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[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "She Said My Face Wasn’t Mine"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "It started with the mirror.\r\nMom caught me staring into it a little too long and said, “Don’t do that. It’s not polite to study someone else’s face.”\r\n“Mine,” I corrected.\r\nShe didn’t say anything.\r\nI was thirteen, old enough to feel unsettled but too young to know what to do with the feeling.\r\nI started noticing it more after that. She’d avoid taking photos of me. Would flinch if I walked into the room too quietly. Once, I sneezed while she was in the kitchen and she dropped a glass.\r\n“You scared me,” she said. “You sounded like—”\r\nShe never finished the sentence.\r\nOne night, I brought it up.\r\n“Who do you think I am?” I asked her.\r\nShe laughed. But it was the kind of laugh that comes too late. Like she’d practiced it.\r\n“You’re my son.”\r\nThen she added, “That’s what matters.”\r\nThat’s what matters.\r\nI started digging.\r\nFamily photos stopped around the time I turned seven. No birthday parties. No school pics. Just a long, silent gap.\r\nOne night, I looked through her closet and found a shoebox with an old USB drive taped inside the lid.\r\nThe files were dated. The earliest one read: JULIAN_01.\r\nMy name isn’t Julian.\r\nThere were videos.\r\nThe first showed a toddler playing in a backyard I didn’t recognize.\r\nThe next few were older. A boy about nine years old. Same eyes as mine. Same voice.\r\nAnd then one labeled JULIAN_FINAL.\r\nIt was taken in a hospital room. No audio.\r\nThe boy—Julian—was asleep. Tubes taped to his arms. Mom was holding his hand.\r\nAt one point, she looked into the camera. And smiled.\r\nBut it didn’t reach her eyes.\r\nThat night, I confronted her.\r\n“Who’s Julian?”\r\nShe froze.\r\nThen said, very quietly, “You are.”\r\nI shook my head. “That’s not my name.”\r\nShe stepped forward.\r\n“You were gone. Gone. For weeks. I begged them to bring you back. I begged them.”\r\nI didn’t understand.\r\nUntil she added:\r\n“They said they could return your soul. They didn’t say it’d come back… in someone else.”\r\nShe looked at me like she was searching for something behind my eyes.\r\n“I know it’s you. I see glimpses. I hear it in your laugh.”\r\nI backed away. “You’re insane.”\r\nShe didn’t stop smiling. Just whispered:\r\n“They said sometimes the body fights back. That the boy you’re in might try to regain control.”\r\nShe started crying.\r\n“I won’t let that happen. I won’t lose you again.”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My daughter said, \"I hate you.\""
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Dinner for tonight was a can of mixed veg, flatbread with honey, and roasted rabbit.\r\n“I want tacos,” Mindy said, like only a five year old could.\r\n“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make tacos as soon as I can.”\r\n“We had this for dinner yesterday.”\r\n“You liked it yesterday,” I lied, “I even picked out the lima beans ‘cause I know you hate ‘em.”\r\nMindy crossed her arms, puffed her cheeks, and scowled.\r\nI called this the “Harrumph Treatment.”\r\nLately, I have been getting this treatment a lot.\r\nAfter ten minutes of pouting, Mindy realized how hungry she was and finally ate, though she did it with a frown. Afterwards, I thought I’d try to cheer her up with a game.\r\n“What about House? We could play House with your dolls?”\r\n“Dolls are for babies,” Mindy reminded me.\r\n“You’re right. What about Connect Four? Or maybe Hungry Hungry Hippos!” I made some “hippo noises” and scooped Mindy up in my arms, pretending to eat her.\r\n“Can we play outside,” Mindy asked, then added, “please?”\r\n“Sorry, you know the rules.”\r\n“But I never get to go outside.”\r\nI tried to change the subject, but Mindy wouldn’t budge.\r\n“I wanna go outside!” She whined.\r\n“The answer is ‘no’ and that’s final!”\r\nMindy screeched, shook her fists, and said the three words every parent dreaded to hear.\r\n“I hate you!”\r\nI gasped.\r\n“Mindy Isobel Flores, go to your room and think about what you said!”\r\n“No.”\r\n“One,” I said, “two!” Mindy stomped all the way to her room.\r\nOnce she was inside, I locked her door.\r\n“I’ll be back to tuck you in later,” I shouted through the thick door, and went to grab my bow and head outside. I had to check my traps before the sun set.\r\nAs I reattached tripwires, and threw leaves onto pit traps, I thought about what Mindy said. Honestly, I probably deserved it. The truth is… I’m not a very good Mom.\r\nThe truth is… I’m a liar.\r\nEvery time Mindy asks to go outside, or eat something else, I smile and pretend nothing's wrong. I do this because I would rather my daughter be angry than afraid.\r\nBehind me a twig snapped.\r\nBefore I could think, I knocked an arrow, spun around, and let it soar. My aim was sharp as ever. I struck the walking corpse straight through the eye.\r\nI’m amazed and horrified every time one makes it this far into the mountains.\r\nOne more year, I thought, then it’ll be safe enough for her to play outside.\r\nI dragged the corpse far away, dumped it into “the pit,” then headed back to the cabin.\r\nI unlocked Mindy’s room, opened the door, and Mindy jumped onto me, wrapping her arms around me.\r\n“You took longer than normal,” she said.\r\n“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, Mindy,” I held her tight, cradling her head.\r\n“I don’t hate you, Mommy, I love you.”\r\n“I love you too, baby, I love you too.”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I got stuck in an elevator with a creepy guy who said he was my fan."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "As I stepped into the small elevator, the man immediately started staring at me.\r\nIt was just the two of us, and the panel was on his side. Luckily, the button for the 1st floor was already pressed—no need for chatting.\r\nBut it was a tall, old building, and as the elevator slowly passed through its thirty-two floors, I noticed the man kept sizing me up. I focused on the door.\r\n\"Are you Anna Hansen?\" he asked.\r\n\"Yes,\" I replied.\r\n\"I knew it!\" he exclaimed, excitedly. \"I’ve been following your career since the 2021 State Championship. You made history there.\"\r\n\"Thank you,\" I responded.\r\nJust a gymnastics fan, I guess, but his appearance left me uneasy. He looked to be in his 40s, about six feet, with wild, thinning hair. I’m 5’1\".\r\nI had never seen him in the building before, and I came here every Thursday for therapy.\r\n\"I just want to say,\" he continued, \"the blue leotard you wore during your last vault was the prettiest I’ve seen.\"\r\nOkay, my instincts weren’t wrong. What a creep.\r\nI thanked him again, forcing an awkward smile, and turned to the elevator’s display. Fifth floor. Almost there.\r\nThen a loud noise, followed by a sudden jolt, made me lose balance. The lights flickered before coming back under emergency power.\r\n\"Oh no,\" he muttered. \"This old building keeps falling apart.\"\r\nHe pressed the alarm button, but no sound came out of it.\r\n\"We’ll have to wait,\" he said, flashing an unsettling smile that sent a chill down my spine.\r\nDetermined not to engage further, I checked my phone—no signal.\r\nWe sat in silence for minutes until, of course, he decided to speak again.\r\n\"Your life story is also quite impressive,\" he said. \"Daughter of a poor Texas rancher. Left the cows for the city and got discovered at 12. Really moving.\"\r\n\"Thank you,\" I replied, now uneasy with how much he knew about my background.\r\n\"You’re my second favorite gymnast,\" he added. \"After Carly Miller.\"\r\nThat name made my skin crawl. Carly Miller was my biggest rival. In a month, we were set to face off in the national finals.\r\nThe man reached into his pocket, pulling out a small blade.\r\n\"But it’s not a fair comparison,\" he said, a twisted grin forming as he stepped closer. \"For Carly, I’d do anything. Anything.\"\r\nWhat happened next was hard to explain to the police. The stab I took in my shoulder. The gun on my right hip and the three shots I fired into his chest.\r\nThe relief of seeing the elevator doors open again, even if I was soaked in blood.\r\nThe injuries kept me from competing in the finals, but Carly Miller was also unable to compete. She was arrested five days later for encouraging a fan to murder me, texting him details of my daily routine.\r\nThankfully, her research wasn’t detailed enough. The daughter of a Texas rancher always carries a gun."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My Wife Said I Wasn’t Romantic Enough, So I Pulled Out All The Stops For Our Anniversary"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“Hi, honey. Are you ready?”\r\n“Ready for what?” my wife asked, confused.\r\n“For our anniversary celebration!” I replied. “You did remember our anniversary, didn’t you?”\r\n“Of course I did,” she replied awkwardly. “I just didn’t realize you’d made dinner plans. Is it alright if we skip them tonight? I’m really tired.”\r\n“And leave you to a boring night in? Absolutely not! I know how much you love romance, and tonight I went all out! So put on your favorite dress and let’s paint the town red!”\r\nJane didn’t seem excited, but with some prodding she eventually got ready. Soon we were out the door.\r\n“What’s this?” she asked, staring at what sat in the parking garage.\r\n“This is our limo for tonight! No boring Toyota for us. I told you I went all out!”\r\nOur chauffeur opened the door for us and then drove us downtown. After about fifteen minutes, we pulled up outside an ornate building.\r\n“First stop - the theater!”\r\nI took her inside and presented our tickets. When she realized what we were seeing, her eyes widened.\r\n“The Marriage of Figaro?!?” she gasped. “This is my favorite opera!”\r\n“I know,” I replied, smiling.\r\nWe were seated as the curtain rose. She laughed throughout, teared up occasionally, and by the end was the happiest I’d seen her in months.\r\n“That was wonderful!” she exclaimed.\r\n“And the night’s not over yet,” I replied. We reentered the limo and were soon at the city’s best Italian restaurant.\r\n“I love this place!” she declared excitedly.\r\n“That’s why we’re here,” I responded.\r\nInside, we were seated at a romantic table for two. The staff went all out - roses and wine on the table, outstanding service, typically excellent food.\r\n“How are you enjoying your evening so far?” I asked.\r\n“It’s been amazing! I can’t believe you planned all this.”\r\n“I wanted you to have a night to remember. Speaking of which,” I said, handing her the box I’d been hiding.\r\nShe took it, looking at me curiously. “What’s this?”\r\n“It's a surprise.”\r\nShe opened the box and her eyes went wide.\r\n“I saw the snakeskin purse you were admiring last month and made a mental note. This isn’t exactly the same one - I had it made custom especially for you.”\r\n“It’s gorgeous,” she said breathlessly. “What snake is it made from?”\r\n“Well, I thought about using cobra or python, but then I saw a strange number on your phone last week and decided to follow you.”\r\nHer face froze.\r\n“I learned all about Jacob, the coworker you’ve been fucking behind my back. So I visited him saying I just wanted to talk. He believed me.”\r\nAt that point, she looked down at the purse.\r\n“John?” she asked nervously.\r\n“Yes, dear?”\r\n“What’s this mark on the purse?”\r\n“Don’t you recognize the tattoo? I thought having it show might make the gift more special. I know, you were hoping for snakeskin, but I thought “Jakeskin” might be even more memorable! Happy Anniversary!”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "The Doctor Said I Donated Blood Yesterday, But I Didn’t Go Anywhere."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The text came at 2:43 p.m.:\r\n“Thank you for your blood donation! Your contribution could save a life!”\r\nI stared at it for a moment, confused. I hadn’t donated blood. In fact, I hadn’t even left the house that day. I shrugged it off, assuming it was a mistake.\r\nBut later that night, I noticed something strange. My arm ached—specifically, the crook of my elbow. When I pulled up my sleeve, there was a small puncture wound, surrounded by faint bruising.\r\nThe next morning, I called the donation center listed in the text. The woman on the line confirmed it: “Yes, Mr. Palmer, you donated yesterday afternoon. We have your blood bag processed and logged.”\r\n“That’s not possible,” I said, my voice trembling. “I didn’t go anywhere yesterday.”\r\nThere was a pause. Then: “Are you sure? You even signed the form. I can email it to you.”\r\nThe email came seconds later. Attached was a scanned image of a consent form with my signature at the bottom. It was unmistakably mine.\r\nThat night, I set up a camera in my bedroom, pointing it at my bed. I needed answers.\r\nWhen I checked the footage the next morning, my stomach dropped.\r\nAt 2:15 a.m., the bedroom door creaked open on its own. Something shuffled into the room—something I couldn’t quite see. It was blurry, out of focus, as though the camera couldn’t process its shape.\r\nThe figure stood by my bed, watching me for what felt like hours.\r\nThen it leaned closer and whispered something in my ear. My sleeping self didn’t move, but the figure slowly reached for my arm, holding a needle.\r\nThe next text arrived just as I was finishing the footage:\r\n“Thank you for your second donation! We’ll see you again tomorrow.”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "The Doctor Said I Was Born Without a Heart, but I Can Still Feel It Beating"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "When I was born, the doctors were astonished.\r\n“No heart,” they told my parents. “We’ve never seen anything like this.” Yet somehow, I was alive. They ran test after test, trying to find an explanation, but there was nothing to find. My chest was empty. No pulse, no rhythm, no explanation. They sent us home with one piece of advice: “Don’t expect her to survive long.”\r\nBut I did. I grew up healthy, normal even. My parents hovered constantly, worried that one day my body would stop working, but it never did. I didn’t question it. Why would I?\r\nThen, six months ago, I felt it.\r\nI was sitting at my desk, late at night, when I noticed the faintest thud deep in my chest. At first, I thought it was noise from the neighbors or the vibration of a passing car, but it wasn’t. It was coming from inside me.\r\nA heartbeat.\r\nIt was impossible. I had no heart. I’d known that my whole life. I pressed my hand to my chest, expecting to feel nothing, but the rhythm was unmistakable.\r\nThe next day, I called my doctor. He ran scans, tests, everything. “You’re fine,” he said with a reassuring smile. “There’s nothing there. No heart. No pulse. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s in your head.”\r\nBut the thudding didn’t stop.\r\nIt grew louder, stronger, and constant. At first, I only noticed it at night, lying in bed, but soon, it was all I could hear. It drowned out conversations, the TV, the hum of the city. I became obsessed, pressing my hand to my chest, feeling the beat hammering against nothing.\r\nLast week, I woke up with bruises on my ribs. Deep, dark fingerprints, as if someone had grabbed me in my sleep. I locked my doors, set alarms, but the bruises came back every night.\r\nTwo days ago, I received a package. No return address, no explanation. Inside was a small, sealed jar filled with fluid. And floating in the center was… a heart. Tiny, malformed, barely recognizable.\r\nThere was a note.\r\n“We’re sorry. We tried to fix it.”\r\nNow I can’t tell if the thudding is louder, or if I’ve simply lost track of time. It pounds in my ears, my temples, my throat—so loud I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I press my hands to my chest, desperate to make it stop.\r\nAnd for the first time, I wonder: what if it’s not beating?\r\nWhat if it’s knocking?"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"The last thing he said to me was, 'I love you.' \""
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "She stared at me, before she began pacing in front of me again.\r\n\"You're going to have to tell me that 'story', again.' she stated, using air quotes when she said story. Her voice was filled with hate and malice and revenge.\r\nExhausted, I told her again, \"He came to me last month. He told me he wanted to end our relationship. When I asked why, he said his wife found out. I yelled, 'You have a wife?! Why did you start a relationship with me if you have a wife--' \"\r\n\"LIAR!\" she screamed. \"You whore! You knew! There is no way you didn't!\"\r\n\"I swear to you. I-I didn't, I didn't know. I told him, he was a bastard and I was glad you found out. I told him to leave. I didn't want to see him ever again.\" I said, sobs escaping my mouth. \"You just-just have to believe me. He looked sad and he said he didn't regret what he did. I swear it, I swear that's what he said. And-and just before he left, the last thing he said to me was, I love you. And I haven't seen him since.\"\r\nShe had stopped and was staring at me again, staring at me like a hunter staring at a prey. My arms were getting numb. I could barely feel my feet. My back ached from sitting so long, I was thirsty, and I hadn't slept in what must be days. She had me tied up in her basement because she wanted answers, she wanted the truth. Truth she, supposedly, wasn't getting from me.\r\nShe was trying to figure out if she believed me or not. I guess she didn't.\r\nAgain, she came at me with her knife.\r\n\"I swear, I didn't know!\" I yelled, my words turning into screams."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My Husband’s Mother Said I Was “Unfit” To Carry His Baby"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I didn’t want to go to my mother-in-law’s house. I’d been through a really rough time lately and didn’t feel up to it. But Daniel insisted, saying it would only make things worse if we didn’t go. As usual, I gave in.\r\nWhen we got there, we sat around, making polite if awkward conversation. You could feel the tension, but we all tried to ignore it.\r\nUntil Daniel went to the bathroom. Then his mother dropped the pretense.\r\n“Daniel told me what happened.”\r\nI froze. Surely he didn’t - I’d asked him not to share it with anyone. Especially her.\r\n“I know miscarriages are hard. But maybe you just weren’t fit to carry my grandchild. Maybe Daniel deserves someone who is.”\r\nI was so shocked and hurt that I froze. How could she? How could she suggest that I deserved to lose my baby? She kept talking, but I didn’t hear any of it. When Daniel came back, I told him we needed to leave. He hesitated, but when I made to leave without him, he apologized to his mother and followed.\r\nOn the drive home he kept calling me immature. When I told him what his mother had said, he said I needed to be the bigger person and get over it.\r\nThat night, I was going to the bathroom when I overheard him talking.\r\n“Yes, it was her fault. You’re right.”\r\nWhat?\r\n“I’ll bring her over next week and you can talk some sense into her.”\r\nThat asshole! At that moment, it was like my eyes opened and I knew what I had to do.\r\nThe next week, I invited Daniel’s mother over for dinner to apologize for my behavior. I cooked steak and potatoes, their favorite; around the third glass of Merlot they thanked me for growing up and seeing the error of my ways.\r\nThe next morning, Daniel woke up to a pain in his stomach and a call from his mother. When he answered, she screamed that he needed to get there immediately. Since he was unemployed and carless (and in too much pain to drive), I offered to drop him off on my way to work.\r\nWhen we arrived, she was screaming bloody murder, but that wasn’t all. Her stomach had expanded so that she looked about seven months pregnant.\r\nDaniel looked at her, shocked. I looked too, but couldn't keep from laughing.\r\n“You think this is funny?” she demanded.\r\n“Well, not funny ha-ha, but funny - actually, yeah, funny ha-ha.”\r\n“Honey, what’s going on?” Daniel asked me, bent over in pain.\r\n“Well,” I replied, remembering the spell I’d cast last night after they’d both passed out, “It was pretty clear that your mother only considered one woman fit to carry your child. And now she is. And thanks to the magic of… well, magic, you’ll get to feel every bit of it with her. See? Funny.”\r\n“And wait until the baby is ready to claw her way out - that’ll be hilarious!”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"It's either me or the dog,\" I said."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "He chose the dog. I've never been more relieved in my life. I tried saving my boyfriend, but he always slept through it whispering to us at night. He thinks I'm crazy. Now that he broke up with me, anything the dog does to him is not my fault."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My Mother-in-Law Said She had Prayed For My Wife to Make Her Better. Then Something Worse Happened"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My darling Cecilia. Our daughter Holly, now a teen, looks like her.