he, for I was no longer him, removed the pick from my eye and mercifully penetrated my temple, ending my short and pathetic, yet somehow tragically beautiful life. I was not surprised as I became the third victim, and the fourth. Each experiencing unique deaths. No I did not appreciate the way I slew myself as I had when I was only the one preparing the afterlife. This time I thought back to the strange memories I had been suppressing, the hopes and dreams that were not mine. I thought of my widowed mother whose husband had died trying to defuse an IED in Afghanistan, wondering how she could survive losing another she loved. Or to my basset hound at my apartment, hoping one of my friends would come by like they promised they would and notice me missing. When I became the fifth I tried to fight the monster before me. Actually managing to sprain his ankle before he shattered my knee. I had just been accepted into the Police Academy the day I went out drinking and disappeared for 3 months, only to be found by a game warden during deer season. As the sixth I plead for my life despite realizing this was my punishment from God for raping those girls in college. Finally, as the 7th I felt peace. I watched as the FBI SWAT team burst into the shed, serendipitously matching the first burst of blood escaping the arteries in my neck, as the beast before me jerked the hand holding the knife, taking with it my final chance at life, jerked outward from the first stab made into my neck. I laughed as the 5.56mm rounds fired by the Agents entered the depraved monsters' body. But my laughs only came out as choking gasps. I could feel myself bleed out both as this poor soul on the floor, who was watching the team medic desperately try to pinch off his arteries, and as the monster I finally realized I truly was. The only odd thing I felt as I slipped towards whatever hell I surely deserved, was a feeling of elation; knowing society was finally free of me.

[ WP ] You 're the only human left on a world full of supernatural creatures .

Genetics are such a strange thing, such a bizarre coincidence of DNA and traits. Take me for example. I have a very unique genome. Immutable, my doctor calls it. Apparently that means that even when bitten by a vampire, attacked by a werewolf, or even cursed by magic, I remain human. Stubbornly so, in fact. I'm nearly 1400 years old, yet another strange trait of my immutable genome. My cells replicate perfectly, giving me a theoretical immortality and I do n't really get sick. Like I said, genetics are funny. When I was born, I remember being treated as a freak, someone strange and different. My doctors took a lot of blood and tissue samples, and I remember spending a lot of time with needles in me. Then of course, came the Upheaval. It started about fifty years after I was born, and it continued for nearly three centuries. Mankind slowly went extinct, our place taken by the supernatural creatures of legends. No one really knows how it started, but it began in Europe. Vampires and Werewolves emerged and began killing and turning everyone they could find. Then came the Fomor, the Seelie and Unseelie, and all the other Gloaming creatures. By the end, every human had been turned or killed, except one. I was kept as a science experiment by one of the vampire lords, a man named Kristoff, who continually subjected me to new methods of turning me. He was actually pretty chill about the whole thing, going out of his way to make sure that I was n't harmed by his experiments. Kristoff had enemies though, and eventually he was killed, his household liberated. Thinking I was one of his house, I was cast out into the world, the last human left. Finding a job was easy, since the majority of the new species were nocturnal, jobs that needed to be done throughout the day were in high supply. I work as a solar panel tech, keeping a massive farm of panels working for the Unseelie Court. They could handle the day, but they preferred the night, and they hated iron and steel, meaning it was difficult for them to manage their solar farms. Enter me, their werewolf tech. I'm not really a werewolf, but it means I get a three day paid vacation every month at the full moon, a vacation I use to go fishing. The Unseelie are actually pretty great bosses, definitely misrepresented in human literature. They have a ton of rules, and they apply to workers, meaning I get paid excellently and I have a great benefits package. My doctor, working with patient confidentiality, knows I am human, and helps me manage. He files reports saying I'm a werewolf and he's been super helpful getting me meals that are balanced, sneaking me supplements to assist my meat-filled diet. Basically, he's my rock. Fortunately for me, he's a Elder Fae, and is more immortal than I am, so I do n't have to worry about a new doctor every hundred years or so. He's been fascinated by my genome, just like Kristoff was, and I do my best to make sure he has lots of samples. I figure keeping him happy is the least I can do. As the world's oldest and only human, I keep my head down and watch as the world changes. When the Upheaval first happened, the technology level dropped significantly, until the supernatural creatures began to understand humanity's technology. Now, my Fae doctor takes MRIs, uses 3D Holo Matrices to plot my genome, and does scans using long wave light scans. Not only did the supernatural creatures understand our technology, they also resumed our expansion. Now, nearly 1400 years later, the Earth is a utopia, each race well-represented and well-treated. As a human born in the the late 1900s, I wake up every day fascinated by how the world has changed. Floating cities, space travel, and even flying cars, have now become the norm. All in all then, this world's not so bad. I make a good living, I have lots of friends, and I recently started seeing an Unseelie Fae, a girl named Mashian, who's even older than I am. I've even been thinking of sharing my secret with her, so hopefully she's okay dating a human. Anyway, that's life in 1358 A.U. It's different that I expected when I was a kid, but it's not bad. Not bad at all.

[ WP ] in 50 years , retirement homes become LAN parties .

Safirameal chuckeld to himself. Finally someone had fallen for his act! Tobias-14 was as gullible and naive as a demon could wish for. Tobias-14: And it wo n't hurt? For real? Safi-boy: Of course not. And if it does, we can stop anytime you want. Tobias-14: I've never done it before... Safi-boy: But lots of cool boys your age have. They just do n't talk about it. Ever. Do n't you want to be cool? Tobias-14: I am cool. Fine. let's do it. Safirameal could n't believe his luck. A children's soul and body! Without any constraints on the possession! Insane! Safi-boy: Just put your hands on the screen and relax. Let me inside. He stretched, reaching across dimensions to the computer screen in front of a little boy. Contact. With an almost orgiastic shiver Safirameal stretched into the boy, filling the body, connecting to the sou... connecting to the s... connecting... Blank. Nothingness. Safirameal screamed into the blackness as he fell and fell and fell... Nothing. No evil. No good. In his room Tobias opened the now black eyes. `` Aah.'' his voice reverberated and growled with strange echoes and feedbacks. His eyes strayed to Mr.Meowzer. The corpse lay rotting in a corner. Tobias had wanted to know what was inside the feline body. Now the demon inside him felt glee at the side and so felt Tobias. He smiled `` So this is how it feels to feel'' He turned to his window. Lots of world out there. So much to do...

[ CW ] The two greatest swordsmen in the world cross blades . The duel ends in a single move . Write at least 500 words describing the duel .

The armored knight raised his broad sword above his head, his equally broad shoulders squared on his target. His right hand clenched like a vice grip on the hilt with his left holding with slightly less force. He understood that this judgment must be the first and last blow, lest he be butchered by his opponent's swift blades. `` This will be your only warning traitor! To your knees or I will strike you down so further below this mud that you may never rise again!'' The sound of his heart beat drained out the rain, worried his words would tremble he had squeezed the hilt even tighter. `` Your hubris will be your end Edward. No matter your strength or your armor you will never strike me nor will the edge of my steel fail to taste your blood!'' Leather was all that covered this soldier's body, weighing him down slightly as it held the rain. His long black hair matted against his face, concealing all the shared traits of the two swordsmen but their sapphire eyes. Once brothers in arms, these two were far passed reconciliation. Charles was irredeemable in his twin's eyes, his twin short swords had consumed their father's blood. Edward having given up his royal title, swore an oath to guard the King with his life. He had believed he was the better swordsman, and for that he should protect his brothers. It would allow Charles to take the kingdom, and while they may have shared the same eyes, Charles did not share the same sentiments. Edward's oath kept him beside their father at all times. Even during the war, when the kingdom's two greatest swordsmen were expected to lead the fight. The upcoming battle would have their brethren face an army of over ten thousand slaves. Themselves only half the size, Charles knew that alone he would perish much like his fellow soldiers. Without his brother at his side, Charles' skill in attack would remain uncomplemented and open to retaliation. Charles would become a prize target, with only a small shield in Ethan. Charles is death would leave Edward's oath null, returning his rights as heir. Before any of this Charles had already shown his dissent. Their father was mad with rage at the foreign army's refusal. The foreign army had shown no desire to take their kingdom, but required passage through their lands to reach the far west. The King, having heard of their coming, sent a minor brigade to refuse them passage without toll and fealty to the King's right of dominion. The foreign army slaughtered the brigade, having interpreted the group of knights as a threat. They would send their own messengers to the King, carrying the heads of his knights. The foreign army would not acknowledge the King, but granted him mercy. They would pass through without disruption, as long as the messengers returned to them by the following nightfall. If they did not return, the foreign army was prepared to annihilate the King and his people. Edward kept his opinions to himself, while Charles expressed distaste in his father's choice to send the brigade in the first place. He warned his father that it would only end in trouble, and to allow the foreign army passage without interruption. Aware of the foreign army's capabilities, as heard through the various rumors, Charles knew lives would be saved if they avoided a confrontation. Nevertheless, the King's arrogance would not allow the foreign army to waltz through his domain without a showing of subservience. Their father was mad, ignorant, and cared naught for the people in these final years. When their father called for the messengers heads Charles protested while Edward quietly observed. The messengers did not plead for their lives, but merely said, `` The Prince is wise. His actions will save the lives of your people. Yours would erase your existence from history. No *true* King fails to grace the pages of history.'' Moments later the King would have Ethan take their heads and add them to the pile they brought. Soon thereafter, Edward took his oath and relinquished his title without any consultation. Charles could not fathom his actions. The King had planned to send nearly their entire army to their deaths, including his sons, and his brother would abandon him like a coward. Charles' disgust with Edward would soon turn to hatred. Whispers claimed that Edward had sent the lieutenant from his personal guard to the foreigners. He would carry an offer of fealty to the foreign Emperor, once they had massacred his brothers and remaining soldiers, in return for sparing the remaining Kingdom under his own name. The whispers came from the torture of Edward's lieutenant, after Ethan captured him while the kingdom's army made their way towards the foreign army. Charles, having learned of this betrayal, would leave Ethan in charge and return to court. `` Father's madness infects Edward's blood,'' Charles believed. `` I can not allow this to carry on any further,'' he resolved. Charles would seek to have his father relinquish the crown and thus allow him to attempt peace with the foreign Emperor. Upon returning to the throne Charles was met by his father, seated and drowning himself with wine, with his brother at his side broad sword in hand planted downward into the marble dais. `` You send your people to death! Your sons to their graves, while you feed your madness with wine!?'' Charles refused to hold his tongue any longer, the court quieted and the air was suddenly thick with tension. The King looked crookedly at his enraged offspring. Charles continued, `` And you! You conspire against me!? If you wished for the throne all you need was ask! We could have spared innocent lives if you simply spoke with me! We could have avoided needless bloodshed if you could overcome your cowardice!'' His anger with his brother was beyond that with his father, but his bond with his twin was of a different magnitude. Edward remained quiet, tightening his grip on the hilt of his broad sword, his armor shifting slightly. `` You, you dare...'' the King began but paused. ``... You are a seed not worthy of my words, but I am a merciful King... However I will not poison the hearts of the people with our discourse. Empty the court! I will have words with my son that no one need witness.'' Momentarily Charles' tension left him, believing he had a chance to break through to his father while the court emptied. The King looked to Edward, `` you as well my boy, I have no desire to embarrass your brother any further.'' Edward protested, but the King's sapphire eyes turned cold on him, and he made his way out. Once the court was empty, Charles took a few steps towards the throne, `` Father.. I'm sorry for my anger but --'' `` Sorry!? How dare you speak before me! How dare you call me'Father'! I am your King child! You will refer to me as such and nothing else!'' The King stood, looking down towards his son, incensed with hatred. Charles made another attempt, ``... Your highness, I plead tha --'' `` You PLEAD!? I did not empty this court for you to plead! Silence your tongue before I rip your throat from its godforsaken shell!'' Charles' anger began to boil once again, realizing his father was beyond reason. He remained silent. `` You are a son of mine no longer. Your rights are removed, and with Edward's oath Ethan will be well protected. You will return to the vanguard and give your life for your King! If your bones do not come back in pieces I will break them MYSELF before EVER laying my dirt atop you!'' The King was far gone. There was no repair for this sort, Charles knew.

[ WP ] A werewolf and a vampire have to survive together in the middle of the zombie apocalypse

It was n't supposed to end like this. For years, werewolves and vampires attacked each other for dominance. We each wanted to make sure the other would n't hunt humans down to extinction, extinguishing our food source and damning both species. Then, we realized it was foolish to waste our time and energy fighting over a resource that was expanding by leaps and bounds. Neither vampire nor werewolf grew to a large extent as a community. The process to bare new members was stressful and did n't always achieve success. Humans, on the other hand, needed no prodding or help to procreate, producing members constantly. That was when it was decided that vampires and werewolves could coexist with little issue. We were immortals who could run our little worlds with resources that we had accrued over centuries. It made life good. It made us weak. Zombies had been around as long as werewolves and vampires. The walking carrion were of no consequence to us, a runt species that was easily ignored. Early humans dealt with them easily enough that numbers were inconsequential. We'd even thought that they were extinct for the last two centuries. Life became easier for humans. Their numbers swelled to seven billion. Seven billion plump cattle, comfortable to the point of ignorance. Our numbers were so manageable and their lives so disposable, it was a veritable paradise. We became idle. The zombies, whom we thought were distant memories, took advantage of the same population boom and oblivious society that we were also guilty of. They started to spring up in population centers. We thought that the humans would take care of the issue themselves, they had made who knows how many movies about them, how could they not figure out how to put down the issue? They failed, just as we did. We were more than capable of snuffing it out early on. Our hubris was another contributing factor to our downfall. Now, humanity is gone, the buffet is closed. I sit here in this bunker with a singular werewolf. She is weak. She has not fed in weeks. Many of her kin have destroyed themselves, much like mine did, rather than face starvation. I could have done the same. I wish I had done the same, much like my rigor companion probably wishes. Now, religions touted eternal life as a glorious reward. Our two species have found a way to make it into a damnable punishment. Edit: Spacing

[ WP ] Human blood gives a pleasurable high to many alien species . This leads to a creation of a galactic black market .

We humans were always interested in finding alien life among the stars. Maybe it was out of curiosity, to see what else laid before us among the stars. Maybe it was out of a fear of being alone in the universe. What ever it was, what ever purpose we had for searching, had led us to this. This was the fate of humanity. I think it is 9:00, 9:30? Who knows what time it currently is, let alone whether it was dusk or dawn. Every time I wake up, I hope that what happened was just a really, really messed up dream, and every time it is the same as the day before. Still shackled to this metal plate, while they pump the blood from my veins to fuel their addictions. Fortunately, I am O+. That means that they do n't just squeeze me dry and discard my corpse like some sort of twisted version of a capri-sun. But instead, they just take a couple of liters at a time, allowing me to enjoy my misery until I `` expire'' like a carton of milk. Maybe it is because of the rarity of my blood. That's probably why. They do n't just keep humans alive for this long for no reason. All I know is that my blood is the most potent, the most expensive, the most enjoyable and the most precious blood type in the known galaxy. Sure, it is illegal for them to do this but this place just falls short of the federation's border. That means any human here is fair game. Or maybe this place is within the border, yet again, lets not get any hopes up. The chances of being rescued is minimal. I try to move into a more comfortable position, yet all this does is cause a sharp pain to ripple through my ribs, signifying that I have triggered the pumps to start doing their job. As my vision starts to clear, I am greeted with the familiar sight of various clear tubes, filled with blood, running out of my abdomen and off to a large pipeline where our blood is sent off to God knows where. Every time I wake up, I do n't say every day as there is no way of telling the time in this place, I turn my head to the left and right to see how my fellow `` cattle'' are doing. And every time I am greeted to the same sight. Columns of people hooked up to this infernal machine, sucking them dry with every passing second. Millions of them, if not thousands, in eternal pain. But something was off. Not as many people where dying and being released into the depths of the facility to be disposed of. Instead, it seemed like the pump was slowing down, as the shooting pain had dulled. The usually high pitched whir of the pump had changed to slow hum. Then a loud crackling came over the loud speaker. `` Attention,'' stated a commanding voice. It seemed to be coming from every where as there was no source which I could tell the voice was coming from. `` This is Sergeant Umanda of The Federation.'' `` This facility is in violation of the `` Extraction Amendment of the Homosapien Species'' and has condemned this facility to destruction. Those who are operating this facility will be incinerated. Anyone who is still alive to hear this, do n't worry. Your suffering will soon come to an end.'' Typical Federation. Even they treat us like anima-

[ WP ] You 're challenging Adam for Eve 's hand .

