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[ OT ] SatChat : I can be your ( writing ) hero !
| David Foster Wallace is my writing hero. He went to school with my aunt and they were good friends. She ( my aunt ) is best friends with his sister.
I've also met several authors. I've met J.K. Rowling ( we actually used to be penpals ), Elie Wiesel, Lemony Snicket ( who I saw when he narrated his children's book/symphony *The Composer is Dead* and who told my 15 year old sister as he signed our books `` That's amazing! I've never met a healthy fifteen year old! `` ), Stephenie Meyer ( I had a phase ). David Foster Wallace is still my hero.
Quotes!
`` I'm like everyone else - I see the world in terms of what I would like to see happen, not what actually does.''
- The Alchemist
`` Do you ever feel like [ a ] puzzle piece? If you do, paradoxically, you are probably not alone.''
-a French professor in college
`` Do deaf schizophrenics still hear voices?''
-Ismet Prcic, Shards
“ Logical validity is not a guarantee of truth. ”
― David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest
“ It's weird to feel like you miss someone you're not even sure you know. ”
― David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest
`` Love is not something you think about, it is a state in which you dwell.''
- Christopher Moore
`` Maybe [ God ]'s not omnipotent. He's just been around so long he knows everything.''
-Groundhog Day
`` You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep other people warm''
Also plug for my subreddit r/Celsius232. Come read about a school for thieves: )
|
[ CW ] You have discovered the journals of war survivors ( any military conflict in history ) . Tell me what was written in them .
| War has a funny way of changing a man. The way it completely strips you down to your most basic elements, and threatens to unhinge your entire mental well being. Each bullet fired, shell dropped, and bomb exploded, takes away a little bit of your soul. Until finally, you are left naught but an empty shell. Screaming, blood, death, cordite fill your soulless body. You become the human manifestation of death. Each trigger pull becomes easier, each kill more fulfilling. You are a machine of the state, an instrument of their will. And like any instrument, you can break. You'll become meaningless to them, and tossed aside for another. It's just a matter of time before you break. Something has to give. It could be your mind, your life, or your limbs. But it's gon na happen eventually.
-- The last entry of a Canadian soldier on the Western front, 1917
|
[ WP ] It 's your first day working at the antique shop . The owner told you `` Do n't worry . Everything 's just a little haunted . '' You 're starting to see that that was an understatement .
| `` Hey!''
`` Shut up.''
`` Heeeyyy.''
`` No, seriously, leave me alone.''
`` Whatcha dooooooOOOOiin?''
`` I'm trying to work, mate. Bugger off.''
`` ppbbbtttttt.'' The child ghost gayly floats off to another room continuing his raspberry until it grows faint.
`` You should n't be so hard on the child.''
`` Shut up, grandma. Seriously, I'm just trying to do inventory here, I do n't need the distractions.''
`` Honestly, Jimmy, I do n't understand how you have such a temper. My son and your mother took good care of you, did n't they? I ca n't imagine that they've raised such a grump!''
`` Nana... I love you... but that `` child'' has been a child for almost 3 decades. I think he can handle it. So, please, let me finish my work here or I'm tossing your dress out and you'll have to haunt the dumpster.''
`` OH! Well I NEVER!'' The bloated ghost grandma dissipates, like a popped balloon, muttering how children now-a-days have grown to be so disrespectful.
Jimmy, finally expecting some peace and quiet, continues counting the line of clocks on his desk. He marks down their condition and their price and places them in a box. The next clock seems to be an alarm clock from the 60s. As he looks it over another ghost, with a friendly smile, forms in front of his desk.
“ Hate to be a bother, James. ”
“ Mr. Henderson, I ’ m a bit busy right now. ”
“ I know, I know, but that ’ s Doris ’ clock, see? And it ’ s looking a bit dusty… would you mind giv- “
“ I ’ ll give a quick dust before I put it back up on the shelves, Mr. Henderson, don ’ t worry. ” Jimmy places the clock, gently, in the box.
“ I ’ ll just stay here to make sure then. ” Said the old ghost as he drifted up in the corner.
The next clock Jimmy picks up seems to be almost identical to the last but of a different color. Jimmy hadn ’ t seen this one before. Must ’ ve just come in, he thought.
“ Hey buddy. ” A new voice.
Jimmy looked up to see a ghost who must ’ ve been an attractive teen whilst living. “ You ’ re new, my name ’ s Jimmy. ”
“ Want to see a neat trick? ”
“ um, sure? ”
The ghost proceeded to pick up Mr. Henderson ’ s clock from the box.
“ A ghost that can actually interact with things. ” Jimmy said, thinking out loud, “ fascinating. ”
Mr. Henderson piped in “ Be careful with that, son! ”
Jimmy had started to raise out of his chair, intrigued by the new development. Ghosts could make themselves seen and heard, never had he seen one that was able to interact physically. “ Where ’ d you learn to do that? ”
“ oops! ” The clock dropped. Mr. Henderson let out a wail, “ NOOOOO- “
His scream was cut short as the clock shattered to the ground. Mr. Henderson, in an instant, blinked out of existence.
Jimmy stared wide-eyed with his jaw-dropped. “ What did you just do?! ”
“ I got rid of him for you, you need to work right? Well, now he won ’ t bother you anymore. ”
“ but… ”
“ You said something about a dress? Be right back… ” And the ghost phased through a wall. Jimmy was still in shock and caught himself staring at the clock pieces on the ground. Everything had happened so fast, he didn ’ t quite know how to react. All of a sudden, his grandmother had returned. A look of absolute fear on her face.
“ Jimmy, the dress! ”
Jimmy heard the sound of fabric beginning to rip in the distance.
“ WAIT! ” Screamed Jimmy “ NANA!! NOOOOOOOO ”
|
[ WP ] A man lucid dreams about being with a girl that he 's been crushing on . This helps build his confidence to ask her out and they eventually end up together . But later on the guy starts having trouble separating details from his dreams and reality , threatening the relationship .
| The street corner that housed the Sunlight Cafe always had a regular flow of people coming and going. There was n't even one point of the day that seemed busier or slower than the rest. Cars and cabs honked and coasted their way through the crowded street and pedestrians weaved through them as they hurried to their undisclosed destinations.
Wallace always waited here. It was the third table to the left, next to a hanging basket of bright red flowers he never bothered to learn the name of. It was dawn, and the sun was slowly peeking it's rays of orange across a sleepy blue and purple sky.
Things were right on schedule. If thy did n't go exactly the same each time, he might as well give up again. He carefully arranged his now empty cup of Earl Grey on the edge of the table, and leaned back into the black wrought iron cafe chair.
The waitress would eventually emerge from the cafe, her clumsy hands grasping Wallace's cup and shattering it across the moss-covered brick ground. She would bend down to grab the bigger shard and he would stand up to help. His arm would fling out, and grasp smooth, warm skin. He would look up.
Standing on the other side of the back cafe fence to the outdoor patio was Sofia. Sofia Wright.
Her wide brown eyes are shocked, but not unwelcoming. Instead, they are warm coffee-colored pools inviting him in; pulling him closer. He never resisted.
Wallace never liked repeating what always happened afterwards. It's a memory only repeated by him. But the only thing he would reveal was how lucky it was his flat was just above the cafe. After an amount of time he also never revealed, Sofia would look out of the wide flat windows, her periwinkle dress flowing and curving with her every move.
Around this time he woke up. He would leave this dream he had created and formulated. It was all planned. But right when he was about to wake she always said it.
Her lips would part, her melodic voice filling the sweet air of his little corner of his universe. `` It's a tune that only caged birds know.''
He knew she would say it this time. Because she always did. But he had never heard it until his first night of this.
Since then, he had searched and searched but seemed at a loss. Eventually, the significance of that sentence was lost to time once Wallace and gained his courage enough to talk to Sofia. And once the dreams finally became reality. Well, almost reality.
There still was no cafe or street corner he knew of that existed like that. And his own flat was far from a fairy tale. Unless the fairy tale was Cinderella. There were plenty of rat friends for Wallace to become acquainted with.
He moved himself onto his side on his bed, listening to the sounds of crass construction workers shouting orders at one another. But he did n't mind the sounds because of what he always saw. It was her. And she was really sleeping in his bed. He reached out a hand and softly brushed her hair to the side. Her eyes fluttered open.
`` Wallace,'' She moaned, `` We've talked about the excessive touching.''
Sofie was the best thing to happen to him. But she was n't his dream girl. He had realized that after a few months of dating her and his lucid dreams continued; he needed to bring his fantasy back to life.
Sofie slurped things always to loudly, she did n't like personal displays of affection, and sometimes she was downright moody and looking to fight with anyone and Wallace hated that.
He could tell this day was another one of her moody mornings so he got dressed and went for a walk. He needed his head cleared. He spent about two hours sitting on a small park bench by a lake.
He loved Sofie. He really did. He knew they fought but every couple does. He knew there were things even she did n't like about her. He could be too hard on her to do something with her life, he was impatient, and his laugh was too loud and weird. But life without Sofie was impossible.
When he returned, Sofie was sitting on the edge of the bed. They did n't live together, but still her belongings that had found a place in his apartment for almost a year were packed away in her bag laying by her feet. She had been crying.
When Wallace walked up to her, she lifted up her phone that was resting in her lap and pressed play. A mournful song filled the room
`` if you love her let her go, it's a tune that only caged birds know''
The phone screen read the title of the song: My Love Goes Free
It was his song. Or her song. Regardless, it was the song she quoted to him in his dreams. But Sofie did n't know about this...
`` I dreamed about this song last night. About us.'' Sofie said. `` Wallace, jut let me go.''
She stood up. And left.
The Sunglight Cafe was always the same. The busy city street remained popular and crowded. He planned it all out once more. The waitress dropped his cup and when he stood out, his hand caught her.
Her eyes were the color of vibrant green grass and her tumbling dark hair was the rich earth. Her smile warmed the whole city. Lucy Davis. Wallace was certain to get it right this time.
|
[ WP ] The all-too-predicatble zombie outbreak happens , but rather than a virus that spawns cardboard cutout zombies , you have a frightening realization : all things undead , including vampires , werebeasts , demons , imps and everything else terrifying , are also coming to life .
| `` It all started with that damn cairn. I had been walking in the old wood when I stumbled upon it. I thought it was just a pile of stones overgrown with weeds'' Dean shrugged.
The woman looked at Dean sternly. `` Okay, what happened next?''
`` You know ma'am you still have n't told me your name. In fact you have n't told me anything. One moment I'm running from hell spawn, the next I'm waking up tied to a chair with a gun in my face. How do I know I can trust you?''
`` My name is Cassie.''
`` Yeah you expect me to believe that?''
`` Do you expect me to believe you're name is really Dean? Just tell me what happened with the cairn before I put a bullet somewhere unpleasant.''
`` Okay, okay just calm down I'm getting to that! Anyways, all I did was clear away all the brush. And I walked 6 sunwise circles around it.''
Cassie let out a groan and put her gun down on a small table. `` And just why would you do that?!''
Dean shrugged, `` well because nothing happened the first three times and I thought maybe I did n't do it enough!''
Cassie furrowed her brow in frustration and rubbed her temples. With a sigh she asked him, `` noooo why walk around it at all?''
Dean, without breaking character shrugged again and said, `` oh just curious I suppose.''
``.....just curious.....''
`` Yep.''
`` You suppose...''
`` Yeah that's all there is to It.''
`` Bullshit.''
`` Okay maybe... Maybe I thought it would create a portal to another dimension full of otherworldly treasures and knowledge.''
`` Bullshit!'' Cassie picked the gun back up and aimed it directly are Deans head.
Dean did his best to move his head out of the way, but he had forgotten he was restrained. `` No really! I read it in a bad scify story once! Or maybe it was an old legend. I do n't know. I did n't think demons would come pouring out and infect the world!''
`` How come you did n't get killed when the portal opened?''
`` It was n't open when I was there. Nothing happened after I completed the last circle. I looked at it in bemusement, shrugged, and the continued on my walk.''
`` Where did you go after you left the cairn?!''
`` Listen Cass. Can I call you Cass? I do n't know what you guys did to knock me out but it really did a number on me. Let's talk after I take a........nap..... Yeah.'' With that Deans head fell forwards. Cassie prodded him with her foot. Them slapped him across the face. `` Dean wake up!''
A voice came on over the radio in her helmet. `` Inquisitor, how is the interrogation proceeding?'' `` Better than expected sir, he's a fountain of information...'' `` Excellent. I expect a full report when you are finished.'' `` Yes sir, Cassandra out.''
As Cassie turned her mic off she turned and knocked on a door. `` Ramirez get a fucking medic in here ASAP! Looks like this ones gon na be out for a while.''
`` Yes sir! Uh... I mean ma'am!'' Ramirez turned and jogged down the hallway muttering to himself, `` geez you do n't have to be a fucking bitch about it.'' A voice came on over Ramirez radio, `` I heard that!''
`` Fuck!''
|
[ WP ] Write a story about saying goodbye to someone or something you love .
| `` You know, I really thought we'd share one last dance together at the festival,'' said Kenneth. `` The lights, the music, all those foods.'' He laughed. `` You even ate my own portions. I wondered if you were n't eating enough at home.''
The morning sky was dark and cloudy. It looked like it would rain soon. The wind had also started to pick up, dropping the already cold morning temperature even further.
Kenneth did n't mind. He merely put up the collar of his coat before he continued talking.
`` You waited for me...'' he said. `` You waited for me for such a long time. That promise you made me when I left. I thought you would n't keep it. I did n't expect you to. But still, you really did wait for me.''
From his pocket, Kenneth took a small silver locket. It was one of the only possessions he had that he never let go.
`` Do you remember this?'' he asked. `` You said to take this with me wherever I go. So that I would remember you always, and that you demanded that I give it back to you personally once I returned.'' He chuckled. `` That audacity of yours... I suppose it was why you never wanted to leave this place.''
Kenneth felt his heart grow heavy. He could still remember that memory fresh in his mind like they were yesterday. The feelings he had of then were not of joy. Having to part ways so soon was unforeseen, but it needed to be done. Just as what he needed to do now needs to be done.
`` Just as I promised, I'm here to give this back.'' He knelt over and placed it just beneath the gravestone. The words written in the stone has long since faded to time, much like the entire graveyard in that place. In fact, the entire town that had once been there had been abandoned so many years ago.
`` Helen, my journey is at an end,'' said Kenneth as he stood up and smiled at her gravestone. `` The last battle will happen in a few day's time. Whatever the outcome, I know full well that I wo n't live to see it. And so, I've come to say goodbye once more...''
Kenneth felt a rain drop on his head. He stared at the sky, which began to increasingly drop more down.For some reason, a relieved smile spread across his face.
``... Or perhaps I should've waited until I could say hello?''
|
[ WP ] All of humanity is wiped out and you are the only human left . You browse reddit for the last time and see : `` I am Death . AMA
| You never saw me coming
Although it must've been
Easy looking back
To see me looking in.
I waited long and quiet,
Waited sad and true.
For every single one of them
Were wrong except for you.
Now here we are just you and me
Anomaly though you are.
Rules are rules I must allow
Your presence here afar.
The rest are gone to rest forever
Within that server in the sky
Uploaded there eternally cared for
But you were just too sly.
So now we stay a breath away
So go ahead and try
Ask me anything you dare
And see if I reply.
|
[ WP ] Whenever someone ca n't sleep , it 's actually because there 's an enemy nearby , they just do n't realise as there 's no prompt like in a video game .
| Steve just stared at the ceiling. He had had a terrible day. He went to the mines today, to find riches and materials to build himself better tools and gear. However, he founs something else lurking deep down there. It was both a man and monster. A terrible sight. A blue pair of pants made out of rotten meat, a green shirt riddled with blood, and those eyes... White hit anger in them. Thirst for blood. His blood.
He would mever forget those eyes...
He just could n't forget em, could n't sleep because he saw them in front of him, then he opened his eyes...
|
[ EU ] [ WP ] You are a competitive Pokemon trainer and you come across Ash Ketchem and his gang on their travels . Trainer code dictates a battle if trainers lock eyes .
| It was a typical Saturday night for me. My buddies and I were hanging out in the caves when this total nerd came by. This was going to be too easy. I was staring right at the entrance, there was no way he'd be able to walk by without crossing my path. He spent the better part of a half hour zapping Zubats before reaching me but then it was battle time!
The nerd sent out his Pikachu first. I sent out my Voltorb. This would be no contest.
`` Voltorb! Self-destruct!'' I commanded.
My loyal minion obeyed and a blinding light erupted as he sacrificed his life to smite my enemies. When the light faded I was surprised to discover my foe's Pikachu was still standing. A little bruised but still able to fight. This is just where I wanted him. Time for step two of my plan.
`` Voltorb! Get in there!'' I yelled as my second Voltorb entered the melee.
This nerd did n't think he'd have to face two Voltorbs in a single battle. I bet he is peeing his pants as we speak.
`` Voltorb! Self-destruct!''
With an even more massive blast my second Voltorb exploded. Flesh and sinew flew across the cave. To my horror, it was only my Voltorb's flesh however. The Pikachu was still standing there. How could this have happened? My plan was flawless!
I paid the man money to go away and spent the rest of the night weeping.
|
[ WP ] Your pet is called upon to deliver the eulogy at your funeral
| The rain bore down heavily that Friday afternoon, the clouds like a grey tarp strewn over a dreary, deadened sky. People dressed all in black shuffled in a blur like specters through the fog, into the funeral home where they were to pay their respects.
`` Michael always hated the rain,'' Anna said to no one in particular. `` He always preferred to stay inside when it was like this.''
The people continued to filter in, past the closed casket and roses and lilies left behind by other people, some of whom his sister never knew. Anna knew that the people gathering were going to wait for her to begin a speech at some point, something heartfelt, possibly uplifting.
She had to wait, though. Her brother wrote explicitly in his will:
> *If I should die, I want my cat to deliver my eulogy before anyone else does. He knew me best of all. *
The people continued to shuffle in, and the rain continued to pound away at the roof of the hall. It came to a point where it was all she could hear.
And halfway across town in a house where all the lights were off, there stood at an open door one poor, miserable little creature who could do nothing more than stare at the rain as it came down in front of him. The fur on his head was wet, as though he had tried to poke his head out into the storm several times before retreating back into the safe alcove of his doorway; each time the bells on his collar jingled against his nametag.
`` Michael always hated the rain.'' Anna said to herself, standing up in front of the crowd and making her way to the casket. `` Sorry, brother. I doubt he'll make it out the door.''
|
[ WP ] `` I 'm sure we 'll see each other again soon . ''
| It is Thursday, raining and cold like so many days in your past where you couldn ’ t even bring yourself to get out of bed. Days that a younger version of yourself loathed because, even if you loved the wet and soggy ground, the crisp air made every fallen drop sting your skin with a sharp chill. Not cold enough for snow.
It is Thursday and I wake up to the sound of that rain which I can hear even over the alarm on my cell phone. There you are beside me. Asleep.
Sleeping deeply like you always do, unaffected by the sounds because that ’ s just how you are. For some reason, you just never did care about the noises and I, a man who stirs at the hushed whistle of passing wind, always envied that fairly practical trait. But I ’ m not happy like I used to be when I ’ d see your peaceful face pressed gracelessly into the pillow beside me -- located on the left half of the bed due to claims that you just couldn ’ t sleep on the right. Like there was something about it that was different.
I ’ m not happy because I know what this day holds.
Yesterday was the worst day of my life and so was the day before that. And perhaps the day before that, as well. In fact, if it were possible for a number of consecutive days to all be the worst day of your life, each day neither more or less horrible than the rest, I would say that this past year has been the worst day of my life.
We get up and go to breakfast and you order pancakes which doesn ’ t surprise me. The waitress, she smiles at your smile because it ’ s so contagious that even the man two tables down who always looks at you -- which doesn ’ t bother me by the way -- smiles as well. His tight lipped grin always goes away when he sees me notice.
But it happens early today. I don ’ t know if that makes today notably better or worse than yesterday. You finish your breakfast and insist on taking a walk around this foreign town, which doesn ’ t surprise me any more than the fact that you had to order bananas in your pancakes or the fact that the waitress drops the saucer of real maple syrup.
I pretend this is all new to me. I feign interest in wondrous landmarks that I ’ ve been staring at for over a year just so you can be happy.
Just in case today is the last day.
And then you crouch over to tie your shoe. And then a car comes. While you're in my arms straining for each and every breath, I tell you, “ I ’ m sure we ’ ll see each other soon. ”
It is Thursday, raining and cold, like each and every day before. And you ’ re still next to me, mouth open and inhaling against the pillow case. And, like every other worst day of my life, I wonder how you ’ ll die today.
|
[ TT ] Every Halloween , the ... thingy ... comes out to prey upon mortals .
| Six days. Six more fucking days. And then it'll come.
It wasn ’ t always like this. There was a time when I was able to dress up and walk around the neighborhood, pillowcase in tow, collecting as much candy as I could before my curfew.
Yes, there was a time when Halloween was *fun*.
After a time, candy collecting evolved to going to house parties, getting drunk, getting laid, having a good time, and either passing out somewhere on the floor there or stumbling home, blissfully unaware of any deep, dark, danger, only afraid of flashing lights, blue uniforms, and shiny badges.
But now? Now it ’ s different. Now Halloween has become something of a phobia for me. Now I hug the corners tight, always facing outwards, eyes wide alert for any sudden movement around me. When I see cops I walk towards them gratefully, breathing short sighs of relief. Light too. I plan my walks to that they go down the most lighted streets. I jump from beam to beam like an insane person. And maybe I am. But I ’ ve seen it…and you would be too.
It ’ s this…indescribable…*thing*.
Look, I know how this sounds, but bear with me. I didn ’ t believe Paul either when he told me. I remember thinking he was just too fuckin ’ high. I mean, you know Paul. He did that sometimes. I thought he was too high and played too much Dark Souls.
He came up to me at Steph ’ s party and pushed me aside, that wild, paranoid look in his red, red eyes. He was terrified. I tried to laugh and shrug him off. He reeked. His breath reeked. But he pushed me back and whispered about this…*thing* to me, this evil, stalking *thing*.
And I was like, “ Whoa, dude, calm the fuck down. What are you even talking about? You stuck in Dark Souls again? ”
He pushed my face back. His hands goddamn stank of pussy or dick or, I don ’ t know, shit.
At this point, I was annoyed as hell. He was starting to make a scene.
He said to me, he said, “ Luce. Lucy. Promise me. Promise me that you ’ ll take The Thing. Promise me that you ’ ll take it away from me. ”
I cringed, shoving him away. His breath was literal death. Like he ate a rotting corpse inside and out and then licked the corpse of a skunk in his morbid excitement.
And I said to him, I said, “ Yeah, sure, man, whatever. Just get off of me…and take a fucking bath. ”
Never saw him again after that. Well, I did, once, across campus, but I can ’ t be sure it was him.
That was the Last Fun Halloween. Every October after that some *thing* stalked me. It came out in peeks and pips here and there at the start of the month, but the closer it got to the dreaded day it didn ’ t even try to hide and would follow me openly, whispering shadowy secrets in my ear.
I tried to ignore it, shake it off as some weird figment of my subconscious, drown it out with music and Netflix, and I was able to, for a while. But, last Halloween, it grew comfortable with me, too comfortable.
I was sitting there, trying to concentrate on the next episode of the show I was watching, totally alone in my locked and bolted apartment on the third floor of the Towers, when, quite quickly, it waltzed in from my bedroom, literally waltzed, and sat cross legged against the wall across from me, arms crossed, hat in claw. And it began to talk…and talk…and whisper mad, violent things in a deep guttural voice. Its infinitely black eyes bored into my skull creating a penetrating dull buzzing that drove me mad until I could actually feel my teeth grinding to dust.
I began by throwing my remote at it, then my controller, then my phone, and laptop, and lamp. And each time this…*thing* caught what was thrown deftly and laugh and place the object next to it until it had built up a good sized pile.
The cops soon came and I thanked them and pleaded with them and they looked over my shoulder to my broken things all stacked up neat and high and took me away into their protection that night.
It, of course, followed me, tapping the window of the police car with a long, yellow nail as it ran on many, many legs outside on the street.
That night it sat in the corner of the cell laughing and laughing until I drown it out with a pillow on my head. In the morning it was gone.
After that Halloween I knew. Knew that Paul wasn ’ t lying, wasn ’ t crazy. That there was some…magic in this. Some weird, witchy magic that allows this curse, this *thing*, to be passed from one person to the next in tale, in story, in legend.
I know how I sound. I know how *this* sounds. But bear with me. I think we can destroy it. For the past year I ’ ve been working on this…thing... that will allow me, us, to destroy it. It ’ ll come out soon, and I want you to be prepared.
Don ’ t listen to it. Don ’ t look at it.
And wait for me at 3AM—Witching Hour—on the third bridge across the creek. Do n't forget. Don ’ t be late.
I'm counting on you.
|
[ wp ] A squad of US marines must slay a dragon .
| `` Why are we out here again?''
`` Thermals spotted something that moves''
`` So not another goose-chase after a hot spring?''
`` No pretty sure its people with machines, goat flocks do n't get this hot''
`` Locals do n't come up here sir, they say it's cursed''
`` Sounds like the perfect reason to hide here to me. Probably border hoppers out of the Waz''
`` Think that's why that family started praying after us when we walked by?''
`` Cut the chatter, we're close. Fan out and go to recon tactics''
The squad fanned out as best as the craggy terrain would let them. slowly creeping up on one of the ubiquitous caves of the area. Clicks on the radio confirmed they had all reached position and found nothing, so they closed in.
Once they had reached the mouth of the cave, it was Hopkins turn on point.
He crept up and over slowly then stood once he had a clear view inside. `` All clear Sarge! Just a big mural or something. I do n't get it though, the whole wall is hot''
That was the last thing he said before the blast of fire enveloped him.
`` Flamethrower! Cover!''
`` fire in the hole!''
A set of grenades went in the cave entrance. With sinking horror they realized that the noise of their exploding grenades was continued with a unsettling roar.
A short flurry of thudding sounds was the only warning. The Dragon erupted from the entrance and leaped into the air.
There was no other word for it. 30 feet long from tail to fang studded maw. Gliding majestically, sunlight shimmering on its iridescent scales. The men stood awestruck and Peters was seen to pinch himself. It banked and began to descend on them. Discipline took over and they snapped out of their reverie.
`` Javelins! NOW!''
The squad only had one launcher and it took moments to load. Smoke billowed from the Dragon's mouth has it closed the distance. Clearly preparing to roast the lot of them in one strafe. It almost upon them when the telltale hiss and whistle of the rocket was heard.
The beast roared as the small missile shot forward into it's mouth and exploded. Momentum carried it forward and slammed into the ground with an unearthly clamor. It was dead.
The perplexed men gathered about it and regarding it and each other in turn.
`` This is going to be one hell of an after action report.''
|
[ WP ] Give me the bittersweet feels .
| A part of Captain Nathan Deshler wished he'd died with her.
As it was, she was a total write-off. His *Griffin, * a precious family heirloom from before the Fall of the Star League had survived all four Succession Wars, the 4th Andurien War and the Word of Blake's Jihad. But it had n't survived him.
The Grif's main weapon, a Fusigon Longtooth ER PPC was a charred lump of metal and wire, its capacitors and energy banks torn apart by autocannon fire. Its shoulder mounted LRM-20 had absorbed a burst of fire meant for his cockpit, while the torso and limbs were crisscrossed with laser scoring and deep hatchet wounds. Its leg actuators had seized up forever, joints and myomer melted as one. Only its left arm still functioned... of sorts. But the gore and dried blood which caked the hand actuator made efforts at moving each metal digit laborious and time-consuming. A few would-be hijackers had learned the hard way not to mess with Deshler. They had n't survived the lesson.
He knelt there before the smoking remains covered in sweat and grime, feeling as battered and battle-worn as his'Mech. He had piloted her since he was a young boy pretending to be a man, and as a young man pretending to be a leader. He'd poured countless hours into her maintenance, slept in her, fought in her, and almost died in her numerous times. It was more a home than anything else Deshler had. And now she was gone.
And yet he remained.
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[ WP ] Write a plot for the silliest movie you can come up with . ( Extra points if you include sequels )
| *Good Cop, Plant Cop* - Bad boy detective Mike Duvall ( Joey Lawrence ) is n't happy about his new assignment, investigating a potential drug lead at a Senior Care Facility. He's even less happy about his new partner: a wisecracking houseplant named Phil ( voiced by Tracy Morgan ). But when it turns out the seemingly-innocent-and-frail senior citizens are all working together in a massive crime syndicate to manufacture and distribute crystal meth, Mike will need Phil's help -- and all the courage he can muster -- to save the day.