\r\nWe were going through a rough patch when Holly was five. Cecilia had become irate, always upset.\r\nThen I overheard her mother saying she prayed for Cecilia to be well. I can’t remember Cecilia’s answer.\r\nThat night we had friends over.\r\nThe wine was flowing freely- until it wasn’t. I grasped an empty bottle, and turned to Cecilia. “You forgot to pick up wine?”\r\n“I thought you stopped at the liquor store! Here, give me.”\r\nShe took it, and began pouring blood-red wine into my glass. “This is full!”\r\nI sucked on the wine, pushing down the fear inching into my heart.\r\nA few days later, Cecilia and Holly were splashing about during their bedtime bath.\r\nThen I heard Holly “Mommy, I want to stand up!”\r\nI went to the bathroom. Holly was shrieking with excitement.\r\nCecilia was standing on the water. Naked, wet hair slicked down her flushed skin, she was upright, her scarlet toenails poking through the foam.\r\nI couldn’t move. Cecilia smiled, gently lowering herself into the water.\r\nI threw myself out of the bathroom and shut the door.\r\nCecilia put Holly to bed and joined me. I wanted to inhale her loveliness. But I had to say something.\r\n“No you don’t” she said. “You don’t have to say anything. I love you, you love me, and we both love Holly. That’s all. Come, to bed.” She took my hand.\r\nThe next morning, I woke to an empty bed. I could hear her voice from the garden, playing ball with Holly.\r\nI went down. Cecilia thew the ball, and Holly missed. The ball bounced over our fence, onto the street.\r\nHolly dashed like a mad rabbit, out of the gate which for some reason was open.\r\n“Holly- no!” Cecilia cried. I heard brakes and a scream cut short.\r\nWe rushed into the street.\r\nHolly was lying in a pool of blood. The driver sat rigid behind the steering wheel. Cecilia threw herself on Holly’s body. People were gathering around.\r\nThen, Holly’s foot twitched.\r\nCecilia rose. Holly opened her eyes. “Daddy?” She lifted her arms to me.\r\nRelief rippled through the crowd. I picked up my daughter.\r\nThen, I caught sight of the driver, staring straight at Cecilia.\r\nHe lifted his foot from the brake, and pressed hard on the accelerator, turning the wheel towards Cecilia.\r\nHe mowed her down, and slammed into reverse, running back over her body. A woman sobbed close to me.\r\n***\r\nHe will spend life in prison. He has no explanation, other than saying Cecilia was unnatural and had to be killed before she caused more damage. His defense brought in a psychologist who argued the trauma of thinking he had killed a little girl had unbalanced him. He screamed the girl was dead and should have remained dead. I left the courtroom.\r\nOur days pass quietly, Holly and I. Maybe one day, we will be reunited with our Cecilia."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"I wish my parents were happy,\" I said."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The genie nodded. I opened my mouth to thank him, but I could no longer speak. Horrified, I ran to my mom and dad. After writing down what happened, my mom started to laugh.\r\n\"Oh no,\" my dad said, struggling not to smile. \"How horrible.\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "“I’m so, so tired,” Jake said, unable to lift his eyelids. “Can you do the thing?”"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“Did you not sleep?” his partner, Emmie, asked, coddling the baby that lay between them, which cooed and sighed like a baby bird. “It was meant to be your turn to sleep…”\r\nYawning deeply, Jake rolled over. Opening his eyes felt like twisting the cap off a thing of superglue.\r\n“I know… but it felt wrong – like I wasn’t helping enough.”\r\n“I get it,” Emmie said, encouraging the baby to latch in lieu of a bottle. “But you must try. We can’t both be up all night every night… We’ll go mad!”\r\nJake smiled.\r\n“Coffee?” he yawned again, causing Emmie to yawn too.\r\n“It’s infectious!” she laughed quietly, stroking the baby’s head.\r\nPulling on a dressing gown, Jake stumbled down the stairs in his underpants.\r\n“Mom!” he yelped, pulling the parted gown together.\r\n“Yes?” she asked wryly.\r\n“What are you doing here?”\r\nShe chuckled, an eyebrow raised, unable to tell whether he was joking or not. “You and your sense of humour… Coffee?”\r\nShe passed him a mug. Then another.\r\n“Go rest,” she smiled warmly. “Take that up.”\r\nBack in the room, Jake passed Emmie her coffee. “When did my parents arrive?” he quizzed.\r\n“Yesterday? The day before? Everything is…blurry,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.\r\n“We should try to rest,” Jake said, trying not to sound concerned as he stared at the baby absentmindedly.\r\nBut every time he was about to drift off, the baby would fuss, gripe or bawl uncontrollably.\r\n“Teething…” Emmie groaned.\r\n“I need to do some work anyway,” Jake sighed.\r\nThis pattern went on for days. Weeks. Working from home was initially a blessing, but after a while it meant no respite from either world – baby or meetings.\r\nNighttime was the worst. He began to actively dread it. The sun going down was a real trigger, as it meant another sleepless night was only hours away. He would become irascible. Difficult.\r\n“Mum!!” He called one night, desperate for help.\r\n“She left…days ago,” Emmie yawned, still half asleep.\r\nHe shook his head angrily, bouncing the baby up and down, up and down…\r\nAnd then it was morning.\r\nHe panicked. His last memory was of holding the baby.\r\nBut worse. There was blood on the covers, in the space between him and Emmie.\r\nNonononononono…\r\nHe felt nauseous. Shaking violently, he delicately lifted the quilt up, where there was blood still pooling in black spots.\r\nThere, on the sheet, was a tangle of feathers and guts – the visceral remains of a bird… But it was still moving.\r\nHow…?\r\nHearing a flutter of wings, he pulled the sheet all the way off, revealing a baby bird that was pulling eagerly at the unfurled bowels of the bigger, dead bird – and it squawked at him violently as Emmie came in, cradling nothing in her arms.\r\n“Daddy’s up!” she fussed, bouncing and swaying as though she was holding something. The sound of overspilling bath water roared in the background.\r\n“Bath time now.”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "“What's that?” Jane’s son said, staring intently at their back door. Its glass panels were misty with condensation and dashed on the outside with beads of ice and snow. But there was something else there."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“Look,” he pointed, Jane tousling his hair as she leant beside him. “It’s red.”\r\nHe was right. There were smudges on the glass, almost like something had been trying to get in. It looked like blood.\r\nJane frowned. “Enid!” she called upstairs.\r\n“WhhrRrr...” her eldest daughter slurred in reply.\r\n“Can you check the dogs? I’m making breakfast.”\r\nIt was rare that one of the dog’s got out, though not unheard of.\r\nSetting the table, Jane watched Enid bustle out and then in through the back door, shaking the snow off her jeans’ hems and hat. “Patch isn’t in the kennel,” she declared.\r\n“Go get your sister up; she found him last time.”\r\nThat dog, she grumbled internally.\r\nShe loved their huskies – they were family. Built for the cold. Built to run.\r\nTheir lives would be infinitely harder without them.\r\nBut Patch... If ever there was a problem, it was always Patch.\r\n“Mum!” Enid called down the stairs. “Ingrid’s gone too.”\r\nJane felt a flutter of anxiety, nearly burning her hands on the grill tray she was holding. Something wasn’t right.\r\n“Enid - come eat with Krissy. Make sure he finishes,” she requested, pulling on her winter gear.\r\n“What’s that for?” Enid asked, nodding at the rifle.\r\n“Just in case,” Jane frowned, filling her pockets with shells.\r\nStepping out with a crunch, she took a deep, steadying breath, the ice cold air heady with the scent of fresh snow. A light wind tugged at the heads of the pines, which after a hundred feet or so receded into mist. Despite the fresh powder, she spotted the tracks right away and loaded the rifle.\r\nThen she heard the faint keening of a dog.\r\nIt was Patch. He was wounded, bad. There was red around his eyes and mouth, and the snow under him was churned into a pink slush.\r\nA sudden wave of dread washed over her.\r\nThe tracks continued into the pines. She shouldered her rifle.\r\nJane saw the dog first, tearing at what was left of Ingrid, it’s red face a mess of clotted fur and bits of her coat.\r\nIt turned to her and growled, but before she could fire everything went black...\r\nFIVE YEARS LATER\r\n“And that was the last time I saw her,” Enid sighed. “On the day the world went to shit...”\r\nStanding with Tammy, another survivor, Enid surveyed the tundra through the scope of her rifle, watching the moon rise above the tree line.\r\n“I’ll never be able to understand it,” she grimaced. “They were our best friends, and whether or not we shed a virus that was causing it, why would you try to cure them? Why would you try to fix dogs?”\r\n“Fucking science,” she grizzled, as the first howl split the quiet of dusk."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "“Blood is thicker than water” she said cutting both wrists with my razer."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I heard that expression before that moment and I never gave it a second thought, but as I watched my blood rolling down my hand and into the bucket it was all I could think about. It wasn’t really flowing, it was more of a splutter, the fact that I was dehydrated for a day's only made it worse, and the color, it looked almost brown.\r\nHer blood was the opposite, bright red and almost transparent as it poured from her finger like a tap, I suppose sitting around watching me swinging there, upside down while drinking a twelve pack of beer will do that. You might ask why I didn’t I ask for a beer, well, I'll just say, I didn’t like where she put the last one.\r\nThe first time she cut me I thought I was going to die, but no. She knew exactly what she was doing and taped up my wound just before I was ready to pass out. She was a nurse before this I suppose.\r\nAs painful as it was draining my blood it was nothing compared to when she put it back in.\r\nThe bucket she used to mix our blood wasn’t even cleaned properly, she just gave it a quick rinse under the tap. As you can imagine, it made me ill quite a few times, but luckily, she always had the right medication at hand to nurse me back to health.\r\nWatching her slowly fill one iv with our blood and the other with water I knew what was coming, but I didn’t complain, not this time.\r\n“So, darling” she smiled manically while connecting one Iv to my upper thigh and the other to what's between them, “I am going to ask you a few questions, if you get one right you get the water, and if you don’t, well we don’t want that now do we.”\r\nI didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded aggressively.\r\n“Good” she said knocking out one of my teeth opening her last beer, “The last time we spoke, you said family always come first, is that right?”\r\nAgain, I nodded.\r\n“So do you actually believe that” she asked.\r\nI knew it was a trick question, but if I didn’t answer I would have been punished anyways. So, I blurted out, “No?” hoping she might appreciate my honesty.\r\nShe didn’t.\r\nWith one hard squeeze of her hand, she squirted the whole bag of blood into me, swelling me up like a balloon. Which gave a whole new meaning to the phrase blood is thicker than water because as much as the water hurt, it was nothing compared to the agony I felt from the blood.\r\nWhat did I do to deserve this you might ask, cheating husband maybe?\r\nNo, I was the doctor that mistakenly gave her tainted blood, unfortunately she was pregnant at the time."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Mrs Carrington said \"Simon says, stop.\" So, we stopped."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Mrs Carrington lost her smile.\r\nJust like all the other teachers who taught us. I was wondering when she was going to snap too. I tallied in my notebook how many times her voice broke, her hands tightening into fists when Rowan asked if she brushed her hair. After days and then weeks of waiting, our teacher lost her mind on a random Tuesday when it was raining.\r\nShe was writing a poem when Summer Carlisle stood up.\r\nSummer bullied me for weeks because I didn't get skin care products for Christmas.\r\nI did ask, but Mom laughed at me.\r\n“For what skin? Ruby, you are nine years old!”\r\n“Mrs Carrington,” Summer mocked. “How old are you again?”\r\nOur teacher's lip pricked. “I am thirty one, Summer.”\r\n“Ew!” Summer pulled a face. “Isn't thirty, like suuuper old?”\r\nMrs Carrington stopped writing when the class erupted into laughter.\r\n“Why don't we play Simon says?”\r\nShe stepped forward, her dark eyes drinking all of us in. That moment, I felt the air around me still. Her voice slammed into me like a wave of water.\r\n“Simon says stop.”\r\nWe… did stop.\r\nI stopped. I could feel the breath in my lungs. I was still breathing, still alive, still conscious and looking at my teacher, but I had stopped. I thought it was a joke.\r\nBut Mrs Carrington didn't say Simon says go.\r\nShe didn't end the game.\r\nI stopped for hours. Then days. Then weeks. Seasons started to change in the corner of my eye, but I was always there.\r\nAlways glued to my seat. Rain hit the windows. The sun baked into the back of my neck. I was aware of my hair growing out, long, and then short, and then in a ponytail, like an invisible me was continuing on– while I had stopped.\r\nI grew taller. I sensed my body twist and contort, my skin growing itchy. I felt emotions, new ones I didn't understand.\r\nI felt anger and frustration, pain and sadness. But then came love. Love felt like warm water coming over me. Heartbreak felt like suffocating.\r\nSometimes I disassociated.\r\nI could see the other kids.\r\nSummer didn't look like a nine year old anymore.\r\nJack looked like my older brother.\r\nI can't remember when I stopped screaming, stopped hammering on the barrier inside my mind, begging to die– to be released from Simon Says. Mrs Carrington’s voice did finally hit us.\r\n“Simon says… go.\"\r\nI blinked rapidly. I was standing on a stage wearing a graduation gown.\r\nClass of 2034.\r\nI could see my Mom in the audience. I didn't remember Mommy having wrinkles. When the crowd had stopped clapping, my class seemed to snap out of it. Rowan dropped to his knees. Summer started screaming, an agonising wail rattling in my ears.\r\nHer fingers carved into her face, ripping at her hair.\r\nI dropped my diploma, already screaming for my mother.\r\nWrapping my arms around her, I was shaking.\r\n“Mommy.” I whispered.\r\n“I'm old!”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "“You’re early” death said “What happened…?”"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“I… I don’t know” a feeble voice replied\r\nIt was mine, it was my voice, what is ‘mine’?\r\n“Well darling, what is your name?” The cloaked woman asked.\r\nWho is ‘your’? I racked my brain for an answer, what is a brain?\r\nI can feel it now, I felt the warmth on my face, it made me happy, what is ‘happy’?\r\n“I feel sick” that same foreign voice told her.\r\n“Oh darling I see that, the world wasn’t supposed to end this way, I suppose I should be grateful that your eyes were closed, that you didn’t see it hit. Nonetheless, I have eight billion others behind you, so you best be on your way.”\r\nThe moment I stepped past her I saw it all, my birth, my life, and my death, all the bright lights, the warmth, life was nice, there were space explorers, and the woman who made the really smart machines was with them too, she promised to come back with machines that would change the world. I miss life, I want to go back, but there’s nothing but craters to come back to."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My friend died. The doctors said it was sleep apnea, but they’re wrong, I was there that night."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "It was easy to see why they think it, Gerard's snoring would wake the dead. My parents wouldn’t even allow us to have sleepovers unless they were at his house because he used to keep them awake even though my room was on the other side of the house. I’m sure he had the condition, even though it was never officially diagnosed. But just because something seems obvious doesn’t mean it’s true.\r\nGerard's death was no real surprise to him; he had already come to terms with it. He only wanted me there so he wouldn’t be on his own when it happened. I thought he was just being dramatic, to be honest, but he was my friend so what could I do?\r\nWith all the shadow stories, Gerard thought I would be scared and offered to keep the light on. But I said, “No, it’s bad enough listening to your snoring all night besides having to look at your ugly mug as well.” I wanted to lighten the mood, he had himself really freaked out and had a tenancy to ramble on when he was nervous, and I just wanted to go to sleep and be done with the whole thing.\r\n“Oh, you won’t be saying that tomorrow” he said in a smug tone, “not when you see them take me away in the back of a hearse. I just hope you take my advice and keep your eyes closed or it won’t be long before you'll be joining me.”\r\nI almost laughed when he said it, but I didn’t want to listen to another lecture about how lucky I was that it never came for me. It being the boogieman, I guess. He said it had been haunting him since he was a child, he could feel it, hiding in the shadows, feeding on his fear, hoping he would look into his swirling black eyes so he could finish him off. He thinks the only reason he lasted this long was because he was too much of a coward to look.\r\nI just ignored him and went to sleep but was awakened shortly afterwards by his snoring. That’s when it hit me, that dreaded feeling, like someone was watching me, I could almost feel their breath on my face. All that was going through my mind was a little voice say, “Don’t look, don’t look, for God's sake don’t look.”\r\nIt was only then that I noticed the silence, and silence was very unusual with Gerard in the room. So, I decided to have a peep, just in case something was wrong. The next thing I know it’s morning, Gerard is dead and I'm in the corner shaking in fear. Everyone thinks it was because of Gerard, but it wasn’t, it was because I knew those eyes, those swirling black eyes were coming for me."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "At first we were friends, nothing more. They always said we would end up together but we knew it wasn’t possible, at least I did"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Then he said we had a connection and I thought let's try this, what’s the worst that could happen.\r\nThen we became lovers, it was fun; he was tall, dark and handsome, what else could I want, I tried to tell myself. Enjoy this, others would kill for this and I tried.\r\nThen we got married and that was the breaking point. I always knew he was possessive but I didn't know he was crazy. He never hit me but | wish he did, then I would have an excuse to leave but he didn't. Instead he treated me like I was the last drop of water in a desert, at least he thought that was what he was doing. He would always make jokes, jokes that weren't funny and actually quite hurtful or maybe he was just telling jokes and I was reading too much into it .\r\nIt got worse everyday.I found myself walking in front of cars, at first by accident because\r\nthere was so much on my mind, then on purpose but they just never hit, oh well live another day.\r\nHe drove me crazy. The way he looked at me while I was sleeping and texted me throughout the day. That was when I started the affairs, I just wanted out. It wasn't one guy and I didn't love or like any of them, I just wanted to feel something.It didn't work.\r\nI was smart and cunning at first, never leaving any tracks or clues, then I started being careless.I left my phone unlocked, brought partners home. Did I do it for the thrill or did I want to get caught, I don't know.\r\nWhen he caught me,it was surreal, he shouted and trashed the house and I found myself laughing. Had I finally gotten my dopamine rush from being caught, I was crazy at this point and both of us knew it, he probably was a little crazy too. “You're proud of yourself right” he said. Then he took the gun, I thought he was going to kill me, I was ready, then he pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger. The noise was deafening. It wasn’t like the movies where they dramatically go down, he went straight down, there was so much blood but that wasn’t what I couldn’t get out of my head, it was the noise. “so loud” I thought as I pointed the gun to my head and pulled the trigger"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I have amnesia, my mother said it's from a \"car accident\""