Adam and I had a difficult marriage. He desired a demure, obedient little wife. As if. I left his naked ass so fast. So, naturally God - who's also a man, mind you - declared the marriage null and void. He started again, creating the most beautiful creature I've ever beheld, notwithstanding the fact she came from that narcissistic ass's rib. Long red tresses like fire incarnate. Brilliant emerald eyes like deep green pools, pulling me into their abyss. Lovely as the eve she was named for. Too bad she desired to be a dutiful wife. Giving Adam bratty sons, doing as he asked day in and day out. I watched from outside that overrated Garden. Until one day, as luck would have it, she ventured away. That natural curiosity had a way of getting the best of her. I pushed my raven hair behind my ear and stepped out from my place of observation to introduce myself. Naturally she was shocked, having been told it was just herself, Adam, and those ridiculous sons. Overcoming that shock, however, curiosity once more took hold of her. We became fast friends. Every day she would come to see me. Shy at first, the words soon began to cascade from her tongue into my pool of understanding. We became nearly inseparable, and because of this Adam grew suspicious and one day followed her. `` You!'' he gasped upon seeing me, eyes nearly popping from his head, a vein on his temple fit to burst. `` Me,'' I agreed with a smile pulling at my lips. `` This, this can not stand! Come, Eve. At once.'' He demanded. `` And if I challenge you for her hand, Adam?'' I asked, my voice still calm and assured. Adam laughed. `` What? Impossible. It's Adam and Eve, not Eve and Lilith. Do n't be crass.'' Casting a sidelong glance at Eve, I replied, `` I mean it. If you can solve my riddle... I'll stay away. If not, well, Eve gets to choose.'' Gulping past the thyroid cartilage in his neck that made it look like he'd swallowed a forbidden apple, he slowly assented with a nod. Ever the self-assured posturer, that one. `` What is harder to catch the faster you run?'' I asked. Not even a hard one. `` Uh, a snake. Obviously.'' He said, holding out his hand to Eve. `` Come along,'' he said smugly. `` Your breath, is the answer,'' I replied, looking to Eve. With no hesitation, she moved and took my hand. Adam paled and looked near to fainting, but he knew he had lost. Eve and I have been together since, living in our own little garden of bliss. I've been labeled a demon, of course, but it's a small price to pay to have that fair creature in my arms. Does n't hurt Adam has turned into an unshaven, self-loathing slob who blames snakes for his misfortunes.

[ WP ] You are the last remaining fire mage of what was once a great guild . Your powers are ... less than impressive . You 're trying to convince someone with potential to join the guild and learn your ways .

Huo Pao was old and scrawny. He was hardly the right person to appeal to incoming freshmen at the university. The students were sent by their wealthy parents, and some even had advanced tutoring to summon up cantrips. Of course, every guy wanted to learn fire and lightning, but he was loathe to take them on; they would most likely become tyrants that would need heroes to stamp out. Likewise, they did n't want him. No, they wanted to be taught by loud and proud artillery battlemage, who could conjure great firestorms through excessive channeling of their powers. A pox on them anyway, Huo Pao thought. He was about to exit the hall when he saw a boy. Average height, but unusually fit. Shabby clothes. Very nervous, judging by the jackrabbiting of his right foot. Yet, a nervous person would look around around, trying to both meet a gaze and avert theirs at the same time. This boy was looking at everyone's magic. `` What do you see, boy?'' The boy jumped in his seat, startled at the low voice. `` Wh-what?'' `` I see you looking at their hands. Tell me what you see.'' `` Well... that guy over there, he weaves his magic like a pen. But I saw him doing the same thing earlier today. He only knows that one move, but he's good at it.'' `` And... what about that girl over there?'' `` I think she already knows some charm magic. There are a ton of guys looking at her, but that did n't happen until she was halfway through the room. You ask me, she's kinda dumpy.'' `` So what are you so nervous about? Seems you can already read their magic.'' `` But... just because I can read it does n't mean I can write it. I'm just a farmboy who almost burned down the barn over a little scuffle with my pa. Kinda went off like a dragon, but I do n't know how to do it again.'' Huo Pao stroked his chin. Farmboy was certainly different... and while many farmers had an affinity for earth or water, this boy had fire in his gut. Although many magi may eschew fitness, strong heart and lungs were key to efficient fire evocation, especially if you wanted to skip casting steps. `` You do realize they've been at this for months, right? Do n't compare yourself to them yet.'' He realized he forgot something. `` What's your name?'' `` My name? Uh... Siyo, sir.'' `` Walk up to that instructor over there. Tell him Huo Pao is going to win the bet, then blow your dragon breath on his boots.'' `` But I do n't --'' `` I know, you could n't do it again... until now.'' Huo Pao poked him in the solar plexus. `` Heave, but not from your throat. Do it from down here, and project like you want the biggest echo in the valley. Got it?'' With a nod, the boy got up. After halfway towards the instructor, he looked back... but his strange trainer was gone. -- -- - A couple days layer, Huo Pao broke the wax seal and opened the parchment. On there was a guild application for one Siyo Son, as well as a sticky note: `` You owe me new boots.'' Huo Pao smiled. The Firebending guild was back in action.

[ WP ] You 're a Vegan who just got turned by a 1,000 year old Vampire ...

`` Well, what about... eggs?'' You suggested with a wince. You were still as averse to the idea of eating them as you had been just this morning, but your... circumstances... had changed quite a bit since then. And, well. After having every suggestion of vegetable protein denied -- including soybeans, which you *hated* -- you were getting desperate. Desperate, and very, very *thirsty. * `` I mean, egg albumin is nearly chemically identical to --'' An exasperated sigh bit through your monologue, bringing about its' premature end. `` Look. Okay. *Listen* to me,'' Erzabet pinched the bridge of her nose with spidery fingers, her faint Eastern European accent thickening in tandem with her frustration. `` How many ways do you want to hear it from me?'' She plead. `` The actual, *content*, of what we must consume, is only part of the equation.'' She spread her hands wide, palms up. `` Else why would we bother, with all these modern conveniences -- when we could simply stock a fridge with donated blood -- why still would we go to the hassle of direct feeding?'' You shrugged weakly. `` Fresh... tastes... better?'' Well, it was true for produce. Unfortunately, you imagined sourcing local O-Positive was a lot more difficult than organic kale. The ancient, supernatural, otherworldly woman -- currently slouched beside you in a pair of your old sweats and an oversized Spinal Tap T-shirt -- grinned ferally, her just-a-bit-too-sharp teeth barely pressing against her lips. `` Oh, do n't get me wrong -- fresh tastes much, *much* better,'' she rumbled, and, fuck, you could feel your body reacting to that in a way that had *gotten you into this mess in the first place, keep your pants on damn it*. Then she sighed, expression shifting from seductive to tired so quickly you wondered if you had n't just imagined it. Shit, did vampires actually have some sort of hypnosis? `` But no. You see, while we *do* need the actual substance of the blood to replenish our bodies,'' she began, running her fingers over her cheek, newly flushed with stolen blood -- *your* blood, `` it is the actual *act* of taking liquid life from another being that refreshes the magic of our existence: the spell that maintains our immortal forms,'' she explained. You stared at her. `` Uh. Magic?'' She merely raised a single eyebrow to your incredulous expression, and, okay, yeah, you deserved that. You had pretty clearly wandered past science fiction some time ago and had wound up in that embarrassing part of the bookstore that was halfway between bodice-ripper and YA Fantasy. `` Right. Magic.'' You paused. Something had just occurred to you. `` So how does the sex factor in?'' You blurted. She snickered. `` Was that not also'magic'?'' she asked. You rolled your eyes, but could n't help the embarrassed flush you felt crawling up your neck. You wondered how long you'd be able to blush, now, before you needed to... refill the tank, so to speak. As if sensing your shift in mood, Erzabet also sobered a little. `` It is... an exchange,'' she said softly. `` Another type of life-ritual. We take the blood, the life-force, to sustain ourselves, and in return, we offer sex, pleasure. Sex is an act of creation, potential life, and rejuvenation of the soul: so when one is traded for the other, neither loses, yet both gain.'' TBC...?

[ WP ] God created thousands of worlds in thousands of galaxies . A major crisis in another galaxy has taken his entire focus , and for the first time in 750 years , he just glanced in our direction .

It had been called the silent planet once but now, most days, it screamed. Not literally of course but stand above a chorus of a billion souls and the noise is more than enough to drown out most anything. It makes for a very noisy and sleepless occupation, one that I am *soooo* honored to have in case any of the higher ups are listening to this. Earth 1, the prime creation. The first and by far the worst that my father ever created. I never quite understood how a race or people so similar in *every* way could find so many different reasons to hate each other so. I never understood how you could so easily diverge into a million different religions when the truth was spoonfed to you by the King of Kings himself. I never understood how you could pour so much of your resources into finding new ways to kill each other. But I did understand why you were truly his children. You see his sight is endless but his attention is not. He's ever so obsessed with recreating the Magnum Opus that was Earth, so much so that he created nearly endless different instances of earth's just like your own. He never quite got the formula exactly right another time. So naturally when he left his pursuit of recreation on the back burner of his endless might be turned his attention to you once more. My outpost is a coveted one, its the most important of all in fact. He trusted it to me, his second son, Michael. And though my post is considered to be an immense honor in the armies of Heaven, its reputation did no proceed it. I have watched over the endless carnage that is your society for millennia, and I expected my father to smite you the instant he turned his titanic attention towards you once more. However, almost as if to show me how little I truly understand him, he looked upon your earth and smiled. I never asked why but I think I worked it out. It's your spirit that he loves. That he chases after. It is one of creation. It is one of endless love. It is one of endless malice. It is one of endless kindness. It is one of endless hate. It is one of power. It is one of weakness. It is one that is all things. It is his. The perfect mirror of the perfect being. Forever beyond his reach, to touch it is to destroy it. To gaze upon it is to know the sorrow of the creator. It is why he seeks to recreate it. It is his perfection incarnate. After all you were made in his image. So when he turned his attention to you once more after all these millennia, all he did was look upon you. His face that is not a face held immense sadness. All he did was look and for an instant I saw in you what he does. I saw him. So I turned my eyes to the silent planet once more and the sounds that escaped it were no longer screams, but rather calls of joy. As if you knew your perfection, as if you knew just what it is that you were the perfect emulation of. I took to my post once more and I looked not upon the mewling faces of the savages but upon the visage of God himself.

[ WP ] Your door bell rings . It 's a person from an alternate universe , who says , `` I just want you to know that you are my favorite book character and I know how it ends and I want to help change it ''

I kicked off my gym shoes as I walked into my apartment. My entire body ached from the day. What time was it? Late enough to be pitch black outside. God, I could use a whole body massage right now. I fell into the couch and stretched out, feeling each muscle tense up, from my torso to my calves, and then relax. I breathed out audibly. Today ’ s training had been the toughest yet - a relentless cycle of pounding the punching bag, hours in the ring, and shooting drills. Mark, my trainer, had been more determined than ever to train, but I had also sensed his underlying, quiet distress throughout the day. The doorbell rang suddenly, startling me. I got up quietly from the couch and peered through the peephole. There was a woman standing there, with long red hair and thick framed glasses, looking down the hallway. She looked vaguely familiar somehow, but I couldn ’ t place her. I opened the door tentatively. The woman stood in the doorframe staring at me for a long moment, a knot on her forehead, frowning slightly. “ Alexa? Is that really you? Alexa Goodman? ” she had an untraceable accent. “ That ’ s my name. Can I help you with something? ” The woman ’ s face brightened, her expression now ecstatic. “ Wow, I can ’ t believe it! I mean, I can not believe I ’ m really seeing you in the flesh! You look just how I imagined, though maybe a little shorter than I would have thought… ” The woman took a step closer, head cocked, as if inspecting me. “ I ’ m sorry - am I missing something? Do I know you? ” The woman laughed. “ I ’ m Rachel. Do you mind if I come inside? This is might take a while. ” Rachel ’ s hands were clasped together against her chest, practically shaking. Who the hell was this woman? A sociopath? Or worse, a salesperson? I would normally have shooed a stranger like her away, but curiosity got the better of me - how did she know me? Why was she so oddly familiar? “ Okay, come on in. Make yourself comfortable. ” I laid myself on the couch. The woman trailed quietly behind me and sat uncomfortably close to me. Letting her in was probably a mistake. “ So… how exactly do you know me? Are you a long lost relative or something? ” “ Well, not exactly, ” Rachel smiled uneasily. “ How do I say this without freaking you out? ” “ You ’ ve done a pretty good job freaking me out already, I ’ m sure I can handle whatever you have to say. ” “ Alexa, I just want you to know that you are my favorite book character, and I know how it ends and I want to help change it. ” Her words ran out quickly, like a river. I paused for a moment, confused. “ Come again? ” “ You ’ re one of the main characters in the Manhunt series. You have a mission tomorrow. ” “ I do? ” “ Yes! But it ’ s a suicide mission, ” Rachel ’ s eyes opened wide. “ You can ’ t go! I mean, I can ’ t believe that he would kill you off, you are by far the most well developed character… So. ” Rachel looked directly in my eyes. “ You can ’ t go. ” Silence filled the room. I didn ’ t want to believe her, but the idea that I was a character, a pawn in someone ’ s fucked up story, was beginning to make a lot of sense to me. All of the coincidences that happened in my life that were too good to be true, the times when something external deep within me changed my motives last minute, all of the strangely predictable twists of fate - they all were contrived, created. And I was going to be killed off, just for the sake of a plotline. Rachel ’ s voice interrupted my thoughts. “ Here ’ s my proposition to you. I can rewrite your story, with you as the protagonist, the heroine. I ’ ve got all the details here in a contract… all you have to do is sign. ” Rachel pulled a large piece of parchment out of nowhere. “ Do you have a pen? ” she asked. “ Yes, in my bedroom. Let me go get it. ” I bought myself some time, a moment for myself. I walked into my bedroom, shut the door, and paced. My mind was racing. All at once, the solution became clear. I grabbed the shotgun I kept in my bedside drawer and walked out to Rachel, barrel pointed at her face. “ I don ’ t need anyone to write my story, bitch. ”

[ WP ] A sequence of events during the past weeks turned you from a simple person to a murderous savage . Tell us your story but make us sympathize with you

Everyone has experience a `` last straw'' moment. This kid at work was the worst. I'm 23, he's 26, he acts like he's an immature 11-year-old. We started out friendly. I would laugh at his jokes, I would humor him when he wanted to show me a youtube video. Then he started to try to show me porn at work, he started to boss me around even as it became evident I was already a better worker than he was. He bumped me when I was holding a knife a few times, I got small cuts. I complained to management and they did nothing. I was starting to realize the type of place I worked for. He starts spraying me with the hose at night when we are cleaning up. After we close he follows me to my car and I have a hard time getting him to leave me alone so I can head home. Days later he starts following me part of the way home. I was getting paranoid. I asked for a few days off from work, I could n't sleep at night, I was so angry at this guy, I wanted him to disappear off the face of the earth so badly. I came back to work and there he was, joking around, blasting his anime music all shift long, doing it in front of the customers. Nobody would miss this guy if he was gone. Then I hatched my plan. Next time he followed me home I would turn off my lights and sneak off and stop. Then I would wait for him to pass me, and slowly follow him from a distance for a while. As he passed the hill right by the electrical plant I rammed him off the road right into the worst of it, sparks flew, I did n't see any movement and I drove off. I heard an explosion soon after and I felt no remorse. When I got home I changed the tread on my tires and burned the old ones until there was nothing left. In the news I read a story about a young man who tends to drink during his shifts at work and crashed into the electric plant by the hill. Evidence of alcohol containers were found in his car. I started to like the feeling of having this guy out of my life for good. I liked knowing I ended him. Soon after our store closed ( it was the crappiest store around ), I decided to enlist.

[ WP ] The reason earth never made alien contact is because earth is in a natural reservation inside a non transit area inside a neutral zone between two warring empires in a relatively boring part of the galaxy .

`` Now we head over to the war-torn sector Y-5 solar system, where two moons of the neutral Narjinn planet were obliterated by a series of Jukoo projectiles, said to have been blown off course by solar wind. Tragedy in-'' *click-* `` -and you're going to take the tail and wrap it three fold around the rest of the body. Now here's the step everyone misses. Come in a little closer, because this is important. Look here. Everyone's afraid to use these quills in the recipe. Nonsense-'' *click-* `` This is earth. One of the most well reserved planets in the galaxy. This is mostly due to a lack of societal advancement. The humans, earth's most advanced species, have at least acquired some forms of tier one technology. But it is a far cry from even the impoverished sector RR-4. Ah, here is a very curious subgroup of the human species, the northern american. It walks along the designated'concrete': a primitive form of infrastructure, composed mainly of water and sand. The human navigates as best he can, narrowly avoiding other humans and occasionally bumping in to one, not unlike the flightless one-eyed Yipps on planet Voranus. It enters a structure through glass panels and engages with another human at an arrangement of wood and marble. A transaction is made. A few rectangular cloths are traded for a container of liquid. This is a hot substance and of very low sustenance. It is still widely debated why the humans consume such a liquid. Some of the liquid spills out as the human nearly trips over an obstruction. Humans are known to have below average motor functions, however, this one seems particularly clumsy. It sets itself down at a wooden arrangement along with its steaming liquid and its tier one electronic device. It begins working the device with eight of its ten digits. Ah, it begins typing, which is electronic writing. This is its redeeming quality. It is the closest humans have come to the standard cognition level of the rest of the galaxy. They, obviously, still are a long ways off. As you can see, it has paused. It's stuck, frozen in place, thinking... thinking-'' *click- Yawn. *

[ WP ] The world population clock finally stopped fluctuating . Now it 's just dropping .