*Plant Cop 2: School Beet* - Lovable buddies Mike and Phil are back for their next assignment, which has them posing as high school students to investigate the murder of a popular Wood Shop teacher.
*Plant Cop 3: Weed'em and Reap* - Mike and Phil go to Vegas to investigate the owner of a casino, who is suspected of shady dealings.
I could go on...
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[ WP ] A hearing person meets a deaf one . Write their encounter .
| Ben did not know sign language. But Ben could read a sign when he saw one. And that gorgeous blonde across the street sure as hell was one. As he saw her he was pushed by an invisible force, he knew he had to talk to her. She was deaf, but of course he had no idea at the time.
His first impression of her was that she was the personification of perfection. His second one was that she was an extremely rude person, for Lucy's attention was n't caught by his hesitant `` *Errm, excuse me? *'', nor by his `` *Hello? *'', for that matter. Though when he stopped in front of her she immediatly realised how impolite she must have seemed, as her face blushed in an instant. She read on his lips as he began talking, but cut him short by putting her hand on his shoulder. She took her phone out of her pocket and started typing on it. About a minute later, when Ben was starting to question what on earth he was doing there waiting, Lucy showed him her phone.
`` Hello, I'm terribly sorry if I seemed rude to you, I'm deaf, so I could n't hear what you said to me. Still, I can lip-read, or you can just type on my phone what you wanted to tell me.''
Ben was visibly disarmed, which drew a smile on her face. She had the looks of an angel, and Ben had trouble typing as her beautiful dark blue eyes, which took the shape of deliciously smoked almonds, penetrated his soul. After a rather long time, he gave back her phone to Lucy.
`` Uhm hi. At the risk of *sounding* ( oh God I hate myself sorry ) cheesy, I wanted to say that as I saw you across the street, I knew I had to come talk to you and ask you out on a date. And even though you ca n't hear, that is n't a problem ( well it kind of is right now, since I do n't know sign language, but I'm a fast learner I swear! ). Oh and by the way, my name's Ben: )''
Lucy glanced at him with a grin, and she raised her right fist, shook it vertically thrice, while her left hand typed her answer:
`` Sure, this could be fun! I'm Lucy, nice to meet you.''
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[ WP ] You are a serial killer , what sort of creative motive drives you ?
| Fire, that was the secret. The all-consuming, the purifying, the holy. It did n't matter exactly what I did, but They told me to use fire. Be it that charred lump of carbon and calcium that was some poor sod that gave me a funny look. Be it the strips of skin that I cut of made a pattern of deep crimson flames crawling up the man's body on his deathly pale skin. Perhaps it was the holy symbols that were engraved with napalm all the way through their body. Perhaps it was the blood from their wounds used to write the holy scriptures that They used to enlighten me. All I know is that it must be recognized, that it must be known. I hope that I have succeeded. Well, at least for now. It always wants more in the end.
Still a developing writer, so CC is appreciated. Inspired by /u/the_dark_man.
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[ WP ] An NPC goes mad from the absurd and insane mods the player installs that no one else seems to notice .
| Have you ever bumped into a man named Grenald The Grey?
He's quite a nice fellow, A lot of people do say.
He works in the market and earns a fair keep.
But something weird happens when Grenald does sleep.
For in the dead of the night a creature does rise.
It has slick grey fur and Grenald's green eyes.
It hunt's in the town for any live flesh.
I once seen it rip the heart from a man's chest.
You would think that a hero would come save us all.
But come every morning Grenald's back at his stall.
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[ WP ] While rummaging through a box of arts and crafts you created as a young child , you find a picture you drew . It is titled `` Me and my sister . '' You have never had a sister ...
| Katie walked in on Ken as he was cleaning his attic. She saw him staring at a piece of paper in his hand. Walking closer, she saw that it was a drawing.
`` Hey, is that your drawing.'' She asked.
Ken jumped, but recovered himself. `` Yeah, I made it when I was seven. Here, look.'' He gave her the drawing.
She took it from him. `` This is a picture of us when we were kids.'Me and my sister', oh, that's so sweet of you!''
Ken blushed at her. `` Yeah, when we were neighbors, we used to play together all the time. You were like a sister to me, back then.''
Katie smiled and hugged him. `` Well, I'm not your sister, but we can still play together if you want, in bed this time.''
She saw him blush even more.
`` Y-yeah, that would be great.''
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[ WP ] Write a story with as many continuity errors as possible .
| I woke up early in the morning. My head was hurting. *'' What did I do last night?'' *.
*'' Coffee. That's what I need right now. `` * I said to myself.
The apartement was empty. I looked out of the window while sipping my OJ and thought to myself *'' A wonderful city from above.'' *. The sun was going down and the sky was coloured in red as blood.
I noticed my wallet and jacket missing. *'' It must still be in the bar I was the night before'' * I thought to myself. I went out of the door of my house. The sun nearly blinding me. My car was in the driveway. *'' I did n't drive home last night did I?'' *. But sure enough, the key was still in the ignition of my motorcycle.
*'' I'm glad no cop arrested me*''.
I drove to the night club. I got out of my car. My stomach ache worse than when I woke up.
Luckily the restaurant was already open. I went in. Everyone was looking at me weirdly. *'' Damn I must have left a really bad impression. `` *
I asked the Lady behind the bar if she's seen my bag. A black one.
She did n't say anything. Just nodded and went into a room in the back.
As he came back it dawned to me. Pictures from last night came into my view. *'' I think I screamed at that young girl for not giving me any more to drink!'' *.
`` *Sir, I'm sorry I complained so heavily about the food yesterday.*''. I said to the bartender.
He nodded and gave me my keys back.
Back on the street, I noticed my bicycle was stolen. *'' Could this day get any worse'' *. I walked back to my trailer.
On the way back a young girl approached me. I did n't know her.
She was looking very concerned. *'' Who exactly did I piss off yesterday? `` *
Then he said to me: `` Dad, you know you should n't go out alone. I've been searching for you all night!''.
She made a call, I sat down on my motorcycle. Blue lights approached. Someone gave me some pills. The injection still hurts my left arm.
My headache is gone.
I wake up early in the morning. *'' What did I do last night? `` *
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[ OT ] ( Meta ) Let 's talk about fairness .
| In a way, I understand your point of view. On the other, if I can quote the sidebar...
> The subreddit where it's all made up and the points do n't matter.
That's right, where your points are like the lint in your belly button. If you have a lot, good for you! If you do n't, great! You do n't have to go around cleaning out your bellybutton!
If there's anything you have to know about opinions on the internet, some of them get popular, some do n't. People are fickle and will like what they like and hate what they hate. And the internet being the internet, attention spans are short. Perhaps they do n't get down to the stories below. Nobody's fault except the audience's. The sub itself thrives on things getting popular quickly, being seen and voted upon. That in itself may be part of the problem that you see here. Ideas rise and fall so quickly that the Fastest Gun wins because this is the environment it thrives in. If you do n't have the time to write when it becomes popular, you could PI your story later and hope the community supports that.
In a community of artists ( because that is effectively what this is ), it should be about the art itself, supporting the craft and helping those in the community explore and improve in that craft. Yes, support those that are great pieces, but also read those below and help them improve their own writing. Hopefully, we can create a community full of great writers! Maybe some of us can get published some day because of that support. Do n't hate on those that have, rise to their level. Adapt to the system, if you can. Please do n't be discouraged by it. Nothing is perfect.
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[ WP ] Two ambitious coworkers want the same promotion , and they ’ re both willing to do just about anything to get it .
| David gently rapped the open door as he entered Carl's office. The door was open, and June, Carl's secretary had already informed David that he was expected on the way in. Yet, David could n't help shake the small amount of discomfort lingering in the back of his mind that always accompanies a meeting with one's superior. Somehow, in a small way, it always felt like visiting the principal's office.
`` You wanted to see me?'' David asked, hovering behind one of two `` guest'' chairs in Carl's office. Carl was studying a packet of documents on his desk when David entered, and had yet to look up from his work. Visibly, Carl was a very plain man. He was well into middle age, bald, and exceptionally pale. His mustache was flecked with grey, and he was perhaps 50 pounds overweight for his height. Despite his appearance, his no-nonsense management approach had garnered him a remarkably notorious reputation as a hard-ass.
`` I did,'' Carl said, looking up from his paperwork. `` Please sit.'' He gestured to the seat in front of David and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms on the edge of his desk. David quietly sat and kept his gaze on Carl. `` I know you and Phil have both been gunning for that promotion, and there's even been talk of some less-than-professional conduct on each of your parts,'' Carl said with a slight edge to his voice. It was widely known that Carl did n't tolerate unprofessional behavior.
`` I assure you I've done nothing that would constitute misconduct,'' David replied defensively, averting his gaze towards Carl's chin.
`` I certainly hope so,'' Carl said. `` In any case, there will be no need for any tomfoolery, or whatever you want to call it. The position is yours. Phil is no longer with the company.'' David's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
`` Did he quit? What happened?'' David asked, leaning in slightly with an intent look. Carl waved a dismissive hand.
`` I'm not at liberty to discuss it until HR has cleared it,'' Carl replied, adjusting the papers on his desk. `` Please move into your office by the end of the day. Tomorrow you'll begin your new duties.'' Carl returned his focus to his paperwork, and gave David a little shooing gesture to indicate the conversation was over. David thanked Carl, and left the office to begin packing up his desk for the move.
The next morning, the reason for Phil no longer being with the company became clear. Reading the paper, David stumbled upon a small blurb tucked away in the pages. `` Phil Burroughs and Natalie Burroughs, Ages 34 and 32, Passed away in a head-on collision due to brake failure.'' Poor Phil, David thought to himself. He deserved better. David quietly finished his breakfast and got ready for work. On his way out the door he tossed the paper into his trash bin, where it landed directly next to a pair of oily work gloves. Tomfoolery indeed.
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[ WP ] If you murder someone , you absorb all his sins and he goes to Heaven . Murdering people is usual , and nodody went to Hell for a long time . A prophecy speaks of the last man alive , who will take the burden of all sins mankind ever committed . After a natural disaster , only 3 people remain alive .
| When people lay on their deathbeds they called out to her. She would smile at them and place her hand gently on their foreheads, telling them: `` everything will be all right, I will suffer for your crimes.'' Then she'd softly drive a dagger through their hearts. She'd done it countless times, and she'd be given gifts and feasts by the family members afterwards. That was my mother, the high priestess- a Carrier of Sins just like her mother before her and her mother before, an unbroken line tracing back to the first sin ever committed.
My own initiation came earlier than usual for a Carrier. I had to purge my mother when she fell to a rare sickness, as was custom among females in my family. The young took the sins of the old. I could not even grieve for her as I felt the crimes of all of humanity go through me. For days I saw nothing but black. For days I did nothing but scream as I felt every torture that has even been inflicted on my man by man. It was terrible, something no one should have to endure. I wanted to rebel, to put a stop to this system. People must carry their own sins with them to the afterlife. But there was n't time, and whatever took my mother took the rest of humanity too.
People had theories, but we did n't live long enough to have them verified, much less discover a cure. What was left was an empty wilderness. Me, the woman by my side, and a rumored hunter who wanted to die by our hands.
`` You are a hard girl to find.'' He said, relief painted on his face as he stepped cautiously over the twigs, checking for traps.
`` You are a hard man to avoid.''
`` I looked for you at the temple by the dry river. You were n't there.''
`` I left home a long time ago. It reminded me of my mother.''
`` I searched for you for months, roaming the countryside, the abandoned cities and the forests and the mountains. I had given up all hope, until I met an old woman who showed me the way to you.''
`` And did you kill her?''
`` I did n't. I will leave that to you.''
`` The last man standing will bear the sins of all mankind. Do you not know the prophecy?''
`` I do, by heart.''
`` And am I a man?''
`` The prophecy you read was what an oracle could best put to human tongue. The divine revelation she received had no form- the prophecy is perfect, but its oration might not be. And she said Man with a capital M- that includes you too, little girl.''
`` The only other Man- with a capital M- is an old woman. Do you think she should die taking all our species' guilt? Do you think a little girl should die? Shame on you, you able bodied, fully grown man.''
`` You are descended from the most elite line of Carriers. I hear you inherited your mother's phantoms before you hit puberty. I can see the pain in your eyes. I do n't want to see them in mine. You can take it. I ca n't. Let me die in peace.''
He took out a sword, turned it towards himself and walked towards me.
`` And now, it ends.'' He said.
`` No,'' I said. `` Now it begins.''
I gave the signal. The old woman leapt out of the thickets and swung a grenade at him.
The man was startled at first, but quickly gained his composure. He leapt back to catch it square in his hands. He held it and smiled, fondling it teary eyed like it was his salvation.
`` Thank you. Though I'm sad that you do n't want to give me a clean death.''
`` No,'' the old woman said as she slunk close to me. It was a deliberate dud. `` We just want you to stay where you are.''
He looked to the ground and heard the beep of a detonator. The old hag had lured him to this spot. Then a landmine exploded, not at his feet though. He saw the old woman and the little girl next to her smile, then disappear behind a blaze of orange.
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[ WP ] Write me a love story where the characters only meet once , likely to never meet again .
| I turned the page, my finger sticking on the rough parchment as it scratched against my skin.'Shit. Did I just cut myself?' After intently observing the tip of my finger for an eternity of seconds, I decided I had n't. My eyes glided downwards to the book, drifting along a line of text.
*The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven..*
I had been reading that line over an over again for the past half hour. Whenever I was about to move along to the next sentence, I would get distracted. Maybe a group of pilots huddled together in penguin-esque fashion would cross in front of me. Or maybe the epitome of hipster-male would take a seat in front of me, whip out all five of his Apple products, impressively type away on all of them for a few minutes, and then decide that he was about to miss his flight. Or maybe I'd have to go to the bathroom. A man's got ta piss.
'No more distractions. This time I'm going to do it-'
**BZZT. NOW BOARDING FLIGHT 536 TO SALT LAKE CITY UTAH**
`` Goddamnit!'' I reflexively cursed as my entire frame visibly jumped. Adrenaline pumping through my veins as dictated by my archaic fight or flight response. I looked around and let out a sigh of relief. There was no audience to laugh at my embarrassment. Or so I thought.
It was a melodic chuckle, the kind that escaped from a heart, slipped out a mouth and enchanted a man with its honesty. My eyes fell on the its source, and my brows furrowed.
She looked taken aback by my uncertainty. All aboard the train of confusion and mistaken intentions. `` Ahem. Sorry, that was just kind-of... funny.'' Her eyes dropped away from mine, towards the book I was reading. `` Milton! He has a certain way with words'' Clearly she wanted to end this awkward little interaction but she had no idea how.
God she was beautiful. Not in the blow your brains out, kneel down in unworthiness sense. No she was *simply* beautiful, with curly cocoa brown locks that hung out on her shoulders. With darker brown eyes, large enough to captivate, but not enough to overwhelm her other, softer features.'Why was she talking to me? A pretty girl just happens to be walk by me and let me hear her laugh?' I looked kinda sketchy, sitting all by myself at an empty gate, with my tan skin and scraggly beard.'How in the universe does it make sense that she would approach me? It would be more likely that airport security would approach me if anything. Shit did I say that out loud?'
`` Are you airport security?'' My throat made an attempt to grab at the words as the barreled past my common sense through my mouth, but it was futile.'Did I really just fucking say that?' I looked at those large brown eyes for some reaction.
Another perfect chuckle. `` What?'' The confusion had left her face and was replaced by mild amusement, she looked happy. What did I do to deserve that smile?
'Quick say something clever.' I stalled for a second by running my hands through my own hair. `` It's just that. You know, I'm all alone here, and I'm definitely Arab. Kinda suspicious if you ask me, especially in an airport.'' I managed a smile this time.
`` Oh you're totally right. I'm actually with airport security. How many explosive devices would you say you have in that tacky piece of luggage in front of you?'' Now it was my turn to laugh. Damn she was funny... and cute. `` Mind if I join you?''
I motioned to the seat across from me which she enthusiastically took. `` What do you mean tacky?'' Sure my old bag had been through hell and back, and it was tattered and bruised from a thousand abusive relationships with luggage loaders. But it was hardly tacky. `` I'm offended.''
She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. `` I'm Eva.''
`` Adam.'' My arm extended on its own accord, and I held on for a little to long after we shook hands. `` So, Eva. What are you doing here?''
`` Oh I'm planning on flying actually.'' She managed to keep up the repartee even as she wrestled off her *Detroit Redwings* sweatshirt.
`` Where to?''
`` Salt Lake City.''
`` Oh you better get going, that plane will surely take off without you. If you do miss it, however, you're welcome to join me on my trip to London.''
She considered it for a second, she truly did; she was n't just entertaining the idea, it was actually being considered. She said yes; we got up right then; we boarded the plane; I pointed out my house as we landed; I took her to my favorite bar, right along the Thames; she out-drank me; I did n't take her home, not then; we went to the huge italian restaurant that my friend had been raving about; it was terrible; we spent the entire afternoon making fun of the chewy noodles and terrible marinara sauce; we made love; but I preferred to just stare into her eyes; to grapple with those captivating orbs; to fall so deeply into her that we ceased to exist as separate entities. God this was all so stupid. But she still considered it.
`` I ca n't. I have this family thing that I'm kinda obligated to go to. But I'm sure all see you around.'' Another wise-crack, eliciting another smile upon my face. It was getting too much. We talked for as long as we could. I always imagined the airplane hatch following her as she boarded. I only had a few minutes with her, but they were sublime. And when she left I was alone with my thoughts. I closed the book, after all, there was no way I could finish reading with so much on my mind.
I dismissed my feelings with a chuckle. How could I love her, I hardly knew her. I would get on with life, and marry a beautiful girl and get the perfect job and all that nonsense, and it would be great for sure.
I'm sure in the future, I would be happy, but for a moment I was actually complete.
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[ WP ] /r/writingprompts is going to crowdsource a book .
| ~~TBD Placeholder~~
~~**Part 5**~~
She continued smiling at him, waiting for a response. B could n't respond, could n't think, could n't so much as shake his head. He was n't sure what had just hit him but he knew without a doubt *something* had.
`` Daily special?'' Repeated with an ingratiating smile. She seemed genuinely worried about his weight. B just kept staring at her in confusion. He mechanically stuffed another forkful into his mouth, immediately gagging as he realized what he was doing.
`` Who are you!?'' He shouted it this time. Aunty just smiled at him.
`` Please, anything, tell me anything?'' His eyes were starting to tear up.
`` Look, you in menu!'' Her broken English was starting to get to him.
`` Fuck the menu! I'm going out of my goddamn mind and all you care about is if I want the free range chicken or the alley cat soaked... in rainwater?'' Reading off the menu. `` The fuck kinda place is this? WHAT ARE YOU SERVING ME!?'' She just kept smiling. She almost seemed to be laughing.
The rage left him as quick as it came. He deflated and curled up again on the floor, sobbing softly. Looking at Aunty was too painful, too frustrating.
`` You sleepy now. We talk later.'' He tried to protest but as she said it darkness came over him. He drifted off to the sound of her retreating footsteps.
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[ WP ] You are a pizza delivery driver , you knock at the door and it opens to a truly terrible scene .
| The smell of pizza emanating from the box in my hands has grown old. For the past year I have been delivering for Smitty's Pizza Hut to get the extra cash I need for my tuition bill. I've already submitted my two week notice and this is my last day, in fact my last delivery before moving back home to California. The sound of the door bell has a very odd sound. It chimed three times with one press of the bell. I began to reach for the doorbell again before I heard the foot steps. It sounds like a heavy set person. Maybe this customer does n't need this delivery.
The door opened slowly with a very audible creak before revealing a man wearing a black hoodie, jeans, and a very cartoonish Ronald Reagan mask.
`` Nice mask bro. Here's your pizza. That'll be $ 18.72.'' The man just stood there staring at me. He had a very foul smell about him and I could very easily hear heavy breathing. Thank goodness he's wearing that mask. I bet this guys breath smells about as bad as the stench emitting from what is more than likely an unbathed body. `` It's $ 18.72. You want this pizza or not?'' I shifted my weight and my gaze was caught at the scene that was beyond him. A woman and two children were tied to chairs with make shift gags of cloth in their mouths. The cloth in the woman's mouth was drenched and had spittle being flung around as she violently shook her head trying to do what I can very easily assume was scream for help. That was when I noticed the gun. It was firmly gripped in the hand of the man standing before me pointed downwards. It was then that the man finally spoke his first words. `` You're just in time for the party.'' As he rose the gun to my face I felt my entire body begin to freeze. The boxes fell from my hands and landed hard on the ground. `` Pick that up and come inside. Everyone is going to need to be fed if were going to have a fun night.''
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[ PM ] Prompt me !
| /u/Philip671
Prompt: A young man is on holiday when the country erupts into a civil war. Write the story of the boys mother coming to rescue you him. -- -- I'll be writing this from the perspective of his father.
My son went to the country to visit a friend on holiday from school. He was one of the unlucky ones, caught in the epicenter of a huge civil war that started before he could get out...
The Agency hired me to go in, and get their VP... By time I got in it was too late for him, but I was going to save the others, so help me, Satan. God did n't have my back on this one.
I hooked up with some rebels and got the blueprints for the enemy hostage warehouse... After studying for several hours, I made my move. I was silent as the night, a shadow in the darkness.
They never saw me, or the bullets that pierced their hearts, coming. One after the other they dropped dead, bodies disappearing into dark corners. I grabbed the hostages and made a run for it...
About 15 minutes into the break, the sirens started, 5 minutes later they were on our trail. We made a solid sprint to the border, and I was loading the kids onto a truck when I got tagged.
Bloody, dying, I got the last person aboard, and uttered my final words... `` Fly, you fools.''
I pushed the truck away and fell into the mud.
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[ WP ] The latest best seller is about a Nobel Prize winning chemist who is also an axe-wielding serial killer . Write a review trashing the non-existent book .
| 20 pages in and I felt bile rising to the back of my throat. Normally when reading a grotesque horror novel, that would be a good thing. But no, it had little to do with the story and everything to do with with the writing.
This author has been polishing turds and half-assing it, while cashing in on his name alone for decades now. This latest serving of crap feels almost like a parody of the previous installments. Let's start off with the cover. His last name literally takes up over 50 % of the front cover ( I measured it ). Not that I can blame the publishers. I mean, who can possibly take title `` The Nobel Killer'' seriously. Cute word play, did he spend an entire afternoon coming up with that? If so, it's probably more than he spend on the first three chapters.
You know how most books start off with a hook? Something to grab the readers interest. Yeah, you're not gon na find that here. The entire first chapter could have been eliminated and nothing would have been missed.
After about a third of the way in, the story *finally* gets going. Except the author introduces a dozen different characters with no clue as to which are important or not. Do we really need to know that that the janitor at his university has electrical tape holding his glasses together?
Four more new characters are introduced by the halfway point and half a dozen carried over from the beginning had me ping-ponging back and forth to keep them in line.
There is one stretch of pure self-masturbatory descriptive drudgery here. I counted 73 pages without a single word of dialogue or action. Check this line out; *'' Harold lovingly wiped the silvery metal of his axe, dutifully keeping the Japanese titanium blades very clean and very pure, much as his fifth-grade parochial school nun Maria reverently kept her sex clean for Jesus. `` * Any other author would have had this crap tossed in the garbage. But no, the critics eat this crap up. So edgy! Gag me. This sentence has more adverbs and adjectives in it than entire Hemingway novel.
I wo n't even get into the `` surprise'' twist at the end, except to note that if it really surprises you, you're probably an idiot. Though to be fair, anyone willingly reading this book ( and not getting paid to do so ) is probably an idiot. If you're not, reading this book will surely drop your IQ 10 points or so. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go sit in the corner and play with my lower lip.
Edit: [ Here's a quick fake cover ] ( http: //i.imgur.com/C1tfPHI.jpg ) for the fake book, I guess the name is n't quite half the cover, but it's bad; )
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[ WP ] Upon being introduced to the Galactic Alliance , we find out a perverse truth : Humanity is actually the sanest species in the galaxy .
| `` Hello, Ambassador.''
`` Hey, your name is Hugh Mann, right? Okay Hugh, lets embarrass the hell outta this door!''
`` What? Are n't we negotiating for the colonization of Mars?''
`` You can have it. We just found out we ca n't grow grain for beer there. Besides, this door is a freaking nerd!''
The robotic door chimes in. `` Approaching the sun, sirs.''
`` The SUN?! We need to turn around,'' I say. The alien replies.
`` It's s'all good man. All negotiations end with crashing into the sun. It's sort of a tradition slash science experiment. Hey, the door still has some self esteem! Why do n't ya go play some D & D, door! Doorgeons and Doorgans!'' He laughs raucously. `` You got ta try some of this cyanide man, it's strong stuff! Oh right, I forgot, fun is poison for your species.''
`` Let's turn around,'' I say. The door passes on the sentiment to the ship's computer.
`` Buzzkill.''
`` And you are one of the most high ranking officials in the Alliance?''
`` Sure *burp* am! I went to college for Alcohol Studies! I'm the chairman of the Department of Fun, Agriculture and Science!''
`` I fail to see the relationship between the three. Anyway, I would like to request aid in putting down the insurgent groups in the Middle East. If they become spacefaring, they could pose a major threat to galactic peace.''
`` How about this: we put you, Hugh Mann, in charge of the Galactic Council. Whenever we discover a species more intelligent than any discovered we put'em in charge. My species has, obviously, held the title for the record number of space-years: 2. Meanwhile, drink something, Mr. Spartymants!''
`` I believe you mean Smartypants. Our species would be obliged to sit on the Council. We will send a message to the President immediately. If I may ask, though, why was humanity not contacted sooner?''
`` Oh, we watch your planetary activities like a sitcom with a lightspeed delay and did n't want to know the ending. World War Part II was my favorite episode.''
|
[ WP ] A story that gets darker and more intense each time you read it .
| It began with a prompt. A simple writing prompt designed with the intent to scare or frighten the reader. Harmless enough right? So I began. I wrote a tale of some hapless reader coming along and reading through comments on such a prompt hoping for something that might actually reach out to them and touch them, to remind them of their own mortality, or at least make them feel real. But no, no stories of gore or frightening monsters lurking behind the visible fabrics of reality, waiting to burst forth through the reader's imagination were found by the reader. They left, disappointed once again by the lack of content, blissfully unaware. Unaware of the horrors that they and everyone around them constantly keep at bay, simply by not acknowledging their existence. You see, that is their only weakness. Not the reader's. The others, the beings existing outside of the simple 3-dimensional existence we call and assert as reality. That is our power. Only by our belief, no matter how fleeting, varying from an absent-minded daydream to a fully fleshed out novel, can these creatures enter our realm. We are not aware of it, probably because of our own belief that man can not simply `` create''. That is why when they came we were shocked by how familiar our demise felt. Yet no one truthfully knew how it all began.
|
[ WP ] A wizard is walking down a busy street when it begins to rain .
| I muttered a few unspeakable words under my breath and continued walking.
Were I in the forest, as I usually was, I would simply utter a spell and have the rain avoid me while I attended my business. However, I wanted for the townsfolk to not be wary to the fact that I was indeed a wizard, and remaining dry in the downpour would surely give myself away. As it was, my long beard that had the occasional twig in it attracted glances.
Why the other wizards decided to hold our conventions in right under normal people's noses, I had no idea. The only requirements were this: We were not allowed to use magic in public for the duration of the convention, we could n't let normal people find us, and we had to walk in, not teleport or use an invisibility charm.
Some wizards are just too cocky.
As a wizard of the forest, I was surely outnumbered by other wizards at the conference. A vast majority of the attending wizards were wizards of the earth. Wizards of the water were also quite common. If you are confused about our kind, let me explain. A wizard tends to be more gifted with certain abilities. For me, I tend to be welcoming to forest creatures, have a magnificent green thumb, and can use much of the forest to my advantage. You may also notice that if I am still for too long, I'd begin to sprout twigs and look very much like an old stump. Water wizards would form puddles underneath them, which is a disaster to clean up.
The conference was often the only chance I had to meet my wizard brethren. As the weekend went by, I saw dear friends, some cousins, and old rivals. Most had an apprentice with them. I did n't have one, at the time.
But you found me here, in my home. That is no small task. I believe the King may have granted you with some of our abilities, even though you do n't believe so. That is why I train you, my young friend. Do not worry about the teapot you broke, or the squirrels you accidentally fried. I believe in you. You can be a great wizard.
|
[ RF ] You 're driving home at night , and you notice something moving in the backseat from the rear-view mirror ...
| God I hate the graveyard shift, I catch a glance at the small clock that shows 2:38am on the dashboard of my clapped out Corsa, things older than I am but still can be trusted to get me from home to work and back on a Summer night, despite my mothers claims it's a “ death trap waiting to happen ”.