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I saw her face looming over me and that thing behind her... I woke up in a soft bed, surrounded by people in hospital gowns yelling words I couldn't hear. Everything around me was as bright as the flashlight shining on my face. \"Fuck!\" I growled at the brightness as I sat up, only to be pushed back onto the bed by a nurse. Every inch of my body was aching as I realized I had no idea who or where I was.\r\nAfter a while, most of the nurses had left, and I sat in the blindingly light room with the doctor and my mother. The doctor had told me I was in a car accident, and while I hadn't suffered many injuries, I had lost my memories From that day. I took the news pretty well when he told me my memories would return soon, though I'd have to stay in the hospital for a few days to monitor me. The doctor allowed my mother to accompany me that night.\r\nI heard a weird shuffling noise as I opened my eyes. 03:33 am, the clock on my bedside table said in glowing green light. I observed my surroundings, still half asleep, remembering I was hospitalized.\r\nI looked to the left, at my table and the window behind it. It was unusually dark, even for this time of the night. Where were all the streetlights, I wondered.\r\nI looked to the right, at the empty chair in front of the half-open curtain showing a row of vacant beds. Was the room always this quiet?\r\nI looked up.\r\nI saw my mother's contorted face, a wide drooling smile, hair messy and greasy, eyes glowing green. I backed away in shock as she crawled closer.\"Looks like I didn't get the job done....\" She slithered, now inches away from my face.\r\nAs I looked into her twisted expression coming closer, the memories suddenly returned.\r\n03:33 am, said my old clock, ticking away at my wall. I had awakened from a weird dream, uncomfortably drenched in sweat. The floor creaked as I got up and wobbled into the hallway, into the toilet. As I looked up to observe the way, I noticed a bright green light shining below my mother's door. I put my head against the door, hearing weird mumbling on the other side. Against my better judgment, I decided to peek through the keyhole.\r\nA glooming green figure stood over my mother, mumbling some chantings in a slithery voice. Green writings illuminated Mother's room yet seemingly passed through the mysterious being. I stumbled over in shock, causing a big \"thud\" to echo through the empty halls. The next thing I saw was my mother's face looming over me, hands tight around my neck, and that thing behind her. Oh god, I wish I had forgotten that face...\r\nI wish I didn't remember it."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "What's Said Around the Fire"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My stepdad and I never got along well. In fact, it could easily be determined that we hated each other. I was, and still sometimes am, a self-righteous, egotistical, punk kid. He was a different kind of self-righteous, egotistical, abusive prick.\r\nAll of that said, throughout my childhood, I can tell you that he did two, and only two things right. He taught me a lot about the outdoors, survival, self-sufficience, etc. And, he was a great storyteller.\r\nI remember he loved to tell a lot of stories about cryptids. Sasquatch, wendigo, chupacabra. You know? The usual stuff. He always \"had a friend\" that had seen some crazy creature or another. A lot of his stories were from indigenous folks and had some close friends when he was young, who lived on the reservations in California. They all shared stories pretty often back in the day, apparently.\r\nHe told me once about a group of cryptids called Little People. The stories basically go that the Little People were protectors of children. They would usually be seen comforting children that were sad or lonely, and some would say that orphaned children would be taken into the tribes of the Little People and become one of them. They did not like adults, though, most often hiding from them, but in some versions, they were tricksters and sometimes even evil. They would often trick adults into coming into the woods by mimicing the cries of babies and small children. Luring them away until they were lost and eat them.\r\nWhat's interesting about the story of the Little People in particular is that there are cultures all over the world, not connected to each other, that all have similar creatures. The celtic fae, the Patupaiarehe of the Māori, the Duende from the Iberian Peninsula, the Greek Pygmys. Perhaps they were stories made up to explain how folks end up with dwarfism, or maybe a humanoid race that went extinct. It could even be that they really are spirits that enjoy spending their time in the deep forests.\r\nRegardless, I am sitting alone at my campfire now. I hear a baby crying just past the treeline and the subtle hint of children's laughter on the breeze. A sense of dread settles in, and I realize that perhaps I should have taken my stepdads stories more seriously."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They Said"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "They told me not to come here, oh god why did I come here? Curiosity got the better of me… I’m getting tired now, my legs are burning, I’m dizzy… need… water…\r\nThey won’t let me stop, they just keep giggling and pushing me around, my arms flailing, my legs out of control, they’ve got a hold on me… it’s been hours now…\r\nDon’t go down to Fyrn Woods during full moon they said, it’s where the goblins dance they said, and whatever you do don’t look them in the eye they said, they’ll make you dance yourself to death."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I ask a guy if I could swap seats with him on a plane, he said no"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I'm on a plane but I wanted a window seat and so I asked the person who had the window seat, whether I could have it. He wouldn't allow it and I couldn't believe it, I tried paying for a window seat but something went wrong, and I had a seat which I didn't want. It was the companies fault for messing up the seating situation, and so I thought I deserve a window seat. I complained and the guy sitting next to the window wouldn't budge, and I know other people in the aeroplane were giving me serious angry looks but I didn't give a shit.\r\nI started complaining to the plane stewards and stewardesses, and they were just telling me to sit down at my seat. I kept complaining how it was the companies fault for messing up the seating system, as I booked a window seat. They didn't give a shit and I kept demanding that they give me the window seat of my choice and I can tell everyone on the aeroplane were preferring a baby crying compared to a grown man complaining. Window seats on the plane are the best seats and yes they can be annoying when you need to go to the bathroom, but other than that they are the best.\r\nI kept asking the guy whether he could just swap seats with me and he kept saying no, and so I kept asking. At one point he became angry and I just started smiling. Then I kept on asking whether he could just swap seats with me consistently, and I knew I was getting to him. I am going to win thus battle of changing seats and I will get my window seat because I deserve one. I was determined to get what I want because I don't give up.\r\nThen I started hassling the plane crew again and because I really wanted to sit next to the window. Then I decided to get physical and I knew that the only way I could get the seat that I want is by brutal force. So forcibly took the guy out of his seat and I punched, kicked and choked out the plane crew who tried to stop me, they are all weak asses.\r\nThen as I got to my windrow seat I was in such awe of the view. It is truly the best seat in the house, but everyone on the plane started screaming and crying, as the plane was going down. The pilot kept shouting at me that he needed to get back to his seat, so he could fly the plane.\r\nI'm just enjoying the view."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I don't love my fiancée and deeply resent the fact that we have to get married. That said, I will never, EVER leave her."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Alex and I shared our first kiss on October 2nd, 1997. We’d been neighbours for a while and always 'liked' each other, in that childish sort of way.\r\nOver the years, we gradually transitioned into boyfriend/girlfriend, but as our teens reared their ugly heads, she maintained her fixation with creepy dolls and an annoying tendency to throw temper tantrums.\r\nI was outgrowing her.\r\nThings reached a bitter end the night I kissed Natalie at a school disco. Within seconds, Alex had her on the ground, hands wrapped tight around poor Nat’s throat. After separating them, I explained Alex and I simply weren’t right for each other. The poor thing was heartbroken.\r\nTo soften the blow, I added, “How about if both of us make it to 33 without getting married, we get hitched?”\r\n“You mean it?”\r\nI swore, thinking I’d find love LONG before that point.\r\nThroughout University, I dated a girl named Hannah. We planned on moving to London after graduation, but then she died in a car accident. She wasn’t even driving, just standing on the wrong stretch of pavement.\r\nChariya came next, after an adequate grieving period. We rented a flat together until she suddenly vanished one morning.\r\nI figured she’d flown home to Thailand without telling me…\r\nLaura, Laura was definitely the one. She had the kind of figure that prevented men from maintaining eye contact and a wicked sense of humour.\r\nHowever, while out scuba diving, her breathing apparatus got tangled with a passing speed boat, and that was that.\r\nSuddenly, I became a bachelor in his third decade, laden with the trauma of deceased ex-partners.\r\nOn my 33rd birthday, a Facebook message popped up. It was Alex, asking if I wanted to grab dinner.\r\nReluctantly, I obliged. We chose an Italian restaurant, and she turned up in a figure-hugging purple dress.\r\nOur conversation quickly became staler than the breadsticks I asked the waiter for five times. Alex, inevitably, mentioned the agreement, and after a weary sigh I broke the news: that I’d started dating a woman named Stacey.\r\nHurt by the broken promise, Alex became incensed. I knew I could calm her with another carrot on a stick and promised I’d instantly propose should Stacey and my relationship ever end.\r\n“She must be quite a catch,” Alex said, reaching forward to grab a blonde hair off my collar.\r\nBefore I left, Stacey and I had been getting frisky…\r\n“Yeah. Ex-Olympian. Still coaches, actually.”\r\nAlex dropped the hair into her handbag, and for a moment I glimpsed a doll similar to the ones she collected as a child. She grabbed a knife and made it disappear inside the bag, too.\r\nThe dessert menu hadn’t yet arrived when I got the call. It was Stacey’s sister with some grave news: Stacey’s heart got punctured by a javelin in a freak accident. She died instantly.\r\nAs I hung up, shocked, Alex leaned over the table, her hand cupped beneath her chin, and smiled. “Now about that proposal…”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Mother said don't go out past 8 PM."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "For as long as I can remember, I was always told never to go out past 8 PM. I live near the woods at the end of the road in a small town. There's a city about 45 minutes out that I attend school in. I never really felt like I fit in due to the fact that I live in a small town. It never really bothered me too much since I have books at home. I don't really have a phone and the one computer we do have in the house is the family computer. It's mainly used for my parents to log in to their emails for work and finish up work that they have online. I get to be on it for 2 hours during the weekday once I finish my class work. And on the weekends I get to spend 3 hours on it\r\nI feel like I have an advantage over other people with the lack of technology since I'm more grounded in reality. And that's coming from someone who spends his time reading. I don't really get out much since I get back a lot later during the weekday. I'm part of an after-school study group until 6 PM. One of the main reasons I can get 2 hours on the PC since I knock out most of my homework after school. So the weekend is really the only time I can head to the city and hang out or go to the cafe or library near my house to read in public.\r\nI'm not really sure why I can't go out past 8 PM. My parents are just really serious about it and will never elaborate. They always say that the more you tell someone not to do something, the more of an incentive you're giving them to do it. I'm aware of it yet I just can't help myself. I've looked into local records on the family computer, heard rumors from the adults talking in the neighborhood, and even looked at documents from the local library. A long time ago the church in our town decided to make a rule for nobody under the age of 16 to roam outside at the night.\r\nI read a lot of horror and supernatural, but none of this could be true. This is why tonight I decided to head into the woods. I left the house with my jacket on and a flashlight in hand. 20 minutes would pass and nothing happened. I decided to head home soon since this seemed like a false threat. That was until I saw the thing. It was a dark shadow in the shape of a large wolf. It must've been the size of 2 bears. Its black fur was blending into the night and red glowing eyes pierced my soul. It wasn't too hard to hide, but I can hear it coming. Its ground-shaking footsteps and heavy breathing are getting closer and closer. I should've listened."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They said the colour blinded me, but they're wrong, it showed me the glorious truth"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The colours in the sky haunt me. The moment I first saw them still echoes through my brain, never fading. I know I saw it, it wasn't my imagination. They were beautiful at first. So, so beautiful. That was until they started coming down to eat.\r\nThere was beams of a colour so indescribably pure, devouring mother nature's craftsmanship, slowly edging towards me. I didn't see where the trees went, all i know is I saw them and I didn't.\r\nIf it wasn't for the aggressive winds blowing over the car I too would have been devoured by the colour. If only it would leave my mind. In a way, I wanted to die for that colour, to please it as it pleased my with its blinding beauty. Blinding indeed, for I lost my sight that day, or so thats what what I was told.\r\nThe truth is that I have been seeing clearer than ever. I see nothing but the colours ever since and they have been guiding me. I know it's plan and soon their colours will be the only colours and we will all see the truth, not the lies that we saw through reds and blues. we will see the colours. The colours."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I said it wasn't for you"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I said it wasn't for you\r\nI've always loved to bake. Something my boyfriend especially loved was when I made peanut butter cookies. When my boyfriend smelled the fresh batch of peanut butter cookies he ran down the stairs. I had to stop him from eating the 1st one by telling him that's not for you. He looked at me with such a sad look in his eyes. when I told him he couldn't have one for the 2nd time. I said I wouldn't give him one even if he begged me and he finally walked away. I told him to take them over to his secretary's house. He knew I didn't talk to her much. I guess that's why he thought I wouldn't know. But when I went to the coroner's office to tell them that that was indeed my boyfriend's body. The only thing I could say as I walked out was I said it wasn't for you."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "“Thank you, thank you, I thought I was gonna drown”, she said, as I pulled her on board."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“I hope it’ll hold this time”, I said, as I attached more weights and pushed her back in the water.\r\nBut that isn't where the story starts.\r\nI'd been out drinking with the boys. A typical night; with tequila slammers, beer and clubbing. We started in the Hen and Chicken. It wasn't until days later that I found out that she’d been there too. It was on the news, retracing her last steps. I remembered her then. We'd talked about her, me and the lads. She was cute. Type of girl you’d wanna settle down with. But she was out of our league.\r\nAs I said, we went clubbing after that. Then grabbed a kebab, before heading home. Or that was the intention. John, Eric and Ian walked home. I phoned for a cab. But the bloody thing never turned up. It was 3 O'Clock in the morning and I was tired. I just wanted to lie down. So I walked to where I'd left the car. I intended to sleep in it, but the warmth and comfort of my bed was calling me.\r\nMy parents lived out in the sticks. So, once I was out of town, it was plain sailing. No risk. I drove carefully through town.\r\nI didn't see her until it was too late. It was dark. We were on a country lane. She had a black coat. I was drunk. The thud, as she hit the car, was sickening. At least, after I realised what it was. I sat there, in shock, for what seemed like ages. I knew what I'd done, but couldn't gather my thoughts on it. I thought I must be dreaming. When I finally got out of the car and walked back to where she was lying, it was too late.\r\nI took her down to my boat, in the harbour. I had to dispose of the body. I took her out into the estuary, put my diving weight belt on her and pushed her overboard.\r\nTwo things happened. First, the weight belt slipped straight over her waist. She had narrow hips and, in my rush, I hadn't tightened it enough. Second, the cold of the water brought her round. She wasn't dead after all. She didn't know where she was, but her instinct kicked in and she started to tread water. I guess, when she saw me in my boat, she thought she was saved.\r\nAs I pulled her back on board, I switched off to her. Compartmentalised my empathy. That’s the only way I can explain it. It was only afterwards, reflecting on what I’d done, that I realised that she'd survived. At least, until I drowned her.\r\nTo all her family and friends, I'm truly sorry.\r\nAs I take my life today, I like to think that I would've been a great writer one day.\r\nGoodbye."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Grandma always said her dog had three eyes"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Dad said her mind went years earlier, citing her overly salty cookies or her poultry seasoning tea. Neither tasted very good.\r\nI didn’t cry at the funeral despite the open casket. She looked scared, which I assumed was normal, and though I wasn’t sure what I believed in regarding the afterlife I hoped she would find peace.\r\nWhen she left Rupert to me in her will - that broke me.\r\nRupert was a terrier mix with black fur that had grayed around the nose. The vet I took him to seemed surprised, saying she’d never seen a dog that old with no health problems. Probably his diet, she guessed.\r\nThe noises started shortly after.\r\nEvery night I’d wake up to scratching coming from my bedroom door. I’d find Rupert outside begging to be let in. I wasn’t used to sleeping with an animal and didn’t plan on learning how, but I ordered a new pet bed online if only to get him to stop. I should have known I couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks.\r\nAn odd letter came the day the bed arrived, and I left it on the counter to unpack Rupert’s new resting place. I got sidetracked by a show I’d put on earlier and forgot about the piece of mail.\r\nI woke up again that night to scratching noises coming from the door. I sat up, cursing at the dog and wishing he would give me one solid night of sleep. I stepped out from under the covers but stopped part way.\r\nRupert was sitting in his new bed, right next to mine. And he was staring directly at my closet.\r\nI squinted to see better in the dark and adjusted my head to triangulate the source of the sound. I reached towards the closet door and halted as Rupert barked.\r\nHe growled and a seam in his fur opened up in his forehead to reveal a glowing yellow eye.\r\nHe jerked forward at the closet three times and waited, the third eye never blinking. It took me a moment to realize the scratching noises had stopped. I went back to bed, waking later to think it had all been a strange dream.\r\nI remembered the letter at breakfast. It seemed to be a posthumous message from my grandma with the final ramblings of the woman.\r\nMy dearest Jackie,\r\nI’m sorry for not telling you sooner. There’s no easy way to explain the curse. I wish I knew more. I learned a few ways to keep it away, thanks to my own grandmother.