People love the idea of an apocalypse, whether it's zombies, aliens, a virus, or something supernatural. The real thing is much more terrifying. Nobody knows why the numbers started dropping. It was n't noticeable at first, there were 9.6 billion people in the year 2051 after all. However, once people started dropping like flies, the world wide database started to pick up a trend. One the numbers started dropping, everyone was given a wristband that connects to them intravenously. It monitors their heartbeat, can show GPS location, and can be scanned for identification purposes. Once it stops detecting a pulse, Once the population began to rapidly decrease, the live number became public domain and was released on the internet. I checked it every day on my smartwatch. We never did figure out the cause of death, just that they died. My name is Adam. My wife and I, Evelyn, are the only humans left on Earth. We felt alone well before I watched the population count on my watch hit two. The other survivors were miles away, probably in different countries. However, seeing that number was like a pin being dropped. We were the only ones left. Delirium set in next. Can you imagine the pain of losing everyone you've ever known? At least the dead do n't have the means to realise everything is gone, they know peace. However, the will to survive, that primal instinct to exist, is strong. We never came to accept it, but we learned to live with it. Eighteen months passed. I still checked the population on my watch several times a day out of some sense of hope. It always remained at two. We figured out a simple way of living, even if continuing to live felt pointless. I wished I knew why we were chosen, why we were left to wander the earth as living ghosts whilst everybody else moved on. Was it a rapture? No, surely we could n't be the only people unworthy of Heaven - and it would be narcissistic to suggest we were the only people worthy of it. One night, I heard Evelyn sobbing during the night. Alarmed, I awoke and rolled over to face her. Her words pierced the darkness and stopped the breath in my throat. `` I'm pregnant.'' We stayed up all night, not sure how to feel. A couple of years ago I would have been overcome with joy to hear I was going to become a father. All I felt was dread and uncertainty. How could I bring a child up in a world like this? How could I protect my baby from becoming sick? All the doctors died, basic medical aid was as far as I could stretch. What if there were complications with the birth? Despite my own doubts, I had to be strong for Evelyn. I had to be our rock. One day, almost nine months later, I was forced to confront my fears. I tried my best to console Evelyn, she was in agony for eight hours. By the time her labour was through, I had looked into my daughter's eyes for the first time. She was here. Unfortunately, bringing her into this world had cost Eveyln everything. She gave her own life so that our baby could live. I could not bear to see the number'one' staring at me from my watch screen. Struggling to see through tears, I removed Evelyn's wristband and attached it to my daughter. I checked my watch. It had gone back to displaying the number two. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Before she died, Evelyn had named our daughter Morana. I tried my best not to blame her for her Mother's death, but sometimes it was hard. I'd look into her eyes and see Evelyn. I'd see a stolen life. I wanted to love her so badly, but I could not see past my resentment, even though I knew deep down it was not her fault. The thing is with no one being around on Earth is that you can just walk into places and take what you want. I took to drinking bottles of whisky from the abandoned supermarkets. Some days I would drink so much I'd wake up with no recollection of the night before, not even remembering if I'd fed Morana, or put her to bed. One particular day I woke up with a nasty hangover. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and felt something wet smear across my cheek. I stared at my hands in shock... they were caked in red. I looked at the number on my watch and the grim reality slapped me in the face. *One. *

[ WP ] She 's afraid of nothing and she carries a knife .

The men laughed as the little girl emerged from behind the city gates. `` THIS IS MY HOME!'' She yelled. `` WE ARE GOD'S PEOPLE! TURN BACK NOW AND LIVE; OR CONTINUE ON, AND DIE!'' The small army found this hilarious. `` And what are you going to do, eh little girl? Why do n't you call your Daddy and let him handle grown-men's business?'' `` I did,'' she replied, drawing her knife. `` I called on my Father in Heaven. And He will grant me victory on this day, if you do not turn around and go back to from whence you came.'' One man grabbed a sword and stepped forward, roaring, `` Enough of this! This little girl taunts us!'' He approached her, but she approached him even more swiftly, and slew him with the knife. Three more men approached and were too slain. City watchers saw this from the gate, and the little girl's fearless display excited them to call all the soldiers. And then the city opened up, and all the soldiers within, swept out and chased the small army back along the trail and slain them all along the route. Not a man survived. The girl fell to her knees in the sand, and prayed, `` Thank you, Father.''

[ WP ] Satan , Lucifer , Beelzebub , Abbadon , Belial , and Leviathan battle each other for the right to claim the Throne and name themself The Devil .

Now deep down in hell, where the sinners stood Somethin' bad was brewin', it was nothin' good The demon lords were squabblin', down to a man About who'd rule them all, and be the one in command! Satan started roarin', with his eyes ablaze ``'T is I who ruled the underworld, for all of my days! You other sinners better bow,'cause you ca n't compare: I'm the biggest, baddest demon lord! And *I've* got the most flair!'' But Lucifer, he would n't take this insult sittin' down He stood right up and paced about his face in a frown `` You might have ruled till now, with your iron fist But it was ME who started up this whole affair, you get my gist? I'm the first to sin, the giant on which you stand: If anything it should be YOU beneath MY command!'' Then Beelzebub, now, he would n't settle for this He flew into the air on the foulest of mists `` Now you two have the royal claim, that much I know true But I have one question to pose! a quandary for you!' Our final goal is Heaven, would n't we all agree? But since *I* rule the skies, you ca n't do it without me!'' Then Abbadon stood, rising up in a flash The beneath his feet began to shake, and teeth did gnash! `` Listen here, you mothers son's,'t is *I* who should rule! If any think your better, then you're naught but a fool! 'T is *I* who rules the Earth, and brings on the end of all days So all you better kneel or else get out of my way!'' But Belial was never one to be left out He called upon the fire in the earth to spout `` If ANYONE is fit to rule, it ought to be me! If it were n't for my flames, where would all of YOU be?'' Leviathan leapt to her feet, freezing the stone `` You all better step back, I'll freeze you all to the bone 'T is I who rules the seas, and bring the frost as well None of you could rule like me, a snowball in hell!'' And so they fought, their petty squabble over a pit But way up there in heaven, God is laughing a fit! Together, they would all be one hell of a threat But so long as they keep fighting, well, they're all wet! Pride's a dreadful sin, and Heaven does agree It is better off for everyone to leave them be! *** *Tried for a bit of a jazzy theme this time. If you enjoyed, check out more of my work over at /r/TimeSyncs! *

[ WP ] A person wakes up one day and realises that they 're missing a body part .

It ’ s only a few seconds before I remember, but once I notice, that ’ s all I can think about. Before I lost my arm, I didn ’ t realise that a distraction can be unbearable. Just trying to complete thought processes is a challenge. Today I have a meeting with Lee and ( where is my arm? Oh, that ’ s right. I remember ) so I ’ ll need to finish off the report before ( where is my arm? I lost it. Okay ) eleven, and then I ’ ll have to figure out if I ’ m having lunch with ( where is my arm? Where is my arm? ) After the accident, I had assumed that this would fade. I crashed my car into a truck and ripped the nerves from my spinal cord. I know all this. Technically, the arm is still there, and I haven ’ t lost it at all. They left it so they could try to graft nerves to the spine, and for hope, really. Seemingly unaware that I know all this, my mind constantly cycles through the realisation ( Where is my arm? ) and reminder ( It ’ s gone ) and acceptance ( Oh, okay ). I can ’ t think anything else. Never mind losing my arm. I feel like I ’ m losing my mind.

[ WP ] After death , a text window pops up : Welcome to new game+ . You will begin your life anew , but retain all knowledge , skills , currency and items you choose to carry over . The Challenges and Enemies will be adapted to your level accordingly .

It's been some time now since I've been reborn. All the knowledge from my previous life as a scientist has been preserved inside my mind. The time machine, the laser gun, the weather-control apparatus, all of them easily re-created even with the simple materials to be found inside this home. It is a harsh and sad home, however, and it's milieu of alocoholism and cheap, vulgar jokes is starting to truly drive me mad. How I long for my native England, and not this poor, uncultured American environment. My new father is an obese, irish-american fool with a drinking habit and a single digit IQ. My new mother, who I hate most of all, is a slobbering enabler, too weak to do anything about the deteriorating house hold. One day I shall have her blood on my hands and her death on my conciousness. My new brother is a compulsory mastorbator, just as dim as his father. The sister is a sad tale, constantly berated and verbally abused by the family, even though she has done nothing wrong but be un-attractive. I can see the glint of madness in her eyes after all these years without a single validating moment of interacting with a fellow human being. The only creature in this household I seem to get along with is the family dog. But even after 13 seasons I just ca n't seem to get to that point where I can destroy them all. Everything seems to work against me, like there is some sort of divine force maintaining the status quo. If I shall ever achieve my goals and slay them all, my surprise will be almost as great as theirs. The last words they hear will be: `` What the deuce? Victory is mine!''

[ OT ] SatChat : Do you outline or just start writing ?

Almost always, I write without an outline. However, a couple times, I've used a very vague `` tentpole method'' outline -- as in, I've got a couple ideas that lead up to a conclusion. For example, when I wrote my NaNoWriMo novel last November, I wrote out three `` tentpoles'' which were the beginning, middle, and end of my story, at about a paragraph each. I have another one which is doing the same thing, but in terms of three books of 40k each ( a paragraph each ). For everything else I've written though, it's off the top of my head. Sometimes I do n't even have a proper ending in mind, just maybe a couple ideas I'd love to toss in. A lot of people love serious outlines, but I end up going `` why do an outline when I can just write the book?'' I should probably try to outline more so that I have a firmer idea as to where my stories are going. Check out my subreddit /r/Syraphia and my [ Inkitt ] ( http: //www.inkitt.com/syraphia ) for more of my writing.

[ CW ] A poem from a serial killer that just wants to be loved

Oh, you know I miss you, When your body's cold and dead. You know I miss your misery, Back when we wore your red. Oh, you know I miss you, I miss your heart and soul. The way it tasted in my mouth... Beautiful, salty, and cold. My friend, my foe - my future wives - The ones to whom I pledge, To never leave a stone unturned, Or leave you hanging on a ledge. I know in life we disagreed: You thought I was insane. But please, excuse my temperament, For it only affects my brain. Come on, I gave you life's great thrill! To die in horrid fun! I gave all that I could give in life, Yet still, from me, you run. At times this world does not make sense, With its twisted moral rights. Yet when I had the most of fun, Was in our heated verbal fights. Oh, you know I miss you, And the pain you made me feel, When you fled from my fleeting offer of death, And I had to catch you by the heel. Oh, you know I miss you, Despite what you do to me. You do n't take the love I offer you; Is it because death is free?

[ WP ] Humanity is the idiot savant of the galaxy . We 're terrible at almost everything compared to every other race , but we surpass them in spades in one thing .

They would n't have even made contact with us if it were n't for the radio transmissions. Not the news bulletins or the misguided attempts at interplanetary communication, no, they just interpreted those as signs that we should be left alone. When their hundred-mile-long ark arrived in our skies no one could believe it. They claimed that their ship was capable of near-light speed, but even then the trip from Tau Ceti had taken fifteen years. What we learned about their society was fascinating: Although much of the Milky Way could be considered a single civilization, as knowledge and ideas were freely shared amongst planets, the individual worlds still largely kept to themselves due to the immense distances involved. Interstellar travel was exceedingly rare and only used sparingly. In addition, the standard procedure for the past few million years had been to monitor civilizations from afar until they were advanced enough to establish communication. Once they were contacted they would have to prove themselves worthy of membership in the Galactic Union, which would grant them access to all knowledge shared by the other planets as well as ability to travel freely across the galaxy ( if they felt the need to do so ). They also became galactic ambassadors tasked with admitting any future planets closest to them. So far seventy-three planets had joined, all but the first few in the same manner. We, on the other hand, were n't advancing fast enough and were deemed worthy of an immediate in-person meeting. As it turns out, we humans are the artisans of the galaxy. All of the intelligent civilizations yet discovered had the capacity for wonder, humor, and storytelling, but none came close to human creativity. Apparently our radio shows, music, television, and movies had been passed around the galaxy as fast as radio waves would allow. Scholars continue to argue whether this is due to our capacity for lies or our fascination with conflict, but the fact remains that even the worst human art and entertainment is a masterpiece to the rest of the galaxy. The beings from Tau Ceti were n't even the ones who should have been tasked with admitting us to the Union, but they had the misfortune of evolving an enormous appetite for entertainment with almost no skills at producing it. The promise of even more forms of art and entertainment that had n't been broadcast into space was too much, and they organized an expedition to Earth. Approximately two million of them arrived on the ark, all willing to leave their normal lives for a chance at experiencing human entertainment first-person. Their first message to us after we detected them in orbit was the musical notes from *Close Encounters*. We were given tests and failed miserably at almost all of them. Not only were we not ready to join the rest of the galaxy, the results indicated that we would likely never be ready. Fortunately for us, they discovered our art museums, books, live theater, and the Internet, in addition to the vast amount of music, movies, and television that had never been broadcast into space. They had been experiencing so little of what we had to offer that we were immediately granted limited member status in the Galactic Union. They shared all of their knowledge in exchange for rebroadcasting rights for existing works, and any artist or entertainer who wished to travel the galaxy was guaranteed a life of luxury. To this day, no matter which planet you are on, the humans working in the arts and entertainment industry are among the most respected and wealthy. They say that Vega's ticket into the galaxy club was the reactionless drive, and for Barnard's Star it was nanorobotics. For Sol, it was a library card and a Netflix subscription.

[ WP ] You are a shop keeper in a fantasy world . Explain how your typical day goes by .

Twice every suncycle, I walk around my dusty, one-room shop, and chant the ancient prayers of Shib'aal. The words flow out of me like running water, but I had no idea what they meant - all my knowledge was like the person who'd learn to speak dolphinese by imitating the dolphins. Carefully, I pace - seven times clockwise, seven times anticlockwise - for seven is the multiplicity of the Ringworld. This *has* to be done. Otherwise, or so the legends said - otherwise the Ringworld would fragment, be torn apart under the stress of its rotation. This is my typical day - but I'm somewhat helped by the fact that this is n't your typical shop. You see, in here I sell prayers for the dead. No-one knows how we came to be on this megastructure. Some ancient species had decided to build this monstrous ring, a hundred and fifty million klicks in diameter, and we were all that was left of their ambitious project. We have no history, save for the history that we made ourselves. We are the nameless, faceless inhabitants of infinity - we do not come from anywhere, nor do we go anywhere once we leave. For this reason folks here are rather pessimistic about death. In the best of times it was nothing to shout about, but here on the Ringworld death was positively mortifying, if you'll pardon the pun - because there was no certainty whether or not the universe would carry on without you. I mean, from what we'd seen, it'd always kept trucking along - but realising this would require people to admit that they were not the center of their own universe. Of course, this has since been empirically proven to be a stupidly difficult thing to shake off. When my prayers are done I look outside the window. There's not much breathable air outside, but it's still enough to give the world a thin blue veneer. Far off in the distance, I can see the other half of the ringworld, stretching across the sky like some movie reel drawn in space. Soon the first few customers would walk in. A childless mother, perhaps. Or a broken partner. A dying man. Death was a booming business here, and if one were inclined only to money, you'd definitely say this was Pluto's lot - the gemstones and the underworld. Running this place, and seeing the people that passed through this place, meant that every passing day could never be fully typical. This place was routine only in its unroutine-ness. I heard the bell tinkle and tried to look suitably sad. A mother approached the counter, her face wrinkled, her eyes red. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see a small gold band on her fingers. Something inside my soul stirred - it is as if I had seen her before. Had I really? `` I'm sorry for your loss. How may I help you today?'' I intoned. `` One extra-strength prayer tablet, please,'' she said. I dived behind the counter, where I saw a tiny, pinkish pellet on one of the shelves. Carefully, I extracted it from where it rested and passed it across the counter. `` I'm sorry, who is this for?'' I asked. She looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a look of surprise sweep her weathered face. `` Do n't you remember me?'' she asked. I looked at her, and suddenly it was as if an electric bolt had run down my spine. `` Nancy?'' I asked in disbelief. The woman only nodded. `` Once we went to the city. I remembered it well - there were seven bridges connecting the island and the bank. We tried to cross all of them and come back to the same spot. Always we tried - always we failed.'' `` Nancy,'' I simply repeated. The prayer tablet rested silently on the counter top. This was n't unusual - a lot of people on the Ringworld, even the shadowy figures that dominated the other side - they all knew me. But Nancy was special. `` It was a prophecy,'' I said. `` Only the lovers who cross'd the seven would be joined together in heaven. We never did cross them together, Nancy - so I suppose-'' Nancy swallowed. And then, in a flash, I understood. The ring on her finger- `` You married?'' I asked. `` Despite our promise not to?'' Nancy nodded. She could n't bear to tell me the horrible truth - the idea that love could hurt was too much to contemplate. `` Who is your husband?'' I asked. `` He's dead,'' she replied. `` I'm buying this prayer for him. I have nothing left in the ringworld, except my wedding ring - will you be willing to accept that as payment?'' It was not a matter of payment at all, and she knew that perfectly well. Slowly, I reached out, and touched her paper-thin hands as the sky laughed and played on outside. `` What about us?'' I asked. `` Did we ever have anything at all?'' She blinked, then nodded. I passed the pill to her with a sigh. `` One extra-strength prayer tablet,'' I said. `` To be used on the target of your choice.'' She pocketed it, then stopped. At the door she turned back. `` Did you say - target of your choice?'' I nodded. She broke the tablet in two, handing one half to me. I accepted my own tablet with bewilderment. `` What is it for?'' `` One half,'' she replied. `` For love lost and found, and love lived and died.'' `` Do you really believe that's going to help?'' I blurted out. `` What other hope do we have left?'' I started - but then I stopped. She was older now. I had grown up since then, too, selling prayers for the dead. Something had gone from us two and it could never be the same again. And as I bade her goodbye from my store, wondering about it all - well, I thought, love was a thing that could die after all. And the world would keep trucking on and no-one would give a squeak and no-one would care about the secret night out in Olympic park or the time we went to see spaceships launch for the Other Side. So I simply shrugged it off. It was dead now. There was no escaping time, time, endless time, the spinning and suncycles of the Ringworld, the certainty of life winding down. I had drawn Pluto's lot - the gemstone and the underworld - and I could not go back. I had forgotten to pay Charon his due.