Right on cue the CD player starts to splutter, okay so she might not be falling apart but the old Lady does have a few technical issues. I take a little swing at the CD player, miss, and take a look down to make sure the next shot hits. One hit, nothing, glance up lights ahead still green that's fine, eyes down and hit, and Frank is back to telling us how not everybody is meant to be an astronaut.
Eyes back up with a hoot of celebration and “ SHIT ”, it's red. Or was it amber, please be amber, I can not afford another ticket. Tentatively, through a wince, I look up into the rear view mirror. Amber! No ticket here! I let out a laugh and join in Mr Turner's eulogy to the past, check the rear view mirror again and “ FUCK ”.
The brake almost touches the floor and old Carrie screeches a bum note as she shudders to a halt. There is someone in my car, I am so going to die, fuck.
“ WHO'S THERE, I'VE GOT A GUN ” I shout it, but it's more of a whimper, and a lie, I do n't have a gun mum thinks it'll get me killed, something about shooting myself in the foot enough as it is. Slowly the prone body sits up, the blanket falls away and reveals Amy. All 5 foot 6 inches of her, sitting in my car.
“ Dude, what the fuck are you doing, I was sleeping? ” she says, like I'm the completely irrational one right now, “ I hit my head, that better not bruise, asshole ”. Oh okay, you worry about your potential forehead bruise while I have a heart attack, no problem girl.
“ What are you doing in my car.. How did you even get in? ” I knew, my cars alarm and doors were a joke, my friends used to break in all the time, but come on after high school that shit stops being funny. It becomes outright terrifying. “ I thought I was going to end up on the morning news, headline “ Chicago man butchered by penis thief ”, what is wrong with you? ”.
“ Not even a hello? Growing up has made you rude. ” She says, sitting up completely, the street lights orange glow casting light on her now. My fears are dissipated and replaced by a weird cocktail of emotion, she's back again I guess.
|
[ WP ] A restaurant exists with a machine that creates exactly what you want to eat . A skinny young woman approaches the machine , gasps echo throughout the restaurant as her meal is served for her ...
| **NSFW**
Silence was ushered into the room as even the young woman's slender frame managed to cover other customer's views of her most desired meal. The middle-aged and man whose beard seemed as heavy as his nostalgia, looked on with wonder; he himself sat before a pile of waffles styled after those of his mother's.
A sheepish young man that sat to the right of the woman had paused from eating his bowl of popcorn, from the theater his ex had worked at, to look up at the woman when she had first walked in; a struggle between emotional responsibility and emotional desire had been stirred. He had found a walts of coincidences to be found in her appearance, she reminded him just so much of his ex; as things we desire tend to come again.
A widow sat to the left and behind the woman, a look of remembrance was to be found in her eyes as well, but whether it was one of reminiscence, or regret, an answer was n't to be found.
Finally, the young woman turned round, having sensed that she had stirred an upset of nostalgia and sorrow, she had disposed of her food before anyone was able to see it.
`` It was just a dick''
Blushing steadily, she hurriedly left the restaurant. She knew what it was, and like everyone else had learnt, sometimes old desires are best left buried.
|
[ WP ] Describe a world of magic that runs on math .
| I pushed my bangs back off my forehead, plucked off my glasses, and rubbed at my eyes. There was a headache trying to push its way out from behind them and it was radiating out of the Feynman diagrams. The little squiggles could have been runes to summon some sort of demon. They were about that hard to look at- eldritch and unnatural.
Or maybe it was just the pile of math next to them. I slid my glasses back on and, with a mighty force of will, completed the last few lines to the differential equation required to answer question number 3.
“ How ’ s that, ” I asked Darian.
He looked up from the textbook he was reading. He glanced over at my handwriting, and gave me an apologetic smile, “ It ’ s close. ”
I moaned and slumped down on the page. “ I hate quantum physics. ”
“ Don ’ t say that! It ’ s just the math getting to you. Quantum physics is really beautiful. ”
I looked over at him incredulously. Darin was in the master ’ s physics program and I knew he loved it, but that statement was still flat nuts. “ Um, there ’ s a difference. ”
“ Yes. ” He hesitated, “ Maybe that ’ s what you ’ re missing. So this shows you entangled particle pairs, right? ”
“ Sure. ”
“ Well, OK, with the way you ’ ve done the problem there ’ s going to be a shred of extra charge floating around. One of the particles would get it, and then you ’ d be able to affect that one with a simple electrical charge. The affect would propagate and you ’ d have data being transmitted FTL. See if you keep what you ’ re doing in mind the whole thing is easier because the results either make sense or they don ’ t. ”
I looked down at the equations again. He was right, of course. Darin wouldn ’ t have been working in the tutoring program if he gave out bad advice. The idea of FTL communication was sort of interesting. It wouldn ’ t suffer interference either. “ Where did I go wrong? ”
He tapped the page. “ The synthetic division here. I think your eyes just got crossed. ”
There was a 5 that should have been a 4. I had an idea, “ What ’ s the energy at that point? ”
“ Huh? ”
“ In the real world, on that line there, what ’ s the energy? ”
“ Um, it ’ s nothing. ” He looked confused.
“ It can ’ t be nothing. What do the terms represent? ”
“ That ’ s a transitional state in an unbalanced system getting ready to fountain out a bunch of virtual particles. The energy is, almost by definition, undefined. I mean, you ’ re trying to calculate the probabilities for what it can become. ” He looked down at his fingers and twisted them together a bit. “ You know you ’ re pretty close to done. You ’ ve got that problem now, and I think the last one is the easiest of the lot. You could be done by 7:20. ”
“ Uh huh. So if that really were a 5 it wouldn ’ t be a big change, right. ”
Darin blinked. “ It would violate physics. ”
“ A lot of things do. ” I was in the magic program not the physics program. Like all the other magi, I just learned about the world so I could change it. The idea of “ violates physics ” didn ’ t bother me so much. “ What would change about the macro world? ”
“ Oh, well, not much. I think it would adjust the location of the valance bands of an electron, maybe. Only a little. You wouldn ’ t be able to form certain fragile bonds. You know, Rise of Ultron is playing at 7:45. ”
“ Sure. ” I wasn ’ t really listening. So the scale factor on a spell that made that 4 into a 5 would be really manageable. I wondered if anyone had ever made that 4 into a 5.
“ Would you like to go? ”
“ Uh huh. ”
“ I mean with me. Like, um, together. ”
I looked up, trying to piece the part of the conversation I hadn ’ t really listened to back together. I thought I ’ d been asked out. That kind of came out of the blue. I hadn ’ t thought Darin was into me. I considered for a bit. He was nice, smart, and good looking enough. A geek, of course, but that wasn ’ t really so bad. It mostly meant any relationship hints he ’ d need would have to be delivered bluntly. That was getting ahead of myself. Just a movie would be fine, even if Ultron looked stupid.
However, I had a spell to try tonight. “ I can ’ t tonight. ”
He looked really crestfallen. Now that I was thinking about him that way it was pretty cute. “ Oh, yeah, sorry. ”
I started to pack up my books, “ Saturday 8ish. You ’ ve got my number, right? ”
“ What? Yeah! Sure. You do mean Ultron right? ”
“ And dinner. If we just go to the movie we won ’ t get to talk. ” I slid the last of my books into the bag.
“ Uh, right, dinner. ”
“ That ’ s pretty standard. Call me. ” I started to head for home.
“ Bye Jen! ” Darin called after me, he was loud enough that I saw some of the other people in the library scowl.
I smiled and gave him a little wave, but I didn ’ t slow.
+ + +
I soldered the resister in to place and revision 46 of my communications board become revision 47. “ There! ”
My back cracked as I sat up straight and I froze wincing slightly. Darin noticed. Without being asked he walked over, brushed my hair out of the way, and began to knead my shoulders with his hands. I thought I heard something pop. His thumbs were a magic all of their own. Still, he had to break the spell, “ Are you going to turn them on? ”
I looked down at the small green circuit boards with their embedded vacuum tubes full of magically produced entangled particles and the tiny but powerful diode lasers that read their state. The tiny, but powerful, diode lasers that drew too much power when they were hot and popped the resisters on revision 46 of the boards. I wondered what would break on revision 47. “ God no. ”
“ No? ”
“ No! You can ’ t make me turn them on again. When I turn them on they break and then I have to spend weeks figuring out why and fixing them. ”
Darin leaned down and kissed my neck. He knows where I ’ m ticklish, so it made me shiver slightly. “ I like it when you spend weeks in my lab. ”
“ When I spend time in your lab, progress on your thesis falls off markedly, ” I told him sternly. I wasn ’ t actually sure that was true. Darin tells me he loves me, but he ’ s rather fond of entangled particles- the mundane sort, not my magical ones. He does a pretty good job of ignoring me when he ’ s studying them. Then again he did come over to rub my shoulders so I couldn ’ t be too mad.
“ Alright, we both could use a break. Rule of Ultron is showing at 9:45. We hit it up, and then you can turn the board on afterwards. Or tomorrow. ” He wiggled his eyebrows. I punched him.
“ Rule of Ultron will not get me back to your place. I read that it stinks. ”
“ Critics don ’ t know classic cinema when they see it. ”
+ + +
I looked down at the small diamond on its little gold band and couldn ’ t find words for a long moment. Oh wow, were we there? We ’ d talked about it. We were heading there. Hell, I ’ d hinted pretty strongly. It was just, for the first time in our relationship, Darin had actually managed to keep a secret. I hadn ’ t known tonight would be the night. I..
“ Will you, ” he sounded nervous.
Oh yeah, right, I hadn ’ t said anything. I was probably just giving him a bug eyed look.
“ Yes. I mean I will. I mean I do. No, I will. I… ” Then I broke down crying which was a way girlier raction than I was going to admit to later, but it gave me something better to do other than babble.
+ + +
More good news came the next day. My father was on the phone. “ The bank said they ’ d take as many units as you can supply while keeping the magical current cost for a day ’ s operation below a thousand dollars. They said they run all their wire transfers, account data, and everything else over magical links. So how many is that? ”
I looked down at the ring. I shrugged. It didn ’ t really carry well across the phone.
“ Honey? How many copies of the spell can you run for that? ”
I shook my head a little. “ Um, hundreds, but the spell is only required to manufacture the boards. It doesn ’ t violate physics for the particles to have a charge. Darin says he knows why, ” Mr. Darin now, “ but I don ’ t really follow the math. Oh he ’ s done with his thesis! ”
“ That ’ s nice. Tell him congrats for me. So how many can you sell the bank? ”
“ As many as they want to buy. Have you been telling people these boards require an active magical spell? ”
“ Every other method of instantaneous communication does! ”
I sighed. Dad ’ s great, he really is, but he knows sales not magic. “ Yeah, mine don ’ t. That was the whole point all along. ”
“ Oh, wow, I ’ ve got to call some people back. ”
“ Wait, before you go I ’ ve got another piece of news… ” I told him.
“ Congratulations! I think you ’ re going to be able to honeymoon anywhere you want. ”
I smiled. “ Somewhere Destruction of Ultron isn ’ t playing then. ”
|
[ WP ] You are flipping through a WWII book when you find a picture of you , exactly as you are right now , dressed in full uniform . The book says you are an SS Officer .
| The moment I turned the page I realized my mistake.
Hastily, I tried to flip to the next page, but Rachel slammed her hand down on the book.
`` What the fuck?'' She asked, her voice dangerous. She was using a tone of voice I'd only heard her use when she was arguing with her mother.
My mouth went dry. `` Uh... what do you mean?'' I said, trying to stall for time.
`` Tell me that's not you. Look me in the eyes and tell me that's not you.'' She said, her finger stabbing at the photograph of me in a black SS trenchcoat, smoking a cigarette while leaning against a burned out T-34 tank.
I looked at her eyes, flashing with anger. I was a good liar. But not good enough. She knew.
`` Yes, that's me.'' I said, and she slid across the couch away from me like I was a poisonous snake.
`` It was n't the SS that everyone thinks of, the Einsatzgruppen.'' I continued in a rush. `` It was the Waffen SS, we were a purely military branch, like the Wehrmacht. I was in a division composed of Russian volunteers. When I told you I lost my children in the purges, that was n't a lie. I just... I could n't tell you about this. You have to understand, at the time it seemed like the lesser evil. We did n't know how bad it was. I...'' I trailed off. Her jaw was clenched.
`` Get the fuck out.'' She spit the words out with venom.
`` Baby, please....'' I tried to grab her hands but she pulled them away.
`` Get the fuck out. I do n't ever want to see you again.'' She said turning away, refusing to look at me.
I realized that I was crying, and that she was n't.
`` Rachel, I love you, I converted for you, and I'm so, so sorry. I should have told you.'' I said, weakly.
Rachel hesitated for a second, but only a second. `` I revoke my invitation.'' She said, firmly.
I was hurled from the couch, down the hall. My fingers tore at the doorframe, ripping off the mezuzah as I felt myself pulled by an irresistible force out of the apartment. I lay in the hall stunned, looking up just in time to see her slam the door in my face.
I stood up and leaned against the wall. Emotionally I felt numb, but my mind was already working over what I had to do now. She'd believed me, but she had an uncle in the Mossad. She probably would n't tell him. If she did, he probably would n't believe her. But if she showed him the picture and he recognized my face, realized that Otto Skorzeny was still alive, they'd be after me again.
I looked at my watch and shoved down my emotions. It was time to run again. But first, I'd need to feed.
|
[ WP ] Year 2200 , and all ailments have been cured . As a result , however , overpopulation is decimating the Earth . You 're on a top secret board of 9 people that is voting to release a newly developed pathogen that will wipe out 3/4 of the population to start anew . You hold the deciding vote .
| I sat in my soft leather chair, facing the other board members. They all stared either at me, or into the distance with a thousand mile stare. You could tell what their vote was based on their stare. It was even, four against, and the rest for it.
We had only had an hour to decide what to do, wipe out over half the world in order to save it, or let humanity consume itself. It was the toughest decisions of my life, of all of our lives.
I tired to weigh up the pro's and con's, each list was even. It could not be justified in either which way.
I sighed, and place my sweaty palm upon sleeve and checked my watch, four minutes left to decide. I looked at John, my advisor and asked'John, by any chance do you have a coin?', his faced dropped at the realisation of my to be actions.
He mummered to me out of ear shot of the other seven,'Luke, you cant be serious?'
'Please, just give me the coin''. I responded in a low voice; not looking him in the eye.
He grimaced, but handed me the gold coin. I took it off him and placed it atop my clenched fisrt on my thumb.
I breathed out slowly, closed my eyes & thought to myself'Heads, yes, tails no'. I felt a bead of sweat drip off my forehead onto my lap.
I flipped the coin, it was an eternity before I heard the thunk & spinning of the coin on the oak. I grabbed the coin and placed it in my palm. I opened my eyes, everyone was staring at the coin once they realised what was happening.
I looked down, and saw the result.
Tails.
I voted yes anyway.
|
[ WP ] Convicted criminals can choose to shorten their sentence . The only catch is the more it is shortened , the worse the conditions are where they are held . Describe a one night stay .
| 2127... That's my name, or at least it is now. I've been locked up for 13 years so far for a mistake I made. Drunk me thought it was fine to drive and whose and hehold, I killed a lady and her 4 kids. Life with no parol, I guess I deserve it, but I miss my family. I would do anything to see them.
The distinctive click of his cell lock opening woke him from his sleep. Exhaustion gripping him tightly as if he had only slept for an hour or so. He quickly examined himself to check for any scarring. This inmate is known to hurt himself in his sleep.The guard called into his radio to turn the lights on in cell 307. As the light blinded the inmate, the guard began to speak.
`` 2127, get up! The warden wants a word with you.''
Still struggling to see through the sudden bright light, 2127 rose to his feet. The guards were abnormally quiet and the hall is n't filled with its usual noise of inmates yelling and fighting. Finally they reached the garden's office.
The guard opened the door and there stood the warden, gazing out of his window as if this was a movie. The guards left them and shut the door behind them. The warden was a short stocky man, dressed in what appeared to be a cheap tan suit. He turned and smiled, `` 2127, he'll I have n't seen you since one of your'episodes'.'' The stocky man chuckled a bit.
The prisoner knew better than to speak unless told to. He nervously traced the scars on his arms left by his last'episode' waiting for permission to speak.
`` I personally do n't think you're a bad man. I read your file and know it was merely an accident. I have decided to adopt a new program that will allow you your freedom.'' The excited tone did nothing to help the uneasy grin off the warden's face. `` This of course comes at a price. Shorten your sentence and the worse things will become for you here. I can even shorten it to one day, if you would like. I'm pretty sure I already know the answer anyways, what about it champ?''
2127 did n't even blink before nodding yes. Quickly the warden stood up and grabbed the inmate's arm. `` I knew it, I'll even be nice and start the 24 hours now. Follow me.''
More and more hallways, all of them just plain white. After a while the halls appear almost endless. Finally we stop at a door that was way too far from any other door, this made the inmate uneasy. The warden slaps the prisoner on the back, `` 24 hours... Then you're free.'' The warden performed some knock that the inmate could gather was a sign the warden was giving to the person inside. Suddenly the door slowly opened and to the inmate's surprise, a tall man wearing a lab coat appeared from the darkness of the doorway. The warden greeted him with a handshake, `` All right doc, you got 21 hours.'' Quickly the doctor hurried the inmate in. Before 2127 could even speak, the doctor managed to hit the prisoner in the neck with a syringe.
Blood... That's what the warm liquid on his pants was. Pain wracked his body as he began to feel old wounds open again. The inmate screamed in a mix of terror and pain. He looked down to watch the doctor peeling back the skin of the prisoner's right pinky. Everything was so dark, but the pain and screams seemed to make that detail moot.
Slice after slice, now 3 fingers were peeled back. The peel was definitely done by a professional as it appeared you could slimply slip the skin back on. The pink flesh pulsated as the air began to touch the wound. 2127 throws up again.
The doctor removed his mask and looked the inmate in the eye, `` You wanted the shorter sentence, and you were warned.'' A smile crept over his face. `` I can honestly say I do enjoy this. Especially for you. I have opened a majority of your wounds, I hope the pain is worth it.'' The doctor just casually spoke as 2127 shook and vomited in front of the doctor, the pain causing screams.
The demeanor of the doctor suddenly changed as he grabbed the inmate's hair, `` Maria... Chelse... Tiffany... Eli... And of course my wife, Amanda. Do these names ring a bell to you?'' After a moment without a visual response from the tortured prisoner, the doctor grabbed a skinned finger and squeezed. The slick flesh bled like a sponge and the inmate cried out in agony. Quickly 2127 shook his head.
`` They are the ones you killed. I found you and now I swore to make you feel this pain.'' The doctor smiles, `` You think this is your first time here? Sorry, Jake.'' The doctor grabbed a drill from the table, `` I have been a brain doctor for quiet some time, and after I'm done torturing you, I'm going to use this to drill at the back of your scull. I will ensure that all of this is just another'episode'. But I always like to have this chat with you before I make you forget. It is true about your sentence, but I wo n't let you do it, I want you to pay.''
Screams... Horrible screams.
|
[ WP ] in a feudal world , every warrior 's skill is reflected in their blade , the bigger the blade , the less skilled , one day you meet someone carrying just a hilt
| How does one win a swordfight without a blade? Simple. One must batter the bugger with one into the dirt with superior unarmed skill.
Say...
> music starts, to the tune of Monty Python's Every Sperm is Sacred
There are those that use three footers.
There are those that prefer swords with girth and heft...
And there are those who prefer a punch to their cleft.
I'm a martial artist, I've been such since a few years after I was born...
And if you challenge me to a duel,
I'll disarm you of that sword that you've worn!
Every blade is useless, if you do n't know how to use it...
If you take me on now, I'll batter you into the dirt!
There are those that use scimitars,
and those that prefer a claymore to strike blows,
There's those that prefer katanas,
but I've never been one of those!
Every blade is useless, if you do n't know how to use it...
If you take me on now, I'll batter you into the dirt!
( ( this was going to be a really serious story about a karate master using the art of the open hand to disarm and beat his opponents, then this song popped up in my brain. I apologise for the oddity, and as dirt does n't really rhyme with it ) )
|
[ WP ] Every clock in the world simultaneously begins running backwards . No other phenomenon is initially observable .
| James leaned back into his chair, put his feet on his desk, and sipped his coffee. The work was tiresome, and the pay was bearable. As he did everyday at 1:00 A.M., he watched the clock on the wall tick counter-clockwise, plunging himself into his well-traveled musing. He was determined to understand why the clocks had shifted, as if the solution could free him from his work and raise him to the level of the giants. That is n't to say he was n't generally interested in why the clocks had changed, but James was still hopeful that presenting the solution could reel him out of the abyss.
At 12:07 P.M., Steve stopped to speak with James, leaning his elbows on the cubicle walls. The conversation was terse and usual. However, today, Steve finally decided to ask James why he was always staring at the clock on the wall. James replied that he had always been bothered about the time-shift and how nothing seemed to solve the issue. He launched into his mental construct that had remained private for months, years even. He questioned why trying to build any new clockwise models always failed and resulted in the clock going counterclockwise, why the left-hand model for analogs worked, why everyone decided that reversing the time schedule was a good idea when they could have simply kept the same schedule, why all of the electronic clocks fried....
Steve was shocked by the breadth of James's inquiries, but was also quite disinterested. Who'd want to talk about clocks in this suicidal hell of a workplace, he thought. As James continued his rambling, Steve zoned out, chasing fleeting threads of thought from missed memories to forlorn futures in an effort to dissociate himself from the boredom. As Steve woke up just as James was finishing his concerto, he could n't help but think that he did n't like it when James acted like this. He preferred the James who talked about the things that mattered and about where things stand. James was a cool guy, but when he got mentally invested in things, he really would go off the deep end.
As James finished displaying his inner work, James searched Steve's face for any flake of interest, and saw only passive tolerance. The pause hung in the air for a little while, with Steve nodding, pretending to take in all of the information. Then Steve said `` Well,'' and followed through with their inside, workplace joke, `` it's not our place to reason why.''
James finished the now muscle memorized phrase, `` but it is our place to do and die.''
Steve nodded a goodbye, and James resumed his clock-watching. Steve thought he might go to lunch soon, as, after all, it was noon.
The entire population continued their lives, only a few questioning the almost trivial change in timekeeping. The rest left it to the elites, the ones on the case, to solve another pointless mystery. They did not know that the elites had no idea, not an inkling, of where to even begin. The greatest minds were equal with the dullest minds on this problem.
None of them, however, noticed the one kind of clock that should have still been right, but was n't. Sundials were wrong. All of them. How this was possible is impossible to describe in the universe before, but things had changed significantly in the universe now. This outlandish violation of reality would only be the first of the mysteries created by reality's sudden corruption, the initial failure. The world as we knew it was collapsing in upon itself, but people did n't worry because none knew. Only the few in the very beginning had the slightest grasp on the systematic failures that would occur within the next 13.82 billion years. As time fell backwards, however, the few would die out, and then everyone would simply believe that things are how they've always been.
James took a last sip of his coffee, squinted at the clock with distrust, placed his feet back onto the floor, and continued his work.
|
[ WP ] Write a short fantasy story with as many cliches as possible
| I'm not attempting to respond to my own prompt as that would be weird and narcissistic, so consider this merely inspiration for others...
`` Hurry, Simon!'' our heroine said to her bespectacled best friend as he hurried along beside her. `` We ca n't be late for the meeting of the Council of Elders! They are the ones who will decide my fate!''
She slowed to a walk. `` Oh, who are we kidding? We all know they're going to say no, because they disbelieve my heritage, and then attempt to `` protect me'' by locking me up, and I'm going to daringly escape and prove them all wrong by almost getting killed but beating the bad guy by sheer luck. We can afford to walk.''
Simon pushed his glasses back up his nose. `` Why would they disbelieve you? You have proof that you are the long lost child of the greatest and most powerful people in this world, hidden away amongst humans for your protection until you came of age!'' He reached out for her necklace.
`` Well yeah, duh, this is obviously proof of who I say I am, because necklaces are unique. But there are people on the Council who resent my parents for their power, and see me as a threat. They'll sow doubt into the minds of the others, despite the prophecy written about me thousands of years ago that has n't happened to match anyone else yet.'' She tossed her hair over her shoulder and sighed.
`` How do you know that?''
`` Kaiden told me.'' Her sighs turned dreamy. `` You know, Kaiden, the great warrior who rescued me - the one who is handsome, strong and independent.''
`` Dont forget sarcastic.''
`` Ah yes. All the best guys are. They pretend not to like you while really liking you.''
`` How mature.''
`` You're just jealous, Simon.''
`` I actually am, `` Simon said. `` I love you.''
`` Sorry did you say something? I was too busy thinking about Kaiden's eyes. Did you know that he's the best in his class and will become the greatest warrior in the world, but he's thinking of giving it all up for me? Do n't you think that's romantic?''
`` Is this the guy you've known for three days?''
`` Yes but he was trained by my parents, which means I've practically known him for years.''
Simon frowned. `` Can we change the subject?''
`` To what?''
`` How are you feeling?''
`` Pretty great actually. I feel powerful and beautiful and ready to save the world. Considering that before all this happened, I was ugly, useless and overlooked, the type of person who would never amount to anything.''
`` You look exactly the same as you did four days ago. And have exactly the same talents.''
`` Oh no Simon, you're forgetting the extreme fighting skills I picked up after that one lesson of martial arts with Kaiden. Not that we spent much time actually fighting.''
`` I can imagine.''
`` Dont be silly. I'm allowed to be madly in love and share every detail with you. You're my best friend and totally not in love with me. ``
`` But I am.''
`` Shush Simon. We're here.''
|
[ WP ] an unhappy person gains the superpower of mind control .
| These people, they have no idea how lucky they are. The ones who slept during class, the slackers, the jocks with the brain the size of a walnut. All of these stupidity, ignorant people do n't know why the sky's blue. Or why the Moon changed shape day after day.
I envy them, being as stupid as them. I always wanted to not be able to understand why the cars worked the way they do, why Earth orbits around the Sun, why politics are harsh. Why everything worked the way they do.
That's why I liked to go for a walk, through the park, the mall, a ghetto area, does n't matter. I walked so I can hope that some people would be so stupid, that their stupidity rubs off on another. I want to be on that another. But it never works.
So I'm sitting here in the park, trying not to look depressed. I eyed an elderly lady on the bench across me. She had a bag of bird food that she tossed around in front of her. The birds went to it as moth to light. I started daydreaming about the birds wanting more. Where they attacked her and worked as a team to take the bag.
I was unsure if I was dreaming, because it's actually happening right now. The lady screamed in agony as the birds flocked all over her. Crimson red begin to show among the pile, the birds swarmed the bag and it disappeared once they all fly away. I tried not to smile, did I just made this real? How is it even possible?
Then it hit me, I finally asked that question, `` How is it even possible?'' I smiled because I was finally be able to not understand what just happened. I tried again and looked at the two couples staring at the bloody mess I just made, I daydreamed the man to start giggling hysterically.
He started laughing. I stood up, and walked away. Did I just controlled the birds and that man? I begin to think deeply as I make my way home. By the time I got home, I had an idea. I dashed to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror.
I begin to daydream myself stupid, as stupid as a child in a thirty year old body. Daydreaming that the time where I got my Ph.D did n't exist. Then I walked outside and asked myself. `` Why is the sky's blue?''
I... do n't know...
-003
|
[ WP ] If you murder someone , your jail sentence is as long as their remaining life would have been .
| He would be 24, today, and counting. He still did n't know what to think. The doctors said all the key words, `` rare,'' `` debilitating,'' `` uncurable.'' Two years of dialysis, sleepless nights, shots.
He never blamed her. She went one way with it and he the other. She was n't two weeks buried when he took the pillow and -- well, they thought it was SIDS. I mean, who would n't? He was on a respirator, for Christ's sake. He'd already lived past expectations.
But it was n't SIDS. He told them. Did n't see any reason not to. How much time would he do? A week? A month? The quiet of the cell would be a reprieve.
Miraculous breakthrough. New discoveries in gene therapy.