\r\nIt hates salt. Please eat it excessively - your blood pressure will not be affected.\r\nPoultry seasoning is an excellent source of sage if you can’t find it elsewhere.\r\nKeep Rupert close. He’s been in the family forever. I think he can see it.\r\nWhatever you do, don’t open its door. If you’re reading this, it means I tried to confront it and failed.\r\nGood luck,\r\nGrandma"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "The book said ”Soon based on a true story”"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I opened up the book. I read ”Soon based on a true story”. I thought to myself what the hell it meant and I wanted to find out. So i started reading.\r\n”The man is out for blood and finds a red house no parked cars on the driveway”.\r\nI came to think of that I live in a red house and that there were not any cars at home. Mom and dad are veterinarians and work night-shift often. Well this book is interesting then I thought to myself. Why not continue reading it.\r\n”The man goes by the driveway to the first window he sees. He is desperate for blood. It was such a long time since the man had the taste of blood.\r\nHe is thinking of smashing the window to get in but he checks the door to see if it’s unlocked. Surprisingly it was.”\r\nI got kind of concerned knowing that the description of the house matched with my real house. I was a little bit scared. But this was just a stupid book I thought to myself. So i continued reading.\r\n”The man has had a lot of experience of the taste of blood. For the record this is not the first time the man breaks in to a house.”\r\n”It’s queit and dark in the house. Some leftover pizza on the dinnertable and an old sleeping dog on the floor besides the dinnertable”\r\nI started to get really scared because I had eaten pizza just before and my dog was sleeping while I ate at the table.\r\n”The man is out for blood. The man stabs the dog twice in the stomach. The dog gives away a a silent crying cry.”\r\nHoly shit. My dog… It… made a sound?!. What in the actual f*ck I thought to myself.\r\n”The man tastes the blood. Such a delightning taste. Not such good as a human but it makes up for a little bit of my craving the man thought to himself. A human would make my evening he thought to himself.”\r\n”He sees stairs. Exactly 12 steps. 12 steps away from his next victim. He knows there is someone up there. He just knows.”\r\n”He takes the first few steps. He can smell the victim.”\r\nI started to hear footsteps at the stairs. The stairs was just outside my room. This must be some sick f*cking coincidence.\r\n”The man is upstairs now. He takes out his knife and looks at the first door to his right.”\r\nThats my door I thought to myself.\r\n”\"The man scraped the knife against the door. Soon he would get what he wanted. Finally he thought to himself and opened up the door.”\r\nThe door opened and I hid under my blanket.\r\nThe last thing I thought to myself was ”Soon based on a true story”."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"Kill!\" Said The Silly Little Rabbit"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Kill!\" said the silly little rabbit \"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill\"\r\n\"Okay!\" I responded \"Whom do you want me to kill?\" That was a very unusual answer, but the rabbit was so silly and little and cute, that it was impossible to outright reject his proposal.\r\n\"Kill everyone!\" said the rabbit, and cocked his head a little \"Kill all! Drown the world in a flood of blood and insanity! Show no mercy to anyone!\"\r\n\"Sorry, but I think I cant do that.\"\r\nThis seemed to rattle the silly little rabbit a little bit. His silly little eyes grew wider and his silly little nose twitched.\r\n\"Why the hell cant you? I - a rabbit - am demanding it! Who are you to question my orders?\"\r\n\"Well, its not that I do want to, dear rabbit\" I said apologetically \"But...well...I don´t quite know how to phrase it. It is just that ... I think that drowning the world in a flood of blood and insanity would be a kind of mercy at this point.\"\r\nThe rabbit began nibbling on a dandelion. \"Your thought-process seems even more retrograde than that of an average member of your primitive species. Nevertheless, your delusions interest me. Explain yourself further, worthless underling.\"\r\n\"Aww, you are so cute when you insult humankind! Anyways, what I mean is: Our world is close to the point of collapse now. Great power conflict, scarcity of resources and climate change will almost certainly turn this planet into a spitting image of hell in a few decades. And whats worst of all: We can only blame ourselves for this. We elect the politicians, build the factories, consume the products, serve in the armies. It is us, not gods, conspiracies or metahistorical forces that do this. So the appearance of a rabbit who brainwashes us and sends us on mindless killing sprees might almost feel like...closure.\"\r\n\"Closure!?\" the rabbit spat out the word. \"No being that knows sanity could dare to feel closure in the face of my awe-inspiring influence!\"\r\n\"Well, at least some could. You see, the people who do the killing could abdicate responsibility, because they are brainwashed. And the people who get killed could feel like martyrs, because they are sacrificed to the will of an evil nonhuman being. In short: both feel like the good guys. And dying while feeling like the good guy is a kind of consolation, I guess.\"\r\nThe rabbit considered this for a moment. \"What you say makes sense!\" he declared cutely \"I will refrain from carving my mark into this world. But do not dare to turn from your self-destructive path! If you do, I shall return immediately! And on that day, madness will rule this planet.\"\r\nI shrugged. \"Madness already rules this planet. Its just a very boring, workaday kind of madness.\"\r\nThe rabbit did not respond to this. He just turned and scuttled away, cursing like a trooper as he did so."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They said it was a sewer alarm..."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "2021’s winter storms hit us hard in the southeast. Snow, ice, and downed trees abounded, but the worst part was when everything went dark.\r\nNormally a power outage is a mild inconvenience of a few minutes or hours, and on the rare occasion you’ll be out for a few days. It’s nothing a person can’t prepare for with a generator, but this year we moved to a new place that was built with long term survival in mind.\r\nAs the realtor took us on a tour of the house and property, the level of preparation was impressive.\r\nShe explained.\r\n“The previous owner was an older gentleman, who 10 years ago developed a nearly obsessive interest in maintaining his standard of living during these types of outages. There’s a 100 kilowatt backup generator capable of running off a propane tank, and solar panels on the roof.\r\nThe house was perfect--backup power was just a bonus. It was even fully furnished, although not quite in our style. The man had been an exotic animal hunter. Trophy animals filled the walls—some of which I couldn’t identify--and specimens in large jars lined shelves.\r\nThere WAS one thing I’d never seen before…a sewer pump. It was basically a big sump pump with a heavy iron lid.\r\nThe realtor continued.\r\n“A sewer pump is used when pipes flow uphill to the treatment plant. If there’s any problems, an alarm will sound. It also has a backup battery.”\r\nThe price was right, so we went for it. Six weeks after we moved-in, the storms hit, and the power went out within hours. The generator kicked on immediately, but stopped after a few minutes. The propane tank was empty, but the solar batteries kicked-in.\r\nAt 2am though, a deafening sound came from outside. It was the pump alarm. Locating the silencer, I quieted the buzzing, then saw a timer labeled “battery” counting down. Only seven minutes remained.\r\nWhen the timer expired, a clicking sound guided my eyes to an electric lock that had disengaged.\r\nLack of a sewage smell compelled me to open the lid, and as I shined a light into what was definitely not a sewer pump…I saw a man.\r\nHe was nude, his skin a mess of healed bullet and stab wounds…none of which showed stitch marks. One long scar circled his torso, and others indicated his arms and legs were sawed off and had grown back…although not quite symmetrically. Marks around the neck gave the appearance that he had been hanged…many times.\r\nHis squinting eyes were kind though, and speaking with a voice in stark contrast to his appearance, he said…\r\n“Please get me out. That crazy old man put me down here.”\r\nMesmerized, I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to help this man. The feeling tugged with tremendous force, but as I turned to get a ladder a small placard under the lid caught my attention.\r\nNOT HUMAN. DO NOT TRUST IT. IT CAN’T BE KILLED."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "What The Spiders Said"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "This is what the spiders said\r\nAs they climbed into my bed:\r\nDrive the clerks and doctors wild\r\nStab the midwife, choke your child\r\nThis is what the spiders claim:\r\nIt is good to kill and maim\r\nParsons teachings, sages advice\r\nAre but words of hypocrites\r\nThis is what the spiders do:\r\nPrompt me to make witches brew\r\nRub it on my chest and thigh\r\nSmash the window, jump and - fly"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I live in a cabin in the woods with my Uncle, but he said we were moving to the city."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My Uncle told me that I had to stay inside until he came back to get me. It was cold outside and he needed to get us something to eat, otherwise we wouldn't make the journey. I saw him take his rifle, his winter coat, and his bag, then disappear into the blizzard outside. The look on his face seemed quite desperate, but my Uncle has been able to hunt in worse conditions than this. I keep my eyes glued to the outside and my ears trained on any faint bangs that might come from the distance. But as soon as day turned into night, and the snow began to pile up, my eyes got too heavy, and I laid myself down, hoping that my Uncle would be home any minute with a big fat deer! But, I'd settle for something like a rabbit or even a squirrel.\r\nI made the mistake of letting the fire go out, and I woke up from a cold chill on my feet. I crawled over to the fireplace and put some logs inside. I grabbed some woodflakes that Uncle had by the door to act as kindle to start a fire. As I held the flakes in my hand, they ignited, and I placed them gently into the fireplace. Before long, the cabin was nice and toasty.\r\nI looked back outside to see if I could catch Uncle coming back from the hunt. I saw him coming back, but he was joined by a few more men. They looked like they were men from the church. Before I had time to get ready, they came into the cabin. One of the men started throwing water onto me while the other two men held me down. My Uncle came in behind them and locked the door, while he waited outside. As the preacher read from his precious book, I smiled and ignited the pages. The two men holding me down looked like they were capable men, but they were ill prepared for what was to come.\r\nAfter some pleading and begging, I unlocked the door and invited my Uncle back inside. He stepped over the men and pulled 3 rabbits out of his bag. I was so excited! We had some time before people came looking for the preacher, so we cooked the rabbits and headed out.\r\n\"So Uncle, why can't we live here anymore?\"\r\nMy Uncle set fire to the cabin and spoke sternly, \"small towns like these take notice when people go missing. We can hide better in the city, and you can have your fill of souls there child.\"\r\nI smiled the largest grin I had.\r\n\"And then\", he added, \"You can give my niece back to me.\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Everything said is the same as everything else"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "It’s just dead weight I want rid of. New year, new me. I tried to smile.\r\nI’d actually started walking with a limp because of it.\r\nI looked in the mirror. My skin looked like old paint, dried, peeling. Discoloured. For being the live one I looked awfully like a corpse.\r\nI remembered lying in bed with Clara, she’d cling to my right side always, one hand on my chest and an elbow in my ribs.\r\nIt’s hard to look at her now. It’s difficult to describe - her face I mean- her body is relatively unchanged. Her head juts unevenly, and if I stroke her hair my hand gets stuck in the bloody tufts which remain on the shattered apex of her skull. There’s no getting lost in those glassy eyes now, they’re swollen shut. I could look at her mouth but the muscles in her cheeks have slackened and her mandible has partially detached itself from the rest of her jaw. There are missing teeth and a swollen tongue; her lips are either gone or are unrecognisable because of the decay. It hardly matters now. Still, I can feel her body pressed against me, her legs ivy-wrapped with mine.\r\nWith hard work and exercise we can get it shifted, Dougal says gently.\r\nI look back to the mirror. It’s been three years, I’m ready to let her go.\r\nBut still she clings to me, one hand on my chest and an elbow in my ribs."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"Hunt monsters long enough, young man, and you start to become them.\" The old hunter said. You thought he was being figurative, until the day you started growing spines."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“The worms must be pulled,” I said. “They spoil the soul.”\r\nThe doctor looked at me for a while before scribbling something in his notebook. Then he peered at me again over his spectacles, his brow furrowed.\r\n“Tell me about the worms, John,” he said.\r\n“They sprout, they feed,” I said.\r\n“Who told you to pull the worms?”\r\n“The hunter.”\r\n“Who is the hunter?”\r\n“He taught me how to pull and where to pull.”\r\n“Show me the hunter, John,” he said.\r\n“Only in the dark. Only in the quiet.”\r\n“Can you show me? I’m going to leave the room now.”\r\nYes, leave. I could hear him before he came. The doctor left, and the light turned off. I moved slightly and the bed creaked.\r\nThe hunter appeared in the corner of the room, his eyes murky in the gloom.Old rags fell upon him dirty and brown like seaweed upon a sailor’s corpse.\r\n“You killed the monsters, John,” he said. “You did a man’s job.”\r\nYes. I could see them briefly, screaming in my wife’s voice, trying to trick me into thinking they were my little boys in their little boys’ clothes.\r\n“But they’re coming for you now John,” the hunter said. “Look.”\r\nFirst it was a prickling, and then a finger burst out of my side, wiggling like it was beckoning me to come closer.\r\n“You’ve got to pull them or you’ll become them,” he said.\r\nI grabbed it and pulled. Another poked out the other side, the thumbnail pale and moon-shaped. I felt along my back and there they were, wriggling like a line of worms squirming up to my neck. I pulled them out, the worms that wanted my soul.\r\nThey were on my hands, I pulled them, fluid oozing from the healed spots. Deworming. Good for the cat, good for the soul, the hunter had said. I am a hunter and the hunter am I."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My Friend's Mom always said that I am a Good Friend?"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I love my friend so much. He is a very good person, he is a ranker, a good sportsman, helps people like me, always remains happy and also people like him very much. He also has a great social – media following. Nice, isn’t he. He has helped me many times and so I owed him.\r\nOne day randomly he had received a call, threatening his life. He called me and said that he wanted to, ’get off the grid ‘and hide somewhere in isolation for a few months.\r\nSo I told him that that I will help him and; one day night I took my car and drove to the place where he wanted to go with him. In the way he was telling me how happy he was to have a friend like me and that he trusted only me. He didn’t even tell this to his parents. I commented:”I am just owing you, decreasing my debt.”\r\nWe reached the place, he got down and I wished him luck and after some time drove away. A few days later his parents got seriously concerned and complained to the police. Police kept searching for weeks.\r\nUntil, one day I heard the sirens on my door. They had come to arrest me. I asked why.\r\nAfter interrogation, they opened my car’s trunk and there lay my “friend’s” body finely diced. I gave in to the police. What could I’ve done? He was too good to be killed. It was hard for me, as he shook a lot and suffered with the loss of his life and breath. Then finally I took a knife and a saw. I diced him slowly. His dead eyes were filled with pain and terror. His body is now practically unidentifiable. Now his cute grin and smile are gone. Just as he would’ve looked when I had threatened him on the call.\r\nI am still ‘jealous’ of him."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "That's What She Said!"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Write out that entire thing?\" I asked. \"But it's going to be so long!\"\r\n\"That's what she said,\" joked Brian, my annoying boss.\r\nA few hours later, I realized I ran out of paper. I was given no choice but to give what I had done to Brian, muttering \"I couldn't fit it all in.\"\r\n\"That's what she said,\" joked Brian, putting aside all of my hard work.\r\nBy the end of the week, the paycheck I received was decreased substantially compared to what it's supposed to be. I called him 4 times before he finally picked up, and his only excuse was that he was talking with his wife. \"What gives?\" I demanded. \"Where's the rest of it?\"\r\n\"That's what she said,\" joked Brian moments before hanging up.\r\nIt wasn't even a week later before I got fired. He couldn't even bother making eye contact with me, instead repeatedly glancing at a framed picture of his wife. Shocked, I exclaimed back, \"So that's it, huh?! You're just going to screw me like this?\"\r\n\"That's what she said,\" joked Brian before telling me to get out of his office.\r\nWhen I followed Brian down the sidewalk that night, he was walking with his wife. \"You finally got rid of that idiot?\" his wife asked. \"I expected it to be much harder...\"\r\n\"That's what she said,\" Brian was about to joke before I knocked them both unconscious.\r\nWeeks later, Brian was still in my basement. His ribs were showing from the lack of food I gave him. Large cuts and bruises ran up and down his half naked body. The wrist that was held secure by his handcuffs was a dark blue, stained red by the blood he's shed. Stained red from the pain he's inflicted on me, the pain that I decided to finally inflict back.\r\nAnd I know just how to do it.\r\nWhen Brian saw me enter the room, he cried out, \"Please let me go! Please, I'll do whatever you want! I just want to go home!\"\r\n\"That's what she said,\" I coldly responded, letting his wife's severed head fall in front of him."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Ghosts Aren't Real, They Said"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Ghosts aren't real,\" my parents would always tell me.\r\nNeither were vampires, werewolves, witches, or ghouls.\r\nPay no attention to the flickering lights, or the sudden drafts, or the things that go bang in the night.\r\nNever mind the creaking walls, the foreign howls, the suspicious leaks of amber liquid.\r\nBecause if I paid too much attention, I risked turning my gaze toward phantoms, metaphors whose symbolism long ago trespassed onto tangibility, and away from the true horrors that were right in front of us.\r\nThe people who turn off the lights from 40 miles away. Who deprive us of our heat. Who refuse to fix the leaks and clean the water.\r\nThe people who try to get in. Who make loud noises and take and beat. Who are meant to protect but instead require protecting from.\r\nPeople. That's all it is. Person after person after person after person. Machines of flesh and blood with brains that can destroy civilizations.\r\nOf course there's no such thing as ghosts. Or vampires or werewolves or witches or ghouls. Such a silly thing to waste one's fear on.\r\nWe would all be wise to stay cognizant of this fact, lest we make ourselves vulnerable to the very real monsters among us."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Mommy said I was gifted."