[ WP ] Humans have just learned that the universe as we know it is just some alien kid 's experiment for his science fair .

`` What?'' `` Its a computer program. All of this. Our life, our world, all of it. A damn computer program!'' Collins stood up, his nostrils flaring with his revelation. `` What do you mean, how can you tell?'' Vanessa asked, worried her partner had gone insane. `` Look at the readings, the scans very clearly show that this world has been GENERATED. We have codes for Christ's sake!'' He laughed, realising his inadvertent joke. `` So, what? We are n't real? We're just a.. Computer program? Do you honestly think I'd believe that?'' `` It does n't matter what you believe, the datas right there.'' `` OK. Say we are A.I.s in a computer program. Why would they give us enough intelligence to realise what this is?'' `` Hell if i know.'' Collins rested his fists on the desk. `` But im gon na figure out a way to take control of the program.''

[ MP ] Share with us your favourite song , then write a short story while listening to it .

Song: [ Atreyu-Doomsday ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=RdmOa8MhVoo ) ( had a leg up here, as I often write to music anyways, so this was mostly already written ) Had to edit some things to prevent spoilers since it's from a forthcoming work. -- -- -- Sergeant Gregori Renfro ’ s eye twitched. He wanted sorely to itch it or scratch it, but he was already strapped in. *S ’ not like I ’ d want to anyways, damn suit gloves aren ’ t fit for jabbin in your eyes. * George hated the wait before a drop. It was their first, all of their first time. They had done thousands of simulations, dozens of training drops, but this was the unit ’ s first combat drop. As valiant as the locals were, he doubted they stood a chance without serious intervention. They would stand up for themselves, but were sorrily outclassed by the aggressors who had now set upon them. But now the first squad, Weapons Platoon, 1st Mobile Armor Company, Vanguard Marine Corps was strapped into their four man drop pods, chambered like massive bullets into tubes four thru six. It felt like hours since others in the company had launched. They were still awaiting their intel package to download. The whole mission was a rush job. Stonewater had them spin up the minute they left Sanctuary, the minute they knew the Kell fleet was headed for the planet Seggren, but they had to wait until they arrived to narrow the scope. A light blinked on the display inside his hood and data began to flow into his suit ’ s onboard computer. A screen materialized on the inside of his copula to the left of his face. The text WALON overlaid a topo-map for a few seconds before reducing to a corner. Translator data ticked along the bottom, along with minor cultural nuances. Streams of imagery began to show on a separate display to the right. Gregori turned his head and sipped from his hydration straw giving him some added fuel for his pre-drop ritual. Taking advantage of the suit ’ s waste system, he removed the pressure from his bladder. Mentally, he tapped into the suit ’ s communication node, “ Alright gentle-beings, we ’ re – ” the pod slipped into its final prelaunch position, breaking Sergeant Renfro ’ s train of thought for a split second. As the release clamps locked into place again, he knew the drop was moments away. “ As I was saying, we ’ re about to drop and clear the way for Second Battalion to land. Target is an airstrip just outside Walon. Looks like the local Spaceport. We ’ ll crashdown, in the city outside and sow some confusion amongst the enemy prior to. Full brief should have uploaded to your suits by now. Everyone read it? Any questions? ” Across his squad tactical panel, confirmation signals just below the status signals, lit up green signifying “ all good, no questions ”. Then one shifted from green to orange, Lance Corporal Tiv denWildfur had changed his mind. Gregori opened up the link, “ Yeah, Tiv? ” The Coloplfian cackled slightly over the squad channel, “ When can we get some burritos? I ’ m starving. ” Sergeant Renfro sighed, “ I do n't think the locals have them, Tiv. You can sample the fare *after* we're done. ” A large “ 10 ” appeared centimeters from his face. It faded into a “ 9 ”. *You know, sometimes I wish they ’ d just drop us rather than have the buildup of a count d–* The acceleration of the drop cut him off. In the pods they were in zero g, free from artificial gravity. Upon launch, the systems did their best to create a limiting field effect around them. It cut the g forces to ten percent, but it still kicked like a mule. After a few moments, acceleration gave way to stabilized flight. Gregori could feel the adjustment thrusters nudging the pod. Gently at first, the tug of gravity returned. Then the shuddering began, followed the main thrusters kicking in forcing them into an accelerated burn. *Two seconds and…* With a pop, bang, and a hiss the drop-pod broke into four tear shaped meteors, shedding a good deal of debris into the air behind them. *Another three seconds…Need some music. Computer, play: * Atreyu-Doomsday. *Medium Volume, Auto-fade for incoming communications. * Gregori had taken a few liberties with regulations and coded into his suit a basic music emulator, but ensured that it would not interfere with his situational awareness by coding it in a manner that allowed the audio systems of the suit to override it under specific circumstances. The speakers near his head began to build up a crescendo of throbbing guitars, just as the air around him exploded. Scattering behind him, the protective shell that held him flew away. Thin wisps of clouds buffeted him as he plummeted. He checked his readouts. Everyone was still green, everyone was now in free-fall. He glanced left to see Corporal Trask, wrapped in his golem-esque synthsteel suit, falling like a skydiver. Each of the Mark II suits protected, enhanced, and empowered even the smallest Sat ’ ra. Variations on this model existed for each species in the Vanguard, increasing the size of the wearer to just slightly larger than a Kell. Obviously some variants had more mechanics than others. Rushing up at him from below, the ground looked far from welcoming. Smoke and ruble ruined the symmetrical layout of the ancient city. It was the capital of the region and an important transport hub. Music faded as he willed the squad comm line open, “ Breaking in five. Tiv you ’ re falling to fast, break now. Everyone else…NOW! ” The music built into a symphony of anger as his boot and pack thrusters flared to life. Sergeant Renfro braced himself as he came crashing into the pavement on a foot and knee. The suit reacted in kind, allowing him to maintain his balance. His massive boot left a fifty centimeter long indentation in the asphalt. Gregori recovered quickly and retrieved his Khamber-Five Enhanced Assault Rifle from its back-mounted attachment point. The K5 was designed for the larger fingers of the suit. Weapons Company normally carried bigger weapons than the K5 and would also be attached to line units in a much different manner. Today however, they were running like a standard Mobile Armor line Company. Fading the end of the song, he called out. “ Sound off, Hellhounds. ” One by one, the twelve other members of first squad responded. No issues yet. “ Adjust to me, wide diamond. Fifty meter dispersion. Remember the ROE. No locals, no matter what they shoot at you. S ’ not like any of it will make a dent, short of a tank. Watch your shots too, urban considerations. ” -- -- -- -- -- - There's more, but that's the end of the song. EDIT: A few stylistic changes. I can post more, but only if /u/0ed wants it.

[ WP ] `` You know the difference between a child and an adult ? Adults know what happens at night ... ''

The winding road extends before me like the body of a snake. Rain pounds the windshield, and I drive at a crawling pace lest the serpent wake and fling me from its back. On one side of the serpent, a steep hillside, covered in shadow, brush, and trees. On the other side, a sheer cliff extending down to the ocean. Who knows what foul creatures lurk in the dark waters at the base of the cliff. The road is perilously lodged between two extremes-the trees which reach up impossibly high to tickle the feet of God, and the ocean which flows down into the depths of the earth to cool the fires of Hell. I look over at the passenger seat. My beautiful wife sits there, the side of her face pressed to the window. She was fast asleep, lulled by the sound of the rain and the hum of the tires on the wet pavement. I sigh. I am bitter. We are returning home from her parents' place. A dry roast dinner had been a poor distraction from the equally dry conversation. But, there at the chipped yellow Formica table, under flickering florescent lights, my wife, my'beautiful' wife, had confessed to everything. I wish she had n't. Affairs. Drug use. Theft, to support both her habits and her boyfriends'. She talked for what seemed like hours about her sins, though it was only minutes. I know, now, that while she might have her head turned to the hillside that reaches up, she is forever suspended over the cold, watery precipice. I realize that I've picked up speed. I jerk the steering wheel. Not enough to cause an accident or to wake her. Just enough to prove to myself I could. I reach over and shake her awake. She looks at me, not speaking, only lifting that questioning brow of hers. I jerk the wheel again, and her eyes widen in panic. I turn the wheel sharply, veering towards the cliffside. She does n't scream, only grips the dashboard as the car tires leave the pavement. For a few wonderful moments, we are suspended in midair. Gravity has no power over us-we are flying. Angels, for the first and last time, before time resumes and we plummet towards the ocean. The roaring of the waves growing louder, I spare a glance into the back seat. There, our child, a boy of seven, is fast asleep, his head having fallen onto his chest. I smiled. I wanted my wife to know, but my son, if he is mine... he wo n't know what happens tonight.

[ WP ] Describe a politician 's day , in your utopian form of government .

He scratched the back of his neck as he yelled to his wife, `` Honey! Where did I put my keys?'' He was always losing his damn keys, but they always seemed to be in the same place. Either in his coat pocket or on the table. One thing was for sure, his wife would always know exactly where they were. `` They're on the table in the foyer'' She yelled from the nursery. Of course, there they were. On his drive to work, he thought about the issues of the day and how they would affect his family. Ever since the breakthrough government system that was implemented ten years ago, things have never been better. Crime rates were down and as a result, the number of prisons that have closed is amazing. People are being treated for mental illnesses and not just thrown in an environment where they wo n't get help. The government has never been more productive. He rubbed the back of his neck as he felt the small bump. He knew it was a neural implant, ca n't remember what it does. Suddenly, he remembered the Royals were doing pretty well this year and it would be cool if they won the crown. They had done fairly well the previous year and have a pretty good chance. He arrived at work and went to his cubical. Although it was fairly early, his coworkers all arrived by 7:30. Just like every day. After he put his black leather briefcase down, he made his rounds to catch up with everyone. He noticed everyone else had bumps too; on the back of the neck, just above the spine. Why does everyone have these implants again? What are they for? Damn, the weather has been great this weekend. He returned to his desk and got to work. Something kept bothering him though. Everything he said, everyone agreed with. Whether it be political views, who should win the Super Bowl, or even favorite foods. Every time he would think about it he would suddenly get distracted. But still, life was good and the government is on his side. Just like everyone else. -- - First time post, feedback would be greatly appreciated.

[ WP ] Death is a supernatural being that can only see one person at any time , and he knows he must always kill that person .

He did n't know who he was supposed to be this time. The landscape around him was green and full of tropical trees. The ground was muddy, the wind blew hard, and in the far distance he could see a river. He could hear trumpets, he could hear roaring, but only softly so. Nobody was around him, though he wore heavy armour along with a sword and shield, as well as a helmet. A lone warrior was an uncommon thing. He placed his hand on the helmet. Phrygian? He guessed he was in a battle, but he could n't see the men around him. Sometimes he thought he saw faint ghastly visions of a magnificant army with grand pikes marching past him, but they were n't real, just figments of his imagination. Across him was an Indian. He marched confidently, but without as much armour. India? He looked at his hands. White as could be. Odd. He marched forwards as well, but then stopped. He did n't know why he had marched forward or stopped. The Indian stopped as well, but after a short pause he roared and charged at him. He could hear orders being faintly shouted and the sound of a massive stampede coming towards him. The Indian charged blindly, without much sense. As the Indian warrior was about to crash into him, he lifted his shield to prevent himself from being knocked over and buried his sword in the Indian's stomach. The landscape disappeared. Time for the next one. So many..

[ WP ] Write a story that becomes a horror story in the last line .

The Powerball was up to 10 million. The country was in rough shape with overpopulation and the power of the dollar was failing. Everyone looked at their tickets with hope they will be able to see a better tomorrow. The numbers started to be called off. The announcer was dressed in so many rhinestones it was like the earth gave him a lap dance and transferred all it's glitter to his suit. He was smiling with perfect white teeth. `` Greetings winners! Tonight is June 23rd, 2031 and people will have their lives changed by the end of this! The first number is 10! 23!..'' One guy with a grey fringed mustache got excited and started whooping and hollering. Fuck him. `` The next number is 37, 45 and with a Powerball of 4! The numbers again are 10, 23, 37, 45 and Powerball 4!'' God fucking dammit. `` Remember viewers, the United States needs 10 million by the end of the week and congratulations to the lucky stars!'' Guy sitting next to me looked down at my phone app which was now blinking. `` Hey buddy, looks like you won!'' Five other phones were also blinking in the place. `` Yah I fuckin' won you mother-,'' was all I could get out before an ashtray winged from the bartender lodged itself deep into my skull.

[ WP ] Everyone gets a bracelet that will light up more and more the closer they get to the person/thing that will kill them . Yours has never glowed . One day , you meet a person whose bracelet has never stopped glowing .

**I** “ Hey you, haven ’ t seen you all night. Too busy getting wasted with your frat buddies? ” “ I drink. I go to parties. That's me. What ’ s your excuse? I thought frat parties were a means with which the patriarchy oppresses women. Not really your scene, Emma. ” “ Can you not? Just because I ’ m a gender studies major, my god. I like parties. Parties are fun. ” “ You still having fun at 3:30 am? ” “ Nah, just waiting around to sober up. What ’ s your excuse? ” “ Oh… I ’ m always up this late. ” “ Are you serious?! Like every weekend? ” “ Every day, actually. I don ’ t really do sleep. ” “ Rob. How is that even possible?! You play varsity sports, you ’ re in my 8 am physics lab… ” “ I survive. ” `` Good to know my friend's either a superhero or a cyborg.'' **II** “ Emma? ” “ Yeah. …you okay, Rob? ” “ Can we go to my room? ” “ Why, cause you need someone to take care of you after you puke, or cause you want to hook up? Either way, probably not my favorite thing to do. ” “ Neither, I promise. I just want to…show you something. ” “ Okay. Are you sure nothing ’ s wrong? Now I ’ m scared there ’ s a dead body in your bathroom or something. ” “ Nothing like that. You just have to promise to never tell anyone else. ” “ …I promise. ” **III** “ Shit, Rob, what ’ s making it glow? ” “ Me. ” “ What? How? ” “ It ’ s always been like this. Literally never stops glowing unless I take it off. Why do you think I never wore it? ” “ I…I thought you just wanted to look like a daredevil. ” “ I ’ m not a daredevil, Emma. ” “ Look, it ’ s got to be a mistake. Send it back. Have it tested. ” “ Did that in second grade. That was when my parents got me a dog. ” “ …this means, means you ’ re going to… ” “ Kill myself, yes. Apparently so. ” “ No. That ’ s not possible. You're Rob. You wouldn ’ t choose to kill yourself. ” “ I know it ’ s possible. I see it happen every time I go to sleep. Cliffs, ropes, pills, guns. My subconscious is persistent, if not creative. ” “ Oh god. That ’ s why you don ’ t sleep. ” “ Bingo. ” “ You, you can ’ t let it freak you out like this. It ’ ll probably be... when you ’ re really old, you know. Like you ’ re really old and Alzheimer ’ s is starting to set in and you want to end it on your own terms. There ’ s nothing wrong with that, right? ” “ I don ’ t know, Emma. ” “ I don ’ t know either. ” “ I ’ m sorry. ” “ Me too. ” **IV** *Emma woke up disoriented. She was in a bed, but not hers. Rob ’ s? She vaguely remembered tears and hugs and drifting in and out of wakefulness. Someone had covered her with a blanket and taken off her shoes. Rob ’ s room, yes. He was already gone, probably off on a morning walk. His bracelet sat on the desk, inches from her face, glowing faintly. So he wasn ’ t close. Maybe at the gym, or getting coffee, but it didn ’ t matter. Emma watched the red light slowly grow brighter. Quietly, with a sense of peace, she removed her own bracelet, dull gray as always, and left it on the desk. On her own wrist she slipped Rob ’ s bracelet, and as it began to grow brighter, she straightened the bedcovers and left. *

[ WP ] Rant at me .