24 years and counting, and nothing stopping him but his father's fear.
|
[ WP ] Everyone is destined to first meet their soul-mate at age 18 . You are 17 , however , you have already been with the love of your life for three years now .
| `` My dearest Cecilia,
I'm writing this letter to you in the half-hour I've been given to prepare in my dressing room at the horrendously-named `` Cupid's Ark''. Do you know why they named it that? Apparently, Remuald, the life-scientist who invented the life-mate matching algorithm saved humanity from a flood of unhappy alliances and in the process, automated Cupid's job profile. The ubiquitous nod to Noah's Ark thrown in for those who do n't understand subtlety. Does any one ever think of all the animals that did n't make it aboard the Ark? The ones drowned in the flood?
Everyone is so happy now. We've seemed to have ended the loneliness epidemic. In the fallout, we've also eliminated the richest fuel of human expression. Just look at our art now! Where is the pain? Why does our poetry lack so much? We used to be creators, now we're just happy being adjusters. We iron out the wrinkles and that's about it. We care not what caused the wrinkles or how it alters the fabric of our existence... I'm sorry Cess, I'm rambling.
Last night was the best night of my life. I am in love with you, I know that now. Last night was when I realized it and that is why I question Remuald's algorithm now. There are three other 18-year old men ahead of me, eagerly waiting for their life-mates. Their joy is contagious but I'm immune. It ca n't be right. This tuxedo feels burdensome. I know in the deepest of my hearts that you're the one and yet it will not be you on the other side of that door today.
What hurts me more is that tomorrow, it will be your turn to meet your life-mate. I ca n't believe we came so close to being born on the same date. What I ca n't come to terms with even more is why did Remuald's perfect algorithm deduce that all unquestionably compatible life-mates must be born on the same day? Perhaps, it was the machine's way of consolidating economy? I mean two birthdays and an anniversary, celebrated on the same day saves a lot of money. Is that what us humans have distilled ourselves down to? Just digits on a calculator?
I must leave you know, my love. It's time Remuald's equation will be put to the test. If the rumoured one in three billion chance of error exists, I hope it is now and dear god, I hope it is I.
I want you to know Cess, that I love you and no matter what happens, I always will and will always want happiness for you. With or without me.
Yours, in this life and the next,
Damian''
`` Damian, it's time'' says Brendan, Damian's father with a soft touch and a warm smile accentuated by the spreading of his greying, fatherly whiskers.
Damian hides the letter in his coat pocket and picks up the bouquet of flowers he must give to his life-mate. He is quiet as a mouse of christmas night, yet stands up straight, a full inch over his old-man.
`` How do I look?'' he asks.
`` You look ready, son'' Brendan replies, hugging his son with a chest swollen with pride. `` More than I was in my time.''
They start walking towards the Rendez-vous area.
`` I wish I was born in your time'' Damian says, `` I would've at least had a choice.''
They reach the doorway. Brendan turns to his son:
`` Love chooses for us all, my dear boy. And no amount of freewill and mathematics can do a damn thing about it.''
They step in to the area and announce their arrival to steward, who duly makes a note. He is asked to wait outside Door 11. There are 10 other happy couples meeting each other and enveloped in loving embrace. Some have know each other for all their lives and some, meeting for the very first time. Everyone believes in the algorithm. It has n't failed in 24 years.
Damian takes his position in front of Door 11. On top of it, a giant portrait of Remuald grinning from beyond the grave.
The door starts sliding up slowly... and...
It's empty.
Damian looks at his father. His father looks at the steward, who shrugs.
`` Daaamiiiiaaaaannnnn...'' a cry in the distance. It's Cecilia running... in a dress!
Damian starts running towards her.
She stops, kicks off her high heels and runs like a schoolboy away from books.
The crash into each other somewhere in the middle and break out of the space-time continuum. She climbs over him in only the most beautiful way an otherwise unwomanly-woman can climb over the love of her life.
`` I love you, Cess. You're the one'' he says as tears run free from his brave eyes.
`` I am the one you silly! I'm late! I was supposed to be behind the door!'' she says.
`` Bu... but... how? You turn 18 tomorrow!'' he asks, puzzled.
`` You were born in India, Damian. India's a day ahead of us''
The changed in barometric pressure caused by Damian and Cecilia's extraordinary, and near-football tackle embrace resulted in a flux in the air. This aforementioned flux, combined with the poor quality of Acrylic paint used on Remuald's portrait caused it to shrink ever so slightly in the general area around his smile-lines, in effect causing an expansion in his grin.
|
[ WP ] A deadly disease is ravaging the world above , as you and a team of scientists sealed in a lab underground are working tirelessly to find a cure , but then something goes horribly wrong ...
| Tensions were high. That can happen when you spend months in isolation with a small group of people, especially when under the type of stress we were experiencing. Just yesterday, Dr. Ramirez and Dr. Brannock nearly came to blows after an argument over the last fruit punch flavored juice box in the kitchen. For the most part though, we resisted the temptation to indulge in such petty squabbles, the world was counting on us after all.
If anything was to be blamed for poor morale, it was probably the long hours we were spending in that damned containment room. The virus only became reactive within an oxygen rich environment, thus we were required to wear vacuum sealed hazmat suits. Connected to each suit was a polymer hose that fed into an oxygen recycling/supply unit. It is a most uncomfortable arrangement to which we were unaccustomed. Trust me, anyone spending an extended amount of time in one of these suits could find themselves screaming about what type of juice they have to drink with their lunch.
I was prepping the DNA primers for my next round of PCR tests when it happened. It was Dr. Cormack who first noticed the abnormality.
`` Um, I ca n't believe I have to ask this, but did someone here just fart in their suit?'' Cormack asked aloud to the rest of us.
`` John, what are you talking about, I do n't smell- oh my god!'' Dr. Goulshan exclaimed, her face twisting into an expression of disgust.
Suddenly, I caught a mighty whiff of the offending odor and nearly coated the face plate of my helmet with vomit.
`` Dear god!'' I screamed, `` It smells like a sulfur mine fornicated with a paper mill!''
Soon everyone was reeling and moaning over this unpleasant disturbance, all except Dr. Ramirez, who's face had turned a shade of beet red. Dr. Brannock took notice of this and was the first to throw an accusation.
`` Manny!'' he cried, `` Was that you? Did you seriously release flatulence into the air supply?''
`` It's all the eggs they've been giving us for breakfast'' Dr. Ramirez sheepishly replied, `` I have trouble digesting them properly.''
`` We have other things available for breakfast you asshole!'' Yelled Dr. Brannock, his expression of anger intensifying, `` I ca n't fucking believe this Manny! It's not just rude and disgusting, it could cause a contamination in our air filtration system!''
`` Now you're overreacting'' Dr. Ramirez defensively replied, `` The sulfur will be filtered out with the rest of the particulate matter, it should n't take longer than 45 minutes or so.''
Dr. Brannock balked at this. `` Oh no problem then, only 45 minutes left to go of breathing in your filth then''
Just then we heard a loud, audible ripping noise which could n't be mistaken for anything other than a second round of passing gas. At first, no one said anything and we just stood there, suspended in disbelief. Then, almost as suddenly, Dr. Brannock screamed `` You son of a bitch!'' and struck Dr. Ramirez squarely across the jaw.
I moved in with the others immediately to break the two apart before things could escalate further and it was not until we had calmed the situation down that I heard it. It was a loud hissing noise, coming from Dr. Brannock's direction. I looked over to further inspect the noise and saw him staring at his hand with abject terror. A visible tear had been cut through the glove of his hazmat suit, allowing for air to rush outward directly into the proximity of a live virus sample...
|
[ WP ] The war on toddlers
| `` Report!''
`` Commander, they've broken through our defenses! They're in the base! I... I'm not sure what happened. I... wait, something's coming... Oh God...''
*What does T-Y-D-V-H-G spell? *
*AAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!! *
``.....Gentlemen, the Toddlers are in the base. It's very possible that we are the last line of defense. I want those doors secured... you, you, and you. Someone get me an outside line to the White House, I do n't care if you have to...''
`` Commander! On the CCTV! B Squad is cornered!''
`` What are they doing to them? Give me audio!''
*21... 22... 23... 24... *
*... I wish we had a big dog and he ate socks. They could be magnet socks and we could glue them to the roof! *
*Caillou got mad because Rosie took his toy, so he got mad and....and then he poopied on his head! *
`` Sir, they're killing them! Jones, Terry, Carson, get your side-arms and...''
`` NO! Dammit do n't you see, they're already dead. We have to....wait a minute, is that Captain Park? Let him in, quick!''
`` They.....ugh....they....''
`` Easy, son, get your breath. What happened?''
`` Sir, they played'Guess which hand the Cheerio is in'...''
`` Mother of God...''
`` It was obvious, sir, they did n't have the hand-eye-coordination to....sometimes they only closed the hand that had the Cheerio, and left the other hand open!''
`` Morphine! Can we get some morphine here for this man, please!''
`` And then....then they set Private Banks in a chair, and they took turns running up and leaping into his arms!''
`` NO!''
`` They must have done it two dozen times, sir. And then would try to climb up on his shoulders... Those elbows they have are sharp!''
`` Commander! Outside the door... listen!''
*Puppy can go in the fort! We're making a fort in your office! *
`` Gentlemen... it's... it's been an honor serving with you.''
|
[ WP ] Write a story that has spoiler tags all over the place . The story has two different meanings : One when reading without looking at the spoiler tags , and one when the spoilers tags are moused over .
| A few days ago, my wife died after [ ] ( # s `` I helped her along with'' ) a tumble off the roof top.
The doctors decreed it an unfortunate accident. God, I was wretched. My wife had died [ ] ( # s `` because of me'' ). I could n't be more despondent [ ] ( # s `` while around my friends'' ).
At home [ ] ( # s `` however'' ), I jumped [ ] ( # s `` for joy, and dived'' ) into my work, in an effort to distract myself from the constant thoughts about her [ ] ( # s `` crumpled body lying on the cold stone tiles'' ). I knew it was n't healthy, her always being on my mind, so I decided to take a trip to get away from it all. [ ] ( # s `` I was finding it was difficult to keep up the act of being disconsolate all the time, and I had some money of hers to spend anyway.'' )
Jeez that was a hell of a lot harder than I first thought. It's so difficult to have it actually sound like a legitimate story!
|
[ WP ] While putting your favorite condiment on a sandwich , you accidentally make a magical occult symbol and summon a demon .
| The honey mustard slowly oozed from the packet and onto the hot bread where it settled, glistening, delicious. My tongue stuck out slightly as I concentrated on arranging the condiment in the mathematically perfect way to put condiment on your sandwich. It was an intricate series of loops and lines that ensured that you got the maximum sauce possible, as warm as possible, and with as little drippage as possible.
`` Ah shit'' I groaned as my phone's ringer broke the soft silence of the Sunday morning. My hand twitched and sprayed a circle of the yellow sauce onto the middle of the design.
**SPAM** read the display. I angrily turned the screen off and sat back in my seat, staring at the ruined design. Thanks to the oddly perfectly circular glob of sauce in the middle, the center of the break would get too soggy before he got to it and the sides of the sandwich would leak it from every direction.
`` Goddamit.'' I reached toward the bowl of veggies to get a few tomato slices.
`` I can arrange that for you.''
I almost leapt out of my skin as I whirled around to see a six foot tall man with a clipboard and a suit standing behind me, uncomfortably close.
His red eyes narrowed in predatorial delight as he took in my terrified expression. `` Never gets old. Anyways, before we begin the process, I need you to answer a few questions.''
My brain, my poor fear-addled brain, almost broke at the casual tone this man was taking.
`` *You broke into my house! *''
He looked around. `` No, you invited me in. That's how it works.'' He looked back at me and cocked his head. `` You did read the *full* guide, yes?''
`` What guide? I was just trying to make a sandwich!''
`` A sandwich?'' He leaned to the side to look at the counter around me, understanding dawning on his face. `` The honey mustard?''
I nodded. I had n't moved an inch the entire time.
`` So I take it that you do not require my services?'' He continued scribbling on his clipboard, disappointment evident in his face.
I shook my head.
'Well, then a cancellation fee must be charged. Close your eyes, sir.''
My eyes expanded in terror. `` What are you going to do to me? Who are you?!''
`` D.Mon Entertainment to the government, a magician to the kids, and your everyday working class man to the devil.'' He said in a practiced tone. `` Now please close your eyes.''
`` Please do n't kill me, I did n't even summon you on purpose oh god oh god oh god.'' I shut my eyes, expecting to feel my soul drain out of my body.
`` We hope to hear from you again soon. Please leave a review on Yelp.''
Silence dominated once more. I slowly opened my right eye and peeked around the room from under my eyelid. No sign of the ma, no, *demon*. I opened the other eye as well and straightened up. Everything seemed to be in order.
I turned back to my counter and then almost threw something.
`` THAT ASSHOLE STOLE MY SANDWICH!''
|
[ EU ] Write an SNL commercial .
| Mashing up an old and new favorite;
Guest star JIM CARREY as MATTHEW McCONAUGHEY is driving and monologuing...
But what makes a luxury car, luxury? This new Lincoln is no more or less a gussied-up Ford Escape than any Audi is a gussied-up VW. Is it the distinctive styling? Fine upholstery? Is a soft ride still importan-
A voice from the back seat interrupts;
OY! OY VEY, SLOW DOWN!! Take it easy, I'm trying to perform a bris back here! an elderly rabbi interjects as the baby starts crying.
Jim/Matthew continues:... I guess it is, then.
Graphic: ~~LINCOLN~~ ROYAL DELUXE MKC. Rides right because we build it right.
|
[ WP ] After reading another generic immortality Writing Prompt , you come to believe that you 're immortal . You actually are not .
| FADE IN:
INT. AN APARTMENT - DAY
*A young man sits on a couch, a laptop computer open on the coffee table in front of him. This is DAVE. His face shows visible awe and excitement as he reads through something on the screen. *
**DAVE: ** I knew it. I knew it!
**STEVE: ** ( *O.S. * ) What?
*A second young man walks into view. This is STEVE, Dave's roommate. *
**DAVE: ** I've achieved immortality!
**STEVE: ** Is that some kind of video game perk?
**DAVE: ** No, I mean that I have literally become immortal. I probably always was!
*Steve stares at Dave for a few seconds. *
**STEVE: ** I'm assuming there's a joke coming.
**DAVE: ** No jokes.
**STEVE: ** So, you've just gone crazy, then. Got it.
**DAVE: ** No, look, I'm serious! Come read this!
*Steve rolls his eyes and sits down next to Dave on the couch. *
**STEVE: ** This is terrible.
**DAVE: ** Just read it.
**STEVE: ** It's like a high school writing assignment. What is this? Did you write this?
**DAVE: ** No, it's just this thing. Keep reading!
**STEVE: ** No, this is awful. Look, the title...
**DAVE: ** ( *Interrupting* ) That's the prompt.
**STEVE: ** The *prompt* has a typo in it, and all of the responses are just people rewriting it in lengthier ways.
**DAVE: ** Those are the rules! You have to follow the prompt!
**STEVE: ** There's a difference between `` following a prompt'' and just regurgitating it. These people are writers?
**DAVE: ** That's not the point.
**STEVE: ** Oh, and *this* moron thinks he's some kind of screenwriter.
**DAVE: ** ( *Shouting* ) *That's not the point! * Do you get it now?
**STEVE: ** I get that you have incredibly low standards.
**DAVE: ** About the immortality!
*Several seconds of silence pass as Steve returns to scanning the screen. *
**STEVE: ** Nope. I'm not seeing it.
**DAVE: ** Look, it's right there: `` Quantum Immortality.''
**STEVE: ** What is that?
**DAVE: ** It's...
**STEVE: ** ( *Interrupting* ) Other than nonsense, I mean.
*Dave sighs with evident impatience. *
**DAVE: ** Let's pretend that you stabbed me, alright?
**STEVE: ** We may not have to pretend.
**DAVE: ** From *your* perspective, I'd immediately die... but from *my* perspective, I'd survive the wound, because my path would split off into another timeline.
**STEVE: ** You've been watching too many bad television shows.
**DAVE: ** It's all right here!
*Dave taps on the laptop's screen. *
**STEVE: ** You're leaving fingerprints.
**DAVE: ** *Immortal* fingerprints!
**STEVE: ** Are those... no, never mind, I'm not going to ask.
**DAVE: ** The fingerprints of an immortal!
**STEVE: ** Yes, that was one option. I'm more worried about the other.
**DAVE: ** You knew what you were getting into when you let me use your computer.
*Steve rubs his forehead. *
**STEVE: ** Look, let's suppose this `` Quantum Immortality'' thing is real.
**DAVE: ** It is.
**STEVE: ** That means you'd just go on getting older and older as you jumped from one timeline to another.
**DAVE: ** Yes.
**STEVE: ** So you'd eventually wind up in a reality that was entirely populated by geriatrics.
**DAVE: ** No.
**STEVE: ** No?
**DAVE: ** No, because in *my* timeline, they'd all die.
**STEVE: ** Because you annoyed them to death.
*Dave looks ready to respond, but seems to stop himself. He stares at Steve for a moment, then grins. *
**DAVE: ** I can prove it.
**STEVE: ** Prove that you're annoying? No need. We have plenty of evidence.
**DAVE: ** I can prove that I'm immortal!
**STEVE: ** Fine, I'll humor you. How can you prove that you're immortal?
**DAVE: ** You would perceive me as dying, right?
**STEVE: ** According to your idiotic theory, yes.
**DAVE: ** Therefore, if you *stop* perceiving me, it means that I'm dead.
**STEVE: **... What? That does n't...
**DAVE: ** ( *Interrupting* ) But the moment that you start perceiving me again, I'll be back alive!
*Dave claps his hands together. *
**DAVE: ** ( *CONT'D* ) *Something* must *keep* me alive in the interim, right? And it must exist independently of your perception!
**STEVE: ** Dave, that's not `` Quantum Immortality.'' You've discovered `` Object Permanence.''
**DAVE: **... Oh.
**STEVE: ** Yeah.
**DAVE: ** Shit.
**STEVE: ** Yep.
*The silence returns for a moment. *
**DAVE: ** Do you think `` Object Permanence'' would make a good Writing Prompt?
FADE OUT.
|
[ wp ] [ nsfw ] Destroy my soul : A challenge to write the bleakest , most hopeless and dark grim fic you can fathom ...
| At first, Edward denied it. *It couldn ’ t be happening, this is only temporary, it will be back in a few minutes. *
Then, he started raging at it. And when he couldn ’ t directly scream and shout at it, he started punching and walls and banging his head at the screen.
And soon after, Edward started regretting. *If only I wasn ’ t so stupid. If only I had more things to do. If only I wasn ’ t so reliant on this stupid magic box. *
And when he finally accepted all of this, he put his head down and started crying. *This is it, there ’ s nothing he can ever do ever again. There is no more purpose in life anymore. He might as well just jump on a building right now and end his life. *
And yet despite all this, Edward looked one more time.
In the bottom right corner of his screen, it flashed: *No internet connection available. *
|
[ EU ] After J. R. R. Tolkien passes away , he finds himself washed up on the white shores of Valinor .
| He rose from the beach, and wandered into the woods. Sunlight flickered through the trees, and he could hear faint singing in the distance. He followed the noise, and eventually arrived at a stone great table, covered in an enormous feast.
Around it sat a variety of elves, as well as a solitary dwarf, who was singing a rowdy tavern song in tandem with one of the elves. Behind the table, in the shade of a great tree ( or was it something more? It seemed to move in the flickering light ), sat two halflings and a tall man ( only it could n't be a man, his skin seemed to exude light, and his features were flawless ) in a white robe blowing smoke rings. The once-wizard suddenly noticed him lingering at the edge of the clearing, and quickly rose to his feet. `` You have returned to us at last!'' The singing stopped, and all eyes turned to him. Olórin turned and called into the woods, `` Lúthien! He is here!''. The sound of rushing feet was heard, and then, the most beautiful of all the Children of Ilúvatar appeared in the clearing. The man from the beach turned to her, and with tears running down his face, gasped `` Edith?''
*In this gray world, of tears and war, *
*For the man called Tolkein, seek no more. *
*For Beren and Lúthien dance forevermore, *
*Beneath the trees, in Valinor. *
|
[ WP ] A technological civilisation reaches its moon , and is greeted by its god .
| An animal stood directly in front of him. Usually, this would not be an uncommon situation. After all, animals frequently stand in front of people. Farmers, for example, are usually found in fields near cows ( this is not just a stereotype ). However, he was not a farmer, and this animal was neither a cow nor in a field.
“ Wow, it ’ s nice to see you. You ’ re here early, ” said the animal. The animal had a set of hoofed legs, which it used to stand. It had two arms about the same length as the legs, one of which was touching the ground, and the other of which was holding a cylinder. The cylinder had a pipe that extended to the creature ’ s large, lipless mouth. The animal sucked at its pipe, then looked back at its subject, expecting a response. “ Don ’ t worry about speaking out loud, I wouldn ’ t listen anyway. ” The animal was not being rude, he was simply stating a fact that was obvious between the two of them. The atmosphere of the moon was too light to carry sound waves, making speech useless. Neil Armstrong looked at the animal unsteadily and backed away.
“ There ’ s an alien out here and it ’ s talking to me, ” he said into his radio.
“ You shouldn ’ t be alarmed, Earth creature. I created your planet, and if I wanted to kill you, well, I could have just not created it in the first place. ” Neil Armstrong stopped backing away from the self proclaimed God. “ —Wait, wait, let me take that back. You people make farms all the time—which, I might add, are the essence of your civilization—for the purpose of killing and eating the creatures that grow on it. Earth is not a farm, it ’ s more of an incubator of sorts. ”
|
[ WP ] Via the miracle of cloning , scientists have brought back from extinction the most deadly animals ever ... humans .
| Dr. Sill peered into the holding chamber, his reptilian pupils narrowing with mixed curiosity and disgust.
`` And you're sure it's supposed to look like this?'' he asked. Dr. Nisk was silent for a moment.
`` Based off of fossil records, most researchers have finally come to a conclusion and are fairly sure that they did n't have tails, but we had to fill in the gaps in the DNA with something,'' he replied. `` Rats are the only mammals around today that were contemporaries of the apes. They're the closest modern relatives to the apes that we have.''
`` So which species is this?'' Sill asked. `` It's relatively hairless compared to some of the others we've cloned.''
`` That's why I called you in to talk about this one, Sill. We've been cloning apes for years now, but when we found this DNA, we did n't recognize it. Sill, I've been observing its behavior, and I think this is what we've been looking for.'' Sill's pupils widened as he looked back into the holding chamber. The hairless ape sat in a corner, weeping, its tail wrapped around it.
`` Nisk... you ca n't be saying that we've finally found them, that we've CLONED one. We have n't even been able to prove yet that they existed!'' Sill exclaimed.
`` Sill, everyone who denies the existence of humans is ignoring the facts,'' Nisk groaned. `` Every fossil we've ever recovered of them -- until recently -- has been too irradiated to extract any intact DNA from. And every time we've tried to make a claim that it's a new species, the scientific community just blows us off and dismisses the fossils as irregularly shaped or proportioned bones from known species, but we've never found chimpanzee or gorilla fossils that are irradiated like this.'' Sill nodded in agreement. `` Why have we never found fossils from confirmed species that were irradiated like this? I'll tell you why: because none of the known species were capable of nuclear war.'' The room was silent for a moment as the ape in the holding chamber continued to emit its unnaturally emotive crying noises. Nisk continued. `` Why are there massive uninhabitable zones on our planet? Are we going to keep believing that radioactive asteroids or some other nonsense is responsible for that? The uninhabitable zones, the irradiated fossils, the mammal extinction event. They're all artifacts pointing to an advanced civilization that destroyed itself, and temporarily destroyed the Earth's ability to sustain advanced ecosystems.''
`` Nisk, you know I agree with you,'' Sill sighed, `` but we need this thing to prove to us that it's intelligent before we can start convincing the scientific community that sentient apes existed at one point.'' Both men stopped for a moment as they realized that the crying had stopped. They turned back to the holding chamber. It was empty.
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[ WP ] Year 2040 , you are tasked with rebooting Harry Potter franchise . Write the first few paragraphs of `` Harry Potter Begins '' .
| **Prelude: **
Reaching into aging desk drawer a man's fingers brushed the burnished metal of the award. The nostalgia of the adventures of his youth whispered through his thoughts he withdrew the medallion.
*Order of Merlin First Class*
He had not wanted the award. He tried to refuse it. In the end he relented and accepted the award as had his friends.
More than a decade had passed since that last grand adventure. Harry Potter of # 12 Church Lane, Godric's Hollow now stood at his desk reminiscing those old days and youthful worries.
He often returned here of late. Desperate for a moment to take his thoughts away from the more pressing matters of the times. Murder in the capital. An entire family wiped out of existence. *The Family*. Gone. And dark magic the weapon of choice of the killer or killers unknown.
The ministry was in chaos. The Auror's Office bombarded with unanswerable questions. Harry, Ron, and their fellow aurors had not been home in weeks. Choosing instead to sleep at the office and do their utmost to discover the whos, the hows, and the whys of this horrendous attack.
A sad smile adorned his features as he made to return the medal to its place. Followed immediately by that sickeningly familiar sensation of being pulled into his navel.
*Pop! *
**Chapter One: Apples & Ancients**
Harry realized with a start that he was no longer at home. Peering around he noticed he stood upon freshly fallen leaves in meadow lit by the setting sun. Completely surrounded by trees bearing a red ripe fruit. Apples
*The medal was a port key?! *
`` Yes. It was,'' replied a cold high voice from behind him.
Harry spun on the spot and looked down upon a youth of about eleven or twelve years. Except the eyes. *Those eyes are ancient. *
A figure Harry had not yet noticed moved from behind the boy. A man in old woolen robes that may have once been blue stepped from behind the youth. He looked like no one Harry had ever seen before, but he was familiar in ways that Harry could not begin to describe.
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[ CC ] My first three tests of writing prompts .
| Hey man, so disregarding your grammatical errors and phrasing in some instances, I think that your writing is good. You do pretty well at describing sequences and are good at avoiding redundancies. You definitely have potential. As far as story goes, you show creativity, but I think that the metaphor one was a little bit weak. That prompt gave the potential for complications due to a misunderstanding, but instead it was just a little girl who did n't get it. It was pretty well written, but the prompt gave potential for much more entertainment ( in my opinion ).
I think that you have a lot of potential and your pacing and level of detail is already rather good. With some work on grammar and story development I can see you writing some amazing stuff. Good luck man. PM me if you ever want detailed critiques! I'm trying to develop my skills as well and I find that doing detailed analysis of other people's work really helps. I did n't do it this time because you posted three and that could take a while.
|
[ EU ] Arkham Asylum closes , because it 's no humane way to treat mentally ill people . You are a social worker who 's job it is to help some old guests of Arkham to find their place in society .
| You know what? The Joker is definitely not as bad as they told me he'd be.
I may just be a newly graduated psychologist, but I'm fully trained, and after helping the new and improved Mr. J. Kerr through the rigors of a job search and new apartment finding, I'm honestly a little surprised he was interred here at all. He's fully aware of his surroundings and his actions, and the consequences - which clears him of many of the major empathy disorders. He's also un-powered, unlike some of the other patients that were slated for rehabilitation.
As far as I can tell, he's just a lonely old man, trying desperately to reclaim action in his life. He's been nothing but sweet to me, too. I'm sure the heavily armed guards helped, but he's never once given me reason to fear him.
I suppose the only incident that stands out to me was the way he acted when someone mentioned Batman near him. He maintained that nigh-omnipresent smile, but it felt like the warmth was gone. I'm not sure what changed in him, but it suddenly made me very nervous. Maybe the rivalry truly is as bad as the reports say it was.
Either that, or maybe the caped crusader should be the one doing community service.
Honestly, who does he think he is, beating up poor Mr. J like that? Batman can take down anyone, even people with strange powers beyond compare, and she spends his time harassing this single man? And what, because his skin was bleached? According to the records that was actually Batman's fault, too!
I really do appreciate the company, though. Sometimes it feels like it's me and him versus the world.
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[ WP ] The inner workings of a serial killer portrayed in the style of the movie Inside Out .
| Disgust reared up at the plate of mac and cheese and would have hit the vomit button if Joy did n't hold him firmly out of reach.
`` I hope mac and cheese is okay. It's Ash's favorite.'' Lily ruffled The Brat's hair with a nervous twitch in her movements, almost as if The Brat were holding her hostage to the evening.
Joy took the controls swiftly, bumping Disgust to the back of the room. Tyler did his signature grin at the plate of clotted cheese and rubber elbows and beamed back up at The Brat.
`` Mac and cheese is my favorite, too! How about that, kiddo?''
Guilt would have rolled her eyes, but Guilt had n't been in the control in four months and everything was riding smooth. It usually did with Joy behind the controls and Lust at arm's reach.