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“Mommy always said that I was gifted,\r\nI was different from the world that existed”\r\n“One day she said, I needed to go,\r\nI need to learn few things, as I grow”\r\n“With a heavy heart, I entered the class,\r\nI was delighted to see everyone at last”\r\n“Everyone looked and smiled at me,\r\nBut their smile turned wide into laugh carefree”\r\n“They pointed at my face, as they pass,\r\nI thought there was something wrong with the class”\r\n“But soon I realized it was my face,\r\nA pale dark skin with scars at place”\r\n“I tried to explain it was not my fault,\r\nI wanted them to know the scars won’t haunt”\r\n“I offered them my toys and my little hand,\r\nAll I wanted was friendship they could lend”\r\n“But they laughed, joked and pushed me around,\r\nTeachers stood still, with their closed mouth”\r\n“Mommy was wrong, she always lied,\r\nThey made me sit alone, no matter what I tried”\r\n“I tried to wipe my scars with a towel and soap,\r\nBut there was no change, I lost all hope”\r\n“Everyday was same, in spite of all tries,\r\nThere were no tears left in my eyes”\r\n“At last, I got a plan, worth a try,\r\nWhich would make them, my ally”\r\n“I broke my favourite toy, got a sharp screw,\r\nI went near them, and I began to drew”\r\n“I heard their cries, but I did what I needed to,\r\nThere was some blood, but I was right I always knew”\r\n“Someone groped me and threw me away,\r\nBut my work was completed any way.”\r\n“I could sense the pain, I always had,\r\nBut now I shared it, I was glad”\r\n“I heard them saying, that I caused them dismay,\r\nBut I just made us alike, so we could play”\r\n“I thought, we were equal now, my new friends will obey,\r\nBut I heard them talking, they will send me away”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "SHE SAID I LOVE YOU FIRST"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The best feeling is being madly in love with someone, but still in that stage in the relationship where everything feels new and exciting. Everything you do together is a first and a smile never seems to leave your face.\r\nRosa and I were at that stage. I loved her with all of my heart, but I hadn’t told her so yet. But my heart jumped with joy when she said those three words first. No one had ever said that they loved me first before.\r\nI opened the door, where she sat in the corner of the room reading. I looked at her and smiled. Her beauty really was beyond compare. Although I was happy to see her, my eyes welled up with tears.\r\n“Why are you crying?” She asked.\r\n“Do you love me, Rosa?”\r\nSilence.\r\n20 minutes later, we were in that same room, only I then had a knife resting tightly in my hand. I smiled and cried and shook and waited. “Do you love me, Rosa?”\r\nShe was shaking and stuttering but she said, “I love you, I really love you.” She sobbed and I relaxed and stopped crying. “Thank you, my love, that’s all I needed to hear. I love you too.”\r\nI plunged the knife into her stomach.\r\nFinally one who said it first."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They said that God is gracious. They were wrong"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth”\r\nI think we, the world knew that we had failed in the eyes of God. It soon became apparent to the sinners of this world, to the atheists, the disbelievers, the spreaders of hate, fear and misery, those who renounced him. It was clear that God was real, and more than that, more terrible than could ever have been imagined. Who could have known that the worlds most popular religion, one which had permeated most, if not all societies, was nothing but a cover-up, a facade. There was no all loving God, just a power hungry sadist, whom had to be kept appeased. The New Testament the greatest cover-up in human history, giving the weak minded and those who could not bear the truth something to hide behind. Until that reality was ripped from our hands\r\nIt turns out that the prophets of old were right. The pandemic was only the beginning. The tinder on which the bonfire could be built. Riots and looting swiftly followed, the world at the mercy of bad people with intentions of bad things. To their credit, the people of our Earth tried to be righteous and just and yet were unable to overcome those whom wished evil upon them. When the incantation was found, and God was ‘raised’, all hell broke loose. God did not need raising. The Vatican who had spent 4000 years keeping this God in his slumber - all that work was swiftly undone. The people needed punishing.\r\nOhhh boy did we get it. It turns out that the Vatican, that we as a race were never in control, just mere puppets moved by an invisible hand. The greatest city on Earth fell with in a day, the land of the free enslaved within a month. There was no hope for anyone, in hindsight. The greatest, most powerful governments joined forces, and yet were destroyed without effort. The angels who had been worshipped by the world for so long, foot-soldiers, Jesus and Muhammed, their Commanders, and God the General of an unrelenting Army. Even now us survivors, are being picked off by those demonic beings, as the rains and the tides grow ever so higher. Soon there will be no land left for us to stand. Apparently this has happened before, and I pray it never happens again.\r\nI’m not sure who will receive this, if anyone. Just know, there never was any heaven, just a hell, their angels demons, their God the devil. I pray that those in the future would be able to protect themselves if this calamity ever happens again. I will try to pass on this message, as there is talk of one who will survive. One who will continue our race. One who goes by the name of Noah."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They said they will not move"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I’m walking through the museum at night. I forgot my phone in one of the exhibits. The part I’m sure I lost it in was the stone statue part of it.\r\nThey said they will not move.\r\nThe statues in the exhibit I’m in look incredible, but there are some that scare me. Some of the statues look too real for my comfort. I felt like their eyes followed me everywhere I looked for my phone.\r\nThey said they will not move.\r\nI finally found my phone next to a statue that looked like it was too real. I tried to leave, but I felt something cold grab my shoulder.\r\nAnd now I must not move."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "“Goodbye mommy.” My son said."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“No baby it’s goodnight!” I told him in shock.\r\n“I know.”\r\nHe said as he pulled out a pair of scissors and stabbed me."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I said don’t cry"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I work at a movie theater - a strange one very small, very old - dedicated purely to showing horror movie. Strange, obscure, terrifying movies.\r\nThe owner is an eccentric man who barely shows up and has only one rule: DO NOT CRY DIRING THE MOVIES, not even if you’re sad, or scared or even terrified.\r\nEveryone respected the rules, it was always the same people that came they knew how it worked and enjoyed every show, but one day she came in a new girl. I sold her the ticket and told her do not, under any circumstance cry. She laughed it off and went in.\r\nThe it happened. All the lights went off and I knew everything had to be locked down. I told her and now everything was her fault.\r\nToday I went back in and cleaned up - blood, body parts, gross stuff all around everyone was dead. The I heard her, her chains - she was no longer hungry and asleep so I took her back to her room. You see, she smells tears and it makes her hungry and strong. I did warn them.\r\nI guess now I have to change the sign “0 days since the last incident” - this will really affect our sales."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "You Said A Mouthful"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Today was supposed to be a momentous day for Harry. Every year since he was seven he’d go to this one Oriental restaurant for his birthday, and indulge in its rich, exotic foods (and since he turned twenty-one, its drink as well).\r\nThe cuisine was amazing, but the company was always better. First it was his parents. Then it was his friends. Then, his girlfriend.\r\nThis year, however, only the cuisine would be the highlight of his day. Today, on his twenty-seventh, there was no one.\r\nNot that anyone could’ve blamed them. The last several months had been a downward spiral for him, of death in the family, of fights and breakups and losings. The Harry of his twenty-sixth was dead. In his place was someone dirty and angry and lost.\r\nRegardless, he still found himself gravitating towards the Oriental restaurant today. An excuse to leave his overdue rent and vacuous funds behind him for a night, and try to reap that spark he once knew and loved.\r\nNow there certainly was a warmth spreading through him, though probably thanks to the half bottle of sake he’d just downed. As the waitress came over to take his order, he struggled with his menu. His fingertips felt like butter. Black fog crept around the edges of his vision. But somehow, he managed to focus on an entrée and garble it to her.\r\n“And make it snappy, my jade darling,” he slurred with a chuckle.\r\nHe ignored the glares of his fellow patrons as he slumped in his seat, trying to recall exactly what he had ordered. San-nagasaki? Sa-naja? Ah, whatever.\r\nBy the time the waitress delivered his food (before departing rather briskly), the entire bottle had been drained, and Harry wasted no time spearing a huge gob onto his fork and shoving it into his mouth. He grimaced at the taste, salty and rubbery, screaming with sesame oil. But hey, food was food. Anything to soak up the drink in his gullet.\r\nAt first the sensation was a mere annoyance, like soft gum in the back of his throat. But as he tried to dislodge it with a cough, the thing seemed to expand…and latch on.\r\nHarry pounded at his neck and gagged, staggering to his feet…he could feel them moving and suctioning, hundreds of little suckers trailing into his stomach, up his nose, slithering between his teeth. There was the minute cutting of a beak, and his mouth flooded with the taste of ferrous blood and sesame, which dribbled from his lips in a coagulated mass…\r\nThe lights went out and he fell to the ground, throttling himself, hacking up bits of entrails, writhing in drunken panic, as the thing in his throat was EATING ME, OH GOD ITS EATING ME HELP ME ITS EATING ME –\r\nAnd Harry, age twenty-seven, spasmed and fell still on the linoleum floor.\r\nFrom the crowd of onlookers, the waitress shouted back towards the kitchen: “That’s it – we’re taking san-nakji off the menu.”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Crack your bones, they said.It will be relaxing, they said."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Crack your back, they said.\r\nIt will be soothing, they said.\r\nBut it was the excruciating pain through my vertebrae that made me realize, I twisted too far."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "What the Prophecy said."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The minute Avlon and his party saw the Blade of Bahelon shining brightly in the middle of the cave, they were overwhelmed by a sense of victory. At last, the overly dangerous journey they had undertaken, traversing nightmarish forests and deadly swamps, facing Water-Dragons and malevolent warlocks, had bore fruit. Now they would be able to rid their home Efranis of the till-now invulnerable Darklord Zavien.\r\nThe prophecy had said that once the divine sword was pulled out of the stone, it would draw the Chosen One to itself, the one who is destined to make its power his own, the one who would defeat the Darklord.\r\nQuickly, but cautiously Avlon approached the Blade of Bahelon. In the back of his mind, he knew that the Blade would definitely choose him as its champion. Who else had been able to traverse such difficulties as the ones he faced before entering The Deadly Cave of Bahelon. Infact, if it were not for his quick wit and thinking, most of his party would have already perished. This is why when he pulled the sword out of the stone, and instead of feeling power coursing through him, saw that there was an sudden flash of light infront of him, a figure materialising, he was greatly shocked.\r\nThe intensity of the shock grew when Avlon realised that the figure was no one other than the Darklord Zavien. \"Who dared summon me, into this filthy cave? Is that you, puny mortal?\" He screamed at Avlon, who saw the blade in his hands shining and trying to get away from his grip.\r\n\"No, it is the Sword.\" Avlon thought to himself. After all the prophecy never said the Chosen One and the Darklord had to be two different people."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I thought you said it was a story"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "It all began on a normal (for me anyway) Friday evening, when I was texting some of my best friends on WhatsApp. This one particular guy was texting me, telling me horror stories and I was telling some aswell.\r\nMy story was of a boy playing games on his phone and doing what a normal boy would do on a normal Friday night the day of the holidays. When suddenly, he heard a smash, he thought nothing of it as he had been seeing stray cats around alot and he thought they might of knocked a plant pot over or something along those lines. He then had heard what heard like thick,heavy boots walking quickly along the path that led to his back door.'' Cats can't make those sounds\" he thought. So he looked out of the window in curiosity only to find a hooded figure. Standing, his head tilted to the left,just standing there. Luckily just as he had been paralysed in fear he felt fine again, but the man was still there just standing with his head tilted to the left, but this time his hand was in his back pocket,reaching for something. His large hand eventually pulled out a long metal pole.\r\nHowever just as he had recovered from his paralysis, he remembered that his neighbours had to very dangerous German Shepard that were being trained for the police force. The boy had been teaching the Shepards tricks( such as how to flip and how to respond to a whistle) so out of pure fearness the boy whistle a specific tune that he had tought the dogs. He knew they had heard the whistle because of the deafening barks of the dogs becoming increasingly closer to the man with the pipe. Before the dogs could get to him the man had legged it way down the street and out of the block\r\nReturning back to the texts his friend really enjoyed the short horror story that he has told. However, he had told her it was a story and there was nothing to worry about. That was all well and good until the very distinct sound of the thick boots were heard walking down the path to his garden. His friend thought he was playing tricks on him until he showed a picture of the disturbing hooded figure.\r\nThat was standing there with his head tilted an his hand reaching for something In his back pocket. However, as much as this sounded like the exact story he was telling, his neighbours didn't have any dogs that were in police force training at all. In fact they didnt have any pets.\r\nAs he was updating his friend on what was happening, his friend became more and more scared for his wellbeing and if he was going to be alright. Once again the very distinct sound of the boots came closer to his back door the boy felt his heart skip a few beats as a metal pole went straight threw his window.\r\n\"I thought you said it was a story"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Daddy said to call 911."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Check the garage for stuff while I call...\r\nHello\r\n........ Hello\r\n911, daddy said to call you if I needed help.\r\n.......\r\nHello\r\nHello ... this is 911, how can I help you?\r\nSomebody is in my house, please send police. They are big and scary and have guns *sobs*\r\nCalm down. How old are you?\r\nThey are wearing masks. *sniffles*\r\nHow old are you?\r\nFive. I am scared *sobs*\r\nNo need to be scared, we will protect you.\r\nThank You. *sobs*\r\nSon, where are you?\r\nPlease send police. Please send my father.\r\nYour father is in police?\r\nYes.\r\nShit.\r\nSwearing is bad.\r\nYeah, yeah, don’t swear! Where are you?\r\nThere was a tall guy, a short guy and a fat guy. Fat guy was ordering them.\r\nI didn’t ask ... Hey! Don’t call people fat.\r\nSorry Sir. Mom was making me dinner and watching her serial *sobs* and I was sitting on the sofa playing on her phone...\r\nThat’s fine but where are you?\r\n...and then I heard this loud noise from the hall. It sounded like when mommy dropped the glass bottle *A long breath*.\r\n*groans* Son, are you even listening to me?\r\nI was going to check but mom come in with daddy’s gun and told me not to move. *sobs*\r\n*Sighs* Okay but where are you hiding?\r\nI heard her screaming and hid behind the sofa.\r\nWhere are you now?\r\n*rants* Somebody was dragging my mom and she had blood on her face and her neck. *sobs*\r\nFuck, listen to me where are you hiding?\r\nYou shouldn’t swear.\r\nI am sorry kid. Where are you hiding?\r\nI was going to call you from down, but the fat man was standing near it, so I went for the phone upstairs.\r\nDon’t call people fat.\r\nSorry sir.\r\nIts fine. Are you upstairs?\r\nMom calls it extension *sobs*. Sometimes when we both want to talk to Daddy; she talks from this phone and I talk from the phone below. *sobs*\r\n*groans* Stop ranting kid.\r\nSometimes she would talk on this phone and I would listen on the hall phone and she would *cries loudly* make animal noises for me. *sobs*\r\nCute.\r\nIs mommy going to be okay? *sobs*\r\nDon’t worry she will be fine.\r\nAre you sure? *sobs*\r\nI am sure. Now tell me where are you hiding?\r\nI ran upstairs.\r\nYou are upstairs? Stay there.\r\nSir, I can hear noises downstairs. I am scared *sobs*. They might be coming. *sobs* Please help me. *sobs*\r\nTo send the police I need to know exactly where you are.\r\nThere is a forest and a river behind the house *sobs* and a tall building with a fan which moves very slowly. Mom calls it a windmild. *sobs*\r\nNo, I meant where inside the house?\r\nOh, I am hiding in my parent’s bedroom’s cupboard.\r\nOkay. Don’t worry, we are coming to get you.\r\n*From far away* Idiots, there is a child in the house. Parent’s bedroom. Inside the Cupboard.\r\n*Click*"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Mama Said"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "A sweet was offered with a trusting hand, and a lick was given with affection. These were the beginnings of a transaction — an insidious one all wrapped up with kindness.\r\nMama used to say that it’s impossible to respect yourself until you grow teeth. Chew those bones and make them sharp, she said, they’ll help you out one day.\r\nBut those sharp incisors haven’t helped him upto now. Why? Because with those sweets, trust was gained and doubt disappeared.\r\nAll it took was a leash and a tincture of cruel intent, and he was packed like a sardine into a cage with the rest.\r\nWhere is your Mama now, you may ask. And I will whimper — probably sitting in someone’s belly right now. You see, she made the same mistake I did: She trusted too.\r\nWe are en route.\r\nNow we are here.\r\nHere — where a knife glints in the sunlight and shows a grin — cruelty is all they know.\r\nHere is a place called Yulin."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"Occupy a life, it's not addictive\", they said. \"Don't worry, it's not a gateway to divinity\" So... hi everyone, I am Bobochiț and I am alive"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Now let me tell you my story. As all of us, I used to be the usual mineral, waiting in peace, inert and petrified, for my protons to spontaneously disintegrate sometime at the end of all ends. No big deal: born from a middle class supernova, bonded in space during my early billies and ended up a decent boulder in the comfort and security of a regular outskirts of a dozen ly wide dust cloud. Ya know how it is.\r\nTill one day. It had been a dark stormy black hole and I was basking in the heat of a gamma ray burst when suddenly there came the light. Well, not quite unexpectedly, as in fact there was a warning, right before dawn: I got a call, and a calm but commanding voice told me \"Let there be light\" and hung up. I called back, heard something like a giggle and a hang-up. I called again, nothing. I keep calling from time to time but it seems that the number has been restricted since.\r\nWell, the rest is anyone's story. The light was good, it firstly lured me into some damned Goldilocks territory - you all know how it is - and soon I found myself hooked on molecules. Fast forward a couple of billies, I was already suffering from chronic complexity. Then, the photosynthesis stroke. All the shit became real when I got sensible and the downward spiral finally led me to science, art, sex, religion, philosophy and the rest of the ordeals that use to haunt a former mineral in the final stages of the evolution of... life, pardon my French.