Every time I turn around I see so much that should piss me off, and it does, but I'm just so fucking tired all the time. There's never a god damn reason to really get up and actually do anything about it. Every good and noble person working for the betterment of us as a species has a dozen people apparently unable to see beyond their own personal fortunes toiling to keep things fucked. Then I see you. You are such a god damn beautiful human being, doing these amazing things and improving the lot of everyone around you. Working twenty hour days every day for months on end and actually achieving good things. Then I look at myself, and holy shit. I'm so god damned mediocre it is disgusting. I'm smarter than average, but barely care. I have a good basic body type, but ca n't be bothered to get in shape. I'm fucking horribly lonely all the time and I ca n't muster up the god damned energy to do anything about it. You show me what I could be, you show me the other option. I love you for it. I want your respect more than anything in the world. And I hate you so much it terrifies me.

[ FF ] [ 200 Words ] First Sentence : `` well that was n't my brightest moment ''

`` Well that was n't my brightest moment.'' `` It certainly dwarfed all of your previous mistakes.'' `` I'm not sure you appreciate the gravity of your new situation.'' `` Haha yeah, it was a'red giant' mistake, right guys?'' From the primordial soup of silence to the surging spark of life to the astrophysical abortion, all in the span of a minute; entropy bled out the momentum of the conversation into the open expanse of the observatory ’ s eggshell dome. Some sad social cousin of alchemy or chemistry produced a faint stench of nerd sweat, the final embarrassed exudate of the odd man out of the odd men within. We all pointedly gazed back into our own private lenses, and poor Marvin was left staring once more into his own personal abyss.

[ WP ] You 're thinking of asking out that girl in your Religious Studies class . Also , you 're pretty sure she 's a God .

To be fair, I'm always a little intimidated to talk to any kind of stranger, let alone a girl with long brown hair and deep green eyes and a propensity for wearing low-cut shirts. This feeling is familiar -- my heart is in my throat, the adrenaline is surging, I can barely breathe let alone think let alone keep my throat clear so my voice comes out smooth and even, as if talking to her is just the easiest thing in the world. This is normal. And yet. I'm sure this time is different. This time she is making me feel the way that I feel, I mean actively sensing that I am looking at her and as a result making my throat close up, my pulse quicken, my palms sweat and my entire theoretical life with her flash before my eyes, punctuated by sex with her, often, forever. She is a God. How else to explain the fact that she has never raised her hand once, or even been called on to speak, despite sitting right there in the front, close to the door. How else to reconcile the fact that not even the football player, who comes into this class to take the exams and nothing else, tries to hit on her after class as I see all other football players in all my other classes do to all the other beautiful girls? How else can it be that this person is so incredibly gorgeous, and is not already married and living in a castle somewhere, whisked away by a handsome actor with a trust fund? She is unreal. She is too good to be true. She is unapproachable, especially by the likes of me, and she knows it, and she wants me to know that she knows it. She knows I have figured her out and she is trying to put me off, like she does with everyone else. But: It's the last day of class. We will hand in a paper next week to complete our coursework. We will no longer sit here and discuss the differences between Sikhism and Buddhism, or parse through Masuzawa's texts. We will go home and pretend this never happened, most likely -- happy to have passed and to move on. But for me, this class wo n't end until I talk to her, and find out if she's real. I will not be dissuaded. The time has come. The clock has struck noon and the professor has dismissed us. We rise, more or less in unison, gathering our things and nodding silently at each other or ignoring the world. I see her already moving towards the door, and through it, and out into the hallway. I race out to find her, and see her hair disappearing down the stairwell. My feet feel heavy as I clomp after her. My body has not yet caught up with my brain and refuses to believe we are trying to move this quickly in this direction. I want to call out, but not only does my mouth fail to work, I do n't even know her name. I round into the grey stairwell and see her a flight below, almost out of sight. It is truly now or never. Hey, I say, down the stairs at her receding shadow. I say it quietly, but it echoes along the concrete and I see the shadow cease moving. I walk down the stairs and approach her, as she turns to me. Hey, I say again. I realize I have n't planned for this, that I was sure she would disappear in a puff of smoke if I actually reached her. I fumble for the next words. What'd you think of the class? I manage to blurt out. She simply smiles and raises an eyebrow. Then she speaks, and the force of her voice pushes me against the wall of my own mind. I am standing stock still and yet blown away to hear the words come out of her mouth. `` It was interesting. Never thought I'd take a class like that and actually like it. Wan na grab coffee and talk about the final?'' she says, easy as a hand through fur, as a light beer into the glass. Sure, I say, and put out my hand. I tell her my name, and we walk out of the stairwell and into the sun. `` Nice to meet you. I'm Tanri.''

[ WP ] `` They panned your last story . Do n't let them have the satisfaction of a hero . Make them love the bastard that did the most damage then make them see themselves for who they really are , '' implores the antagonist of your story .

# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) `` So, you'd like to be an anti-villain.'' `` Pah! Do n't make me laugh!'' He is sitting on the edge of my laptop screen. The characters come out from time to time, but only when I have n't taken my medicine. I keep telling Dr. Sylvia I do n't need it. But the Baron makes me think twice about that. `` True villainy is true fame. Who forgets the real geniuses, Hitler and Stalin and Emperor Nero? That is who I must be. It's not so hard. Just start writing. I'll help you.'' `` What about Victor?'' `` Oh, it's always about Victor with you!'' He jumps down, his small frame pressing its weight upon the R key. `` Will you let him go already? Dressing him up over and over again has done nothing for you. He's only holding you back.'' `` Do n't talk about Victor like that! At least he respects me.'' `` You do n't get it, do you? He's your favorite. Of course he tells you whatever you want him to say.'' He steps on my hand, and I pull it away. `` I'm telling you what you need to hear. Forget about him. Write a story about me. About only me.'' I push my chair back and stand up. `` I'm taking my meds.'' `` You'll never get what you want if you keep being stubborn!'' I walk away. *** Victor is waiting for me in the bathroom. `` Hey Jim.'' `` What? Oh. Hey. I'll talk to you later.'' `` Hey, wait. I thought we had a handle on this, man.'' If there's one thing Victor and the Baron agree about, it's that they do n't like me taking the pills. `` I'm sorry, dude. I just need to... be alone for a bit.'' `` Look, I've been thinking. Maybe the Baron is right. Writing his story would be good. Maybe.'' I stare at him. `` You do n't believe that.'' `` Do n't take the pills, Jim. Please.'' I lay my head in my hands. I have a splitting headache. `` Just leave me alone, Victor.'' I pick up the pill bottle. `` I just want to be left alone.''

[ WP ] A man goes to the bathroom , and while he looks in the mirror while washing his hands , he discovers that his reflection is slightly out of sync .

`` Oprah?'' I screech at myself. The nappy, curly, natural black hair shakes with my reflection. This is a joke- one of those syndicated prank shows, where everyone will come out at the end, laughing at me. Laughing, toting Burbank sized cameras, asking me to fill out consent forms to legally exploit my humiliation. Only that does n't happen. There's a full body mirror in the bathroom when I `` discover'' I'm Oprah, so I think the best thing for me to do is spread my asscheeks as wide as I can pull them, and look into Oprah's ass. It's a once in a lifetime chance that you could be this close to one of the most respected women of all time. Let me take you on a journey- a journey into Oprah's asshole. As wealthy as you would think one like Oprah to be, you would think that her asshole would be impeccable. When you find a homeless man named Rhonda waiting outside, asking if you would like pleasure for crack, you soon find out that Oprah's asshole is in fact, a slum. Oprah, being a genius upon our time, takes that slum and turns it into magic. `` Magic Beads'' she calls it. `` I give one TO YOU!!! ``, `` And TO YOU, `` YOU over there look like you ned some magic beads.......'' I GIVE YOU TWO PAIRS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG HLAJKELFDJ! Everyone is like `` YES!!!! I love Oprah she gave me anal beads!!!! Until one fan takes it too far. They sit outside the Oprah recording studio. They accumulate three necklaces of Oprah's anal beads. They stick one string up, dangling accross the nipples... fantasizing about Oprah's unwaxed mustache tickling their nipple.....They stick the second string up, up a little to high for comfort, but they will do anything to appease Oprah. The third one- there's no where to put it anywhere else but anally. Little did Oprah know, or her perverted, obsessed follower know, that the anal beads have been made in a factory in South Korea, where sanitation and health codes are completely disregarded, and now you have AIDS you gross Oprah anal bead fucker.

[ WP ] Everyone in the world is able to choose exactly one superpower . The catch : the more people select a certain power , the weaker it becomes .

The Great Halt. That is what they called it. The day that the Earth stood still and from eldest to youngest, powers were received like some sort of divine blessing. I watched the Earth from the ISS, completely bewildered. One by one they chose. The eldest chose traditional powers. The first man to declare `` Flying'' rocketed into the sky at the speed of a bullet, leaving his walker behind. Everyone around him, inspired, chose the same power ( along with millions across the globe ). They all scrunched up their faces and concertedly rose but 2-3 inches. Just as the choruses of dissatisfaction were raised down plummeted the first flying man like a meteor, his power distributed throughout the world, smashing into the ground like a grasshopper on a windshield. It soon became apparent that the more that a single power is chosen, the weaker it becomes until it is just an insignificant thing. We spent a few days waiting for the chaos to subside before returning to Earth. One step on the surface, and I could feel it. This great warm surge running from my legs to my brain. I knew that I could choose anything, be anything, that I wanted. However, days after The Great Halt, here I stood, a human with an advantage. I knew the rules, and would not be trumped. Just then screaming broke out. I whipped around to find a man robbing a group of people, His right arm made of extendable lava. *Oh, that's a good one* I thought, admiring his originality. However, my phrasing would leave me the only man in the world with my power. The only man capable of stopping the great and all powerful super villain Magma Stretchy Arm! Stepping up in all my glory, I declared my power to the heavens. Ripping off my shirt, I mercilessly beat him to death. From that day forward, my name was to be sung on high. Ronald Chen, Master of the Insta-Growing Kung Fu Chest Hair!

[ WP ] You just got fired , you 're pretty sure your girlfriend is cheating on you , you 're 75k in student loans debt , rent was due last week , and to top it all off ? You 're all out of beer . Oddly enough , you just got an email titled `` Would you like to change the difficulty ? Current setting : Very Hard . ''

*Well, this sorta blew up a bit more than I expected for something I just thought of in the shower before work today. I suppose I'll have a go at it now that my comment can be buried in my own thread, away from all the scrutiny that is writing criticism. * **Ding** I want to complain about getting a text message that woke me up early in the morning, but it's not early, fuck, it's not even morning anymore. 2:00 pm and I'm just rolling out of bed, hungover as all hell. Did n't really matter though, I do n't have shit to do today, or the next 11 days for that matter. Yup, 11 more days of lounging around in my little home sweet hole in the wall. Oh, but do n't get me wrong here, I'm not on vacation, I did n't take a leave of absence or anything like that, nah, my fat ass got canned. Seems like the construction market in south Florida is n't as strong as one might have hoped. Without my shitty little hard labor construction job I do n't have rent money, and without paying rent I get an eviction notice... and well, you see where I'm going with this. 11 days until I'm without even this roach infested box to live in. **Shandra: sry stan but this aint gon na work out anymore goodbye** A simple text message from a simple whore. Whatever, big fucking surprise. She was fucking half the guys in this swamp-town anyway. Sitting up in bed was more painful than Shandra leaving me. It felt like a 100 marbles rolling around in my skull. **Ding** `` Fucks sake, what now?'' I yelled out loud to myself, like some half drunk half hungover crazy hobo. Look at me, I still have 11 days until I'm homeless and I'm already a natural. It was n't a text, it was an email. Strange that it made a `` dinging'' sound though. I do n't have an sound notifications turned on for my emails, turns out small time construction company bosses do n't even know what email *is. * **Would you like to change the difficulty settings? Current setting: Very Hard** Oh good, Viagra is spamming me now? It was one time, one god damned night - ugh. Strange, the email has *no* sender. I do n't think I ever saw that before, was that even possible? Fuck do I know about computers though. A masters degree in Philosophy does n't teach you much about computers besides the morality of using one to keep a brain alive or some horse shit like that. Oh yah, my degree? Yea, that cost me only about 78 grand, which I've paid back a whopping 3 grand of. Fuck if I care though, love to see a debt collector find me when I'm living under a bridge blitzed off of 3 dollar vodka. **It would seem you're having trouble with this level. Would you like to change the difficulty setting? ** ** [ ] Extremely Hard** ** [ x ] Very Hard** ** [ ] Hard** ** [ ] Medium** ** [ ] Easy** ** [ ] Very Easy** ** [ ] Extremely Easy** Yeah, how about I call up Nigeria before I do this, there's this prince there I know that will help me out with this decision. Deleted. Fucking idiot spammers. If I thought *sitting up* was bad, *standing up* was something a masochist would spend their spring break doing. It is n't all for not, though! The one thing that will keep me ticking for the next few minutes is the last bottle of Yuengling I left myself in the fridge. A little hair of the dog to get me going on this eventful Thirsty Thursday. You ever stub your toe while being hungover? I'm certain there are poor fucks in North Korean camps that are having a better time than me, the gross happiness quotient of Guantanamo Bay prisoners eclipses mine right now. Honestly, the only worse sight of the blood seeping out of my big toe onto the floor right now is the beer it's mixing with. Yep, when I fell to the floor so did my sweet, poor, innocent brew. **Ding** Holy shit I'm about to throw this fucking phone out the god damn windo- wait.. what the fuck? **Are you sure you do n't want to change the difficulty setting? ** Alright, whatever. Boom. Click that box right next to EXTREMELY FUCKING EASY ( just like Shandra, am I right boys? ) It's not like I can afford to keep the service on this phone after a few weeks anyways why would I care if I just let a virus rifle threw my shit? As long as answering the email makes it stop fucking bothering me then I'm set. Sure is weird though, just as I hit send the bleeding in my toe stopped, hell, it does n't even hurt anymore. Holy shit, is that a $ 50 crumpled up under the couch? When the fuck did that get there? Whatever, I guess. Looks like daddy is having himself a 24 pack or two tonight.

[ WP ] You time travel back to the feudal Japan and discover that 1980 's media mostly depicted the ninja accurately .

`` Kiii-ya!'' `` Put it away, darlin','' I said, exasperated. I heard another of the blighters drop down from the roof behind me. Damn. Now I was surrounded. `` Look,'' I said, showing my empty palms to the world, `` I come in peace. Watashi wa, heiwa ni kimasu.'' `` Anata wa itan-sha, joseidesu,'' one of them spat out. My japanese was a little rusty, but I got the gist. To reinforce the point, a shuriken whizzed past my ear and severed a few strands of hair. Time slowed down as they floated lazily in the air. The first hair hit the ground and everything happened at once. I mean that literally. I hit the `` Slow time'' button on the TimeWatch as the first ninja lunged. His movement slowed to a crawl. More shurikens were drifiting through space towards the spot where I had been standing. I blew a puff of air at one, and sent it spinning. Then I slipped Brass Betty over my knuckles and smiled at the ninjas. `` OK boys, it's playtime.'' -- - Read more stories about [ Annabel Goldschmidt ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/jd_rallage/comments/47afz9/stories_about_annabel_goldschmidt/ ) at [ r/jd_rallage ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/jd_rallage ).

[ WP ] You 're midway into your flight when you , feeling bored , decided to surf the Internet . You read breaking news about another plane disappearance . You 're on that flight .