The Brat looked at Tyler as though he could will him to die if he stared hard enough. Tyler thought, idly, that perhaps The Brat would have turned out a lot like him. And of course Lily gaped at Tyler with too wide doe eyes. That part was good. Tyler thought of her as shapeless dough, something easy to ply.
`` Ash, Tyler said something to you. Be polite.'' She made some unreadable face at Tyler, some `` kids will be kids'' expression that was meant to right some unfelt offense. Apathy rolled his eyes.
`` Neat,'' said The Brat, to no heartfelt extent.
`` Ash!'' With a heat of embarassment flaring in her cheeks, Lily could almost be beautiful. She certainly would have been beautiful four months ago, when Lust could be stirred to life with anything less than blood.
`` I'm sorry. He's not usually like this. I think he's just nervous to meet you, that's all.'' The possessive way she said `` you'' sent Hilarity into fits of giggles. You. Like she was introducing The Brat to his soon to be dad. Like Tyler could fit into the neat little family package she had all planned out.
A smile flitted across Tyler's face, unable to be stopped, until Solemnity took the wheel.
`` It's OK. I understand this is n't easy for you, Ash. I'm not trying to replace your dad. You do n't have to worry. Your mother and I are willing to take what we have as slowly as you need us to. Is n't that right, honey?''
The last word sent everyone giggling. It was always like this in the control room, before a kill. The euphoric lift of spirits as Hilarity came closer and closer to the chair. Things were just so hard lately, working those nights.
`` Of course. I just thought this would be a nice way for you two to finally meet.You'll have plenty of time to get used to this, Ash, baby.''
Lily and her too wide doe eyes. There was a brief flare up at the entitled way she spoke of him, like Tyler could ever be hers, some Ken doll to dress up and parade around at farmer's markets and school bake sales, yeah right, Tyler was going to show her he was going to show her if thats what it fucking TOOK
It took some wrestling to get Anger away from the chair, but eventually Hilarity Apathy, and Solemnity held him down as Joy took back control.
`` Actually, now seems like a good time. I have something for you in the kitchen, little buddy. Your mom told me you like baseball?''
Just like that the tension left Lily's eyes and finally Tyler squeezed an eager nod out of The Brat, probably the most enthusiasm he ever displayed in his short life.
Tyler excused himself from the trying-too-hard mac and cheese and the blue checkered tablecloth where the sad little splintered family sat. He went in the kitchen, where he got the baseball bat out of its bag. Feeling its easy weight in his hands made him lightheaded. He ran his fingers along the nails that stuck out from the bat
( get stuck in their heads get stuck in their heads get stuck get stuck )
and thought about how the little boy liked baseball. Lily had even told him how badly Ash wanted a bat.
As the wood cracked down through the air and connected with the mother's head, Hilarity screamed,
`` HOW BOUT A STEAK NEXT TIME, YOU CUNT!''
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[ WP ] People stop aging at 18 years old . They only begin aging when they find their true soulmates .
| `` Do you want to die, Tony?''
The question hung between myself and Eli for a long moment. For the first time, in a long time, I thought about what I was going to say next. Normally I'd rattle off exactly what I was thinking at any moment before stopping to ponder whether or not it was the proper thing to say at the time.
This was different.
The past day and night had been a whirlwind of delights and extraordinary moments. It had all began with her. Her, walking into that garden as if she had always been a part of it. It was *my* garden, I had spent fifty years building the glass pyramid that enclosed it and the grotto beneath. I had spent another thirty years procuring plants and animals from the Amazonian rainforest to house within. Ten different species of dart frogs, anoles and geckos to scurry about, and two families of macaw and conure, which I loved as if they were my own family. A pond teamed with tetras of shimmering colour, their numbers maintained by a pair of pike cichlids. A small stream winds away from the pond, providing a habitat for the more excitable fish who prefer more turbulent waters. Both the pond and stream are observable from my study beneath the pyramid, so that I could be better connected to the ecosystem I maintained.
I was in my study when she arrived, was observing the recent spawning of the cichlids. I saw her shimmering visage looking down into the pool, the light contorting with the ripples in the pool made it seem as though I was looking through a mirror, her face a vision fleeting and obscure so that it took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. I moved to the stairs, ascending with curiosity and trepidation. The locks to my sanctum were *essence* locked, coded to the very core of my being. Only I could open the doors to my keeping, even my friend Eli had to ring for me. However this person had opened my doors and I wanted to know both how and why she had come in.
I rounded the corner into the main pathway and there she was. She was wearing form fitting dress of brown velvet, trimmed with cream. Her hair matched her dress and caught the morning sun in an almost shimmering gleam of chestnut. A wide brimmed hat that matched the colour of her dresses trimmings topped her off, and on her shoulder a purse of burlap to throw me off. She had her back to me, and as I took her in, one of the conures flew down and lighted on her outstretched arm, as if he had known her his whole life.
`` Excuse me.'' I intoned in an almost reverent voice.
She turned around. Her face... I felt as though I had seen it before, on some antiquated film long decomposed, but I knew I truly had n't. Her piercing blue eyes found mine, and in that instant I knew. I did n't believe it, but I knew.
And so did she. Salome, knew it and in that moment an unspoken thought arose, unvoiced, between us, and dimmed the glory of the suns light upon us by the merest of fractions.
We were both dead, and this place with us.
Afterwords, that blissful day was spent exploring each other, I showed her my refuge, and than I led her into the grotto beneath. There the stream above fell twenty feet, so that its mists would water a lone bonsai, standing over a pool of dark water, illuminated by the sun pouring through the hole in the roof of the cavern. There, she told me of her journeys, of her simple house in the mountains that she would return to when she was n't searching the world for adventure and delights. She had walked this Earth for 453 years, and had passed near my place 5 times. Today she had opted to take the scenic route. She had passed by my domain and the doors, sensing our common spirit, had opened for her. No one else had that right.
`` What made you want to enter? I asked.
She thought for a moment and then replied in a voice that was soft as the velvet she wore, and as melodious as a sonata.
`` I think because I've gotten bored of all the things that I've seen more than once. I walked through those doors wanting to see something new. I saw you. I knew what that meant. Ultimately now, we get to be a part of something new even if it means that we must...''
I could n't let her finish. I kissed her, and she knew that it was n't something I wanted to think about. In tears and laughter, joy and sorrow, love was wrought between us.
And so here I was, having coffee with my friend Eli, asking him to be my best man, alerting him to the next phase of our friendship. Of course he blew up. Of course he was sobbing. Of course he would settle down and ask that question.
`` I was dead before I met her Eli. I was a corpse who built and maintained and breathed and had a heartbeat, but I was never whole. I know you wo n't believe me, not now, not yet, but with her I'm whole. With her I have a future.''
`` A Future?! The two of you will have an end. The two of you WILL DIE!!'' I reach out and grasp his arm which was nearly flailing about. It calms him. He looks at me with red eyes. `` This is the beginning of the end. Is n't it?'' He chokes.
`` Only the finite things in life have value, and love is gold, Eli, love is worth it.''
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[ IP ] The Night Shift
| We were n't exactly sure what would happen when we fired up the arcane device in front of us, but does any inventor really know if their invention was going to work until they try it?
`` The stabilization matrix online yet? The other side's been ready for hours now, and we've just started to prepare for signal transduction'', the intercom spoke, static scrambling the message until it was barely understandable.
`` Those damn executives ca n't shut up, can they? How about one of their fat asses come down here and work, instead of yelling at us after they screwed up the scheduling? ``, my co-worker complained, fully aware of the fact that the execs could n't hear us.
`` Do you really want their grubby hands to touch our masterpiece? ``, I asked him, the mask on my face rubbing on my skin.
`` Heh, I guess not. Let's finish this off, I got a story to read.''
With that, we stopped talking, fully devoting our energies to the task ahead of us. Connectors were slotted in, cables were tied, instruments powered up, pumps and fans switched on, breakers reset, emergency power supply established, each item meticulously inspected then checked off in preparation for the main event.
With all the pre-activation requirements checked and verified, I walk over to a big green button. According to the clock, it had been hours since we were decontaminated and put into the aluminum oxynitride room, but it felt like mere moments since the door sealed shut. I flipped the plastic cover up and pressed the green button.
*ACTIVATION PROTOCOL INITIATED. EVACUATE THE ROOM IMMEDIATELY. ACTIVATION PROTOCOL INITIATED*
The electronic voice of the installation AI blasted out of the speakers, yet I could barely hear it.
`` Let's get out of here. I got two cold beers waiting in the observation room'', my partner said.
`` Sweet. Let's go'', I replied.
The airlock was already open for us when we got there. With a hiss and fizz, we were allowed to continue our trek to the observation room. He swiped his keycard in the black plastic card reader. With a mechanical click, the door opened with a blast of cold air. Sitting on the counter, a small cooler. He rushed forward, popping open the white plastic cover and tossing me a can of beer. We then sat down in front of the observation screens as I spoke into the microphone.
`` This is Daniel Strauss, reporting in. Our end is good to go.''
`` This is Chairman Yang. Send it.''
I typed a simple message in the terminal and hit send. My palms were slick with sweat when a message came in on the terminal.
*Homebase Earth, this is the Eden Star Interstellar Colony Vessel. We read you loud and clear. Glad to see you guys again. *
We shot up out of our seats, cheering at our success.
`` You know what? Screw the beer. Drinks on me tonight. We deserve it.''
`` Damn straight.''
-- -
Let me know of any comments, criticisms, etc.
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[ IP ] The Prize
| `` How many did we lose Sergeant?'' Lord Councillor of War, Ibranim Velace glanced at the sullen faces of his officers before turning his eyes back to his convoy. The snowfall had stopped at last, giving way to shallow beams of light that cast ominous shadows against the dark stone faces of towers that watched over the Valley of Lords. His men were battle worn and unused to the frigid north and the winds that blew down the Southern face of the El'ti'Maseem mountain range cut through their armor with a sharper edge than any blade. No surprise that his company's victory would not have been celebrated, if their last engagement could have been called that.
`` 70 lost. 120 wounded. That's just the first count. I sent a falcon to the closest outpost to notify them of incoming. Perhaps they will listen,'' Sergeant Kellem's hand tightened around his sword, `` but perhaps this is a fool's hope.''
`` There will be warm food and beds for two nights at most. Let the men know that they have earned a reprieve. Once we deliver the'proof' the Council demands, I imagine we will be sent out once more soon after,'' Ibranim shook his head, `` even fools would have know better.''
`` M'lord, certainly-,'' Kellem protested.
`` -We have been over this before. We have our obligations. To the council, my voice is one of violence and has no place within their ivory halls,'' Ibranim sighed to himself, `` we will do what we must.'' He understood the challenge he and the Council faced. He was but the military adviser, the sword of the Council. But what the Council fought was not the war to the South, but the war within. Ibranim, at the very least, counted his blessing of being able to face his enemy. Indecision was by far more frightening. To Ibranim, indecision was paid for in the lives and loves of fathers and sons, mothers and daughters.
`` Elaria was among our lost. Was she worth it sir? Was she worth... that thing?'' Kellem gestured towards the cage his men trudged through the snow.
Ibranim broke gaze, his eyes searching into the distance for an answer, his mind knowing what it was, and his heart crying against the both of them. Many lost. Thousands more before the Council might listen to reason. The thing to which Kellem spoke of with such disgust was only to be the first.
`` Yes,'' Ibranim whispered, `` as are we all. This is the life we have chosen. This is the life we will live. This is the life we will lose. Ours for millions more.''
`` Sir,'' Kellem shivered, but not from the air.
`` Enough Kellem. Move us along. Our'proof' does n't do well in the cold.''
`` Neither do we, Ibranim.''
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[ WP ] You are trapped . There are only two paths .
| I came to a stop as I reached my destination. Frigid winds briefly cut through my armor and clothing before I stepped foot in the cave. I looked around at the frozen floors and walls, seemingly glowing a soft blue the ice went so deep. Looking around I knew I was too late. The keepers of the artifact lay broken and slain, a few still twitching. Their deaths were recent, it had to be him. How had he beaten me here much less known where this was?
The nightmare that had fallen on me in this new present approached the destroyed vault door. `` Looking for this?'' he mocked, holding my salvation loosely. Crimson eyes met mine, it was strange having an opponent who did n't fear me at all. The few who had before were either too stupid or were looking for death. This man just did n't feel like I posed a threat. The frustrating part was he was correct, our previous battle had been one-sided. I knew he was willing to kill me as for him it would be the second time.
I was almost unprepared when he tossed the amulet to me. I felt the cold hard surface, the familiar grooves. `` We can escape'' the thought sprang into my head suddenly. `` Why?'' I asked, staring at my son, sensing a trap. `` Because I hate you'' he said quietly. `` Ever since I killed you, you've been a martyr for the people to rally around.'' He glanced at his missing arm for a moment before continuing `` not that they're a threat to me of course, but the greater victory is breaking their spirits. Breaking their bodies can come after.''
I felt the reassuring weight in my hand as I wondered what he was getting at. I knew I could escape to the past with a thought so I waited. `` If you hate me so much why not just kill me?'' He sneered at me and I could feel his power and hate in the very air. `` Everyone thinks you're so brave, the mother of the monster fought fearlessly to the last. What I know, and what you're about to prove, is you are n't fearless. You were just too stupid to think you'd fail.''
He took a step towards me and I took a step back. He broke into sharp barking laughter. `` Aside from that it does n't matter, you can return to your timeline and you wo n't be safe. I'm there, I can feel his hate echoing off you. He'll come for you, and he'll kill you. Your only purpose in this world is to serve as an obstacle to force me to hone my powers.'' Another step forward and another step backwards. `` So what is it going to be, die with honor or run away? I know you're going to run, you're really so arrogant as to believe you can even change anything.''
Another step, and I knew it was time to go. I could hear his laughter echoing behind me. I arrived a few days before my counterpart. I had to stop myself from changing the past. After only one day I had arrived where I knew I'd be when I came back the first time. Two days, two days of agony as my wounds refused to heal, two nights of feverish sleep, red eyes and mocking laughter haunting my dreams. When she arrived I knew I was dying. Somehow the corruption of his spirit was contagious, burning me to my core. I transferred the necessary memories to my slightly younger self. Showed her his face, his power, the future. Skipped letting her know the time amulet was only good for one round trip and without any significant change to the timeline there'd be no new amulet to bring her back. Did n't know he'd let us go, so sure he'd just finish me off in our own time. Better that she stay brave and confident.
`` So this has been for nothing? We still do n't get our son back?'' My voice came from the other lamenting a pain I was all too familiar with. I held her, my, hand. `` Not for nothing, we can come up with a new plan, and now we know his face.''
After she left for our original timeline I destroyed my time amulet and felt myself fade away.
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[ WP ] You 've been sentenced to die by being locked in a cage in the middle of a hot empty desert .
| **DRY**
All words carry with them meaning, they have their established meanings set down in dictionaries but they also have meanings personal to us. Something happens and you attach a certain meaning or emotional resonance to a word. Love; you think of the first person who ever took your heart... And how they broke it. Fear; you think of nightmares as a child and the times as an adult when your life has been in peril. However it was n't until now that'dry' had taken on such a profound meaning.
You never knew you could fell this thirsty. Parched did n't even begin to cover it, you felt like even your bones were crying out for moisture. You eyes sunken in your face, lips cracked and bleeding, blisters on your head, shoulders and back. You were n't far off praying for the death that was slowly coming to hurry up and come. This was how the Golden Palace dealt with thieves. Dotted around the dunes were other cages, each with a sun bleached skeleton inside. You could feel the haziness that was coming over your mind as the heat fried you and consciousness began to slip away.
This would be one sleep you would not wake from. Your flesh would feed the vultures and your skeleton would serve as a warning to others. That was your fate, a miserable end to a meaningless existence. You look up at the sun one last time and even though it hurts your eyes you smile. At least all your creditors would remember you, although not fondly.
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[ WP ] Describe the face of someone you love
| The barely visible scar that runs across his forehead, skips down his nose and lands on his chin is what caught my eye when we first met. It was hardly there and you could only see it if you leaned in close to tell him a secret or kiss him.
His eyes, deep set, dark brown and freckled with specks of the sunlight, enclosed by his glasses, told you that he could be trusted with all of your thoughts. His eyes showed his soul. They were highlighted by his thick eyelashes, thicker than mine and I envied him for that. Tiny lines formed under and next to his eyes when something made him truly happy. I make a point to find those lines every day.
His lips, o god his lips, they are perfect. Framed by his mustache, smooth and soft, untouched by the scar. Its an honor to see him smile. The corners of his mouth turn up in such a beautiful way. One tiny dimple forms on his right cheek, so small I do n't think most people would notice it unless they were actively looking for it.
He's so perfect I want to cry.
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[ WP ] Due to an address mix-up , an elementary school class sends their Pen Pal letters to an elite unit of Space Marines . Today , the Space Marines are sending a response .
| Dear Finn,
This is GoldPilot 27-G, Ian Stunts. Thanks to you and your friends for your letters to our station, GPS 442, they've really chivvied up everyone on-board.
Your drawing of you, your Dad and your vintage Hammond SS7 is really nice - your Dad is very lucky to still have one of those things in the air! It is a shame that the outer-atmospheric shielding is faulty, as the parts to repair it are not easy to come by. But, if you and your Dad ever do fix the shield, then you're in for a real treat. Space is an awesome thing to see for the first time, it's so vast and beautiful.
I'm sorry that your friend Jens has passed away. I myself have lost a friend too recently - GoldPilot 28-G, Zoe Banks. She was my co-pilot, so she was as close to me as you and Jens were. I hope you have many happy memories of you and Jens that you can look back on, as that's what's really important. I remember the first time I met Zoe, back in boot camp. The first thing I noticed was her mood - nothing could really bring her down. A stain in her uniform? It'd wash out. A dint in her cabin? It'd buff out. Spilled coffee? She'd buy another. She was always an optimist, which was what I loved about her. Even though she's gone now, I'm not too sad. I think her confidence has rubbed off on me.
Anyway, I suppose I should answer some of your questions!
* My favourite drink is orange juice, as it reminds me of my home, Florida! Have you ever been to Florida? It's a beautiful place.
* I'm scared of the usual stuff really; Spiders, Wasps, and deep water are my worst fears. I can swim, but I do n't like doing it in deep water!
* The weirdest thing I've seen is the vessels our enemies ( the nasty Chik-Tan aliens ) fly. They're almost like mechanical tadpoles. The way they move is really strange! Luckily, we have n't seen any in quite a while now, which is why I have time to write this letter to you!
* What am I *wearing*? That's an unusual question for a young guy like you to be asking! Well, currently I'm wearing my casual uniform - A shirt, tie and jeans, and also my weighted deck boots. When I'm in my ship with my co-pilot, I have heavy armour and a helmet on, with my casual stuff underneath. The armour's really cool looking, and makes you stronger!
Well little buddy, that about wraps this up. I hope you get my letter soon! Keep studying, and maybe someday, you could be a GoldPilot like me!
Yours in the sky,
Ian
P.S. I've attached with this a pic of my fighter, a Thunderhawk T2. She's a bit bigger than your Dad's Hammond, but just as zippy! Please excuse the scuff marks around the blasters, we have n't had chance to clean her off just yet.
P.P.S Please thank your Teacher for getting you guys to write these letters. Seriously, it means a lot to us. Morale on-board has been somewhat down, but this has perked things up a bit. We'll be thinking of you all when we next fly!
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[ CW ] Write a poem wherein , when read forward it is from the perspective of a murder victim . Read backward , it is from the perspective of the killer .
| *I hope free verse is acceptable here. I'm from /r/all and this caught me as I was scrolling. *
You've gone cold
You do n't respond, though
I try to say I'm sorry
How I never really meant to hurt you
How foolish I've been
I try to tell you how much I love you
That's not how hearts work
No matter how badly I want to take everything back
I never realized how fast; how strong these hands really are
I want to scream, but I'm cut off
It's just you and me, the way we always liked it
The air left my lungs a lifetime ago, but I only feel its absence now
I start to notice small details, like I'm dreaming
Your fingernails dug in like little knives
Blood trickles down my flushed skin from cold pinpricks
Though I'll always wonder
I realize I'll never get to know why you went so far
You just look so tired...
And the bruises make it look like you have n't slept in days. Have you?
Spittle has coagulated at the corners of your mouth
There are tears in your eyes.
I let go.
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Write a story that seems scary until the last sentence . [ WP ]
| This was the first time she had been beaten by her grandfather, but it certainly would n't be the last. At the mere age of nine she had taken strike after strike in agony, crushing her very soul.
She was helpless. A shroud of fear and pain enveloped her for the next few years. Her grandfather's ruthless strikes ate away at her until she was a defeated victim.
Her parents were of no help. When she kept telling them of her pain and sorrow, they told her that she needed to `` improve her attitude''. She was trapped in a vicious cycle once every month for the weekend, when her parents sent her to her grandpa's.
At the age of 15, however, fear turned into conviction. A fury built up in her. She prepared for retaliation.
When that time of the month came and she had to stay with Grandpa, she made it a point not to let him beat her again. She did n't want to be the helpless victim that she was. She was ready.
All of that soon flew out of the window. He was too much. His strikes overpowered her.
Once again, her Grandpa had beaten her at Wii bowling.
*The first sentence is not original. Credit goes to someone from a tandem writing thread demonstrating how one can hijack a plot to make it less dark.
Also, I know this is more dark then scary, but I really felt like it fits. *
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[ W P ] You get to heaven , God is a dog .
| My legs could stretch all the way again. They could bend without creaking. The skin on them was smooth. I pinched and stroked my thighs, wondering how they'd known exactly how much skin to grow so none drooped, but none pinched from tightness either. I never wondered that last time my skin was smooth.
I stopped poking my thighs and looked around. I was standing in the batter's cage of a baseball diamond, in a park, surrounded by woods. It had been a long time since I'd faced a diamond from home base.
I squinted at a fuzzy dog sitting on the pitchers' mound, waiting patiently for the fuzziness to disappear. Then I realized the sand the dog sat on was not fuzzy. Neither were the woods 50 yards behind it; neither were my hands in front of me.
My mind reeled with the understanding that I could see perfectly. I looked at the dog again. He was n't fuzzy - he was glowing. A glowing dog. A glowing, patient dog, watching me calmly from the diamond's center.
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[ WP ] You work for a Time-Tourism Agency that takes people back in time to witness historic events . The customers are n't supposed to be seen or heard and ca n't alter the event in any way . But you discover that , somehow , somebody has .
| `` Tim, someone keeps changing the past.'' Harry had rushed into my office, flapping a piece of paper.
`` Again? I thought the Chronos constraints would...''
`` Apparently they've done squat. Look!'' Harry slapped the paper on my desk. I looked. It was a squiggle.
`` And...?'' It was too early on a Monday for art interpretation.
`` Just look Tim'' Harry pointed at the paper. I sighed, and gave it my all. I stared at the squiggle: a type of equation that... Damn. The signs of the equation kept changing.
`` I'll look into it Harry.''
1936, Princeton. I crept through the door to the laboratory and saw my prey. Hidden in a looping time bubble, a bunch of students were giggling. Drunk, of course ( when has a student not been? ).
`` Right lads: one, two, three, *observe*!'' The group stared at the man scribbling on a chalkboard. The man frowned, then brightened as an epiphany struck and he turned to scribble his genius down.
The students, meanwhile, crowded round a laptop.
`` Lets see, lets see, what's changed...'' muttered the one in charge of the mouse. `` Aha! Hubble recalculated his Constant! Tee hee hee.'' The group started giggling, and re-set their loop by 30 seconds. I flickered back to follow them.
`` Right, now Geoff, Dave and Samantha, you observe Einstein, while the rest of you stare at... that orange. Ready? One...''
I coughed loudly, startling the group.
`` Who are you? Quick, Dave, is the bubble down?'' The students started to panic and flap around. They froze as I pulled my badge.
`` Detective Tim Noctis, of the Time Agency.'' I smiled pleasantly. `` Did you know, ladies and gentlemen, that collapsing of the quantum superposition to affect the course of history is illegal under the Chronos Constraints of 2354?'' The blank look of fear indicated their ignorance. I sighed. `` Well, under the Constraints, I have power to issue summary judgement, up to and including *death*'' They flinched at that. Always good to introduce terror.
`` *Luckily*, I'm inclined to be merciful.''
`` Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.'' The laptop guy bowed and they heaved a collective sigh of relief.
`` That does n't mean no punishment. Let's see... two days in the stocks circa. 1232AD should do.'' I cracked my knuckles. `` Unless one of you twits cares to object?'' I glared at the group, whose eyes had suddenly decided that observing the floor was the best course of action.
`` Good.'' Turning to the resident of the room, I nodded my apologies. `` Sorry sir, for the trouble.''
`` That's quite alright, Detective.'' Einstein waved politely, to the shock and horror of the students. `` They were quiet at least. Not like that Stephen fellow, eh?'' I supressed a shudder. The Hawking Wars had been brutal.
`` No sir. And it's a plus there sir, not a minus.''
`` Is it? Ah...'' he turned back to the board, history restored, as I dragged the students to their fate of stocks and mouldy cabbages.
|
[ WP ] You 're traveling on humanities first spaceship capable of intergalactic travel . After entering hyperspace , panic breaks out on the ship .
| It had been an eventful month aboard the USS Endeavour. Even with her crew of fifteen it felt as though I had been working non-stop. As we passed each section of the solar system there seemed to be an endless supply of tests to be conducted, reports to be written and results beamed back to earth. I never imagined how tiring it would be to work in this weightless environment but I also couldn ’ t have imagined the feeling of flying through space, venturing further than any human had before us.
I realized now all the work had kept my mind off this day. It occurred to me that perhaps mission control had planned our schedules as such to stop us from thinking on it, I would have to thank them for that. No amount of training could prepare me for the feeling of entering hyperspace, entering the unknown.
I sat strapped into my control console going through the checklist one more time to make sure it was in order. As I looked out the window I could see Neptune coming into view and felt my heart start to jump against chest. This was it, we would achieve our last gravity assist from Neptune then turn on the drives.
Looking around the empty engineering capsule made me wish I was at a station with some of the team. Cracking a couple jokes would have eased my mind. As if in response I heard the crackle of commander Zane Hill ’ s voice over my headset.
“ Howdy boys and girls, I ’ ve just heard from mission control that we ’ re allowed to push this hunk of junk into fifth gear, how do you fancy that? I ’ m going to run through our checklist, confirm everyone has performed their checks and we can hit the road. ”
The next twenty minutes were filled with technical jargon and confirmations. As I performed my roll call and system checks I tried to keep the tremor from my voice. I was almost glad to hear Yuri, Sheala and Mike ’ s voices shaking as they went ’ through their prompts - at least I wasn ’ t the only one. Hearing their emotions helped break me out of this feeling of isolation, isolation from the crew, from the earth - from the reality I had always known.
As Zane started the countdown it was all I could do to keep myself from shaking with fear. It was difficult to monitor the controls with all the thoughts running through my head. No one had ever tried this, who knew if it was even possible? But, oh, how possible it was.
I don ’ t remember much after we achieved hyperspace. I remember the intense flash following by the empty darkness outside the Endeavour. I remember looking out and not seeing any stars, looking back down at our navigation systems and seeing location unknown. Then it ’ s hazy - until I saw Zane ’ s face through the gas mask spraying me with anesthetic. They kept me unconscious for the next two months before deciding to wake me up - I really wish they hadn ’ t.
-- -
Check out [ Part II ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/thewritinghabit/comments/2yiped/hyperspace/cp9vx63 ), [ Part III ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/thewritinghabit/comments/2yiped/hyperspace/cp9vxno )
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[ WP ] Satan does an AMA .
| SATAN HERE AMA
submitted 18 hours ago by NoBlueDressNeeded
Hi! A few thousand years ago I got into a fight with my old boss. Now I'm known by a few different names. Lord of Flies, Prince of Darkness, Father of Lies, The Devil, Satan, Old Scratch, and Lucifer just to name a few. I'm here to answer any questions. Let's do this!
-BunnyF00F00 147 points 4 hours ago
> Hey Satan! Long time follower! I've been worshiping you forever and am looking forward to serving you. Please grant me your dark powers.
-NoBlueDressNeeded 120 points 4 hours ago
> Look, Thomas Stafford of Baton Rouge ( 11th grade, mother's name is Tiffany and dog's name is Muffikins ), we've been through this before. You are not my disciple. I do n't actually purchase souls. I already get the souls of anyone who is willing to sell them so why bother? You and I never made a deal. You are n't worshiping me. You're just being a prat. Try making friends for a change.