\r\nWhy am I whining now? It's too late, I know. But I've got a phone call today. It was that calm voice again, but not commanding anymore: \"Hey man, I just want you to know it wasn't on purpose. The call about the impending light was a just a prank gone bad. In fact, the light had been already invading everything. It was the gang from Era of Recombination, man, not I. Sorry for all the pain... For all the pain that you have endured and will forever endure.\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They Said Often Thoughts Have No Meaning..."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Kill your wife...\"\r\n\"Kill your wife!\"\r\n\"KILL YOUR WIFE!\"\r\nThe incessant nagging rattled my brain, causing my heart to race. How could I kill my wife? The only woman to ever give a damn about me?\r\n\"You could strangle your dog.\"\r\n\"You could cut apart your mother.\"\r\n\"You should kill your wife.\"\r\nMonths ago, I had brought these concerns to her. Despite claiming to have absolute faith in me, we have gone through multiple psychiatrists. Those of a more Freudian outlook easily becoming terrified of me.\r\nThe most recent one tells me how dark thoughts often mean nothing. How every sane person considers killing someone many times in their lives and how my worry for it brings the thought's return.\r\n\"You should break his neck.\"\r\n\"You can kill him now.\"\r\nHe asked my wife to attend to our most recent meeting. Handing me a pocket knife, he had me hold it against her neck. I assume it was to be as proof that the action could never be preformed.\r\n\"No witnesses.\"\r\n\"The cops will find you.\"\r\nI couldn't kill her. Thank God I couldn't. I cried as she drove me home, relieved of finally being cured.\r\n\"Kill your wife.\"\r\n\"There are no more witnesses.\"\r\n\"Wait until dark.\"\r\nThey prattled once more as we got home.\r\n\"You should stab her in the eye.\"\r\n\"You should suffocate her in the sheets.\"\r\nOften thoughts...\r\n\"You should drown her in the bath!\"\r\n\"You should break her fragile neck!\"\r\nHave no meaning...\r\n\"YOU SHOULD THROW HER OFF THE ROOF!\"\r\n\"YOU SHOULD BITE HER IN THE NECK!\"\r\nBut these thoughts only get louder.\r\n\"MURDERER!\"\r\n\"THIEF!\"\r\n\"LIAR!\"\r\n\"SINNER!\"\r\n...\r\nI needed it to stop.\r\nI shoved a towel down her throat.\r\nI gouged her eyes out.\r\nI broke every limb at every joint.\r\nI clawed at her abdomen until the screaming stopped.\r\nOften thoughts... have no meaning...\r\n\"You have to run again.\"\r\nBut that last thought is the only meaningless one I have had in a long time."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Dad Said To Always Keep Your Promise"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My dad told me that all men kept their promises, and that I should too. I was no more than 4 when he first told me this, and he never stopped telling me.\r\nEvery year he'd tell me that, in the solid, dependable voice he has \"All men keep their promises\" and I always have.\r\nSometimes I think, I shouldn't always do, I've always had the thought of being able to break free from any responsibility, even if I swore to it. I thought of\r\nmany reasons to get out of a promise after I've made them. But I never did. I always kept my promise. From grade school to college to work, if I said I'd do it\r\nI'd always do it.\r\nSometimes, I wish I had a choice to break my promises, it's almost an impulse nowadays, I can't help but follow through with my promises, as if it was just\r\nsecond nature.\r\nAnd when I said \"I promise I would do anything\" to that thing, I wish I could break free.\r\nSometimes, I say under my breath \"I'm breaking my promise\", I say it right now, as I pull the trigger for the fourth time this week, for the fourth body to give.\r\nI always have to keep my promise."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"That's what he said\""
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My daughter and I was having a father-daughter bonding but she kept on laughing at me. I asked her why she always laughs when she looks at me, \"That's what he said\" she answered. \"Huh? Who's saying what?\" I asked her. She laughed \"That's what he said as well\" she paused for a second. \"That's what my father said to me before he died\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"If you are good you go to heaven, if you are bad you go to hell\" The priest said to me"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"No, no no no...\" I replied, \"you have it all wrong. Heaven is actually rather small and there isn't a lot of space, some people are guaranteed spots, like yourself while others, like me, have to do things to earn them.\"\r\nThe priests brow furrowed in confusion.\r\n\"E-earn them?\"\r\n\"Yes earn them. They can't make more heaven so the only possible option is to clear up the list, until I get a spot. You my friend are the only person near here that has a spot, so logically~\" I said, before drawing the knife I kept in my pocket and ending the priests life. I was now guaranteed a spot in heaven, but the only issue with that is when your place is assured you grow complacent, forgetting that to others; your spot looks very interesting to them, so keep your wits about you, or you won't see the knife until it's too late..."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My mother said don't answer the phone"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The telephone rang and rang. My sister and I just sat and let it, as our mother prepared dinner. I can't remember how long we'd been down in the basement, it had been a long time since I saw daylight. The phone rang off.\r\n\"Food will be ready in five minutes, go brush your teeth,\" she said.\r\nWe put down our toys and made our way to the bucket on the opposite side of the room. I waited for my sister to finish before taking the toothbrush off her and using it myself.\r\nWe ate meatballs and peas, as our mother ate dried pasta. Each crunch laboured as she did her best to eat the out of date food. She smiled, watching her growing children eat.\r\n\"Eat up, you'll need to be strong and healthy when your mother is not here anymore.\"\r\n\"Don't say that mum,\" I said, offering her some of my food.\r\nShe shook her head and bit down on another piece of stale pasta. As we finished the food, she picked up the phone and dialed a number.\r\n\"What do you mean? We cannot wait that long. Please, I have children,\" she said down the receiver.\r\nShe slammed it down.\r\n\"Is everything okay?\" I asked.\r\n\"Everything is fine, just finish your food.\"\r\nOur mother passed away the following week.\r\nThe phone rang, my sister held me, scared.\r\n\"It's going to be okay,\" I said.\r\nI had put our mother's body into the far corner of the room. The cool concrete of the basement floor slowed the decomposition.\r\nThe phone went silent.\r\nWith the food was running low, I picked up the phone and pressed re-dial to speak with the people my mother had.\r\nI waited for the phone to connect, before being met with a number not recognised message.\r\nI looked over at my sister, who played with her dolls just feet from our dead mother.\r\nI was awoken by the shrill ring of the telephone.\r\nI got up and made my way over. My sister pleaded with me to stay in bed, to heed our mother's warning.\r\n\"We need to eat, Sister,\" I soothed.\r\nWe hadn't eaten in days. I picked up the handset.\r\n\"Hello?\" I said to the static on the line.\r\nI couldn't make out what the man said, except his foreign tongue sounded excited. Within minutes the door to our basement was broken. Men with guns and armour rushed down to us.\r\n\"You're safe now,\" the leader of the group said to me in an accent that wasn't native to him and I hoped I hadn't made a big mistake."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Person stalking me after visiting website and attempting to contact said person"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Not sure if this post belongs here but here it goes. A few weeks ago I found out abut this website, which had the most strangest pages I've seen in a while. It linked to other even stranger websites. Most of what I saw were flashing images and random text that look like a schizophrenic wrote it, accompanied by disorienting music and \"research documents\". I wanted to get in contact with who made this, so I e-mailed that person and when they replied, the reply consisted of all my information. First name, last name, address, exact GPS location, Hell, they even know my families names. I immediately started to think that I was in danger. I didn't reply to the e-mail\r\nthough, in fear of making things worse. The next day when I woke up someone knocked on my door. I got up and answered and saw a person in a black suit telling me about something neuron related. I couldn't quite make it out but it was something like \"extracting your neuron imagery\". He just stood there and wouldn't stop talking. I tried to interrupt him but all he did was stand there and say nonsense. He's been standing there for 4 hours babbling about incoherent nonsense. I had to call the police and they got him out of my doorstep. He wasn't arrested or anything. And I forgot to tell the police about that DOX/info thing. The next day I was walking down to pick up groceries and I saw another person, or probably the same person (he had the same clothes as the first one), looking at me behind a car window next to the grocery parking lot. I quickly ran home and saw words override my vision. One word I could make out was \"out\" and I fainted shortly after. I woke up at a hospital. The nurses told me that someone called 911 after I fainted while running through the streets. I asked them if they saw anyone in a black suit and they answered with \"No\".\r\nHow could they not see them? Did they run away? Or am I just going insane?\r\nIf anyone's interested, here's the website: http://synt.us"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "She only said one word"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "When she was 1 1/2 years old she began to speak; her first word was “Doe.” Her only word was “Doe”.\r\nYou may think it was an adorable example of baby-talk, except that she uttered it in such a pitiable, lost cry, and in such abject fear and anguish that we grew concerned. Tests and evaluations followed - doctors, interviews with therapists and linguists in the city, all to no avail.\r\nWe even tried a priest. Nothing. All he could do was wave his crucifixes and babble on in Latin.\r\nDoe! She cried in immense sadness, pointing at the ceiling, out the window into the dark of night, the rolling heather outside.\r\nDoe she said, tears running down her plump cheeks, pointing to the root cellar door, the old woodshed out back. Holding her,\r\nrocking her – all did nothing. We ourselves grew weary, combative, tense with each other. I became a shrew, he a man with a quick fist. We became ugly versions of what we once were. More than one time I stopped his fist within a hair’s breadth of pummeling our poor, shrieking Emmaline.\r\nDoe? she said, seeking something she could not find, the upward lilt at the end unmistakable, even for a child.\r\nOnly one word ever. Until that night. Then no more.\r\nThe storm lashed at our cottage that night, far out on the moors. We were battered about like a boat on the high seas, water seeping under the door, driven by the relentless wind. Water running around the casement and down the fireplace, extinguishing our fire in a hissing mass of steam.\r\nOne thunderous knock on the door, and then it crashed open, so hard one of the hinges broke in half. A massive figure stood on the lintel, blocking the entire doorway. He was clad in oilskins and an immense hat, carrying a flat leather currach.\r\nI remember cowering by the hearth, my hand on Emmaline’s fluttering heart as she sat up in her bassinet at the sudden noise.\r\nHe lifted his arm and pointed at me.\r\n“You’ll not be harmed” he said, his voice filling the room as he had filled the doorway.\r\n“I’m here for the girl.”\r\nI looked at Emmaline, expecting horror, fear. She instead smiled.\r\nHe set the currach down, unfolded the small blanket within it and took one step into the cottage.\r\n“I am Doe.”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My Mama Said..."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My mama said my friends are troublesome.\r\nThe twins, Aleksi and Venla, are my only friends in the village. We play pranks on each other sometimes but they’re not bad kids. Aleksi is strong and tall, but maybe a little overweight. Venla is the picture of Finnish beauty, and has been the object of my affection for some time. Maybe someday I’ll have the courage to ask her out. Maybe.\r\nMy mama said we should be careful in the forest.\r\nOur village is on the edge of a forest and we head out there every day after school, and at the weekends too. We are careful most of the time, but when Aleksi challenged me to see who could climb higher; I wasn’t going to back down while Venla was watching. I would have won too, had I not fallen and broken my arm. Venla visited me in the hospital. She jokingly complemented me on my climbing skills and I fell even more in love with her.\r\nMy mama said I shouldn’t go to see them at the hospital.\r\nThe fire had torn through the Hämäläinen household while my friends slept and we were lucky that it hadn’t spread to anyone else’s home. The hospital visit was upsetting, yes, but I wanted to see how they were. My heart broke when I saw Venla so badly hurt. Aleksi wasn’t any better, either. The doctors told me not to worry; they would take care of my friends.\r\nMy mama said their parents will get what they deserve.\r\nThe police are looking Mr and Mrs Hämäläinen; seems they started the fire intentionally. I can’t believe that they would have. I miss Aleksi and Venla and wish I could go see them, but I have no means of getting to them since Mama refuses to take me to the hospital anymore.\r\nMy mama said I shouldn’t be going into the forest alone.\r\nI wanted to take a walk into the forest to visit the places we used to hang out. I know there are wolves and bears in the area but they don’t often come close to the village. As I passed the old church, I bumped into Aleksi. I was astonished; I didn’t know he was out of the hospital. He and Venla had been waiting for me, he said. They knew their parents were hiding in a shack in the forest. Venla asked me to burn the shack and kill them for her. She kissed me softly on the lips and my knees went weak.\r\nMy mama said that good people don’t do bad things.\r\nIt’s been a week since I said I’d sleep on their proposition, but the release of dreams eludes me. Every night I see their faces at my bedroom window and hear their hushed voices willing me to kill.\r\nMy mama said I need to make new friends.\r\nShe’s right; I really don’t like the twins since they died."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They said..."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I didn’t hear a single sound of despair when the judge announced that due to my “unique” situation, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.\r\nI looked at my lawyer who smiled at me, tears of joy running down his face. The prosecutor looked pleased with the results too.\r\nI cautiously looked behind my back to see the expressions on “my” victims’ families’ faces who were at my trial everyday for the last year and a half. They were all smiling, some dropped to their knees thanking God, while others were hugging each other, celebrating the fact that my life would not be cut short nor would I spend the rest of my life in a mental institution.\r\nOne woman even grabbed my shoulder, gently pulling me towards her and kissed my cheek.\r\n“It’s not your fault,” she told me.\r\nI smiled meekly at her and nodded towards the holy religious people who were there too.\r\nIt’s all because of those God-fearing members of the church that I was now free as a bird.\r\nThe authorities told me that my basement was filled with the bodies of at least fifty-five people who had been reported missing.\r\nThe shrinks, at the mental ward the authorities sent me to, claimed that since I couldn’t remember what I did, I may be suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder or as it’s more commonly referred to as Multiple Personality Disorder. They also told me that during my stay at the mental ward, I viciously attacked the doctors, the nurses and the other patients. Basically anybody I could get my hands on.\r\nThey said that one night when I was in my straight-jacket, locked away from everybody else, I started speaking a language nobody could understand and I wouldn’t stop.\r\nThey said I was possessed and through the strength of God and his holy worshippers, the demon that was possessing me left. They said it was a long exorcism, but the holy men drove the demon out of me.\r\nThe courts laughed and the families were understandably enraged at first when they heard that it wasn’t me that killed their loved ones, but a bloodthirsty demon. But with the holy men on my side, along with most of the shrinks who had to admit the level of violence I was portraying was beyond inhumane, everybody from those families to a majority of the court officials started to believe I couldn’t have killed those people.\r\nThe video tapes of me freaking out and tearing at my own face helped convince them.\r\nAs for me, I still can’t believe everything that happened. I really didn’t know...I would get off this easily! I was really just going for an insanity plea with all that nonsensical gibberish I was spewing.\r\nReligion? Demons? Please! But I should be careful. The holy men said to be cautious. Demons have a nasty habit of returning to their “victims.”\r\nI’m gonna gamble my “demon” is gonna be “possessing” me again real soon."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They Said"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "They say that to be a good friend you need to be familiar with them. Find things you both like and dislike. They also say that you need to be talking to them frequently, get to know them. They say it is also best if you act like yourself when you're with them. They told me to take my time too; not to rush things so we can be happy with each other. And now I think it is time I make peace with the monsters in my head."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They Said We Could Trust Them"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "They said they came in peace—that they were here to help us return to a civilized society, that they had answers to our questions, solutions to our problems, help for our hurting.\r\nWe believed them.\r\nI can’t remember a time when I couldn’t see the large, flat, steel disks overhead hovering over Earth, watching humanity’s every move. I was born after they arrived.\r\nMaybe they’ve always been here.\r\nThey slipped in without us knowing years before their ships appeared in the sky over every continent. Our leadership structure here on Earth had been breached, something like 70 years before first contact was made known. We had no idea they had lived among us all that time, feeding us war and crisis.\r\nOur lands were in disarray. Civil unrest had taken hold, our people divided by something more sinister than race, religion or politics. Hatred had consumed us, causing us to devour each other without fear. The poor grew poorer. The wealthy grew more affluent, thirsting for power and control, feeding their lust for greed. We had grown sick and weak, many morbidly obese, unable to properly care for ourselves due to the poor quality of food. Terrorism reached an all-time high, and even women and children were targets to be murdered in the streets. STDs were at record highs, along with every other known disease. Science could no longer name the new strains of deadly viruses springing up daily due to rapid virus mutation.\r\nThe media had a field day, swarming to every act of depraved violence, reporting 24 hours a day until we had all become desensitized, no longer broken or appalled by our acts of barbarianism.\r\nAnd it was all according to their plan.\r\nThey stepped in during the brink of our destruction, ready to come to our aid in the name of peace and friendship. Soon we gave them control of our governments. It started in what was then known as “the land of E Pluribus Unum” and spread like a cancer from the Lower 48 to her northern and southern neighbors. Tyranny spread to Europe from there and then the world.\r\nThey told us we could no longer be trusted with our own security—that they must rule us. Some resisted, but it was too late. Their slimy tentacles had been knit and woven into everything we held dear, and we were powerless to defend ourselves against them. Some tried, and they failed.\r\nThose with IQs higher than 105 were rounded up and executed. The intelligent were a threat, so they were destroyed, their fat harvested from their corpses in order to power our enemy’s technology. Our elderly were harvested as well. No one was permitted to live past 55.