This is what i wrote so far. I did n't realize how long it was until I stopped and read some. If you want me to continue let me know. I never much had a taste for flying. Almost like a long Cuban cigar which I find harsh and unpleasant yet, some love the taste and “ texture ” of the thick smoke rolling off the tongue. Much like flying in a way, some love flying, or just don ’ t mind it, while others loath the very slightest of plane rides. I myself always find a nervous pit in my stomach form when it comes to booking the tickets, checking the bags, and boarding the flight. That small sudden ping of anxiety the moment the flight attendant fakes the over exaggerated hello and the captain gives his pre-flight speech to prepare the individuals partaking on the flight and giving them all the particulates. Today was no different as I boarded the flight I got the same pang of anxious, stomach churn and took my seat. 3-B, window seat, I guess I couldn ’ t be upset for I enjoy the flying sensation, staring downward at the miniscule landscape, with that brief understanding of the perspective of god In way, or for those who don ’ t believe in the big omnipotent man upstairs, at least a bird. 3-B, window seat, for some reason my mind wanted to repeat it as if some form of a sequence, maybe I should have had some more damn coffee this morning waiting at the O ’ Hare lounge. Plus, the barista there was a looker, even though she always seems to get some grounds in your coffee, but nobody is perfect. Tilting back my tray the flight attendant brought me over the pretzels and prune juice I asked for as I set my travel pillow behind my head. Shoving my Memorex ear phones, connected with my iPod, I nestled in to the ever so fraudulently comfortable airplane seats and drifter away, suddenly envious of the 1st class fliers with their bed-like seat structure. Dreams, so vivid it felt like they weren ’ t just actual life, but a part of my soul, crashing through my mind as if they were freight trains without the hindrance of brakes. The dreams came in the forms of odd, slow, and jumbled images. The images twisted around as if imitating an owl ’ s head movement were blurring by my vision, Twisted images all indistinguishable yet, all causing a sense of panic, an almost pain like feeling. Suddenly awake as if in the blink of an eye I reared my head to the left with a slight gasp, Cold sweat grasping my body in waves causing me to shiver uncontrollably, being asleep for only 40 minutes felt like days as I groggily sat forward, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, withdrawing the buds from my ears I withdrew my laptop from my checked bag as if it would send some comfort to myself having that homily item to rely on. Never leaving home without the square centrality of my life holding everything from work, play, and the pictures of my kids all in one place, astounding the advances of technology truly are as I click the power button and wait for the startup blinking followed by the encouraging tune of music that plays upon arriving at the password page. CNN, my trusted news source for the last 5 years of my journalism career, anywhere from the cold facts to the stony, dumb bastards running this country, however what I saw upon arriving at the home page was numbing, a shock as if the family dog had just been hit by a vehicle. The flight, the damned flight MY ticket has listed on it 357. “ Gone, Disappeared, or severely off course, American Airlines flight 357 goes dark! ” I glance around the aircraft in which all members are still resting as if nothing at all could be the bother. I un-click my seat restraint and move towards the bathroom with a sickly feeling tormenting my stomach as if you just spilled the milk and your step father doesn ’ t like wet shoes. I make my way towards the rest room moving slowly as if in molasses almost to a crawl.....

[ WP ] Every time you get sick in this life , it means you just died on another universe . Right now everyone on earth is ill but you .

Stela Malsano confounded every epidemiologist, even someone as knowledgeable as Dr. Anna Walker. Most diseases, you see, spread from an initial vector of infection. A man stumbles into a garbage heap with an open sore and picks up a dangerous bacterium which proceeds to multiply in his body, then spreads it around by coughing and vomiting. A woman orders an exotic undercooked fish at a Japanese sushi restaurant harboring pathogens from the ocean and kisses her children at home. Once the responsible anchors itself in the host, it starts to reproduce and eventually breaks free to infect others. The self-catalytic process repeats itself until it either runs out of hosts, is contained, or simply expires. Not Stela Malsano. When it erupted, it did so instantly around the entire globe as though someone had suddenly pulled a lever, flipped a switch, pressed a button. Entire families on the far side of the earth awoke screaming with vivid hallucinations. Chaos ensued on the highways as drivers seized with convulsions and caught in the grip of lifelike trances lost control of their vehicles, often fatally. Dr. Anna, attending a colloquium on multiverse influence at the University of Illinois, bore witness to the entire room suddenly get up and run around screaming with lunatic abandon. Some thought the zombie apocalypse had begun; others were convinced that the Rapture was imminent. For a terrifying moment of penetrating clarity Anna wondered if the entire world had gone mad leaving her as the sole sane observer; almost as quickly, the rational part of her mind suggested the logical counterexample that she might be the only madwoman in a world of normalized lunacy. She was tall for a woman, over six feet in height, with a stern sharp handsomeness to her features. Persistent asthma had plagued her since her late teenage years, but even now as a well-respected professor in her late forties she could force her way past the young graduate student raving about lunar light and barricade herself in her office in the Department of Epidemiology. Panicked screams seeped through the walls in muffled bursts like corrosive waves of toxic miasma and Dr. Anna fumbled for her phone. Her children. Please let them be alright. Risking a peek outside the office window unveiled the panorama of pandemonium; every human seemed to have gone mad simultaneously outside, running drunkenly into sides of buildings, stumbling, falling, rising up to do it again. The ubiquitous pigeons pecking for seeds on the grassy quads fluttered up to the trees, annoyed by the chaos of their usually orderly lunch. Indignant bird features ruffled at the irrational commotion; fine, let the earthbound simians stumble around like tangled marionettes! The hysteria died down within a day, though its effects lingered on the human consciousness for quite some time afterwards. Laboratory epidemiologists almost immediately found the prions responsible for the outbreak, mysteriously dormant again. Radio pundits suggested terrorism. China and North Korea blamed each other. Churches saw record attendance on the next Sunday while public services faced the staggering prospect of repairing wrecked infrastructure left in the wake of the Stela Malsano. After-the-fact reports trickling in from around the globe confirmed that the epidemic had erupted all at once, near simultaneously. It took a long time for life to resume some semblance of normalcy after the outbreak. Alone in her office, Anna's phone finally connected. `` M-mom?!'' a frightened teenage voice asked in trepidation. In the background, Anna discerned more rabid screams and shrieks all around. `` What's happening?! Are you alright? Where are you -'' `` Leah? Leah! Oh thank goodness you're safe.'' She had to raise her voice to be heard; the professor nearly jumped out of her skin as a raving man collided with her office door and then sped down the hall. `` Where's your brother? Is he okay?'' `` I do n't know! He's was in another class. I'm in the girls' bathroom, the stall is locked - mom, what's happening?'' Poor Leah sounded on the verge of a breakdown and Anna forced herself to consciously suppress her own sense of rising panic. `` I'm so scared!'' The flood of psychiatric assessments and interviews after the epidemic brought to light a number of common symptoms. Vivid hallucinations, often of the moon. Others spoke of a disturbing, sickly emerald light that filled their vision. Societal upheaval inevitably followed: drug addicts swore off their vices to become productive, hard-working citizens while productive, hard-working citizens swore off their virtues to become drug addicts. Dr. Anna, often forced to spend much of her time writing grant proposals to scrounge money from whichever source might be willing to spare her some change for research, suddenly found herself inundated with more funding than she could use. Her senior graduate student quit his studies to go on a journey of spiritual enlightenment. Anxiety-induced deaths spiked sharply worldwide that month. Nine months later, a record number of babies were born globally. `` Leah - Leah, honey, listen to me. I'll come and get you. Stay safe where you are,'' Anna told her, steadying her own quavering voice. Fear for her children overrode trepidation of the screaming masses outside. `` Stay safe. I love you, Skye,'' she finished the call with an affectionate touch of her daughter's middle name. Dr. Anna picked up a plastic ruler more for a sense of security than practical self-defense before emerging from her office into the world consumed by madness. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - The Governor, rather pleased with himself, looked up to the Enforcer. `` There you see, Lord Vader? She can be reasonable. Proceed with the operation. You may fire when ready.''

[ WP ] Write me an intimate monologue leading up the kill . Your first or last .

This is the last one. This is the last one. THIS IS THE LAST ONE. Keep putting one foot forward. One after the other. DO N'T LOOK AT HIM. Do n't look at him He's trying to swing your emotions with his eyes. Focus. Focus on the task. Focus on your blade. Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters till after the job is done. [ pause ] Ten more steps. Ten. Why am I doing this again? NO. No doubts. Can not doubt. I've gone too far to doubt myself. Nine. Look how helpless he looks. Wriggling in the chair. The poor bastard does n't have any let up, does... DO NOT LOOK. Eight. Looking always makes it harder. Seven. But I love to look at the hopelessness in their eyes. I like to know that I'm the last thing they'll ever see before eternal damnation. Six. The bastard needs to stop moaning. No one can hear his cries on the outside. No one can help him. No one. Five. Halfway there. Halfway to being done with this bullshit. Four. I do n't even know why they chose me for this. What did they see in me? Perhaps... Three. They saw my will to kill and not feel. They saw my vulnerability, my ability to null my feelings. They saw what I DID. THEY SAW ALL OF IT. TWO. THEY TOOK ADVANTAGE OF ME. ( breathing intensifies ) They just think I'm a pawn in their little game. ONE. WELL THEY CAN THINK AGAIN. zero. ( the swish of a blade. a clean cut by the sound of it ) ( the sound of a head rolling a few meters before coming to a halt ) this ca n't be my last. they told me it would be. but i have other plans now. now everything matters.

[ WP ] You can earn achievements in life that give you special bonuses . Each bonus is unique and significant . As you travel by an Airplane , you find yourself in a cold sweat because of the achievement you just earned ...

The nearly comical gasp that came from everyone on the plane was almost like the cheesy soundtrack that accompanies 90s sitcoms. It could have been funny had I not gasped in horror along with everyone else. The familiar notification icon lit up in the lower corner of my vision. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: The Final Countdown My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly highlights from my life were playing across my vision - my first kiss, my wedding, the birth of my son, that weekend we stayed in bed watching movies and laughing together. Everyone knew what this achievement was. It was one of the only ones that each and every one of us would experience one day. The plane began to shudder as everyone closed their eyes and focused on their favorite moments. At least when this software was invented they made sure that the phrase `` life flashing before your eyes'' really meant something.

[ WP ] For the past century , portals to a demon dimension have been opening up over the surface of the world . The largest portal has just opened in the middle of NYC , destroying the city . Now only a small child stands where the city was .

The explosion rang throughout the city. I could hear the collective screaming of everyone who suddenly disappeared. Why did it leave me? Why was I the only one left? My parents, my uncles, everyone I have ever known and loved. Gone. I was the only one left. I could n't believe that it would do this. That Gozerian was a real piece of shit. I was the last remaining the survivor of the catastrophe of New York. I walked for hours trying to find another life form. I searched dad's firehouse, and our old apartment building, there was no one to be found. I searched dad's firehouse, hoping to at least find Mr. Tully, I was positive that he could have survived. All I found were his crushed glasses. I headed downstairs to the containment grid and just found a mess of ectoplasm and rubble. I knew that all the ghosts had been freed by the explosion, but now that everyone in New York, including the Ghostbusters, was missing or probably dead, there was not one to re contain the free roaming spirits. That was twenty years ago. The city slowly but surely rebuilt itself, and now I, Oscar Barret-Venkman, am the leader of a new team of Ghostbusters, and I'll pull Gozer out of that shithole he climbed into and I'll avenge my parents, my uncles, and all of New York, and hopefully find a way to bring everyone back.

[ WP ] A well timed mugging saves the world from one of the greatest terrorist threats it 'd ever faced . You , the mugger , are now a hero .

Look, if you're going to cut down an alley in this part of town dressed like that, I consider it a personal favor that someone as non-violent as myself is going to teach you this life lesson. I launch into Act 1 of our little two-man show, and I have to say that Mr. Fancy really shone in his role as set-upon victim; I did n't have to put up with any tough-guy bullshit, but he was n't some blubbering, pants-wetting mess that I had to coach through the whole process either. You can tell this guy's been mugged before, and he has that polite, detached let's-conclude-this-transaction-quickly demeanor that I really appreciate in a mark. I think to myself that everything's going ol' Lucky's way if a man who's in this tight with my boy Benjamin Franklin decided he did n't have the patience to wait for that Uber like everyone else. I'm about to wrap things up, but his hand is lingering a little protectively around that right pocket and my intuition starts nagging me that maybe we're operating with different understandings of the word `` empty''. Now you do n't need to explain to me about honor among thieves, but it does rustle my jimmies a mite when I'm doing my level best to keep this a polite and professional experience and the mark thinks he's going to get clever on me. I present a convincing argument as to the merits of my empty pockets policy to Mr. Fancy in the form of a few right crosses, and he hands me a thumb drive. If he's willing to buy tickets to my chin music festival for it, I'm thinking its probably got some financials on it, or maybe a performance art piece he did with the missus. Either way, you bet your ass I'm checking it out. I leave him zip-tied to the dumpster like usual and stroll back home to count my money per the sage advice of the warrior poet Kenny Rogers. Back home I say hello to Roachy and the boys as they skitter under the fridge, and I review my haul on the kitchen counter with the assistance of a cold can of Nasty Light. It'll keep the lights on anyway, maybe with a little left over to sock away in my equine investment portfolio down at the track. I figure I'll check the thumb drive to see if I maybe hit the Powerball, so I pop it in the ol' porn box and load the drive. One measly.exe file, and I've opened too many of those from Russian models who want much sexytime to fall for that again. A little disappointed, I toss it and turn my thoughts to how I'm going to convince Snake tomorrow that this Rolex is a no-shitter. I flip on the TV and some fine-ass blonde is perched above the scroller talking about terrorism, and I'm just about to flip it over to Cartoon Network when what do I see but some security camera footage of me and Mr. Fancy having our little tete-a-tete. Shit. He must have been some kind of something if taking his lunch money is worth throwing my mug up on cable news. I develop a sudden interest in national security, and turn up the volume. Apparently Mr. Fancy was some Chinese agent moonlighting as a Pentagon IT muckety-muck who was on his way to take down the nation's energy grid with his trusty thumb drive. The talking heads are on the screen now speculating wildly as to the identity of this masked hero and the current whereabouts of the thumb drive. I cast a nervous glance at the trash can, but as of now it appears that the only one with any pressing interest in it is Roachy. -- -- -- -- -- The CIA denies involvement, but of course that's what they'd say, so everybody -- to include the CIA -- seems to be content with the narrative that they cracked this one and everything's under control. Soon the nation moves on after an escaped gorilla is shot by a Syrian immigrant cop at a Black Lives Matter rally. Me, I'm still just a small-time hustler running game. You're welcome, America.

[ WP ] Across the universe humans are feared and revered as `` Dreamwalkers '' . Back on earth we 're just sleeping and dreaming as usual .

They come for me every so often, as they came for my grandmother, and great-great grandmother, before me. They keep tabs on my family, and bless one female in the off-cycle generations with extraordinary longevity, to keep especially gifted Dreamwalkers alive in a fearfully curious reverence. Over time, millennia of time, our oral history has managed to maintain the truth of Earth life's origin. It would be considered too ridiculously far-fetched, not to mention morally repugnant, to speak it to anyone not esoteric enough to be part of our personal circle of friends. But the simple fact is that homo sapiens sapiens, and all other creatures, was an experiement performed by a race of beings who fully comprehended ideas that humans are only theorizing in their twenty first century. The idea was to be able to tap into the unending stream of energy that is matter and time, to cut through dimensional static, and then ascertain the most probable of events. After tests performed by their own race failed miserably through insanity, coma, or sudden death, it was decided they needed new cognizant, mentally resilient subjects able to reliably fade in and out of consciousness on schedule. Earth happened to have the correct light/dark cycle, and after the last mass extinction event, was sparsely populated with any life and none to bother the terraformers. I knew I could Dreamwalk before I knew what Dreamwalking was, and I knew it was different from the other types of dreams. Most dreaming is imagining, and in that imagining we create complimentary dimensions that causes chaos for our Creators. And we forget all about the process; do n't even remember doing it -- or possibly we do. Or we remember incorrectly. It winds up as even more dimensional static. Think of it a bit like how we worry about being trapped on Earth due to `` space junk'', those Creators are now trapped in a more limited reality due to our dimensional junk. Dreamwalking, where the Walker packs out what they packed in, is tapping into the energy flow and moving harmlessly forward or backward along the thread that is our reality. The Creators can not usually handle it themselves as they already can partly manage the process in their normal state, which is not `` on'' as a human does it, but a bit like that period where a human is `` dozing off'' and is still aware of surroundings but also trying to tune them out. Sometimes those types of Dreamwalking Dreamss are like movies playing out the events as a documentary, and other times the settings of the Dreams matter less than the message the Dreams bring as the specific actions to bring about the end result are not yet set. Perhaps even mentioning the Dream will change things, and so the Dream will never be `` documentary clear''. It is not a paradox of predetermination any more than watching a raindrop roll down a pane of glass; you see it is a matter of the perspective of energy. ( Pardon my one pun. ) By virtue of always being tuned in, our Creator race can not truly step back and imagine without losing their nearly-overwhelmed minds or being too inhibited for any sort of success. Humans, by contrast, are able to compartmentalize. We are varied, whereas our Creators are now nearly-depleted clone stock. However, you still see some of them in us, and their goals in us, and our desire to find the truth out there in the stars in us. I did not believe they actually came until I finally left my childhood home. One night they took both me and my roommate, returning us in the early, pre-dawn morning with red marks on our left biceps that looked a bit like the Triforce from'The Legend of Zelda'. I know, but can not fully recall, what I had been asked to do or where we had been taken and am hesitant to try to look. I do remember we both noticed the lost time, the marks, and how our captors did not return us correctly to bed. We were not tucked in, but on top of the covers with our clothes on. Therein lies my problem. Yet I am sure if more Dream-sensitive humans could combine their focus we could do even more, but who would believe this? I sure did n't. Even my mother, whom I suspect is the new long-lived Matriarch, will not believe in the `` alien abduction thing Mom, Your Grandma, always insisted happened to her''. Not even studying theology and showing her the hidden science in the old stories could convince her the family title is more than a mere honorific. I try reaching out and touching others in their dreams sometimes, the results have been mixed. Our Creators made us long ago to assist them in winning wars for galactic, universal, and dimensional conquest. They will lose, I have Dream-Seen it, even if I know my mortal brown eyes will not even see what our reality will call the official start of hostilities. Our species has managed to compartmentalize horrors, at the expense of joys, although it is using its gift for abstract thought for short term, tangible gains. Even still they can not destroy us for the risk of seven billion new Heaven or Hell constructs, or ghosts inhabiting the dead Earth, would overwhelm their tenuous grips and `` dimensionally junk'' them in where ever they are. They encourage us to self-destruct, and it works to a certain extent, but they designed us too well. Not even the cessation of our human bodies actually'ends' the human, and many humans are even able to immediately conceive of their own return to Earth. Knowing all this, what can be and what long ago was, my current life span has been a careful plod forward. I try to encourage my fellow humans to their full potential as we will need all of us -- the more `` grounded'' humans have an important role in reminding the `` energy sensitive'' to stay properly charged and focused. I will need our help to minimize the inevitable hostilities.