-GreatandPowerfulAaahz 90 points 3 hours ago
> Thanks for doing this! So why did you decide to do an AMA? Love your work, by the way. The Black Plague was one of my favorite historical diseases.
-NoBlueDressNeeded 87 points 2 hours 55 minutes ago
> Thanks Aahz, real name Benson Peebles of Washington DC. I just thought that, you know, it's about time I set the record straight. My old boss wrote a whole book telling his side of the story. Then we got that whole nonsense about Dante's Inferno, Paradise Lost, and the Faust stories mixing up the whole thing. Since the whole thing is, finally, out of cosmic court I'm now allowed to talk about it.
-TheGreatandPowerfulAaahz 126 points 2 hours 30 minutes ago
> Did you just say Cosmic Court? You mean you took God to court? How does that even work?
-NoBlueDressNeeded 155 points 2 hours 23 minutes ago
> About as well as you expect. Take a wild guess who is the judge. Here's a hint. He's also the prosecution and the jury. I tried to get him to be my lawyer as well.
> > Look, as I was saying. It was all a bit of a mix up. I was working in the garden section and I made a bit of a screw up. I got canned and we've been fighting it out in court ever since.
-Yodawgsuxeggs 22 points 1 hour 15 minutes ago
> What is the afterlife really like?
-NoBlueDressNeeded 15 points 1 hour ago
> The best description I can give of it is to imagine you are a fly and you are buzzing around in a room where a bunch of clowns are juggling knives and flaming torches while someone blares Enya from the corner. After an eternity of bouncing between things trying to kill you in mid air you land in a bowl of honey and get stuck. That's when an incontinent rottweiler squats over you and pinches a dog log. Imagine that mix of terror, relief, surprise, revolution, and indignation. Got it? Okay, now, the afterlife is n't much like that so just think about almost anything else and you'll certainly be closer.
-raelslimshandy 6 points 42 minutes ago
> So the Christians were right after all?
-NoBlueDressNeeded 5 points 23 minutes ago
> Bit premature to say that anyone was right. More like you are all hilariously wrong and that the universe as well as all the higher beings in it are laughing at you behind your back and openly mocking you.
-semiloki 1 point 15 minutes ago
> Why are you even on Reddit anyway?
-NoBlueDressNeeded 1,197 points 5 minutes ago
> No, that's what we've been asking of you. Why are you even here? What can we do to see less of you here?
-TheRealHitler 173 points 2 minutes ago.
> Wow! Getting trash talked by the dark one! You must really suck, dude!
-NoBlueDressNeeded 1 point 1 minute ago
> Adolph get off of here! Your AMA is n't until next week!
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[ WP ] A mother-daughter pair gets cursed to be reborn endlessly . When one dies , the other will instantly become pregnant with her reincarnation .
| It had been going on for centuries. Mother to daughter, daughter to mother. For nine hundred years their fates had been fused, unable to escape each other for long. As the mother died, her soul was denied a path to the afterlife and forced into the womb of the child, to be reborn and take the opposing role.
Once the child was only nine years old.
But today... today the would escape their fate. Nine hundred years of torment would end- no more watching lovers died, no more forced pregnancies, no more grandchild-siblings. They had both had enough of the world... and each other.
That was why it had to end. They'd waited until the daughter-mother was old enough, and both bought a revolver. They had one last meal together, with a good wine. They hugged each other one last time, and said their goodbyes.
They each pressed their revolver against the other head, straight between the eyes.
Three...
Two...
One...
...
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[ WP ] The moon is a grape .
| `` Dad, what's the moon made of?''
`` Well, the moon's actually a giant grape in the sky.''
`` What?''
`` Yep, and not the same grape, either. It's a different grape every day. That's why it changes shape.''
`` Well where are the grapes coming from?''
`` They're manufactured in a facility in Florida.''
`` But... that does n't make sense! How do they get the grapes into the sky?''
`` They attach rockets to it. They wait for night, and then fire the rockets, and the grape flies into the sky. After a while, the giant grape falls down somewhere people do n't have enough food to eat, and they can eat it.''
`` But how do they know where the grape's going to land?''
`` You can do a lot of things with math, Calvin.''
`` Dad... if this is one of your ways to get me to go do my homework...''
`` Later, son. Let's just admire the grape together for a bit longer.''
|
[ WP ] You never smiled in your life . After overhearing this , a random girl makes it her duty to make you smile .
| `` You know, this is bordering on harassment,'' I told her. `` I do n't even - Whose friend are you again? Johann's? Nikki's? Who told you about me?''
`` Oh, no one,'' she said sweetly, skipping around me to keep up. `` I just heard you talking about it. It's sad! Not being able to smile! This is a public service! It's like charity - you do n't need to know someone personally to want to help them.''
Her curls bobbed around her head as she beamed up at me, her eyes twinkling. I swallowed down bile. `` I assure you, it's not sad. I have - I have happy emotions, just like everybody else. I just do n't facially express them. It's a...'' A burst of inspiration struck me. `` It's a condition. A medical condition. My smile muscles do n't work. So you see, unless you're a doctor, there's nothing you can do for me.''
She frowned at me, her lips pursing. God help me, it made her look even more adorable. `` I do n't believe that. You can frown just fine - you're frowning right now! And it takes more muscles to frown than to smile!'' I wanted to kill her. I wanted to drive a hammer right between her eyes and liquefy part of her brain. Sure, people have been commenting all my life on how humorless I was. But no one had ever been anywhere this persistent about it before. `` Have you ever tried smiling before, mister? I bet you'd like it!''
`` Oh my god,'' I said. `` Would you please take a hint and - No! What are you doing!''
I flinched away as she jammed her fingers into my sides, wriggling them. `` I bet this'll make you smile!'' she said. Her own smile was bright and toothy. `` Coochie-coochie-coo!''
`` This is harassment!'' I screamed at her, stumbling backwards and tripping over my own feet. I was on the ground, trying to curl up, away from her probing fingers as she kept trying to tickle me. `` This is physical assault! Do n't you fucking - hHhhHhha - Stop it! STOP IT!''
`` Okay then,'' she grinned. `` I'm not going to stop it.'' And she dove in harder.
`` You do n't understand,'' I gasped, doing my best to keep my face impassive. `` I - hahah - I ca n't smile. I ca n't smile! I ca n't - oh god hhahahahhahaha!'' The smile spread across my face against my will, straining against my cheeks.
`` There you go!'' she cried out triumphantly, sitting up to look at me. Her own smile faltered, and gradually faded. `` Mister? Mister? Uh, are you okay?''
`` You idiot,'' I said, my smile unbounded, peeling past my cheekbones, exposing an endless row of teeth. `` I tried to tell you. But you could n't fucking mind your own business, could you?''
`` Oh god,'' she said, in a little-girl voice, and stumbled backwards off me, falling on her butt. `` I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.''
My smile peeled through empty space, unseaming the fabric of the world, exposing the intricate interlocked gears of teeth. `` Oh, it's too late for that,'' came a voice through my smile. `` It's far, far too late.''
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[ WP ] Aliens invade earth . To the surprise of humans , the alien 's weaponry is pitifully outdated .
| * 3 years ago, Earth time 13:41:02 17th June 2015.
`` What is it?'' Steve asks.
`` I do n't know man, it's like some kind of a portal I think, government shit'' His brother Joel responds.
`` Yeah? How do you know that?'' Steven prods him with a sigh, preparing for another one of his brother's conspiracy theories about the government and the ruling elite.
`` Because, I saw it on Reddit, people are walking into the things. Some people have walked through and walked back, they described a whole weird ass environment. I'm telling you man, the government made this technology and has opened portals onto another world.'' Joel says excitedly.
`` Because you saw it on Reddit? Was this the front page or one of your stupid subs?'' Steven's mix of disbelief and apathy are palpable.
`` You do n't have to believe me man, you will soon enough, this is already all over all the big news stations. Everybody is covering it. They are just lying about what it is, so nobody goes near them.''
`` Look brother, if this was a government `` portal'' as you call it, they would have A. guards all over the thing, and B. they would have opened it on a secret military base, not in the middle of nowhereville Utah, and nowhereville France.''
`` So, you have been watching the news.'' Joel accuses.
`` yeah, I've seen some, it's not a portal from the government, that's a stupid explanation. For the reasons I already told you.''
`` Whatever Steve, you'll believe me soon enough, when we start sending colonies through.''
* Present day. Earth.
Three years ago these giant black blobs started appearing out of nowhere. They looked like a nasty rip in the air. The first one appeared in Utah, then France, then India, then China, and the last in Chile. Nobody knew what they were, people speculated they were government made, others that they were alien made. A few brave peopled walked through them and described strange trees and rock formations like nothing seen on Earth. Then people that went through stopped coming back. The governments around each of these strange portals set up guards and military blockades.
Then all hell broke loose, small humanoids came through in waves, wielding knives, swords, clubs, bows and arrows. They were faster than us, and some came riding in on giant six legged lizard looking beasts. The first wave was cut down with hardly any casualties. Everyone laughed at the primitive weaponry of the aliens.
Then they came again. Nobody laughed as they came by the billions, then what must have been tens of billions. They flooded the land, slaughtering any humanity before them. Ammunition stocks ran low and dried up, or were lost behind what was now alien territory.
They were slaughtered by the billions, and yet they kept coming, and coming. a short three years later and humanity is reduced to 3 strongholds. What is called the northern islands, the pacific islands, and Africa.
This is where the tale begins.
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[ WP ] The Devil appears before you and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder , `` Look , we need to talk about you putting me in every Writing Prompt . ''
| `` Look man I really like you, I really do but I do n't need your mystical arts to sucking this post''
Him `` but, but what about all the other porplz they needed my help. I wrote the blues I did it with this Robert guy, he dead but he was a good one, I even helped da Vinci dig those coffins up, you know was n't it helpful?''
`` Welp yeah me d you are great sometimes but you are n't need like all the time, who needs your help with a shitty Reddit post I mean I'm your second son but why are you always around and so uncomfortably near me?''
Him `` it's my fetish you know, love little boys and see them as a nice practicing tool for becoming a better Devil and shut up your not a son of mine''
`` Come on are n't I something, I'm good looking, play the guitar like a boss, devil what do you do around 3 o clocks tonight''
Him'' I do n't like where this is heading''
`` Come one D I know you want the D; )''
Him'' why are you touching me, ok that's not the spot you're a weird guy, fuck your weird''
`` Ah your boring, see why do I need you man, your just a religious bullshit talking fanatic who has balls do heavy it could kill a horse, why should a guy like me hang out with you''
Him'' wait are you turning this around, you have really the balls to turn this around, motherfucker I'll kill you fuck this post, you die''
*somewhere in heaven*
Him'' yeah that kid just keep talking you know I had to come here''
God'' ah kid yeah I know that guys really weird he likes Nutella and guitar I do n't know what's up with him''
Him'' what can you do about it dad''
God `` well just ignore him and give him some medicine he'll come down eventually.... if you know what I mean''
Him'' dad I, i, think...... i love you''
God `` come here you dirty little whore''
*a loving but hard incest begins to take shape*
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[ WP ] Medical science has evolved to create a more humane way to keep people on life support for long periods of time . A computer generated life story is put into their brain , allowing them to live a full life in their head . You are a virus in the system .
| James Samuel was not someone a normal person would call `` a good man''. The head of a small, organized crime ring, he's participated in more than his fair share of violence and debauchery. All of his efforts, to be one of the most powerful men in the underbelly of society, led him to his current state – comatose for several months in a private hospital room. The result of a firefight with one of his many rivals.
At the very least, medical science had evolved to create a humane way to support patients on long-term life support, by allowing them to live full, fulfilling lives within the confines of their imagination. In his mind, he continues to rule the criminal world with an iron fist, but that doesn ’ t quite sit well with the many enemies of James Samuel.
In the real world, two men are standing next to James ’ comatose body. One keeps watch in the hallways, while the other inserts a USB flash drive into the medical support systems that drive James ’ dreams. A light on the USB flashes red, indicating that the operation has started.
The process injects me into ‘ his ’ world, and it initializes itself before me. I ’ m in the alleyways of modern day San Francisco, just before the onset of winter.
First things first: time to see how much I can do here. Joining the crowds on the sidewalks, I ‘ accidently ’ bump into this smoking hot blonde, wearing a large fur coat. The coat slowly dissolves into tiny black grains of sand, leaving the lady in nothing but a skimpy black dress and high heels. The simulation doesn ’ t account for the discrepancy and she continues to walk down the street without a care in the world. Maybe I should do the same with the dress? But unfortunately, I had other things to do.
The ground began shaking violently as I placed my hand on the sidewalk. And with a giant crash, the ground before me extrudes high into the air, forming a tall, earthen wall that divided Sunset Blvd into two. Clumps of dirt fell and bounced between the various, rocky outcroppings. But with a single step, the wall sunk back into the ground, disappearing as quickly and as loudly as it appeared. Seems like all my capabilities are accounted for. Time to get to work.
At the Golden Gate Park, I found James strolling along in the company of a beautiful redhead. She was a perfect distraction as I summoned an earthen cage around James. The sudden protrusion knocks James ’ companion several feet away, knocking her unconscious. Alone in his cell, James began pushing against the walls in frustration, unable to comprehend his current situation.
I dissolved a small section of wall, allowing him to see his captor.
“ James Samuel. ”
“ Who the hell are you!? ” demanded James, as he banged his palms against the walls of his cell.
“ Just passing a message along. You ’ ve made many enemies you know— “.
Gunshots echo throughout the park. Smoke emanates from the small cell window, trailing from the barrel of a.45 revolver within. The bullets pass harmlessly through me, and crash into the stone tile behind me. Those who heard the shot looked around momentarily, but eventually returned back to their routine.
I couldn ’ t help but smirk, “ Yeah, that ’ s not going to work James… ”
“ What do you want from me!? ” James continued his demands, delusional that he still commanded any sort of power.
“ I want you... to hear what I have to say. ”
James could do nothing but listen in frustration.
“ You ’ ve made many enemies you know. The bad news is, you ’ ve been in a coma the last few months. But at least the docs have found a way to make your coma a little bit more… accommodating ”
James ’ s aggression falters slightly under the realization that his world was just a fabrication. He only needed to see the stone walls before him for evidence that everything I said rang true.
I let him stew for a moment to contemplate his position, but I had to continue the message.
“ But I ’ m afraid to say, that a comfortable life just doesn ’ t sit well with the people you ’ ve wronged. ”
It took a few seconds for James to comprehend the gravity of the situation. “ Wh-what do you mean? ”
“ You ’ ll see. ”
And with a stomp of a foot, James ’ cell plummeted several thousand feet into the ground. The earth above the cell collapses, filling in the hole created by the dive. I could sense James yelling in confusion, deep underground. Up above, the simulation continued on as normal, commanding virtual lives to go about their virtual business, completely unaware of the prisoner within the crust.
And with that, I sent the signal.
In the real world, the USB light lit a steady green. The guy watching the halls indicates that the coast is clear while the other pulls the USB drive from the machine. They don ’ t even look back as they leave; the once peaceful face of James Samuel now displaying hints of agony and fear.
|
[ WP ] Told from the point of view of a stand-up comic as he 's bombing a set
| ( I am a stand-up comic )
They say the thing people fear most in life is public speaking. It's above death. They'd rather *die*. Jerry Seinfeld has a great bit in which he points out that that means if you're at a funeral, you'd rather be in the coffin than giving the eulogy. Hilarious.
So try public speaking and make it funny, too - comedy's the most subjective form of entertainment by the way, so good luck to you.
`` So yeah, I was raised catholic but just recently converted...''
I glance around the room. The comedians I saw on TV who inspired me to do what I do were n't working rooms like this - they were playing to real audiences. Hundreds of people from all over the country, who specifically came to laugh and came to laugh at *them*.
I'm just a fuckin' guy, so nobody's here to see me. They just have nothing better to do. There's a meek couple up front who are clearly on a first date - he's got that `` I really hope I get laid'' look on his face, and she's got that `` there's no way he's getting laid'' look on her face. There's three fat hispanic guys behind them, and then a family of four who are probably taking advantage of a groupon or some shit - the kind of family that gets dragged around to a bunch of bullshit bonding activities by a dad wearing a fanny pack.
How the fuck am I supposed to tell a joke that the hispanic guys *and* the fanny pack daddy enjoy? I ca n't. There's just no fuckin' way. I'm just not that fuckin' funny. I'm just some fuckin' guy.
``... to alcoholism.''
The guy on the date forces a chuckle, and I sigh heavily.
|
[ WP ] Unknown serial killer finally dies at the hand of a victim , and wakes to find a clerical error placed him in heaven .
| It was the eyes that would torment me.
I knew it was a bad habit from the beginning but I could n't help being drawn to them. There was something about each victim's stare. Some were defiant, the fire blazing in their eyes. Others had eyes that begged, eyes that pleaded with me to let their owners live just a bit longer. A few were just filled with tears, pools of regret I could swim for days in.
So I cut them out and kept them. I treasured them. Each was so perfect and unique, a galaxy among the mundane backdrop of Earth.
I grew lazy. Buoyed by my past success, I thought victim number nine would be no different than the previous eight. And yet in the moment I hesitated, the moment I was distracted by her glowing green eyes, she turned the knife on me. And then nothingness.
I awoke in heaven. At least I think it was heaven. Not quite sure how I finagled that one since although the news outlets frequently messed up the score, I'm pretty sure God did n't. Outside the window was a perfect blue sky and fields of wildflowers as far as the eye could see.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
`` Come in.'' I idly responded.
The door creaked open and confusion filled my mind as victim number two stepped shyly in.
`` Sorry to bother you on your first day here, but I wanted you to know that I've forgiven you for what you've done. And now we're both in a better place! The adjustment can be hard for the first few weeks, so if you need anything I'm just a few doors down.''
`` B-b-but why? I tortured you. I killed you, then cut out your eyes.''
She smiled gently then responded, `` I know. But I've made peace with that in the years I've been here. And I have eyes again!''
I glanced up and indeed, her eyes were there. The same brilliant blues that had drawn me in initially were now twinkling down upon me, showing not fear nor hatred, but kindness and understanding.
`` The others will be by soon. They each want to forgive you I think, except Leanna. That was her sister you almost killed yesterday so I'm not sure she's ready to see you yet.''
Yesterday? That felt like a lifetime ago. And the rest would be coming soon? I'd have to look into all those eyes again. A wave of nausea rolled over me. I did n't know if I could handle this yet.
One by one they came over the remainder of the day. One by one they forgave me. One by one they made me want to die just a little bit more.
But how can one who's already dead die again? How could I escape this prison with no walls?
I could n't spend eternity looking in those eyes again. So I did the next best thing to death. I cut my own eyes out.
No longer would the eyes torment me.
|
[ WP ] In the Intergalactic Council , one member of each species is chosen to represent their whole species . The last human representative was a real asshole , though , and you 're next in line as the representative .
| The previous representative had set back intergalactic relations by eons they told me. The aliens were.. Sensitive. Ever since we made contact the whole Council had been nothing if not accommodating to we Sapians, but Captain Houston Moore had nearly pushed us to the brink of war.
When word got back that he had literally caused the ambassador of a telepathic species to commit suicide by repeatedly, and purposefully, thinking about Earth's reality TV shows through the duration of a Council meeting they finally had to pull him. He was severely reprimanded and relegated to a backwater station orbiting Uranus. Last I heard, the good Captain Moore had quit, and was whoring his way through the galaxies minor.
So I had my work cut out for me. They told me not to use the term, `` aliens''. Not to even think it. It was offensive. In fact, there was a giant compendium of gaffes, insults, and incidents I had to absorb before I was deemed ready to even meet the Council.
Apparently, the Captain had spent several days communicating only in belches. When the other species demanded sanctions be imposed he farted into a sentient gas being from Zeta 65 causing their ambassador to flee back to its homeworld in disgust. He then drank an aqueous lifeform, vomited it back into an empty can of Miller, and passed out drunk.
Sapiens were not well received to begin with. Our first contact -- as the historograms show us -- was made by landing a star-cruiser on top of highly sentient, but also entirely tiny race of..
`` Bugs. You're fucking bugs.''
The Gr'lrapphramores looked like beetles. There, I said it.
|
[ WP ] A video game designer falls in love with his/her protagonist . Break all the rules . Give me hope . Make me sympathetic for them . End it how you want ... hopeful or tragic .
| Part 1. We love each other. I told Joe.
Joe looked at me with his head tilted the same way he always did when he was amused.
I supposed amusement was a better response than I had hoped. I thought he would laugh me out of the room or worse yet, fire me.
But he did n't. He just sat there, tilting his head, listening patiently to my story.
I supposed it did start with Joe. A few months ago, I was just another out of work game coder hanging around the chat bars waiting to be picked up for freelance work. I was talented but not talented enough to compensate for the fact that I had boobs. Men in game development were just so socially awkward. I was fired from my last project because one of the other coders complained about being distracted by me. He could n't code with just one hand, he said. I tried to call out the fact that I was working remotely, hardly ever even chatted with this coder. I begged. But, I was let go on a technicality.
So when Joe found me, online, bumming about the chat bars, I was cautious to reveal the fact that I was a girl.
So? He asked, tilting his avatar's head.
I signed on without even asking what the project was. Joe was that awesome.
Turned out the project was pretty awesome too. It was a film noir style role playing game set in the 1930 ’ s small town USA, where characters were solving a series of murders only to realize that they were unraveling the truth of their existence - they were just characters in a game.
It ’ s very meta, Joe explained. At that moment, when the players realize the point of the game that their characters realize they are just characters, the players must wonder - Am I a character too? I mean, after all, what is us? Are we the bodies that die? Are we the memories that change? Or are we just the output of a ridiculous equation with inputs from nature and nurture and calculated by electrons firing at ridiculous speed? What are we?
I did n't really have an answer. At times I wondered if my worth were my hands or my boobs. But those thoughts were fleeting ones that passed like shadows on my wall as I drifted to sleep. But his excitement woke me. I too wanted to know.
Unlike the other games I worked on, Joe had all of us in a warehouse, each with a cube, each furiously hunched over a two screened computer. The sound of keyboards almost had a heartbeat. After a while, it became natural to me. Only at night, when I was alone in bed, did I realize how much I missed that chaotic, messy noise and how foreign my own heartbeat sounded to me.
Then, for the next month, I coded. I was one of hundreds of coders working on the game. I was responsible for the flowers. Like I said, I was talented, but I did n't have the talent to do AI work yet. The AI team worked in the corner in their own world. They reminded me of the super hero leagues I used to watch growing up, and I was a little more aware of myself when they walked pass my desk on the way to lunch.
One day, a game character popped up on my screen. They had built a character based on me. Joe explained that the simulation world needed a gardener and asked that I program his actions and then use him to `` plant'' and `` care'' for the flowers.
I was ecstatic. It took me almost a month to give him all of the movements, tools, knowledge, but at the end of it, he had the greenest thumb. So I named him Aoi, green in Japanese.
Aoi was not alone. Many of the coders had characters built based on their role. There was a baker, the milkman, the stranger.
The stranger was named Chloe. Chloe was the classic Veronica Lake beauty whose hips swayed the breathing of all of the men. When I found out Barry, the 300 pound coder with sweat gland issues, had programmed her, I almost fell out of my chair. It explained why he used to walk up and down the aisles in high heels, titling his hips like a ship about to turn over, and why he always asked me about make up. I was clueless.
Chloe would come up to Aoi often and we should even have lunch together. Chloe made inappropriate jokes but was constrained from scratching her butt, burping, or sniffing her armpits the way Barry did in real life.
One day, while Aoi was grooming Chloe's rose bush while Chloe laid out in the sun to tan, a man walked to Barry ’ s desk.
It was one of the AI guys. He leaned over and spoke with Barry quietly. Barry tried to protest or get up, but it was futile. In front of the AI guy, he was circus bear. He got up and his chair scraped the concrete floor, bringing a halt to the buzzing of the key board bees.
Barry packed up his things into a man bag that tightened too harshly around his fat body. He turned to give us a final look, and paused when our eyes met. I did n't know what to say. I wanted to wave, but I knew I was never going to see him again.
When the sound resumed, I returned to Aoi. He had been cutting the same tree for the last 15 minutes, it was just a nub now. Chloe still laid there with leaves all about her otherwise perfect body. Aoi walked over and brushed the debris off of her body. Chloe did n't respond. She laid there like a piece of meat, a doll, a dead body.
Then, she vanished. I looked over to Barry's desk and the AI guy was there. Typing away.
Aoi replanted a raspberry bush and named it Barry.
|
[ WP ] `` The next guy who walks through that door ; I want you to fuck him up ''
| I pulled out my X-Acto blade from my pocket, which I bought from Office Depot last week, and show it to him. He sees it and begins to squirm in his seat. I then pocket it, smirking. I made sure to use a large amount of duct tape ( which I also bought from Office Depot ) to cease the movement of his limbs and prevent him from slipping out of the chair. He attempts to scream but it is muffled, as I have already gagged him. He shrieks in his chair, red-faced and veins forming on his forehead, and after a couple of minutes he begins to cry. I check my Rolex, not to observe the time, but just to admire it. I am wearing a clear, plastic raincoat over my double breasted Valentino Corture suit, cotton Ralph Lauren shirt and silk Armani tie to shield them from possible blood splatter. He continues to squeal emphatically as I insert each hand in my black leather gloves by Neiman Marcus.
I pace over to get behind him and his neck turns to watch me. I tell him to shut the fuck up and look forward. Of course he disobeys both orders. I shuffle close to the side of his head, noticing his receding hairline, and hold his right ear with my left index finger and thumb. With my other hand, I equip the X-Acto knife from my pocket and begin to saw at his ear lobe. Almost immediately, blood drips from the slice I made like a faucet and as I shred deeper and deeper into his lobe, blood begins to flow from the ear at an abrupt rate, some of it almost landing on my Salvatore Ferragamo leather shoes.
By now, his ear lobe has been completely severed and I clasp it between my fingers. The guy is wailing at this point and it's starting to get annoying. I set down his still-bleeding lobe on the cherry lacquered veneer coffee table by Skovby and remove my gloves, which I also lay on the table. I look over at him and notice that blood is trickling from his wound and onto the New York Times papers that I set out the floor previously. His face is scrunched up like raisin as he hyperventilates. His screaming has become unbearable and I'm contemplating slitting his jugular now, but I do n't. I reach my hand under the raincoat I'm wearing and into my jacket pocket to take out my Walkman and Sony MDR-S50 headphones. I then place the headphones snuggly over my ears and press play on the Walkman. New Order's “ True Faith ” drowns the screaming out and I allow the uplifting beat and mesmerizing synthesizers to soothe me. A feeling of ecstasy washes over me in an awesome wave. “ True Faith ” was the first single released by New Order since their debut “ Ceremony ”. Peter Hook's strong bass line and Gilligan Gilbert's strong but not bombastic orchestral swells and keyboard chimes really allow for everything to connect. Each verse builds into the strong chorus with a sense of sudden anticipation. Bernard Sumner's lyrics are of his personal battle with drug dependency and substance abuse. The lyric, “ something's got a hold of me ” sends chills down my spine each time it is sung in his nervous, but soothing voice.
I pocket my Walkman and admire my manicure for a moment before carefully slipping my gloves back on. I stride over to him and look him in the eye for a brief moment before removing the headphones and resting them around my neck. He looks like shit. Dried tears linger on his wrinkled skin, which is also plagued with acne scaring. His right check is covered with long, narrow lines of blood which have traveled down to his broad shoulder. He keeps hyperventilating, obviously in shock. “ I'm going to remove the gag from your mouth, ” I tell him, “ And if you try to scream for help I will dig my fingers into your eye socket and yank your eye from your fucking skull. Do you understand? ”. He stares at the floor completely still, not even acknowledging what I'm saying. I ask him again, “ Do you fucking understand? ” followed by silence. I mace him profusely in the eyes for 12 seconds and inside each individual nostril for 8 seconds each. He shrieks and beings to weep again. I laugh for a solid minute and put my headphones back on. Depeche Mode's “ Never Let Me Down Again ” is now playing. I've been a big fan of Depeche Mode ever since their 1986 album “ Black Celebration ”. They have an absolutely unique and adventurous style of music that is hauntingly beautiful. Unfortunately, Depeche Mode's sound is quite polarizing to most listeners due to the assumption that it is just “ pop ”. The lyrics ( all written by Martin Gore ) are extremely captivating with dark themes, and I stress the word captivating.