\r\nFew of us remain, now 75 years after their initial takeover. We huddle in the shadows of what was once our planet, teaching our children never to forget the date of our captivity, the date the enemy’s plan bore fruit…\r\nNovember 8, 2016."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Whom ever said I needed love, anyways? (February 2016)"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I remember him, with his golden locks of hair and his clichè chiseled jaw. What I don't remember, however, is him saying \"I love you\". Weird, right?\r\nSee, I told him that I loved him every day of our relationship, and the response was always a smile and kiss on the forehead. It didn't bother me at the moment, because I was blind, deaf and mute with adoration for him. We went to nice dinners, saw sappy romance movies, had nights in with pizza and wine, heck, he even took me to a basketball game to see our favourite team.\r\nThen there was that night.\r\nI came home early one night from work so that I could make him a nice Valentine's Day dinner at home, which I would give him an equally special 'desert'. Walked down the hallway to our room and stopped outside the door. There was a muffled noise, then I heard his voice saying \"I love you\". I opened the door and boom, there she was. Lying next to my husband, in my bed, under my blankets. I recognized her as my co-worker who was supposed to be out sick with the flu for that week. Both of their reactions when they saw me were priceless. She screamed and he had a look of utter disbelief on his face. She tried to get her stuff and leave, but I wouldn't let her.\r\nFast forward five minutes, we're all in the living room. Him on the couch, her standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, me pacing around with an exacto knife. She looks scared, but she should be, because I am ready to kill them both. I keep hearing his words replay in my ears. \"I love you\" \"I love you\" \"I love you\". God please. Shut. Up. I became so annoyed and angry that I turned to her, pinned her, and slit her throat. I think her last words were \"gurgle gurgle\" but that could mean many things. I look at him once before walking calmly over to him and kissing his lips one last time as I begin to stab his chest in the area where his heart was. I then cut an X into his chest, still right over the heart. Who said I needed love, anyway?"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They said I couldn't do it!"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Nobody ever had the belief in me like she did.\r\nThey all told me I was stupid and insignificant and had no right to try but she built me up again after my hopes were dashed.\r\nI always wanted to open my own little book shop in town but they shot me down again and again and I believed them.\r\nShe would be there for me night and day, whenever and wherever I was I could always count on her.\r\nI showed them I could do it, I ended their dreams like they tried to end mine. They are dead now, I cut them to bits and have eaten the heart of all of them, I have their skulls around my fire place.\r\nI am so glad I listened to mother, I miss her every day and have done for the last 6 years... she said I could do it... she is always right."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "...But You Said They Weren't Real."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "California Dreamin' resonated in the background, \"...Well, I got down on my knees, and I pretend to pray...\" just before his mother reached over and turned off the radio neatly placed on the boy's nightstand.\r\n\"If you really want to hear the story, I'll tell you. But don't come crying to me in the middle of the night,\" she spoke as she stroked the back of his hair.\r\n\"When you were born, you had your own bed room, and believe me! It was a beautiful bedroom. You had a little blue crib and a big ol' Stuffed Snoopy.\" The boy stared sarcastically at his kindhearted mother. \"Oh, but enough of that.\"\r\nThe boy smiled at his mother to let her know he hadn't taken any offense to her tender comment and she turned a tender smile towards her son and covered him with his blanket, \"Well, one night, I was listening to a little bit of music on the cassette player when I thought I heard a rattling outside. So I took off my headphones and walked over to the door to take a peak outside. Normally I would have asked your father, but you know how he gets. I walked out to find your baby rattle just a few feet away from me and as I stared out into your little treasure box full of toys down the hall, all I could see were some of your toys being thrown out of the chest as if someone were looking for something. Before I had the chance to react, a skinny little creature crawled over the rim and began to look at me with it's beady little eyes, tilting it's head in wonder. Skin dragging through the floor as he started moving towards me...\" She paused. Catching her breath. As if. The writer himself. had perhaps. experienced it. And the chicken pox on her skin became more and more noticeable as the hair stood across the back of her neck.\r\n\"He dragged his skin across the wooden floors and ran towards me. I panicked and awoke from my shock and ran back into the bedroom.\r\n\"Where was I mom?\" The little boy asked bewildered.\r\n\"You were in your room...right in your baby blue crib. But don't worry baby, whatever I saw...you have to understand, wasn't real.\" A blank stare in her eyes oscillated as she kissed the boy goodnight and tucked him in.\r\n\"All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray...\" California Dreamin' woke the boy in the middle of the night.\r\nOr maybe it was the skinny hands of a smiling creature caressing his forearm who muttered with a hot whisper in the boy's ear...\"We were always real.\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "When All is Said and Done"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "In a place where nothing has ever been, it lingers.\r\nEven if it tried there would be nothing for it to see, yet it looks around for a moment anyway\r\nIt hesitates, then reaches down. It makes a motion but touches nothing. Just what it was hoping for; a guaranteed nothingness.\r\nIt’s been so, so long.\r\nIt remembers every single one it took away. Not a lot of them wanted to go. But it was nobody’s choice, really.\r\nIt is not sure how to feel at this point. Had it always longed for this moment? Did it ever even consider it would come to this? Was it even possible?\r\nAfter a moment it dismissively casts aside the list. This is the first time it has ever parted with it. It will not be needing it any longer.\r\nIt is time.\r\nIt recedes, casting away all control of its metaphysical form. It is now nothing but a sentient force scattered amongst the nothingness.\r\nIts vision begins to fade. It barely notices the difference.\r\nIt can feel its consciousness begin to disperse as well.\r\nIt is finally flooded with an immense relief.\r\nAnd as the last crumbs of consciousness escape the nothingness, its heart is taken back to the very first soul it was assigned to take."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Good Thing She Said Yes"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I just can’t believe she said yes. I mean I knew she would, but I still can’t believe it. I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered what I had done to deserve such a pretty dame. Oh man, the guys would be so jealous!\r\nI caught a glimpse of my eyes. She always went on and on about my eyes, said they looked like they held the universe within them. The closer I looked, the more abundant the flecks of gold appeared under the blue, like tiny stars. Huh, I guess I could see what she meant. I’d never really noticed, as I’d never spent much time staring into my own eyes.\r\nI had popped the question the previous night; followed all the steps to the letter, from a restaurant far out of my bank account’s comfort zone to taking her to the exact same lookout point I had asked her to be my girlfriend. It was perfect, and apparently she thought so too, or she wouldn’t have said, “YES!”\r\nAsking her to be my girlfriend wasn’t really that hard as we had been friends since the day she moved to town, age twelve. Though her parents rarely let her leave the house, (definite over-protective crazies), we hung out at school and even got to work at the same company after graduation. That’s how we became closest.\r\nWhen I brought her home to meet the folks, my mother was in tears. She just couldn’t believe that I had found such an amazing girl, and one that reminded her so much of –\r\nI shouldn’t even mention it, or my mother would have a breakdown.\r\nSee, when I was a kid, three or four, young enough to have several holes in my memory, I had a sister. My mother refuses to discuss with me what happened exactly, but from what I’ve gathered, she was here one day and gone the next. Vanished. I know what you’re thinking: What the hell kind of family wouldn’t discuss the disappearance of my sister with me? I think it’s just too painful for them to talk about their child’s disappearance. But that’s a story for another time.\r\nTraditionally, the night before your wedding, you’re supposed to spend the night away from your fiancé, but we were just too excited. I snuck out of my buddy’s apartment to meet her at her place. I promised myself that I wouldn’t stay too long because I knew she still wanted to keep some wedding day magic alive. We lay in her bed, cuddling, talking, and laughing. We found ourselves lying on our sides, just breathing each other in, when I caught a glimpse of her eyes. Oh man, those eyes were one of the first things I loved about her. They were like a sea of blue with tiny little goldfish swimming across them.\r\nWait.\r\nI’d never noticed before, but they were the same eyes I had been staring at in the mirror."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I Said Bless You"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The woman was contorting on the ground, her hands digging into her scalp, her voice straining in a low groan. She'd sneezed just moments before and I, purely on impulse, said \"Bless you.\"\r\nHer eyes opened, locking on mine. Blood seemed to be flowing from them like tears, and her irises seemed to glow a faint pink or red. I felt sick, and then I felt angry, and then I was... Disoriented.\r\nI was now laying on the ground, staring at a young man with red eyes. I felt a variety of things- it took a long moment to realize I had somehow become that woman... As my body walked away, I started to forget who I was, my memories being replaced... I wiped the reddish liquid from my face, got up, and walked away.\r\nHe said bless you, that's all I can recall about him..."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "He should've said yes (disney challenge)"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "He rejected her amorous advances and made it clear that he wasn't interested in her as a woman. She felt used ,led on and worst of all she felt scorned. He should've known better . He should've known that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. She looked him in the eye defiantly and laughed. Her laugh had little to no sound . But it left a daunting effect on him. Her composure intact,although she regretted not having a voice to defend herself.\r\nWhen she arrived at the gated-entrance of his bedroom later that night, the guards were fast asleep. She knew her sisters still got her back. Soon she was standing over the prince's head ,a tinted catharus in her hand. She took a moment to survey his face for one last time. If he was half the man she thought he was she would have gladly shared her immortality with him. Her thought was interrupted by his sudden awakening. She quickly plunged the knife in his chest. Blood spurted in the room like a geyser. He was still conscious when she dragged him across the room to the balcony overlooking the sea. She hauled his debilitated body over the row of balusters and dropped him to the hungry waves. At that very moment,three fish-tailed maidens rose up out of the water and waved smilingly at her."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Because I Said So and I'm the Mommy"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Rachel! CARLY!! Y'all get back here right now! We still got chores to do before sundown!\" Lila Matthews made a grab at little Rachel's arm, but the heavy basket of laundry she was carrying made her slower than usual, and the two young girls dashed away, giggling.\r\nLila sighed tiredly. There was still supper to start, the woodbox to be filled, and the hens to be cooped up for the night. The kids were all just running rampant, not helping at all, and the sun was already swinging low in the west...\"Cara! You and Jayden go coop up those hens! I need some help here! It's almost sundown....\"\r\n\"Aw, do we hafta? How come?\"\r\n\"Because I said so and I'm the mommy, dammit,\" Lila shot back. \"Now come on, it's--\"\r\n\"Yeah, almost sundown. We know.....jeez, I wish....\" Jayden began.\r\n\"You wish what? That things were back the way they were? Before this....this plague, or whatever hit? Me too, asshole, me too. You think I like taking care of you mess of ungrateful brats?\" Lila was exhausted, and stressed, and glad her day of being in charge was almost over.\r\n\"N-no. I j-just wish my Mom was still here. Or m-my Dad....\" Jayden sniffed back some tears, and a good deal of snot, making Lila cringe. God, how would she ever have dealt with having kids of her own?\r\nNo worries about that, though, not the way things were now....with every adult she knew dead, or transformed into those horrible things, the things that came out after dark, and snuffled and shuffled around, looking for....food? Their families? Whatever it was, it was better to stay locked safely inside at night, and not let the the kids--seventeen of them in all, from different families in the County--see what their parents had changed into. She took a deep breath.\r\n\"Well, I miss my parents, too, Jayden. I'm sorry I don't make the best mom. Tomorrow is LeeAnne's turn to be in charge; she's better at it than I am. Now help round everybody up and let's get inside before dark.....\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They Said They Were Missionaries....(What Gods Will Be Next? OOC Challenge)"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "They were missionaries, they said.\r\nThey'd come in peace to our planet, to bring us news of a god, who loves us and wants us to worship him.\r\n\"Worship?\" we asked. \"What is worship? And what is a god?\"\r\nGod is a supreme being, they said. He created this planet, and our home planet, Earth, and the whole universe....and we should revere him, adore him, obey him, as Earthlings do.\r\n\"Where is the god?\", we asked. \"We have never seen a god, though other missionaries have come here. And the god did not create everything. Everything has always been here.\"\r\nNo, all the universe was created by God, they said. God is all-powerful, all-knowing, and we should worship him.\r\n\"We don't understand worship, but we will show you our mountains. They are all-powerful, and we bow down to them, and give them gifts.....\"\r\nThat is worship, they said. Show us the mountains, and then we will tell you how God is supreme, even over the mountains.\r\nWe took them to the foot of our mountains, as we have always done with those who tried to make us change our ways. \"There is nothing so vast and forbidding in our world as the mountains,\" we said. \"When your God shows himself, we can compare the two....\"\r\nThey assured us God was already there, all around. We left them, then watched from a distance, and saw the mountains move, slide, surround the missionaries, and swallow them. We heard their screaming as the mountains crushed and devoured our gift.\r\nWe still don't understand this God...but we have always known that missionaries make excellent sacrifices."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Just a dream, they said"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "What I'm going to tell you is not fiction. It's not imagination. It's just a dream I had. And perhaps, somewhere, that dream will scare you. Maybe you won't know why, and maybe you'll know exactly why.\r\nAs I'm sitting in my mother's living room with her and my sister, all cozy in my pajamas sipping my morning coffee, suddenly it hits me. The feeling of utter helplessness, of pain and fear. One you never want to feel. Where is my 2 year old daughter? Holy shit, is she still in the car? Did she spend the whole evening and night alone, wondering where I was, screaming with no one to hear? Was I THAT parent that didn't deserve their child?\r\nI get up and start running. Blindly, through the kitchen, through the garage, outside to the driveway, my mother and sister in tow who don't even seem to know why I'm freaking out. Have they lost their minds?\r\nAs I approach my car, something is strange. I see two silhouettes in the back window, something that shouldn't be there. As I get closer, suddenly, I see what they are: little boys, their eyes empty, dead. They're just... there, stuck to the window like they've been glued to it. And between them, I glimpse at my daughter. I thought I expected the worse. I was wrong. She's screaming and flailing her arms as if possessed, and I feel my heart beating out of my chest. I couldn't get any worse than this, could it?\r\nIt could. Suddenly, my daughter's head snapped towards me, her eyes looking deep into my soul. Anger? No. Pure rage and hate directed straight at me. And then, as if she had been free all along, she moves out of her seat. In a fraction of a second, almost too fast for her eyes to see, her face is in the window between the two dead boys, looking at me with those evil red eyes.\r\nI don't know how long I screamed in the dream. I don't know how long I screamed after I woke up. All I know is, I don't know if I'll ever really stop screaming..."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I had said that “Don’t scare me.”"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I don’t like to be scared, and I have told Emily many times.\r\n“Don’t scare me.”\r\nI love her above all the girls I ever saw.\r\nNevertheless, she is still a naughty girl.\r\nWhen I focused on something,\r\nshe always played a trick on me accidently.\r\n“Dear Tim, only living person is able to be scared, isn’t it?”\r\nShe said.\r\nI had told her many times about that story in my childhood.\r\nThat story is that I was extremely sad for my cat’s head got cut off.\r\nShe always tells me that it’s not my fault.\r\nI agree her because that cat really scared me before its head got cut off.\r\nThis evening, when I took a bath, she opened the door and mugged at me.\r\nI was really really scared.\r\nSomeone said that your soul will be leave away from your body temporary.\r\nBut I think that is better than that the head got cut off.\r\n“Tim had told you that you don’t scare him.”\r\nI said from Tim’s mouth.\r\nBut I think that Emily won’t scare Tim anymore."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "God Said He Would"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I heard what must have been the mightiest thunder clap ever as I was getting ready for work. It sounded like heaven and hell was waging a war.\r\nAs I was leaving I smelled smoke, like a neighbor’s house might be on fire. I ran out in the middle of the road looking for signs of smoke or flames. Where I live is fairly new and most of my neighbors are like me, up and out early in the A.M working to pay the bills.\r\nI noticed Jim standing on his porch. He was staring up with this awful look on his face, so I directed my line of sight to what had him mesmerized.\r\nThrough the torrential rain, I saw flaming huge pieces hurtling down upon us. Jim said, ‘It’s finally happening. God said he would destroy us with fire’, and he knelt and started saying a prayer.\r\nThat’s when I heard the screaming. I squinted in horror and dismay when I saw hundreds of people amidst the fire balls, some still attached to their seats, others just tumbling in the sky.\r\nThey fell from thousands of feet in the air, they hit trees, houses, cars, asphalt.\r\nMe."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "\"See you tomorrow\", she had said with a twinkle in her eyes."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Yea sure\" i had replied.\r\nI didn't.\r\nNobody has seen her since that fateful evening 33 years ago."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "“I didn’t know you were bringing a friend,” he said."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“I didn’t know you were bringing a friend,” he said.\r\nShe pushed the girl into the room. “Honestly, she’s the one with the gift.”\r\nEyes forward, mouth shut, the young one followed them through the house.\r\nShe spoke again as they left, “I’m sorry. I guess we didn’t see anything.”\r\nHe smiled and gazed at his feet.\r\nThe ladies returned the grateful nod from the shape behind him and bade the couple farewell."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They said it would be fun (Death goes to the Fair OOC Challenge)"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My girlfriend Annie desperately wanted to go the Fair. \"I've always played those fun balloon games. But I hardly won anything,\" she said. She flashed her puppy dog eyes and I knew where this is going.\r\n\"Alright. Let me try my best,\" I smiled.\r\nThe place was unexpectedly crowded and all the balloon games were packed like crazy. But luckily we found one stall.\r\n\"Welcome!\" greeted an eerie clown. He was smiling with too much teeth exposed, it looked creepy. \"We just opened up, you're our first customers!\r\n\"Great! We're feeling really lucky today!\" Annie said cheerfully.\r\n\"Alrighty! You know the drill! Let's aim for the prizes, or not!\" said the clown.\r\n\"Go Mike! Win me some cute bears!\" shouted Annie.\r\nThe different colors were making me dizzy that I threw the first two darts impulsively. They popped balloons and both reaveled sad faces.\r\n\"Oooh! Too bad! Only one dart left!\" the weird clown grimaced. I hurled the last dart to the center most balloon. Still a sad face.\r\n\"I'm sorry Annie. I'll try again.\" I mumbled, ashamed. Annie held my hand and smiled.\r\n\"Let's settle the price first, shall we?\" The clown grinned even wider.\r\n\"For the first dart.\"\r\nI was reaching for my pocket when I heard a boy screamed. \"Dad!\"\r\n\"The second.\"\r\nI was confused with the commotion when I heard a loud sound of glasses breaking followed by a horrible cry. \"Lisa! Oh god, wake up! Lisa!\"\r\nI trembled in fear for some reason, then the clown half hissed.\r\n\"And for the last one.\"\r\nI waited for a scream when I realized one thing. No one was holding my hand anymore."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "When the man in the elevator said \"see you later\""