[ WP ] The Human Race Encounters a Federation of Different Alien Species . After Joining the Federation , we Learn that Earth is Considered a Death World .

Terra was always considered the land of misfits. The one place in the galaxy where worlds could dump their unnecessary, and unneeded species from their worlds to ours. Each planet of the federation was granted the ability to drop the entirety of one species off onto Terra to free themselves of the burden of their existence on their own world. Terra was considered a *Death World*. As in it could n't sustain life for long periods of time, due to the general entropy of our solar system, and the fact that earth can only handle so much life at once from packing it full of these *useless* species. The Galactic Federation would cause mass extinction events to `` cleanse'' the planet when it got too packed, essentially a cosmic trashbin for the Galactic Federation. Humanity really was a luck of the draw. After the last M.E.E. of the Galactic Federation, as we know mammals came to be the dominant type of animal on the planet, eventually giving way to the rise of *Homo Sapiens*. Humans were lucky. One in a trillion, usually the beings of energy who lead the Galactic Federation gift the evolutionary path to sentience, and intelligence to a world, but we were the first who came to be in a natural fashion, quite literally diamond in the rough, the treasure in the world of intergalactic trash. And now that we were one of them, *The Federation were frightened to see what we could do. *

[ WP ] The recently passed law UN-334772G makes it an international crime to post online content which contains bad grammar . Describe your first day as a grammar police .

*They never tell you there's going to be paperwork. but there always is. Lots of paperwork. Close to no actual police work. I do n't even know why I'm a police officer if this is what I do all day. * Jerry kept browsing, going from cesspool to cesspool, to the nicer places in cyberspace, to a different cesspool. *This is hell. What am I supposed to do? I ca n't scourge the internet in its entirety. This is as lost as the war on drugs. * And then he saw it. It was n't a typo, that he was sure of. This guy deliberately wrote everything wrong in a dare. *Your sur u can caught mi? Who could even come up with this shit? * It got worse. This was n't the only one. Thousands of others joined him in mockery of the new law. This is absurd. This will not be tolerated. *They must be punished* Jerry banged on his keyboard, furiously. This is what he trained all last year for. This was his moment to shine. No one escapes the law. -- -- -- -- - Reply by Jerromaniac @ 14:43 `` *Are you sure you can catch me? *. You have committed a crime. I have established your sentence to be that of mockery by peers. Users are from now on mandated to mock this individual's poor use of his native tongue. Failure to comply will result in severe, harsh punishment.'' That'd show them. That'd show them all. You ca n't just go on the internet and do that. Not anymore. Not since the law had come. *I'm the law* he grinned, feeling all too superior. *The citizens of Mega-City 1 are now safe to read internet forums again. We'll watch them, protect them, protect our language. Judge Jerry is in charge. *

[ WP ] You , a haunted house , are about to be raided by the police .

The quiet squeaky steps of my front porch have seldom been kept up. I am a brick house. My interior looks like someone from the 70's plastered their retro look on me. Baige shag carpet, green and orange wallpaper, I once felt the hustle and bustle of my tenants, but something happened ten years ago that made the first tenants leave. I do n't know if it was something I did or if it was possibly a death in the family.All I know is I was boarded up and left here. I felt at peace, I rested. It felt good to rest those ten years, but recently, some new tenants came in, I do n't remember them knocking. They filled my air ducts with smoke, and I felt the occassional burn singe into my shag carpet. They came 3 months ago. Ever since then I've felt dirty inside, like there was a grit about me. I overheard one of the tenants scream about drugs and getting high, whatever that means. It's 2am, I notice cars lining up on the block, only they are n't regular cars, they are police cruisers. Well this is embarrassing, it looks like they are looking at my lot. It has n't been kept up. I feel naked. Oh, there they are lining up... oh my it looks like they are going to break down the door with that big metal apparatus. I think this is gon na hurt.

[ WP ] It turns out quantum immortality is a fact of nature , and you 're the only person who is aware of every time you die .

I am not like the others. We have all existed since the dawn of time, forever in a constant cycle of death and rebirth. Yet they are unknowing, cut off from their previous lives. I am not so fortunate. I am forced to remember everything. Forced to remember every death, from dying in the Big Bang, to being eviscerated by knights, to dying of tuberculosis, to being riddled with bullets after an unsuccessful raid. I have lived a thousand lives, a burden which my psyche must confront daily as my mind is burdened with the trauma of my demises. And yet I feel bizarrely peaceful in the knowledge that my life is nothing but another link in an endless chain of lives I have left to live.

[ WP ] An alien race with technology far inferior to ours have somehow manage an invasion of earth .

`` Shit.'' Dr. Sam Heinz ran into the emergency room, and smelled the patient before she saw them. She knew that smell, cloyingly sweet with metallic undertones. It affected the stomach in a curious way; you could feel the scent more than you could smell it. It was not a good feeling. She rushed to the side of the gurney, pushing past the nurses who busied themselves trying to get the patient to breathe. Time seemed to slow down as Sam looked down at him, and he looked up into her eyes. His skin was blanched and had an ever slight unnatural green tint, almost imperceptible in the glaring lights of the ER. Hie eyes were sunken into his face, rimmed in black and bloodshot, oh, so bloodshot. His lips were curled back in an unintended grin, his gums swollen over his teeth. Blood seeped through his teeth in a thick bubbling stream, oozing thick from his nostrils. He made no sound other than a soft gurgling as he tried to breathe. His jaw was clenched tight and his pupils were wide and delirious. They darted around the room, unseeing, before briefly meeting with Sam's. There was no recognition, no acknowledgement. Then his eyes rolled randomly in their sockets. They moved independent of each other. Sam snapped back to her senses. `` Everyone listen to me! All of you need to get out of her RIGHT NOW!'' It took a moment for the activity in the room to lull as the nurses looked towards her. The nurses were stopped mid-activity. No one made a move to leave. `` Goddamn you, LEAVE! You ca n't stay here -'' Sam was interrupted by a loud wheezing noise, and she whirled to face the patient in horror. He had elevated his back off the gurney by his neck and feet, and he inhaled air violently, with his hands at his throat. His chest expanded as his lungs filled with air - bigger, bigger, BIGGER. Sam tried to scream for everyone to run, but it was too late. The man dropped back down, before shooting up to a sitting position. With no warning, he expelled the air from his lungs with a scream. At least, it would've been a scream, but it obfuscation was by the blood in his oesophagus. This blood and saliva sprayed out into the room in thick globs and a fine mist; the miniscule particles floating through the air to land on everyone in the room. The man stopped screaming and slumped forward on himself, before sliding limply off the gurney. Sam, covered in gore, dropped to her knees in resignation. It was too late. It was all too late. They were all infected. She did n't know with what, but they'd all be dead within three days. They'd die the same way this man did. They'd die the same way her husband did, just a day after returning from his year-long service on the International Space Station. They'd die like her daughter did, two days ago. She was going to die with them, but she knew this before she even walked into the hospital today. The only reason she came was to find a way to save herself. But it was all just... too... late. She could already smell it in her skin. That sweet, gut curdling scent that smelled like nothing else on earth.

[ WP ] A road trip story , told in postcards

David, Sorry for leaving early. I thought, if I waited for you to wake, I would loose my nerve and never leave. I'm off to save the world!! Be proud of me my love. And take care of the children. I love you. David, It's beautiful here. I wish we could have explored it together. I've tried calling, but I know how busy you are with the new job. Research is picking up here, it's too early to really say, but I feel like we are onto something big. Hope to talk to you soon. I love you. David, The rainy season has started. You would love it. Gallons of warm rain that pours down hard and heavy leaving behind that smell your always talking about. I still prefer the sun, but the rain makes me think of you, so I do n't mind it as much. We are having some of the first hiccups, some lab animals were found dead this morning. Fit as a fiddle on day, gone the next. It could have been anything really, I'm not too worried. I'll try calling again at the end of the week, maybe try and squeeze me in?? I love you. David, The lab was closed down today. Looks like I might be coming home earlier then planned. We're not sure what happened, everything was going so smoothly... We're trying to get to our data, but the suits have shown up and have gathered up most of our equipment. No one is telling us anything, they keep delaying our transport out of this god forsaken jungle... I wish you were here, you would know what to do. I love you, so very much. David, I do n't know if this will reach you. But I have to try. You must pack up Samuel and Jane and get them out of the city. Stay away from heavily populated areas and anyone connected to Central Dynamic Incorporated. Take care of our children my love. If god is good, I will find my way back to you. I may be able to stop this. I love you. More then you will ever know. Mr. David Thorn, We here at Central Dynamic Incorporated regret to inform you of the accidental death of your wife, Sophia Thorn. While on an expedition, Sophia lost control of her Humvee and crashed into an embankment, killing all passengers instantly. Your wife was a intrical part of our Genetic Engineering team and we mourn the loss of such a brilliant, hard working team member. We here at CDI hope to pay tribute to Sophia by having her work live on. We ask that any and all personal documents, files, or notes Sophia have left behind be turned into us so we may ensure Sophia's sacrifice was not in vain. For your cooperation, we are willing to grant you and your family a full pay out of Sophia's life insurance policy, plus additional support from CDI in all burial and funeral costs. We entrust you will make the right decision not only for your family, but for Sophia's memory. Sincerely, Jonathan Downs President and CEO of Central Dynamic Incorporated

[ WP ] Personify your writing style

A sleepy man - woman? It was hard to tell with all that hair and that lank figure - huddled under blankets, a cup of hot tea in their hands as they stared at the windows. Two windows, on the other side of which was a beautiful world. Full of colors, full of life, full of people. They found themselves - it found itself? - at a loss for how to describe it. The words from their - its? - lips floundered, fell, stuttered, and eventually fell silent, feeling inadequate. Piles of letters and phrases littered the floor, and it huddled deeper within its confines, burdened by an overwrought sense of divine presence overbearing its creative design. Behind, on the other side of the seat, a creature with a knife sat, slashing up words that it snatched from the floor. With eyes keen and set on destroying every misplaced syllable, it forgot its true purpose, and the shards and vowels and consonants lay fragile across the floor. A cackle left its lips as it slowly pulled'floccinoxihiliphilipication' apart, delicious symbol by symbol, before letting each one hit the floor in turn. The chuckling turned to a mad howling as the blanket suddenly found its way around the little monster, muffling it as the other being rose to its full height and strode to the windows, hands on the windows as it watched the ongoing events outside. Eyes wide, full of wonder, full lines of paper seemed to fall from its mouth in a never-ending stream of fantasy and delight. The little beast screeched and hooted, desiring so much to silence the other in its room, but could only escape once the words stopped.

[ WP ] Aliens contact humanity and express their desire to trade . A convention is organized to show the aliens what earth has to offer . No one expects what the aliens are most interested in buying .

The tension in the room was incredible. You could taste it. You could feel it bend under the intent gaze of hundreds of reporters. It was terrifying for all of us. Thousands of factories had opened up in the past few weeks under the scrutiny of the tentative alliance between the new visitors and our new unified government. The trade agreement had done a lot for us here on Earth. We are in a position where there is not war, people are people and money is everybody ’ s. We have reached a level where matters between us don ’ t matter. Money brings us all together for once. Back to the tension, see, even I ’ m trying to cut it. A single briefcase full of 5,000,000,000,000 galactic credits. Enough to push us toward standing beside some of the greatest civilizations this universe harbors. For what you ask? A contract. Those factories are for us. See, we are the only race in a million planets with opposable thumbs. And they really like My Little Pony dolls. Deal made. So many pictures. Our future first documented. Before boarding the trade ship, the thumbless beings turned around and spoke; “ Friendship is Magic ” _________ EDIT: Spelling, format, etc.

[ EU ] Scooby-Doo and the gang decide to go investigate and find out what 's really going on up in Arkham .

`` C'mon gang, let's investigate! There have to be some clues around here somewhere!'' `` But Freeeddiiiiee, this place is so creeeeepy! Not to mention it clashes with my outfit...'' `` Do n't worry Daphne, we're right on the Creeper's trail, I know it! Maybe we should split up and look for clues...'' `` I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Fred.'' `` Like, yeah, what if the C-C-C-Creeper shows up?!'' *bark! bark! * `` See, Scooby agrees with me!'' I sat up, walking over to the door of the cell and looking through the bars as best I could. Maybe... maybe these children could help me? `` Pardon!'' I shouted, knocking on my door a few times for emphasis. `` Excuse me, children? Please, come here, I'm in need of your help!'' The group that sauntered up to the door were... textbook, in a sense. Superiority Complex. Narcissism. Mild case of Autism, possible indicators of savant tendencies. Schizophrenia. Probably the only one in a relatively healthy mental state was the Great Dane, and even that assessment was mostly due to the fact that I'd never studied much animal psychology. `` Zoinks! Like, what're you doing in there, Doc?!'' the lanky schizophrenic asked. I leaned in close to the bars, whispering. I did n't want to be heard after all. `` I hate to break it to you, but I think there may be... a *madman* running around here, in a *mask and costume*! Please, let me out, I need to get the situation under control, there are some very dangerous people in this facility...'' `` A creeper in a costume? I knew it!'' Fredrick exclaimed, and I gave him the least patronizing smile I could muster. Nodding, I pointed down the hall, explaining exactly where the keys were in the office. I went into a bit of detail about the man wandering around Arkham, dressed in a terrifying guise, using fear as a weapon. He fashioned himself a professional, but in all reality he was just a disturbed man preying on the weak. `` Gosh, who woulda thought!'' the red-haired teen exclaimed, looking around nervously. `` Do you know where the flashlights are? I would n't want to get caught alone by someone like that!'' `` I certainly do,'' I replied as the door swung open, stepping out and shaking Velma's hand vigorously. As I suspected, she grew visibly uncomfortable at the sudden physical contact. `` Let me get them for all of you. I'm very grateful for the help, but, erm... who exactly are you all...?'' That was enough to let their self-proclaimed leader dominate the conversation for a few minutes, while I traced a familiar route to the western wing. Whenever he'd start losing steam, I'd simply ask another question about his constant exploits, or Velma's eidetic memory, or Scooby's intelligence. More than once the dog would yap and everyone in the group would turn to look at it. Perhaps they had some mass hallucination, because they'd act as though the brown mutt had said something profound or funny. `` Say, Doc, where are we headed, anyway?'' Fred asked, looking around at the change in scenery. No cells here, just offices and laboratories with projects sitting half-finished on tables. `` I need to fetch some things, Fredrick,'' I explained, finally finding the door I was looking for. Locked, of course. I started turning drawers upside down, looking for the keys. `` Chemicals, mostly, for taking care of the psychopath.'' Finally, after tearing apart half the offices, I found the ring that had the all-important keys on it. Stalking back to the heavy bolted door, I started trying them one by one. `` They wo n't... like... hurt him or anything, will they?'' `` Yeah, we've got great ideas for some traps we can set up to catch --'' `` No, and no.'' I replied, searching the shelves. Face cream. Joy buzzer. Green hat. Metal umbrella. `` Jinkies... what is all this stuff? They do n't look like doctor's tools!'' `` No, they're not.'' Toga. Bullwhip. Coin with a well-worn face. `` Doc... uh, why do you keep your chemicals in here?'' `` I do n't, Daphne, others do.'' Puppet with a tommy-gun. Giant rubber mallet. Top hat with a 10/6 size tag tucked into it. A-*ha*. I bent down, collecting my tools again at last. *bark! bark! * `` Answer Scooby, man, what kinda doctor are you?'' `` Hmm?'' I pulled the piece of brown burlap over my face, fixing the filter over my nose and mouth. I fiddled a second with the gloves as I stood up, no taller but a much more imposing presence. `` I'' m a psychologist, sir, I study phobias. Johnathan Crane, at your service.'' Giving it a test spray, I smiled behind the mask. Still in working order, with spare cartridges sitting right next to the gloves in the evidence room. The outfit would have to wait; I had research to conduct, after all. No shortage of subjects, either. `` So tell me... do you know true fear?'' I stared at Freddie, the only one not backing away from me on instinct. Boy still had a little fight in him. I gave raised my hand, finger on the release mechanism for the gas. ``... Would you like to?''