I kneel down to the man's legs and begin to remove his hideous fake black leather shoes. Then I remove his socks to reveal his equally hideous feet. His toenails, of piss-yellow coloring, extend for over two inches and curl inwards. The skin of his foot is scaly almost like an alligator and reeks of shit. I place one hand on the end of his foot, facing me and griping it, and I put my other hand on his ankle and grip it. I then begin to forcefully twist his foot in a circular motion until I feel the vibration of his delicate bones cracking out of place. I see the bones protruding through his rough skin as it slowly begins to discolor. It's bleeding and turning blue now. I angle my neck upwards and observe the man shaking his head vigorously, jaw clenched and eyes squinched, displaying the grotesque wrinkles that spread down his face. I proceed onto his other foot, removing the shoe and sock. This time, however, I use the X-Acto blade and make a deep slit into his Achilles heel. This is my favorite part. I make rows of horizontal slices up and down the Achilles heel, each one producing what resembles an overflowing bathtub. Blood has drenched the Styles section of the newspaper and caused them to be sopping wet; a pool of crimson. I hear a noise that is not coming from my headphones and sounds rather distant. It could n't be the man's screaming since it seems that he has passed out with his mouth open. I stand up and set the blade on the table and remove my gloves. I take off my headphones and hear my telephone ringing in the other room.
I rush over to it and pick it up.
“ It's McDermott. ” I answer.
“ McDermott, where the fuck is the guy that you snatched? ” says what sounds like Tim.
“ He's right here with me all fucked- ”
“ Goddamnit! ” Tim interupts.
“ What's the matter? ” I utter, genuinely confused.
“ You whacked the wrong guy, ” Tim announces, clearly frustrated.
“ But... ” I pause for a moment. “ This is the guy you told me to- ”
“ I fucking know that! ” Tim interrupts again, furious.
“ Did you already kill him? ” Tim asks rapidly.
“ No he's just unconscious- I think. Why? ”
*There's a knock at the door. *
“ You hit Antonio Costanzo, you fucking idiot! ” Tim blurts out.
I did n't even have to try to remember. That was a name that everyone knew and feared. Antonio Costanzo- the Italian Mafia leader. The man that I had been torturing is a man that could have me wiped off the face of the earth and no one would even know. The man that sits across the room from me controls an army of soliders, loyal to him and him only.
**There's a pounding at the door. **
Edit: Formating
|
[ IP ] The Girl and the Dragon
| I never wanted to do this. Hell, lifting up that sword was probably the hardest thing I ever had done. I needed to support the family though, needed to get money, needed to do this, that, on and on. Being the Royal Executioner is not easy.
But the dragon..He would n't go down without a fight.
So we fought. Him, bitterly. Me, mournfully. I never wanted to be the seal that would completely exterminate his kind, and I would.
The crowd is watching. Reminds me of that one story, with the doors and the girl and that big man-eating cat or some s***. Whatever, they're gon na get their damn entertainment.
The heat of his flame engulfs me, and my armor and sword are completely burned away. The crowd is gasping, they were n't supposed to know I was a girl, were n't expecting their beloved executioner to die in a gruesome match, were n't expecting me to face this beast defenseless. But I'm not. I'll die like this, in my young, somehow unblemished. They do n't know *it's all a lie, it's all a mirage. *
They do n't know the dragon will die with me, our souls bound forcibly by the destruction of the sword. Fire siblings? Heh, I like the sound of that.
|
[ WP ] Adam and Eve actually came from Mars and Venus .
| `` OK, finishing touches. I need photosynthesis... gravity... sugar gliders... annnnnnnd... done! My masterpiece: the Garden of Eden!''
...
`` Well, it's quite pretty. I did a bang-up job, if I say so myself.''
...
`` Actually, there's no one else I can say things to anyhow. This is pretty boring.''
`` You can ssssssssspeak to me, oh Lord.''
`` No! Enough with your chicanery. You're probably in league with Satan, what with all those S sounds and such. Snake starts with S, you say the letter S a lot, SATAN starts with S... just saying. After a while, coincidences stop being coincidences.''
`` You made me thissssssssss way, Lord. And I have a ssssssssssspeach impediment.''
`` Oh, well, whatever. You're hardly a conversssssssationalist, are you? Meh.''
And so did God leave to another section of His divine Garden.
`` Man.... bored bored bored. Soooo bored. Hmm. Maybe I should create another species... one that can actually ssssstring a couple wordsssss together! Hmmm, but I need ingredients. Dust? Yeah, fine.''
And God did looketh around ( and also everywhere, somehow ), but lo, there was no dust to be found.
`` The shit? I made this garden too perfect; there's no dust anywhere!
`` Hmm... I *did* leave a lot of dust on Mars.'' [ God did snapeth his fingers, and lo, did the Dust of Mars transport to his Garden ] `` And lo, there was dust, and such. Now then... alakapresto!''
And with great splendor did a man arise from the Martian dust.
`` Wow, do I need a bath. Hey, who are you?''
`` BEHOLD, MORTAL, FOR I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA... WHO IS, AND WHO WAS, AND WHO IS TO COME, THE ALMIGHTY!''
``... k. I'm... wait, who am I?''
`` Oh, fuck, names, I forgot all about those. I've just been calling that damn stutterer'the serpent'.''
`` OK, so my name is...''
`` YOU WERE FORGED FROM THE RED SANDS OF MARS, AND THUS, I SHALL CALL YOU... RED MAN. TO ACCOMPANY YOU, I SHALL CREATE ANOTHER HUMAN, NAMED METHOD MAN, AND YOU SHALL FORM A RAP DUO THE LIKES OF WHICH HAVE NEVER BEEN SEEN!''
`` Oh, I'm... actually not that into rap.''
`` Seriously? I MADE it, though! Why are n't you into rap?''
`` Well, it wo n't exist for another 6000 years, for one.''
`` Ah, shit, right. Ok, then, fine, no rap. You shall now be... ah, fuck, I hate naming things. How about Adam?''
`` Why Adam?''
`` DO N'T QUESTION ME, MORTAL.... and, like, I dunno. Adam's fine.''
`` Fine, I'm Adam. And wheeeeere exactly can I get one of those sashes you have?''
`` NO CLOTHES. CLOTHES ARE FOR ONLY FOR ME AND ANGELS, APPARENTLY. Oh, and NO EATING MY FRUIT.''
`` Jeez, fine. I am kind of hungry thoug --''
`` NO FRUIT.''
`` 10-4. Got it. Sounds like a plan.''
...
`` So, um, what do you like to do?''
`` I, um... I guess I'm an inventor? Yeah, I invented... everything, really.''
`` Sweet. Um, so... I do n't suppose there's more people like me, are there?''
`` Well, I WAS going to create Method Man for you, but that ship has sailed.''
`` Well, I could actually use some... *female* company, eh? Eh? Get what I mean?''
`` Of COURSE I do, I invented language. Ass.''
`` So, um, about the ladies...''
`` Right, fine. I need one of your ribs though.''
`` WHAT? But ca n't you make, like, anything?''
`` I DO N'T TELL YOU HOW TO BE HUMAN, YOU DO N'T TELL ME HOW TO BE GOD.''
`` You've done like... *nothing* but tell me what to do since you made me from Mars dust.''
`` Whatever, I still need a rib.''
And God did reatheth into Adam's chest and extract a spare rib.
`` Ow! Could you NOT have given me a local anesthetic or something?''
`` Sorry, wo n't exist for 6000 years.''
`` Shit. Right. Well, if she's hot, it'll be worth it.''
`` You like'em HOT, do you? Then I shall create a woman for you from the DUST OF VENUS!''
[ God did snapeth his fingers a second time, two being the number of snaps, and the number of snaps being two. Three He did not snap, nor did He snap once, except when proceeding to two. Four is right out. And lo, when God did snapeth the second time, the most beautiful woman on Earth ( literally ) did appear in front of Adam, naked as the day she was... snapped into existence. ]
`` Wow! She's... wow!''
`` Right?''
`` Hey, not that I'm not thankful, but what did you need the rib for?''
`` Oh, right.'' And as God did throw the rib over His shoulder, the woman began to speak.
`` Hey.... so... where can I get some clothes?''
`` NO CLOTHES!... I like to watch.''
`` I hate this fucking guy.''
|
[ WP ] a 7 year old starts asking you questions , they start off innocent , but gradually becomes eerily specific
| `` Hey Mister Mark!''
I looked up from my spot in the front yard garden and saw little Lucy Stevens, the next door neighbors' kid. She was standing on the sidewalk, holding a rapidly melting Popsicle in one sticky hand.
`` Heya, Lucy.''
I continued digging a small hole for a new azalea shrub. She stayed where she was, watching me.
`` Mister Mark, why do plants need dirt to grow?''
Her eyes were on the hole I had finished digging.
`` Has to do with nutrients in the soil,'' I answered, picking up the azalea with gloved hands, `` Plants need food.''
`` *Nooo-tree-ents*,'' she tried the word, `` Like vita-ments? My mom gives me those.''
`` A bit like vitamins, yeah. Some people can grow plants just in water if they add the right plant food to it.''
I planted the azalea and neatened up the dirt around it. Next, some nice petunias and a few tulip bulbs. I could see Lucy was thinking hard about something; the neglected Popsicle was mostly a puddle on the sidewalk now.
`` Do plants eat the same *noo-tree-ents* as people?''
`` No,'' I said, wiping sweat from my eyes with my forearm, `` plants and people are veeery different.''
The soil was all set to plant the bulbs. Should I do red tulips or white ones? both?
`` But what if you planted a person?''
*What? *
`` Uh, what do you mean, Lucy?''
She was chewing on the Popsicle stick now and talked around it.
`` I saw people behind the old farmhouse last week plant a person. Like you did with the flowers.'' She pointed to the azalea, then added, `` Only they had a shovel.''
Disturbed, I put down my hand trowel and stood up to give Lucy my full attention.
`` Was this person... moving?'' I asked carefully.
`` No,'' she said with a child's frankness, now examining the chewed Popsicle stick, `` I think he was dead.''
Okay, this was getting to be capital-letters Not Good.
`` Did - did you recognized any of the people?''
`` One looked like Mister Jenkins!''
I had no idea who Mister Jenkins was. I pulled off my gloves to dig my smartphone out of my back pocket. Time for a Google search. *Missing persons jenkins*, I typed, hoping desperately to find nothing. The search immediately pulled up a local news release from the day before. *LOCAL GROCER ADAM JENKINS, 45, REPORTED MISSING*, read the headline, *POLICE SUSPECT FOUL PLAY*.
Shit.
`` Hey Lucy,'' I said, trying to keep my voice casual, `` Would you go get your mom and bring her back here? I need to talk to her about something.''
`` Okay!'' She stood for a moment longer. `` I like your flowers!'' And then she dashed down the sidewalk towards home.
I stared at the news article again, feeling queasy. So much for my quiet afternoon of gardening.
|
[ WP ] You are an English teacher cursed by a homeless witch . Everytime you fail a student , something bad happens to your family . You really want to pass the class but the student keeps getting on your nerves . About to draw the final straw , you ...
| As dares go, it was a damn lame one.
We had been drinking, celebrating the start of the summer holidays.
Ralph, as he usually does, got quickly drunk and started fooling around. No one seeing him then would have believed he was the physical training instructor at a reputed school in the next town
By the 7th drink, he had grown tired of trying to hit on the waitress, tired of the yuppie noisy crowd that was quickly filing up the bar, tired of trying to dunk paper tissues into the basket across the room and generally was becoming a boisterous drunk nuisance.
I pulled him for outside some cool air and for a cigarette but mainly to get away from the drinking if at least for just a while. Anyway it would soon be time to head home.
That's when we saw her.
Begging from passersby, bags hanging off her from both shoulders. Impoverished and dirty.
`` I dare you to snatch one bag off her `` Ralph me.
`` Nah man. Look at her. Poor creature. Let me see if I got some spare change on me ``
`` Pussy.
Pussy.
Pussy.
She's not going to miss one bag being taken off her.
Probably got hundreds more at home. Or wherever she lives.
Tell you what, you take one bag off her and I will give her a dollar''
Maybe it was the drinks we had had. Maybe it was the sight of the helpless woman loaded down with all those bags. To this day I still ca n't answer why I took up the dare.
Before I knew it I had rushed up to her, snatched a bag off her right shoulder and was running back when I heard her fall, screaming as she did.
I stopped dead in my tracks, turned and saw that she had taken a pretty nasty fall.
Many of the bags had split open and had disgorged their contents on the sidewalk.
A half eaten apple, a few newspapers, some tissue boxes, a mirror, a couple of broken dolls lay around her and she was frantically trying to stuff them back into her bags as if they represented some great treasure.
I do n't know who I hated more at the moment - myself for causing this or Ralph for daring me.
I jogged back to her and knelt down to help her and that was when she let out a low hiss and cursed me.
Five years have passed since that afternoon.
And every single day I have thought about what might have been if I had not done what I did.
The curse still lies on me. I have paid a heavy price.
At first I did n't take it seriously. No rational person would have.
But when my daughter tripped on the stairs and twisted her ankle pretty badly and then the next day my wife almost got hit and run over I started to believe in the curse.
Coincidentally I had had to fail 3 students that semester. I did n't have a choice.
If I had passed them even after their rowdy behaviour and the atrociously bad term papers they turned in, I would have been called to the principal's room for an uncomfortable discussion about my professional capacity.
More tragedy fell upon me and my family in these last few years.
Our pet dog died, run over by a garbage truck
My wife lost her job. And my daughter developed a form of autism. I took up a nasty drug habit.
All coincidentally after I had handed out results at the end of each term.
Every student I fail, however deserving of repeating the term or taking additional classes, karma takes the shape of that homeless witch and screws me and my family in the ass.
I can not continue living under the curse for what was a foolish response to a stupid dare.
It's the last straw. After I snort up this last straw of cocaine I will go back once more to that bar and search for that homeless witch. To make her take back the curse.
I even remembered to bring a few bags to add to her collection.
|
[ WP ] You find a space pod on a beach , inside it you find a symbiotic organism from another galaxy . The symbiote can communicate with you telepatically and offers you to merge with her in order to survive in exchange for certain abilities ...
| My name is James, and something has... happened. I do n't know what yet, and I'm not sure if it was a mistake or not, but all I know is that I saved a life. Whatever happens next, I think that should count for something.
A few hours ago, I was out looking for seashells along the coast where I live. Etoria has some of the most remarkable sea-life of the colonized galaxy, and the shells are absolutely beautiful. My parents let me walk along the shore for hours while they fish on our own little dock. They were out today, having reeled in a substantial haul to bring to the other settlers. We did n't need the fish, most of them were n't edible until processed, but the Authority recommended we attempted to gain supplements to our regulated diet in the event they would n't be able to resupply us, considering we were still only `` Class 2: Dependent''.
I'm only twelve but they trust me to be safe along the beach, after all it is n't like we are n't able to talk with one another, and it is n't like they do n't know where I am. My transponder pendant made sure of that. They also gave me a knife, both in case I come across anything dangerous, and to break open anything particularly hard to crack - alien pearls are worth more than shells after all.
Little did I know I would come across unarguably the rarest pearl found, well... *anywhere*.
As the sun was setting, I saw something glinting in the sunlight next to a formation of rocks near to the cost. Figuring it could be something valuable, I swam up to the spires. I would n't notice until after, but my pendant would `` go dark'' during my swim as I got closer, receiving only static.
I pulled myself over the rocks, and that's when I discovered the pod. It was pretty well embedded in the rocks, covered in sand and barnacles. It had been sitting here, for who knows how long, and I had n't the faintest clue what it was - but I knew it looked valuable. I took out my knife from my belt, and I tried to pry off the debris to get to the capsule door. As I tried to wedge open the door, I pressed my hand against the strange metal, and as my knife broke and cut my hand, my other hand suddenly burned. I fell back against the rock, scraping skin as I cried out sharply in pain, hissing filled my ears as the sand shook from the pod, and steam seemed to bubble on the surface as waves and sea-foam crashed against us. There was a flash of light, forcing me to look away momentarily, and when I looked back at the pod I saw...
... a body.
It was unlike anything I had ever seen before in my life, but it was very obviously dead, or close enough to it. I ca n't really describe to you what I saw exactly, other than to say it was n't human shaped, but also lacked all the scary appendages we imagine monsters to have. To be honest though, I was hardly paying attention to the corpse at all, considering what was *climbing out of it*.
She was pure white and covered in slime, glowing, though much fainter than she is now. On one end, what passes as her face probed the air with two protruding proboscis's and a small thin darting tongue sneaking out of very small slit in between two black dots just inside the clear proboscis's. A white fluid seemed to leak out of her side as she clambered out of her host, attempting to mimic the motion of a serpent, trying to make her way towards me.
I found myself unable to move without immense pain in my lower back, and my legs did not seem to move when I tried to pull myself away from her. I remember the fear I had when her first proboscis touched my foot. There was an impulse that passed between us, and a feeling of warmth filled me as I heard her first words.
**'' Help. `` ** As feeling returned to my legs, and the pain seemed to flit away from my back, and I could once more move away from her... my mind could n't help but to be curious in spite of my rational fear. Slowly, I approached her again, as it seemed her movement had stopped completely as the fluids leaked out. I reached out my hand, hovering over her head.
`` You need help? Is it the white stuff? Is that... is that your blood?'' I said, as I began to see her for what she was - a hurt creature. I cautiously touched her again, and another impulse filled my body.
**'' Yes. Please. Help. `` *** I began to feel an overwhelming urge to save her. How else could I repay her for taking my pain away? Not even to mention that she was simply a wounded creature that was suffering without my help.
`` With what? What do you need? I do n't know how to stop the bleeding...'' My heart was beating quickly, as I began to panic I might not be able to save this incredible creature. My hand still resting on her rapidly cooling body, I felt another impulse.
**'' Swallow me. Heal me. Heal you, too. `` ** Despite the fact she was n't breathing, it *felt* like her words were out of breathe. There was little time, and panic started in me again.
`` Swallow you? I do n't understand...'' I said nervously, and as I rested my hand over her, slowly feeling her life leave her tiny body, I expected another explaining impulse... but it was n't coming, and I began to worry.
So I swallowed her. It was quite the ordeal to do so, and I felt her wriggle desperately as she began to feel herself inside of my throat... it was less than comfortable, but sparing any embarrassing details... suddenly I became two.
James the boy and... Jae'j the girl.
[ Part 1 ]
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[ WP ] “ What 's the matter ? Just eat around the cockroach ! ”
| A moist droplet of water plopped into the water, regular like a metronome. It had probably been a week every other second the drop would go plop like an analogy for sanity dripping away. Hidden underground in the basement levels of a half destroyed tenement a small group of people sought to survive the terrors above ground so that one day they may be free to continue their lives of perfecting nail art, getting that flawless wing just right and achieving straw curls before they stop being cool. Water had been tricky to source at first with the main lines lacking pressure and filtration but fortuitously the survivors found a case of bottle water however it was sparkling water with a'hint of durian' which without kiwi fruit ice cubes was both a waste and unpleasant. Food had been the other pressing matter, the only stores near by had been wholly organic and preservative free, and the local farmers market dealt only in fresh food as well, nothing tinned and the only preserved food found was a jar of vegan pate. After two days with nothing to assuage their hunger but tepid lightly fizzed somewhat fruity water spirits rose as they realised how trim they were getting let along how the cool darkness must be good for their skin on the third day however tempers frayed and people went searching for food. A burrito store was located and despite everyone being disappointed that the avocados had gone rancid spirits lifted art the discovery of tinned pinto beans, stacks of plastic seal tortillas and buckets of sauces. `` I thought they made everything in store'''' I cant believe they lied about cooking the beans'''' oh my god this sauce does n't say it's vegan but they told me it was! I've been eating gelatin the whole time!'' Times were tough and the situation calling to the survivors. They made do with bean and sauce burritos made cold and washed it down with the water. Nearly a week after going underground disaster and division struck the group. Whilst preparing lunch a cockroach fell into the only tub of vegan approved sauce and promptly expired from exposure to chilli fumes. Wails were wailed, an animal had died and touched the sauce contaminating it what would the vegans do? `` what's the matter just eat around it, only touched the top layer, not even sinking it just sitting on it'' came the fatal opinion. Only a madman trapped underground for a week could suggest such madness and for a time madness reigned. Accusations were thrown, insults slung and harsh constructive criticisms proffered. One week later when once again it was safe above ground the remaining survivors of the cockroach incident emerged into the sunlight. Finally it was safe and they could go on living. They all died within sixteen hours.
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[ WP ] Every time you blink , a polaroid of what you were just looking at appears in your hand .
| My life was peaceful, right up to the age of five. I never saw much of other people you see, it was just me, mum, and dad, all living together in serenity. Sometimes we would blink at each other and exchange polaroid smiles. The picture frames and albums in our homes could fill the length of miles. All it took was a blink of my right eye and a picture would appear in my hand. But my peace quickly ended, the smiles I had captured were a fleeting memory because from age five to twenty I never smiled again.
The children at school did n't hesitate to tell me I was odd. One day I gave Milli, a cute girl in my class, a picture, and she tore it in half and had me beaten up by Todd. My teachers were somewhat nice but usually only so in pity. I would hear their whispers in the hallways and the way they spoke about me, mum, and dad, and how our family was so shitty.
Father passed away, and boy oh boy did it hurt me inside. I ca n't remember how many days it was that I hid amongst polaroids and cried. Soon after that Mum got depressed and decided to bite the bullet. It was the last thing I'd ever expected, I really did n't think she'd do it. And with mother and father gone forever, the two people who were my true friends, one quiet and spooky night I climbed Crimson Bridge, prepared to meet my end.
Sitting against the bridge barrier I stared out across the bay. I rubbed at the goosebumps on my arms. Hissing and crying away. The sun would be up soon and that was my que to jump. I stared longingly into the black water. I'd go out with a simple plonk.
The sun peeked over the horizon. It sent streaks of blazing yellow across the black water. I smiled as a ray caressed my jaw. And watched in awe as the various plants across the meadow lifted their heads and looked toward the sun. It was beautiful, peaceful, a touch of the serenity that had been taken away from me. Like the time that mother and father held hands with me at this very same bridge. Only that time we had watched the sunset together.
I blinked away tears.
The polaroid in my hand streamed out in dazzling effect. I stared at it as if I had captured a moment of the great one himself. When I looked at the black water again, it was sparkling green and the darkness had been wiped away.
I do n't know how long I sat and stared at that picture, or why it made me smile and think of mum and dad. But I knew that just like my grief for them, my grief for the world...
There was sunshine somewhere that would eventually wash away all of this bad.
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[ WP ] A normal day , 50,000 years from now
| Speeding through the darkness, the craft approached the distant object. The pale blue dot. As it approached, the two occupants willed the craft to decrease speed, and they circled the planet, allowing the pilots to take their readings of the atmosphere. While it circled, they observed the shape of the continents, simultaneously noting the subtle differences from the images in their archives. Much of the land was submerged now, and several landmasses had moved. Effortlessly, the craft entered the atmosphere.
Their archives contained much material documenting this planet. The dominant species of this planet, clearly intelligent, had harnessed the power of communication. With time they had invented means to transmit their communication outwards, in the form of script, sound and images. It was a rare thing for species to accomplish this. However, their unusual manner of transmission was limited to below the speed of light, which meant it had been eons since their initial messages had first started transmitting. The two beings were anxious to make contact.
The craft ’ s atmospheric readings indicated that the planet ’ s temperature was significantly higher than expected. The two beings noted this with concern, their shared consciousness aware of the risks this posed to the life forms they sought. Using the information in their archives, the craft ’ s pseudomind calculated the most likely place where these intelligent beings may have survived. Prompted by the pseudomind, the beings willed their craft towards an appropriate area of dry land.
The pseudomind detected life forms below. The craft approached. There was movement. The craft moved in closer, the beings willing it to identify and classify what had moved. The life sensors scanned the living things below: invertebrates. The beings ’ shared consciousness acknowledged the information, their hopes fading. They continued their search, but with every scan, every flyby, and every orbit, their hopes continued to dwindle. Finally, they determined with certainty that the intelligent life forms, the humans, had long disappeared from this planet.
The being ’ s shared mind was displeased with the failure. However, the test for all intelligent life was to survive their own intelligence, with the majority ending in failure. Together, apart, they recorded their findings on their instruments, as the pseudomind transmitted the information back to their homes. Soon, other crafts would arrive to do a full surveillance.
But such was the life of the two life-hunters, so onwards they sped, to the next planet.
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[ WP ] You accidentally break something at a dinner party and go to ever-increasing lengths to cover it up
| `` Welcome! How are you? Hope you found the place alright.'' Janet welcomes me into her home as I pass her the flowers and wine. `` Jim is just in the kitchen, he's preparing the soufflé... but you'll have to be nice, it's the first time he's making it.''
`` Do n't worry, I remember Jim's cooking.'' I say jokingly. Janet takes my coat and usher me into the living room.
`` I'm just preparing the dining room now, I did n't expect you so early!''
The living room is spacious, a leather sofa and armchair facing the 52'' television, and hanging just above was a painting of waves or something... wavey, presumedly it has some meaning. Either that or Jim thought it looked trendy and'hip'. On the shelf beside the window rests various empty vases with, this collection most definitely belonging to Janet. The pair were always buying strange objects in an attempt to be different. The coffee table between the television and sofa is only knee high and made almost completely out of glass, barely visible had it not been for what seems like a priceless collection of small animal figurines.
I move to sit on the sofa, but trip on the bear rug that the couple use as a ridiculous rug. Luckily I regain my balance just before I knock into the table. As I sit down on the sofa I hear a loud crack. In my shock I stay still, too afraid to see what I could've broken in this house of uniqueness. I slide my hand underneath my trousers and it meets something long and hard. As I pull it out, I realise its just a television remote... nothing to be frightened about.
But then I feel a squirming and I instantly jump, almost crashing into the figurines. There on the sofa is a small animal. It's a pug. I sat on a pug. And I think I broke it. Its just lying there... whimpering.
`` Dinner's ready!'' I hear Janet call out. What do I do? Oh god, the pug looks terrible. I have n't seen these guys for years, I do n't think I'm comfortable enough with them to admit I've injured their pug.
`` Tim?'' Janet pops her head into the living room and I quickly sit back down, covering the pug with my arm.
`` Yes?'' I say, flustered. The pug is still squirming, it begins whimpering softly.
`` The dining room is all set up. You ok there?''
`` Um..yeh, just a tad hot..I'll just take off my jumper.'' Thank God I'm wearing a t-shirt underneath.
`` Sure, would you like me to take that for you?'' She moves into the living room.
`` No! No, no, no. It's ok, I'll hold on to it... I..like the feel...'' Please do n't step forward. The pug would be easier for her to see if she just took another step. I quickly take the jumper off and throw it on the dog.
`` Oh do n't leave it there, come, I'll take it.'' She walks into the room to take the piece of clothing.
`` No!! I have it. Its... very... special to me...'' I scoop the jumper with the pug inside, and tactically wrap it... like a burrito.
`` Alright, no problem. Have you seen Sergeant Puppyloo?'' Are you serious? That's what they named him?
`` I'm sorry... what?'' I'm afraid the Sergeant is out of action. I seriously need to hide this dog.
`` Sergeant Puppyloo. He's our little baby, he's a quite small so you'll have to be careful you do n't sit on him.'' She laughs. She wo n't be laughing if she seem my Puppyloo burrito. `` Come on to the dining room.''
I follow to the dining room, just opposite the living room, Sergeant in hand. I can feel him wiggling, hopefully he has room to breathe. Jim sits on the end of the table and smiles to greet me.
`` Tim! Sorry I could n't get you at the door, I was working hard at the meal. Trust me, I've come a long way since our days in Bristol!''
`` Ha... yeh, I hope so. So... what are we having?'' I sit in the middle, in front of the fireplace, as Janet steals the opposite end seat.
`` Is it hot in here Tim? You seem to be sweating, perhaps I should take that jumper off you.'' Jim offers. What is it with these people and my jumper?? I suddenly notice that I am sweating... the whole shenanigan with this bloody dog is making me nervous.
`` Er... noo thanks, I'm... err..anticipating the meal is all.'' I'll just eat and go. Minimise the chit chat, bring the dog to a vet and pay some kid or something to bring him back. I then notice that the food is actually on the table. Soufflés, a roast complete with yorkshire puddings and parsnips, the whole shebang. Unfortunately, I think Sergeant Puppyloo's broken state has made me lose my appetite. The dog squeals quietly.
I shift on the chair in the hopes that the chair squeaks. It does n't. Bloody trendy couple with their new trendy home. Plan B.
`` Oh sorry, I'm feeling a tad gassy. Mind if I use your loo?''
`` Sure, just up the stairs on the right.''
As I get up to go, Jim stops me and grabs my jumper. I'm shocked, flabbergasted.
`` NO!!!'' I yell, shoving Jim away with my shoulder. Jim steps back, visibly surprised and very confused. Janet is looking worried too. `` Sorry sorry, this jumper is... err... erm... special..''
`` Sorry Tim. It sure felt weird. But do n't you think you should leave the jumper here before you go to the toilet?'' I swear they have some kind of jumper fetish.
`` Never mind... the feeling has passed.'' I sit back down. `` Best we start eating!''
`` Okay! Let's dig in! Though I think I should take your jumper and put it on the side, so we do n't get any food on it... because... it's special.'' The bastard. Patronising me.
`` I can just put it on the bookshelf, still in your sight.'' Janet adds. Oh shut up Janet. The dog whimpers again. `` I could swear that was Sergeant Puppyloo.''
Janet moves to look around, and I notice that a paw is sticking out of the jumper. I throw the jumper out of the kitchen. `` Stop!! Why do you want my jumper so much??''
Jim and Janet are motionless, just staring with their big hipster eyes. I storm out of the room into the corridor to pick up the jumper... only to realise Puppyloo must've escaped mid air. I march into the living room and see the lying on top a broken vase. Oh fuck me, this is n't good.
I can hear Jim and Janet getting up to see what's going on. I quickly scoop the pug back into the jumper and pull the rug to cover the shattered vase....and by doing so drags the glass coffee table that was half resting on the bear, causing several of the figurines to smash on the floor. FUCK! I run to the sofa and move it over the shattered animals, and look up to see bloody J & J watching me in complete confusion.
`` Fuck you too Jim!!'' I push past the pair through their front door and into my car. I smile. `` Smooth. They did n't suspect a thing.''
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[ WP ] 10 journal entries in a rapidly changing environment
| *April 1st, 1991*
Never had something like this happen to me. It's wonderful. *She's* wonderful.
-
*April 1st, 1992*
Gon na propose soon. Bought a ring yesterday.
-
*April 1st, 1993*
Give me a break. She was n't kidding about her family. At least the wedding is over tomorrow, and then our lives can get back to normal.
-
*April 1st, 1994*
You know, I love her, I do. But it's not easy to put up with her when she's pregnant.
-
*April 1st, 1995*
Up to me? She's leaving it up to me? I never wanted the first kid, why would I want anymore?
-
*April 1st, 1996*
Never thought I'd want more kids, but the two of them are blessings, and I love them more every day.
-
*April 1st, 1997*
Gon na stop having kids soon, I hope...
-
*April 1st, 1998*
Let him go to school? He's only 4! Yes, he's smart, but there's no reason to send him to school with kids two years older than him. Besides, I want to keep the kids at home as long as possible.
-
*April 1st, 1999*
You do n't know what you have until she's gone.
-
*April 1st, 2000*
Down under now. The kids were sad to leave their friends behind, but I could n't stay there. Everything reminded me of her.
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[ WP ] A ghost has been possessing its old body going about its normal living business ; someone has started to notice
| The difference between the dead and the living is n't all that difficult to notice. Bodies decompose and life rots away, for all to see with horror. Without the body's natural functions working they tend to fall to nature's smallest predators, dissolving and dying without much to be prevented. Not always is it noticed, however, despite how easily a shell can be detected, sometimes...
Though this is n't a human we're speaking of, instead a being most simple in appearance, yet complicated like many of the other beings that roam our earth.
And the one who noticed? A mere, youthful and innocent girl, school ending to all their relieve and home within reach for all. Skipping down the street she cared little for any of that, however, mind settled and eyes scanning about. A quiet and peaceful neighborhood, the sun shining more brightly every day as Lent approached, the girl finally arriving at a spot most precious to her heart. Memories carved, happiness build from a mere location, her bag opened and food uncovered, hums of a melody heard earlier the day coming out while she glanced around.
And there it was, the rot, the decay settled in softly, yet noticeable for those who cared to see. A being dead, yet not without a soul, coming for the comfort of one with so many years to live for. Black fur, soft yet slightly damp slipped past her fingers, a smile already building while her hand trailed upwards to pet in between the cat's ears.
A simple girl, she was, though despite that she was subjected to something most sinister and more importantly, aware of it. `` Does kitty not want food again?'' A concern was voiced, the meat from her sandwich swayed in front of the glassy eyed creature besides her, a scruff meow answering in decline of something it normally would have taken without hesitation.
She was sad, no less, for her friend longed not for food like it used to. Because it's fur was dying, it's body decomposing from the inside. It's tummy held less strength and his nimble walk had something sloppish and drunk.
`` It's alright, Kitty, I'll still pet you.''
A promise, she spoke hopefully, making sure to give her dying friend a few extra pats before continuing on home.
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[ WP ] An troll challenges someone over the internet to `` fight him IRL '' . That someone turns out to be Superman , who is bored of fighting evil , and now spends his time beating up internet trolls .
| What a pussy. That prick thinks he's just sooo awesome. I ca n't wait for him to get what's coming to him.
It all started when someone got butthurt because I made one little joke about that mother whose kids died in the landslide. I mean, come on. And then this white knight wannabe shows up and gets all smarmy with me. One thing leads to another, and I decided I'd really put him in his place. I told him I'd kick his ass if he were man enough to show up. They never are. They're afraid of me.
See, I've got the youtube account to back up my badassness. Videos of my breaking shit with my hands and various weapons. I tell them to do their homework for once before accepting, and they never do. They're right to be afraid.
But not Mr. White Knight. Oh, he wanted to meet me. I figured he'd back down when I told him I lived in Montana. Most of these neckbeards do n't have the balls to actually commit to making the trip. But he said he lived an hour away and could meet me that night. I got ready to deliver a righteous ass-kicking.
You can never be too careful. I fully intended on taking him down with my fists. I've spent enough time on a heavy bag that I know I could knock him out in one punch. But he could be enough of a loser to bring friends or weapons. So I packed a couple of commando knives and my glock.
When I got to the spot we'd agreed on, he was just standing in the parking lot. I did n't see a car, so I figured he was lame enough to not own one. I parked by trusty Maverick about 50 feet from him and got out. The guy was just standing there in a hoodie with some geeky-looking glasses sitting crooked on his nose.
`` Well well, if it is n't Mr. White Knight, aka'Supes1'. Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. I did n't think you'd show. You got a real name so I can give it to the paramedics when we're done?''
`` Clark. Clark Kent.''
`` Of course you'd have a loser name like that. You read for your beating?''
`` If you can manage it. Will you be using the knives, or skipping straight to the gun?''
I was sure I'd concealed those well. It was a little unnerving. Still, I could n't let him see me sweat. `` Please. Those were insurance in case you did n't want to fight fair. Now stop talking and let's do this!''
`` Okay by me. Shall I come at you first?''
I did n't bother responding, and instead just stepped in with a right hook. He ducked under my arm and stood back up. The coward ducked and dodged the next dozen swings.
`` What's the matter, chump? Ca n't take a hit?''
He stood his ground on my next swing. It was a perfect hit, right across the jaw. A knockout punch if ever I've seen one. But I swear this guy did n't move a millimeter. I felt two knuckles fracture. I pulled my hand back and took a step back. He stepped in with a punch to the gut that knocked the wind out of me and sent me sprawling on my back ten feet away.
I decided he must be on something. The guy was fit, but not THAT fit. You read stories on the internet about guys on PCP or bath salts or other crazy shit that lets them do this kind of stuff. Guess he was n't fighting fair after all. It was time to up my game. I drew one of my knives.
If it bothered him, his face did n't show it. More proof the guy was high. This time I decided on caution and circled him, knife ready. I'd practiced my moves for years in preparation for something like this. I was going to carve this guy like a jack-o-lantern.
I lunged in from his left side. He caught the knife blade in his hand and yanked it away from me. I could feel the burns on my hand as the grip dug into my palm. His hand closed on my throat and he lifted me into the air. `` Bad idea,'' he said as he reached up with his left hand and flicked his finger into my nose, breaking it. I felt the blood begin to gush as he dropped me to the ground.
`` You bastard!'' I screamed through the blood. I pulled out the gun and leveled it at him, firing twice. I saw the bullets hit him square in the chest, but he never even flinched. He lowered his glasses to the point of his nose, stared at my gun, and suddenly it got really hot. I got burns on top of burns.
I do n't really remember much after that. I remember thinking those red boots of his were strange before I passed out. They found me laying next to what was left of my car. 57 broken bones, two ruptured organs, third-degree burns on my hands. My classic Ford Maverick turned into a pile of scrap. He must have spent hours ripping it apart.
The cops said there were no other tire tracks and no footprints leading away from the site. One guy said he might as well have flown away. And I think they might be right. I think he was an alien trolling the internet for fun. I'm going to tell the whole world that They are out there. And that They're pussies, hiding behind shields and heat rays and super strength instead of fighting like real men.
|
[ IP ] Someone does n't like this book , huh ?
| `` I need some books for cheap that no one wants. They can be falling apart or old or worthless.''
`` Why?'' the book store employee asks.
`` Well, you see I have a cat that has an addiction to ripping up paper products. I have managed to find hiding places for all the items I hold dear, but I need to give her something to destroy so this does n't happen again to a book that I love.'' I show the clerk a photo of the last book she ripped into pieces. `` For every book I read I give her one of her own so she will leave mine alone. Can you help me?''
`` Wow, really? That was done by a cat?''
`` Yep. Unfortunately''
`` We have a collection of books that were damaged and written off. let me ask the manager if you can have them for cheap or free''
`` That would be great'' I say relieved. I hope the third copy of my text book makes it to the end of the class.
|
[ WP ] 10 years ago , scientists discovered that there is something after death . And it 's bad , really really bad .
| You've head the stories. The atheists always dismiss them as control mechanisms to scare the world straight. Satan. The devil. Lucifer and whatnot. Be good or you're heading there. What catechism did n't teach you is that you're heading there regardless.
It was a Saturday morning down at PandoraCorp. My third month into the job. We're a bit of a stereotype, I'll give you that. Isolated complex, white coats, security that makes North Korea look like a corner store with one of those plastic dummy CCTV cameras.
I do n't pretend to know everything that's happening. Even at my level, everything is need to know. So when I was given a variety of compounds to experiment with, I did n't ask questions. People disappear here. I've seen enough macabre corporations in movies to hazard a guess at where they've gone. But six figures a year is good money. You can buy anything you want. But you ca n't, no matter how hard you try, rewind time. And believe me, after what happened in that lab, you'd do anything to make it stop.
Reggie ( I think that's his name, friendly chat is strongly discouraged in PandoraCorp ) was in the large fume cupboard on the other side of the room. He'd closed the glass screen behind him ( standard practice, of course ). I was setting up a titration when the frantic pounding started. The erlenmeyer in my hand fell to the floor, shattering instantly. What can I say? I'm always on edge in here.
I swivelled around to face Reggie. Or rather, Reggie's corpse. Lifeless, pale, and face forevermore contorted into an expression of pain and raw fear. The other man was smiling, however. Gently rapping on the glass with long, wispy fingers.
I ca n't tell you how I knew what I was looking at. But when you start to slide out of life and into the beyond, you'll see it too. You'll feel it.
You know that one childhood memory you have locked up in the back of your mind, that insidious beast clawing and scratching and subtly influencing your day-to-day life?
Before my very eyes, the long, slender thing's face began to distort. And I found myself looking at my abusive step-father. Nothing in his eyes but the darkest shade of black I've ever seen.
`` Terrence,'' he smiled. `` Come out to the shed with me.''
I could n't hit the panic button meters from me. Cold terror rooted me to the spot. He started to laugh. Hysterically. He laughed and he laughed for what I can only describe as eternity. He laughed and he laughed as he shrunk into Reggie's cadaver. All was quiet eventually. But not before his last words.
`` The 23rd of February 2037. Bullet to the back of your head. I ca n't wait to get my hands on you again, you fucking little cunt.''
That was, if I had to guess, about 15 to 16 years ago. It's hard to tell from inside a padded cell. The boys in the yellow suits came in to find me sobbing hysterically on the floor. They brought me upstairs and I've been here since. No human contact. But at least my step-dad is gone, right?
My meals get pushed through a little slot in the door. I like to pretend I'm getting mail. It distracts me.
But when I heard the door opening, I was shocked. Two of the yellow suits were there. The same ones that put me here? I do n't know. Their faces are covered. They hoisted me up without a word.
Having not left that cell in over a decade, what followed was a bit of a sensory overload as they walked me down a corridor. It was all too much. But for some reason, one detail stuck out as we made our way through PandoraCorp's winding hallways. A fairly basic calendar on the wall. Why this stuck out?
The date.
February 23rd.
And for a second, before they brought me into the killing suite, I swear I could hear that demonic cackling that's haunted me since I was 7.
|
[ WP ] For years Earth cried out to an empty cosmos , searching the stars for echoes of life . From the middle of nowhere , a reply finally comes : `` Shut up , and Play Dead ! ''
| Shut up, and Play Dead?
No way in hell!
Much of what makes the will to thrive is derived from pure ego. This is mine, and not yours. This is our Earth. This is our land. We made this.
Why are we so proud when we barely hold 30 % of an uncontrollable mass of elements spiraling through the great abyss? When we, is barely a we at all?
Because of the will. The ego. Against indomitable odds this defiance to fight, and remain fighting and to never stop till we hit the thing dead.
What did we do when we saw the 700 something large cylinders laden with guns and cannon blasting through space at our fragile existence? Why we freaking blew that shit up of course!
Why the hell not? We wanted to.
Famine? Poverty? Disease? Fuck no.
We were united in the sole and singular cause of fucking shit up. Together.
Black, white, yellow, we even got the fucking blue man group to do a dance as we let the retarded kids smash the fucking launch buttons!
Why?
Because fuck you that's why.
We're humanity, and we'll be damned if w-
...
What do you mean there's a giant space lizard coming for us.
...
Oh...
Well fuck.
|
[ WP ] The greatest evil ever known has been unleashed and asks you if you ’ d like to go on a date .
| Tyler stood in front of the big metal doors of Unit 8, fuming, and holding a tray of sandwiches. Someone had stuck a single daisy in a vase and sheepishly placed it on her tray. For the first time in forever, she was out of a labcoat and her hair was down. In stead of being scared, she seemed more angry.
`` I might be more worried for the thing than I am for her.'' The scientists in the observatory chuckled uneasily to each other. A part of the bargain it struck was that they could place new cameras in. The scientists watched with great intensity as the airtight titanium doors opened one by one, and Tyler strode through them.
The thing in Lieutenant Basil's body was waiting, sitting cross legged on the floor. It had piled the broken bodies, belonging to the remainder of Disposal Unit Alpha, into a corner. The guns and bullets were stacked neatly aside, though a few empty shells lay here and there. The thing was beaming rather charmingly from Basil's body. It had made an effort to clean up, but that was n't very successful. Basil's black combat armour was still drenched in blood.
Tyler, used to the smell of blood, strode right to the thing and slammed the tray down on the floor. Most of the punch flew out of the glasses.
`` I'm here. Hi.'' She said, and sat in front of him, crossing her arms.
`` Hello, I'm Basil,'' the thing spoke in a rough baritone. The smiled lines around its blue eyes deepened. `` What is your name?''
`` Tyler.'' She said pointedly.
`` Ah,'' It gingerly picked up a sandwich, `` Yes I recognize your voice from the intercom. You ordered the Disposal Squad. You were the only one thinking clearly when I was expelled from my old host. Thanks for trying to kill me.''
Tyler felt a small stab of fear. `` Well that backfired on me did n't it. Now you have one of the strongest bodies on Earth.''
`` My thanks. But that is not really what I need right now.'' The thing poked out its tongue, `` I just want to get to know you. You are easily the smartest person in this place. I like that.''
`` And I want to know you as well,'' Tyler said. From a scientific point of view, she thought. Adamantly not eating every though the thing was trying to offer her a sandwich.
`` Then I have an idea. Lets play twenty questions!'' The thing beamed. `` I'll go first since I had the initiative to invite you. What is your favourite colour?''
`` Blue.'' Tyler pondered which questions she should ask. `` Why have you come to Earth?''
It shrugged. Tyler noticed how large and broad Basil's shoulders were. Scarred and big from training to kill. `` I guess I was bored. What do you like most to eat?''
`` Ginger cookies. What is your lifespan like?''
`` I never die. What do you like most about me?''
Tyler decided not to answer that question, `` What do you mean you never die? Where did you come from?''
Basil rested one cheek on a hand, and peered at her cheekily, `` Oh, I think you know. Go ask those scientist friends of yours. Ask them about the Demigod Initiative. Ask them about the Great Falling. Ask them about Project Epsilon.''
Tyler was shocked into silence, `` You mean we... they... You were created knowingly by humans?''
`` Yes!'' Basil clapped, `` Smart girl, I knew I'd like you! I'm a bit like a virus actually. I spread through bodily contact. What is your favourite weather?''
`` R-rain,'' Tyler stuttered, `` How did your learn the human language and mannerisms then?''
Basil laughed, `` Oh. The answer lies in the way I work. I am not sentient. Really, I'm a practically an unless shell til I occupy the brain stem of a host. There, I pick up their own habits. In return I give them a great many things.''
`` Strength.'' Basil reached an arm and picked up the limp body of a commander, twisting him around like a washcloth. Bones snapped loudly and Tyler blinked as blood splattered on her face.
`` Vivacity.'' It carved a knife through its left forearm, wrist to elbow. The dark black blood stopped after a few seconds, skin mending together as if new.
`` And I magnify their greatest trait a good many times.'' It smiled.
`` Apparently Basil's greatest trait was being annoying.''
`` Not so! His greatest trait was taking initiative.'' The thing shrugged. `` The little girl before was nice, but she had no big dreams. Basil on the other hand... Oh he had ideas.''
`` I would like to go now.'' Tyler said, she tried to stand up, but noticed that she could not. A force was holding her in place. She tried to look warningly at the camera. It had been hiding this ability from them.
`` But we are just warming to each other!'' Basil pouted, `` How about I tell you a secret? I'm strong enough to escape from here. I just have n't the smarts. I know because I heard the scientists saying so yesterday.''
Thankfully, Tyler was allowed to stay silent.
`` That's why they keep on feeding me stupid kid hosts, you know? To dull my edge. Make me easier to manipulate and capture. Make it easier to outplay me.''
Tyler felt sweat beading on her brow. She tried to resist his hold, but could not.
The thing in Basil's body turned aside, introspective. `` Do tell me, what is the weather like today?''
`` It's raining.'' Tyler gritted her teeth.
`` Perfect.'' Basil picked the daisy up from the tray and handed it to her.
Tyler picked up her arm to meet his.
`` I think you already know what your greatest trait is.'' Basil beamed. His blue eyes in a sea of red was the last thing she saw.
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[ WP ] A portal to Hell just opened in your back yard . Your house will be almost impossible to sell now , but you 're going to try anyway .
| “ And these are the patio sliding doors. They ’ re fitted with UV filtered glass, the best in the market, ” I slide open the doors for the couple. “ That ’ s the pool, 16 feet. Great for kids, if you have them. That ’ s a night lamp, that ’ s the portal to Hell, and the entire area is fitted with sprinklers. ”
“ I ’ m sorry, come again? ” Mr. Cruz asks.
“ Oh yea, the sprinklers are all new. Best sprinklers money can buy. ”
“ No, no. Before that, ” Mrs. Cruz points to the gaping, flaming vortex in the center of the backyard.
“ Oh, that! That ’ s nothing, I assure you. ” I say. As if on cue, George the flaming komodo dragon crawls out of the vortex. I say hi. He sticks out his tongue in greeting before crawling away, leaving a smoking, komodo-dragon-shaped hole in the hedges. “ See, they ’ re so friendly! ”
“ I can ’ t possibly live with that, ” says Mr. Cruz.
“ Sir, please! They ’ re the best neighbours ever, I promise. Once, Luke gave me a pack of beer for free. All he wanted was my sole! ”
“ You… exchanged your soul for beer? ”
“ No, not my soul. The soles from my torn shoe. Luke runs a reputable shoe shop, you see. ”
“ Who else lives there? ” Mrs. Cruz asks curiously.
A man with a blonde wig and orange skin crawls out. He pats his suit and walks away.
“ Oh, that ’ s Don. We don ’ t really talk about him. ”
Mrs. Cruz turns to her husband. “ Honey, I really like this house. ”
“ What! ” Mr. Cruz exclaims incredulously. “ There ’ s a giant *hole* in the– ”
“ But the kitchen! And the fixtures. Oh, and the kids are gon na love the pool… You never listen to me, Ted! You think you know all about houses and backyards, but that one time at Walmart I was right about– ”
“ Okay, okay! ” Mr. Cruz turns to me. “ How much? ”
At this moment, the sky suddenly grows dark and a lightning bolt strikes the backyard. A giant, opal-skinned dragon leaps out of the vortex.
*WHERE IS MY MONEY, YOU DICK. *
“ Oh hey, Lisa! It ’ s been a while… I ’ ll get it to you by tomorrow, I promise. I just need to sell the house– ”
*I WANT IT NOW. *
“ Come on Lisa, it ’ s just a hundred bucks! I promise I ’ ll– ”
*TOO LATE. *
With her powerful wings, Lisa launches into the air. A massive ball of fire gathers at her many-fanged mouth and flies straight towards me.
*Ugh, fuck. *
The house bursts into flames. The beanie that concealed my horns burns to a crisp. The impact strikes me into the pool and I fall in with a *splash. *
*I ’ LL SEE YOU TOMORROW, BASTARD. *
I sigh, wiping the water off my face. “ Yea, yea. I ’ ll see you at Luke ’ s for poker night okay? ”
As Lisa flies away, I drag myself out of the pool and into the vortex. *Mum and dad are gon na crucify me, * I think to myself.
Back in the house, Mr. and Mrs. Cruz ’ s bodies crackle in the fire.
|
[ WP ] A small coffee shop in the middle of nowhere .
| `` I've had enough of Seattle Janet, I just need to get out of here. Clear my head, y'know?'' Preston said.
Janet had heard it all before.
`` It's the people! They are just suffocating, there is no originality in this town anymore. It's like I'm seeing cookie cutter versions of humans everywhere I go.''
He sighed and ran his fingers through his oiled beard.
`` This is it, I'm committed, I'm doing it.'' He drank the rest of his coffee and rose from the table.
`` I'm still confused. Why did you ask me here to tell me that? We have n't been together for seven months.''
`` I thought someone should know, in case I do n't return,'' he said dramatically.
Janet rolled her eyes.
Preston shrugged into his designer backpack and walked out into the light Seattle rain.
-- -
He had n't done any planning for this trip, he just picked a direction and would let fate decide where it would take him.
His feet were sore after the first ten miles. He spent two hundred dollars on a pair of limited edition boots that were rubbing blisters into his feet with every step.
The straps of the designer backpack dug into his shoulders and were quickly rubbing them raw.
Wet forest slowly passed by as he headed what he guessed was east. Maybe he would end up in Canada, or head south toward warmer climates. It did n't matter much, he was happy he was walking the trails, living how his ancestors did. He was making his own way. But he would kill for a cup of coffee.
He sat down on a fallen log to give his weary feet a rest. The expensive soft leather soles were already coming apart, he would have to buy a new pair soon.
A familiar smell wafted through the trees. It played beneath his nose begging him to recognize it. A dark roast coffee. He disregarded the pain in his feet and jumped up. Through the dense trees he spotted a small wooden cottage, smoke drifted out of the chimney merrily. He walked through the wet foliage, the aroma growing stronger with every step.
He approached the porch, a small open sign hung on the front door. He wiped his tattered boots on the welcome mat and pushed his way into the coffee shop.
`` Welcome traveler!'' an old woman crooned from behind the counter.
`` What brings you to this part of wood?'' she asked sweetly.
`` Self discovery.''
The corners of her mouth twitched slightly.
`` Well, you ca n't do any discovering on an empty stomach. You look famished, please sit.''
She gestured to a small round table that looked like it was carved from a single piece of wood. Preston admired the craftsmanship as he slid into the chair.
She disappeared behind the counter and returned with an assortment of pastries and a piping hot cup of coffee.
`` This is my own special recipe. I grow the beans out back, let me know what you think,'' she said with a broad smile.
Preston brought the steaming mug to his lips and blew gently. The coffee was a bouquet of nutty aromas, a hint of chocolate, cloves, sandalwood and perhaps the presence of nutmeg.
He sipped it gently allowing the coffee to linger on his tongue as he allowed the flavors to play over every taste bud.
`` Madam, this is the most wonderful cup of coffee I have ever tasted,'' he said in awe.
Greedily he drank down the rest of the cup and ate a number of delectable pastries.
His cup was refilled almost instantly by the kind old woman. He guzzled the second cup down, then the third.
Curiously, his eyes began to grow heavier with each cup he drank. With all of the caffeine we was surprised that he was getting tired.
`` Are you enjoying yourself young man?'' the old woman asked.
Preston tried to speak but his tongue felt thick and swollen. The world tipped as he slid out of the chair landing heavily on the rough wooden floor.
`` I know that people are going to enjoy you.'' Her pleasant smile had been replaced with a wicked grin.
With surprising strength she grabbed his ankles and dragged him across the room through the back door. His head bounced over rocks as she dragged him into a carefully manicured coffee field.
`` What should I call it? Preston Blend? No that's too obvious,'' she said speaking to herself quietly.
She ripped his boots off and tossed them aside. Preston watched them land in a pile of similar looking designer boots and shoes. Stacked next to the boots was a pile of thick rimmed eyeglasses.
`` I'll come up with something catchy do n't worry young man!'' she said happily as she disrobed him and dragged him into a shallow hole in the ground.
He tried to scream as she shoveled dirt over his body.
-- -
Thanks for reading! Check out /r/Written4Reddit for more stories!
|
[ WP ] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy . As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable . They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology . Humans accept the deal .
| May our children forgive us; for we choose servitude over annihilation. Is it not better to be second among equals, lower only to them and above the rest? Is it not better to watch the fleet of those who would enslave you burn, to watch their planets fall and their cities crumble than to see your people massacred, your holy places desecrated, your world die. We may be giving up our freedom but at least we will survive right? Yes, we will lose our beloved council, we will see Kartaloon fill will races from around the Dominion, we will cede territory to others and be forced to do trade with lesser species but we will survive. My brothers and sisters do you not wish to see the Targracians suffer for all that they have done to us, for what they did to the outer colonies for Impac, Tonar and Harkathia how many billions of us have they extinguished how many worlds have they made dim. Only the scourge of the Humans of the Dominion of Canada can lay restitution for the sins and atrocities that they have befallen upon us.
The Humans will be our ultimate weapon against Targracia, her people will weep for a million cycles, her Gods will be made to bow before the shadows and their hand, the Humans, her cities will empty and their people will know what it truly means to suffer, to suffer without hope, without mercy, to suffer at the hands of humans. Remember your history what they did to their own kind the atrocities committed against the cities of New York, Sao Paolo, Beijing, Tokyo now imagine what they would do to the Targracians a species that may pose a threat to them, even if only an imagined one. Yes my brothers and sisters we may lose autonomy but how many are truly left free in this galaxy if we do not capitulate to the Humans than to who? Should we be as the Par Madi a dead race only to be remembered in the annals of history; a lesson for those to come the consequences of those to prideful to bend to those more powerful than themselves, is it not better to bend to the Devil we know than the one we do n't?
By joining the Canadian Dominion we will be given access to technologies millenia beyond our current level we will have access to their space-time gateways, our children will see parts of the galaxy that our grandfathers could only dream of. We will be able to spread far and wide to the point that even if Kartaloon should fall our people never will. As second among equals we will never know subjugation of a conquered people, only Humans themselves will be above us, and in the vastness of their territories we will barely even notice them, true our illustrious council will be disbanded and our people will be subjected to their `` Democracy'' but they will also be protected by their `` Charter of rights and freedoms''. We will be given technology to build a fleet of star ships that would be able to explore the Galaxy and protect our people, and still be backed up by the Canadian Star Fleet, we will be given voice in the Galactic Council, I have seen it myself their base inside of Sol, the base inside the heart of their sun where the representatives of the second species work together, where the Therelians and the Ic Ba Moor once bitter rivals exist together in peace.
Truth be told we have little choice in the matter, capitulation to the Humans is the only choice we have. I stand before you not to ask for your acceptance in this matter but to ask for your forgiveness for the deal has been made, by this time tomorrow the siege will be over, within an hour the full Canadian armed forces will enter Kartaloonian space and engage in battle with the Targracians. A Governor class space station will orbit between us and our third moon Today is the last day that Kartaloon exists as a free and independent world, but we still have a tomorrow and for that I will not apologize.
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