[ WP ] The dryer take another sock as its prisoner , but the sock is not complacent to stay as a prisoner .

It was supposed to be a routine mission. Nothing we had n't seen before. Just another cleanup round trip through the washing machine and the dryer. We'd done this a hundred times. But I guess even if you've been on the force for years they still can surprise you. The trip through the washer went without any trouble. Lev was showing off his newly patched heel during the ride. Red wool. Apparently that's the fashion nowadays. Said I should get my own looked at. Do n't see a reason to. Yea, my heel is getting sheer, but it's still holding up. I do n't trust those shrinks and tailors. Do n't like needles. Lev just grins. I always get the shivers when we enter the dryer. Call it childhood trauma, but we all got our baggage. I got used to it, but this time something is different. We are getting pushed too far off to the side. “ Lev, I do n't like this place. Smells awful lot like a trap to me ”, I mumble and pull up my cuff. “ You worry too much, Rick. Come on, partner, what could possibly go wrong? ” Lev leans back and pokes the polished metal wall of the dryer. “ They build these things to be safe. The other day I read that you are more likely to get burnt by lightning than to disappear in a dryer. ” He does n't convince me. I pull a bundle of fluff from my pocket and start chewing on it. Old habits die hard. Then we start spinning. I try not to think about it. I need to distract myself. “ So how's your patched heel holding up? ”, I ask. No answer. “ Lev? ” I turn to look at him, but his space is empty. “ LEV! ” Hectically, I scan the area. My world is spinning. Literally. Suddenly I spot something. A thin thread of red, caught in a gap of the drum. I give it a closer look. It's good quality wool, and the same color as Lev's new fucking patch. “ Shit. ” I look down into the gap. Darkness. “ Lev? Are you down there? ” The thread twitches. Without further thought, I jump into the darkness. When I come back to my senses, every single one of my threads hurt. I think some of them might be ruptured. I check my heel. Still sheer, but no permanent damage. So far so good. I try to get my bearings. Where the hell am I? I ca n't see a damn thing. I hear the rumbling hum of the dryer above me. I must have slipped into the bowels of the beast. It is pitch black. I feel something lying on the ground. Lev's thread. I grab it and crawl forward. The place is cramped, the air is hot and wet. Slowly I adjust to the darkness. I can see pipes and eagerly turning gears. Steam hits my gusset, but I crawl onward. Suddenly, the ground disappears beneath my foot and I fall again. The landing is soft. Softer than I'd like. A bad feeling grips me. Bodies. Heaps of them. I hear a moan. “ Lev? ” Silence. I carefully pat the ground beneath me. “ Rick? ” I hear a weak voice whisper. “ Lev! Buddy, I am coming for you! ” Frantically I start clawing my way towards the faint sound. Then I find him. He is leaning against the wall, limp and barely holding up. “ Rick. Rick, they got me. ” “ Do n't talk now, I got ta patch you up. I'll get you outta here. ” “ No, it's too late for that. I'm sorry. ” He shifts and so I can see his heel. My voice fails. His side is torn open all the way from cuff to foot. “ They got me good. ” He tries to laugh, but he only coughs out loose threads. “ Real shame about the wool. ” “ You ca n't do this to me! We are a team god dammit! Do n't you dare chicken out now! ” “ You were right all along, Rick. This place is a deathtrap. You have to- ” He breaks off, coughing up more threads. “ You have to put an end to this. ” I grimace. “ Promise me. ” Then he goes limp. Even more so than before. I get up. Time to end this. I look up at the twisting gears and spit a ball of fluff at it. The gnawing metal teeth eagerly dig into it. The machine halts for a moment, chokes but then the gears rip the fine threads apart and the dryer roars to life again. I sigh. Looks like I'll need something tougher. I find myself a new ball of fluff to chew and start running towards the twisting gears. I'm no use without a partner anyway. I'm coming for you, Lev.

[ WP ] A group of fantasy characters finding themselves in the ruins of modern Earth .

The Door of Dimensions loomed before the nervous party. Its intricate orange patterns swirled back and forth, not tethered to normal space, normal reality. Soon, the party would enter the ancient gateway, into an unknown world. The Door had been discovered eons ago. For as long as anyone could remember, the bravest of adventurers had led expeditions through it. Every time a group entered the Door, they found themselves in a new, unexplored world. When you entered the door, you either came back rich and glorious, or you did n't come back. Their party, the Crimson Banners, was one of the few adventuring companies to have not yet led an expedition through the ancient portal. They had done everything there was to do in their homeland of Esper. Led by the mighty human Paladin, Garon Godstrong, the Crimson Banners had slain dragons, conquered ancient dungeons, and performed great feats for many years. However, the task that lay before them was a new one. It had been an arduous and taxing journey to reach the Door of Dimensions. The week long trek up the steep mountain pass was said to weed out those not worthy of launching an expedition into another world. The Crimson Banners, however, had not become known as the champions of death by sheer luck. For the experienced crew, the journey proved easy. When at last the band of allies reached the peak, their aging elven Wizard, Mastrae, immediately began to perform the ancient rite required to open the glowing doors. As he chanted in a long forgotten language, the weight of what was awaited them settled upon the party. A nervous quip was heard from the timid gnome Rogue, Dumpkins, just before the great stone slabs slid open, revealing the swirling chaos behind. A brief word of encouragement from Garon, and the party stepped forward. Immediately, they were surrounded by an indescribable chaos. Up was down, left was right. Colors and smells and sounds mixed in a confused vortex. After what seemed like an eternity, the terrified party felt their feet hit solid ground. Decades of training led them to immediately snap to their senses, analyzing their surroundings. However, doing so only left them more confused. They were standing on a hard grey stone with lines painted on it. There was grass surrounding them, but it was the deadened brown of winter plants, despite the moderate temperature. In the distance there were towers made of thin struts, with barely visible ropes running between them. To one side, they could see a bulbous structure, with a sloped base, and a large sphere at the top, made of some nondescript white material. Looking at eye level, they saw a row of buildings. The buildings were clearly made by more skilled hands than those who had created the hamlets and villages the group was used to. They were made of the same strange material, but in varying shades of garish blues, yellows, and pinks.They had the shingle roofs normally reserved for only the richest of nobles. Yet, despite craftsmanship that even the grandiose High Elves would envy, the houses were clearly in disrepair. Some of them were collapsed, others had walls blown out, and the plants were in a state akin to a gardener's worst nightmare. The stone they stood on was cracked and ruined. There were hunks of curvy metal with circles at their bases stood at the edge of the road here and there. Strangest of all was the structure planted right in the middle of the streets. Made of a haywire collection of materials, it stood at an almost physics defying angle. A poorly made gate stood at the front. The confused and scared party approached it, then ducked down for cover when they heard voices from inside. Two men seemed to be talking. Quieting themselves down for a moment, the party strained their ears, attempting to hear what they said, in an attempt to find out what was going on. One sentence came to them clearly. & nbsp; & nbsp; `` General, another settlement is in need of our help''

[ WP ] You discovered a long time ago that you have the ability to change other people 's emotions at will . Describe your daily life .

The alarm clock next to me blared it's loud, obnoxious sound, greeting me in it's own way to the new morning. I shut the clock off with a forceful slap of my hand, it was another day in hell. `` Good morning, dear!'' My wife called from outside the bedroom. She was cheerful as ever, cheerful as always, I could barely remember the last time I saw her sad. `` Good morning, father!'' The twins said in unison, as I entered the kitchen. My breakfast of freshly cooked bacon and eggs was still steaming. `` Morning, everyone.'' I said solemnly, I picked at the eggs until the yolk burst and the yellow goo started mixing with my plate. My wife caught me at the door before I left for the day. `` Anything wro- Have a fantastic day!'' her concern was appreciated but unnecessary, I had hoped the change would `` stick'' like it had with all the others but she was always stronger than the rest. Maybe, that's why I still loved her, with what little love I still possessed. My commute was the same as always, the train passengers performed a rendition of `` Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go'' I smiled and clapped along as I usually did. It was crap though, Joey, from Water & Power was a little flat, like he had been for the past 5 years. No matter how hard I tried I could n't motivate him into some singing lessons. I guess that was n't part of my powers. The receptionist greeted me with that same fake smile that she gave me the first day I enter Dr. Kapowitz's office. It had struck me as so false, so plastic, that I decided she'd wear that same look every time I saw her. I guess it reminded me of my own smile. `` Hello! James! Another beautiful morning is n't it? So what're we talking about today?'' The Doc said in that same overly cheerful tone, as she picked up her notepad and started taking notes before I had even spoke. `` I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up. I saw so much sadness and pain in all of you and it made me feel terrible. When I learned I could do something about it, that I could change people's emotions, I felt like a god. I had control over everything. Emotions are powerful motivators. Of course I did it all for myself, I made everyone feel happy because of how sad I felt. I figured that over time I too, would become cheerful. That was 20 years ago. Seems to me like the only person whose emotions I can not control, are my own.''

[ WP ] A Man , a Broom , and the End of the World

''It's the end of the World!'' Mario screamed while punching the wall in our locker room. ''It's not buddy, relax. Time will pass, it will go away'' I knew my words mea n't nothing but I had to pretend they did. ''It wo n't go away! Not something like this!'' He said while still punching. He must of had a few broken knuckles by now. I did n't know what else to say. These things happened every year, in every school across the country. You laugh at it when it's some stranger's story on a blog, but when it's your best friend... Hazing was a common tradition for football teams but that did n't mean things could n't cross the limit. A broomstick in the ass? What was the point of that? It was just one man and one broom. But for Mario, it was enough to be the end of his world.

[ WP ] One day almost everyone gets powers . At lunch your co-workers brag about their new found abilities and realize that you never said anything about yours . When asked , you lie that you do n't have any when in reality it is quite terrifying . And you love it .

I watched as Kevin made the small flame dance across the tabletop to the delight of everyone who watched. `` That's awesome Kev.'' I said as he snuffed out the small flame. The small crowd that had gathered around to see Kevin show off his newfound power groaned with disappointment and begun discussing their own experiences. Ever since the human race had been changed in the event, everybody developed a power by the time they were twenty-one. Some were major, some were minor, and some were useless. But everyone was regulated. Those who refused went rogue, and had to deal with the big guys. `` What did the examiners say?'' Said Stacey, sitting down at the table. As always, she had several flowers interwoven into her hair. Each one was pointed toward the window. Stacey could control plants, make them grow, make them move, some people said she was actually part plant. `` They think my powers will grow, they said to come back in a few years, as it is I ca n't make a flame much bigger than my hand for now!'' Kevin said, igniting a small fire ball in his hand again. Without warning a torrent of water bounced across the table, literally bounced, before splashing over Kevin's hand and extinguishing his flame, not to mention soaking the entire table. `` Hey!'' Kevin said, looking towards the culprit. Laughing, Brad strode towards the group and sat down with a flop, water twirling around his wrist in a constant stream. He always kept a little bit of water on his body, mostly for pranks. `` Pft. So you can light candles now, big deal. You'll probably never advance beyond that!'' `` Jerk.'' Said Kevin. But he was smiling. I smiled too. It was unlikely that any of my friends would be placed into duty for the Establishment, but that was fine, that way they would n't be hurt. Their powers were minor, so they were allowed to roam free. Stacey turned to me suddenly, ignoring the small wrestling match that had broken out between Kevin and Brad. `` You must be excited huh Drew?'' `` What do you mean?'' I said. `` Well you turn 21 next month right? You should be getting your power any day now.'' `` Hey that's right!'' Said Kevin, who had Brad in a headlock. `` Any idea what it might be?'' `` Oh, I guess I had n't really thought about it.'' I said, smiling. `` What!?'' said Brad, pushing Kevin away. `` How can you not think about it?'' `` I dunno, I've been busy lately?'' All three of my friends looked at me like I was insane. I simply smiled. After all how could they know that I already had my powers. That my examination was falsified every year, because technically, I did n't exist. I went rogue. My power manifested itself at 16. And when the inspectors came around for my first test at 17, I killed them. Because you see my power is different, my power comes from a darker god than theirs. With a simple touch, I can take. Take anything, take everything. Your mind, your looks, your memories, your voice, your sight, the air from your lungs, the cells in your brain, the blood from your veins, your power. I can remove them, I can keep them. So far I've remade my face three times, and I have taken the powers of those who have come to find out mine. And disposed of any who came close. I have been 20 for over 5 years, each year with a new face, new blood, new body, new cells, new powers. So far I'm bulletproof, I can teleport, and following a truly spectacular fight, I can control the weather. I do n't age, but maybe this year I will. Maybe this year I stop hiding. But first I think I'll see how strong Kevin's power gets. Fire sounds fun.

[ WP ] In a dystopian future , doctors are expected to euthanize sick patients . You 're the first in a hundred years to save someone .

I looked him straight in the eyes, only a young man though he looked much older. I could see the fear in his eyes almost accepting his fate. `` I'm sorry... its just the way things are.'' I said grimly. He must have noticed my cold tone. It was n't that I did n't care, I could n't care. This part of the job became second nature. Part of the routine. Doctors worldwide adopted the policy at the turn of the 22nd century. `` I understand but I'm sure there is something you can do... we can just keep it between us right?'' He stuttered desperately. I handed him a pamphlet titled `` Accepting Death'' a standard procedure for all my patients. The role of doctors changed over the years. When I was a child they were known as protectors, carers and people who would help you and make you feel better. It all changed after the Crop Wars. There is never going to be enough food to feed the masses. We can no longer take care of the sick. `` I can talk you through it after you have had a moment to clear your head.'' I said calmly stepping out to give the man some space. He glanced up from the pamphlet, tears in his eyes. `` Okay. Just give me 5 minutes'' He said softly with a somewhat forced smile. I closed the door behind me and went out the back for a cigarette. The damp humid air would n't keep me outside for long. Before I could inhale the last drag I heard a crash followed by the sounds of shattering glass. I immediately tossed the cigarette but into the alley and flung open the metal door to return to my office. Before I had a chance the young man pushed his way passed, his strength overpowering me, pushing me to ground. `` You are n't authorised to leave! You need to come back or I'll call the police!'' Shouted the nursed clearly distressed. I regained my breath and stood up preparing to give chase, knowing an escaped patient would likely be the end of my career. I ran through the damp dreary alley way towards the bus stop on the corner of the street. The man, despite suffering from an illness had far more stamina than myself as he slowly gained a greater lead. My luck turned when a passing peace officer noticed the scuffle and pulled his vehicle in front of the young man. Just like that it was over. The man was no match for the strength of a government officer. He was wrestled the ground with a boot pressed into his face. `` He one of yours?'' The the officer asked sternly. I looked down at the man and I felt something I had n't felt in years. Empathy. This man was n't the tyrant government propaganda portrayed the sick as. He was somebodies brother, husband and son. `` He... is a friend of mine. We just had a little disagreement.'' I lied. I could n't let this man be imprisoned and likely tortured to save my own ass. `` We'll get your friend back inside I ca n't have people running around thee streets like that.'' The office loosened his grip and nudged the mans limp body towards the kerb. As the officer left the man looked up at me. `` Why did you do that? You could have ended up in jail?'' `` I can help you... I ca n't keep living this way'' I stammered. `` Help me what? Escape?'' He replied. `` No I can help save you, we have the medicine. I know it's breaking the law but someone needs to make changes. It was n't always this way.'' `` You mean you can actually cure me? I do n't have to die?'' Hope filled his eyes, his face lit up with an almost cautious joy. `` Doctors used to be healers. Believe me... there was a reason I choose this profession and it was n't to end lives... there was once a time where we saved them'' I grabbed the mans hand and slowly walked him back to the office. `` You will have to come with me, there is no safety at the office. They will always be watching over me'' I said I took the man into my car I knew it was n't going to be an easy mission. But if there is going to be any change in the world, if I am going to make a difference. I have to change the world one patient at a time. And it starts today.