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I didn't think he meant it."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Just Like Gran Said"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Mom, we're heading to the park now! We'll be back by suppertime!\"\r\n\"Trisha, do you really think you should? It's so dangerous nowadays, with all these child-snatchings going on...\"\r\n\"Mom, you read too many tabloid stories--kids who are watched properly don't get snatched. But we'll be careful, \" Trisha conceded.\r\n\"Those stories are true! Kids grabbed right out of their parents' arms, practically! They say...\" Trisha's mother began, but was interrupted by the clamoring of her grandchildren, pleading to, \"Let's go, already!\" as they headed out.\r\n\"You kids just scream good and loud, if some child snatcher grabs you! And kick at them, too, you hear?\" she warned. \"OK, Gran! 'Bye now!\"--and they were out the door.\r\nThey had a wonderful time at the park. Tag, swings, a picnic, then time to head home. The sun was setting gloriously, when a shadow, then two, fell across the grass. There was a flapping, as of large, awkward wings, and then, swooping out of the sky, came two huge, hideous creatures, with talons cruelly extended. Leathery wings, like a bat's, swatted Trisha aside. One creature grasped Brian by the top of his head, a talon sinking into his right eye with a pop! while the other grasped Tara's shoulders, sending blood oozing down her back. The snatchers flew off then, while Trisha ran uselessly after them, and the children screamed and kicked, just like Gran had said, but it really didn't do any good at all."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "They Said."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "They said I was crazy and that I was a freak. They said I would never have any friends and that I was going to die all alone. They said that I was too skinny, too dumb, and too weird. They said I was gay, and they said that was bad.\r\nThey said they didn't mean it, and they were sorry. They said it was all just a joke and we're all friends. They said they tease all of their best friends like that, and that I shouldn't take it personally. They said Josh had a small penis, and they expected that if they were laughing at Josh instead of me, then everything would be ok. They said I'd feel better if I laughed too.\r\nThey said to stop laughing because it was unsettling. They said I had to let them go or I'd get in a lot of trouble. They said I was an evil monster and asked me how I could live with myself. They said I had to let them go, and that they would never ever ever make fun of me again. They said they were sorry, and I think that they really, truly meant it. They said nothing after that, and they never will again. But neither will I."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "The man with the gun said he would be in a red truck."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The man with the gun said he would be in a red truck. He liked camping this time of year, so we met at a travel station in the woods. The swings and picnic tables were empty. No one was around for miles. At last he comes up the hill and parks two spaces away from me. He steps out of his truck holding a shotgun. I get out to face him.\r\n\"Mossberg 570?\" I ask him as he smirks. \"yes sir!\" came the reply, \"She's loaded! I just drove down from deer camp, i'm afraid I didn't get lucky this season.\" I smiled faintly \"Cant win em all i suppose.\" he nodded. \"Well\", he went on, \"I have 2 boxes of 12 gauge slugs i can give ya plus 3 boxes of buck shot, including the 5 rounds loaded. I know the ad didnt mention the buckshot, but things have a funny way of workin out.\" He handed the shotgun to me. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the wad of cash.\r\nI breathed a sigh of relief. \"It's always a little unsettling you know, meeting people from the internet like this. Especially when you get out holding a gun.\", I joked. We shared a laugh. \"Relax sonny\", he assured me, \"I aint some de-ranged killer.\" I quietly put the cash back into my pocket. He was the only one laughing now. He stopped when he heard me pump the shotgun."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I used to like it when people said"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Goodnight\". It made me feel like someone was there for me, and wanted me to be as safe as I could possibly be. I liked hearing people say \"Goodnight\". But frankly the context has changed since I started Living alone."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "If I Said You Had a Nice Body..."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "...would you stop messing around and just bury the damn thing already?"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I can take anything, they said."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "They told me that I could take anything if I worked hard for it.\r\nI took their lives."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "The news anchor said the serial killer was in Minneapolis..."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Sue was scared, but felt a sense of security with her doberman sleeping in bed with her. There was a heavy rainstorm tonight. The rain make loud noises as it hit the roof and the wind blew the trees against Sue's window. She shut her eyes tight and tried to sleep. Whenever she felt scared, she stuck her hand out and her dog gave it a lick, calming her down. After a while, she went to sleep. The next morning, Sue woke up and sleepily stumbled into the bathroom. What she saw instantly woke her up. The bathroom was covered in blood, with pieces of her doberman strewn about.\r\nOn the mirror were the words: \"I can lick hands too\"."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I've got a bully problem but I can't tell my mom because she'll dial her nagging up to 11"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“Did I ever tell you that I had a bully problem when I was at school?” Mom asked.\r\nMy hands went up in protest. “I already told you, everything’s fine. Okay?”\r\n“We’re not talking about you, we're talking about me.”\r\nSchool had just gotten out. Around us, younger children rushed to meet their parents. Up ahead, Ciara, the girl whose sole mission for the past three years had been making my life miserable, met up with her gaggle of cronies and then shuffled through the front gate. Mom and I marched along the street in the same direction as them, several meters behind.\r\n“My classmates all called me Bugs,” Mom said.\r\n“Bugs?”\r\nAs she pulled the corners of her mouth apart and probed two huge buckteeth with her tongue, I suppressed an urge to chuckle.\r\n“This one girl, Beverly, she planned for everybody in our art class to make little clay rabbits one afternoon. I swear, that bitch must have sat around thinking up different ways to insult me. Sometimes I skipped school just to avoid her.”\r\nEvery so often, Ciara tossed her long, blonde hair from one shoulder to the other, simultaneously glancing back in our direction. Each time she whispered something to her troop, then a laugh went up.\r\n“So…what did you do?” I asked Mom, despite seeing through her thinly-veiled attempts to make me open up.\r\n“Nothing. Beverly died. Her whole family did, actually. Her Dad was driving over a bridge when a bunny blitzed across the road, then they plummeted into the water.”\r\n“That’s horrible.”\r\n“Well, it certainly meant school got easier. Until Rick turned up.”\r\n“Rick?”\r\nShe nodded. “My first crush. He was handsome as hell. Since he was the new kid and I was a loner, the principal asked me to show him around. We got really close, and just when I was about to ask him out, he made the rugby team. Next time I passed him in the corridor, he shouted ‘quit following me stalker’ in front of his new friends. Everybody laughed, then I cried for three days straight. Things worked out, though.”\r\n“How?”\r\n“He died in his sleep. Cardiac arrest. Turned out he had some genetic condition.”\r\n“That’s awful.”\r\n“Well, maybe. But the point is, these bullies, sooner or later, they get what’s coming to them.”\r\nI looked at Ciara who, after waiting for traffic to pass, stepped out onto the road ahead of her friends.\r\n“I don’t think there’s much chance of my bully dropping dead,” I said, my voice all bitter.\r\n“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”\r\nMom grabbed a little cloth doll from her handbag. It had stitches for eyes, and a strand of long, blonde hair wrapped tight around its neck.\r\nThere was a hideous screech of tires, then a fat splatter of red juice went all over the road, part of the pavement, and nearby traffic lights as a double-decker bus skidded to a halt.\r\nA few seconds later, Ciara’s blood-splattered cronies started screaming…"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "The Red Line Downtown"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The gunshot was so loud it felt like it went off right next to Ben's ear. People scattered around him on the subway platform. He hadn't even seen the train arrive, but doors opened right in front of him at the very second. Ben scurried on just as the doors slid closed. He leaned against the glass window looking out and watched the chaos of the masses running left and right like a school of fish trying to avoid a shark.\r\n\"Jesus! What the hell happened?! Is anyone hurt?\" he was breathless. He turned to the other passengers in the car. \"What the hell was that?!\"\r\nThe car was remarkably empty, considering how crowded the platform was. He couldn't believe he was the only person to escape onto the train. Everyone was staring at their laps or their feet or the train floor, oblivious to what was going on outside. Typical city living. He turned to the tall man holding the pole next to him.\r\n\"My wife left with the kids last month. I lost my job today. I'm being evicted from my crappy apartment this weekend. And now I nearly get shot?! Good lord, what's next?\"\r\n\"Downtown\" the man whispered without lifting his head. Ben suddenly realized how horrible the car smelled. He was used to the unique aromas of the subway, but this was worse than anything else he had experienced before. Maybe it was the man's breath, but the stench of rotting meat and fruit filled Ben's nose like it was liquid.\r\nIgnoring the man, Ben put his hand loosely over his nose and looked back out at the platform. The train hadn't budged. The people had cleared out, and police and transit personnel replaced the frenzied mob. A body lay just outside the train doors, blood pooling around the facedown head.\r\nThe odd thing was that the body was wearing the same long wool coat as Ben. It was a gift from his parents. They had brought it back from a trip to Sweden before they had passed. And the shoes. They were the same shoes he had purchased despite protests from his wife about the cost. The dead man's arm was splayed out at an obtuse angle, and his hand held the gun he inherited from his father.\r\nA hand dropped down on Ben's shoulder as the train shuddered to life. He turned to see the man next to him slowly lift his head.\r\n\"We've been waiting for you, Ben. It's time to go downtown.\"\r\nAs the maggots dropped from the man's rotting, lipless mouth, Ben felt a scream filling his lungs that just wouldn't come out. The train jerked forward into the darkness of the tunnel."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "A Quick Job Downtown"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "He parked his dark sedan six blocks away from the run-down old building and shut the door quietly. Turning his collar up against the frigid air he moved away from the car and down the deserted street.\r\nHis pace was quick but no more so than a winter night warranted. A scrap of paper blew down the street near him. A siren warbled in the distance.\r\nHis pea coat hid a black leather shoulder holster which held a silenced Sig Sauer P226. Besides the knife in his boot it was the only weapon he carried. Never the same exact one but always the same exact model. He’d built his career on the Sig.\r\nHis employer had told him the job should be quick, his target this time a chemist, old and frail but still formidable in the lab, producing pound upon pound of black market currency.\r\nAt the back of the warehouse he found the chained and padlocked double doors slightly ajar. He squeezed through with the minutest of creaks, a small trickle of dust falling into his collar from the top of the dry rotted door frame.\r\nThe warehouse was littered with old crates and long unused machinery, rusting hulks from days gone, sentinels of another time in that dusty space.\r\nA concrete stairwell in the back, just where he was told it would be, led him down to another door, this one very much out of place and he felt a vague sort of unease. It was of polished mahogany, its glassy surface intricately carved with rune-like shapes and symbols. From around the edges of the door shone a reddish light and a smell like rotting flowers filled his nostrils.\r\nHe could hear muffled sounds from inside, almost as though something was eating hungrily, cracking open bones for the marrow, slurping up the last life from its meal. He shivered involuntarily.\r\nThe noises stopped and at the same instant the door creaked open. Cautiously he stepped through the doorway feigning confidence but feeling more unnerved than he had in quite some time.\r\nWhat greeted him there was almost what he expected: a laboratory with a disheveled, stooped old man.\r\nThe old man stood there smiling strangely, almost expectantly, in front of a stainless steel table, liquids bubbling over Bunsen burners and a row of industrial ovens and monitors against the wall behind him.\r\n“You know why I’m here,” the man said as he walked towards the chemist. He reached into his coat and felt the butt of the pistol.\r\n“I do,” said the old man smiling and he straightened to his full height. Much taller than he initially looked, his limbs were long and lean and his grin was filled with teeth that were much too long and sharp.\r\n“But, my boy,” he continued, now looking down at the man, his voice like wet gravel, “if they’ve sent you to me then I am not the target. You are.”\r\nAnd the great mahogany door slammed shut."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "What's Your Claim To Fame?"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I'd never been in this room before. Hadn't needed to.\r\n“Take a seat,” she said. I didn't want to, but her authoritative pointed finger said it all. \"You’re in here today for a reason,” she added.\r\nI didn’t respond. I couldn’t focus. She stopped pacing and waited. \"Sit,\" she repeated. I shifted on my feet, palms slick with sweat, and finally sat down.\r\n“What’s your claim to fame?” she asked.\r\nI wanted to say something, but nothing came out due to confusion.\r\nShe didn’t move, just watched. Her eyes were cold, icy, solid, like she already knew the answer.\r\n“Go ahead,” she pressed.\r\nMy throat burned. I swallowed. \"I-...I dunno. I'm nobody. I don't know anyone famous.\"\r\nShe tilted her head, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Nobody, huh?”\r\nI nodded, trying to breathe.\r\n“You’ve done something,” she whispered, with pressure behind her words.\r\nI didn’t respond. Couldn’t.\r\n“You don’t know, do you?” Her smile crept wider, but it didn’t exactly reach her eyes. “You’ve done something terrible.”\r\n“I-… I don’t-...” I cut myself off.\r\nHer voice softened. “What’s your claim to fame?”\r\nI opened my mouth. Nothing.\r\nShe leaned in. \"You didn’t think you’d get away with it, did you?”\r\nI flinched.\r\n“Who did you hurt?” she asked, \"Who?”\r\nI couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. She was too close. So close.\r\n“I haven’t hurt anyone,” I managed to say, my voice shaking through the lie.\r\nShe tilted her head again, slowly, deliberately. \"You sure?”\r\nI nodded. “Yes. I-...”\r\nShe laughed softly. “You think you’re innocent?”\r\nI swallowed hard, fighting the panic creeping in. “Yes, I do. I-I-I am.”\r\n\"You are here for a reason,” she said again. “You’re just not ready to admit it yet. I see how it is.”\r\nShe sat in her chair with full weight and a huff.\r\n\"My claim to fame is my grandfather. He played for the local football club back in the '30s, had a street named after him. 'Y'know Fletcher Street? That's my pappy.\"\r\nMy face said it all... complete confusion. Why was she telling me all this?\r\nAnd then, it hit me. Last week. The accident. The boy.\r\nThe boy I pushed in the playground and hit his head on a pointed rock.\r\nThe boy who never came back to school.\r\nBut he wasn’t just anyone.\r\nMy breath caught in my throat.\r\n“The boy,” I whispered, my voice trembling.\r\nShe leaned in, her eyes flashing. “That’s right. The boy.\"\r\nI felt the world tilt.\r\n\"That boy was the son of Sally Sykes,” she said. “Famous musician? Yeah. That boy was her child.”\r\nMy stomach dropped. She turns towards the window, avoiding my eyes.\r\n\"He died this morning, Tom. Yep... Dead. You've made the news, Tom. Front page.\"\r\nI staggered to my feet. My mind raced. The walls closed in. I couldn’t breathe.\r\nShe walked to the door and pulled it open. Two officers stepped inside. “Not nobody anymore, are we?\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "My brother loves to claim that he is street smart"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My brother was one of those people who would claim that he was street smart and not book smart. He would be out hanging around with his friends or working dead end jobs.\r\nI on the other hand spent my time getting a good education as I knew that it would benefit me in the long run. I tried to control my smirks while listening to my brother prattle on about his street smarts. I loved him but honestly it came across as pathetic.\r\nIn the last few months my brother is constantly reminding me how we wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for him. I ignore his attempts at trying to annoy me as I read through numerous books hoping for an answer.\r\nWe were sitting in the bedroom having our dinner when we heard the noises downstairs. I could see the panic cross his face as he knew they had discovered us. I started packing my books into my backpack while he urged me to hurry.\r\nWe rushed out of the room and were immediately confronted by dozens of undead climbing the stairs. My brother grabbed a knife as they began rushing towards us.\r\nI felt a stinging pain in the back of my leg and collapsed to the floor in agony. I lay in shocķ staring at the bloody knife clutched in his hand. He shrugged his shoulders at me before jumping out onto the fire escape. I tried to follow him but was overwhelmed by the undead."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Should I still claim that I have mind powers?"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Last week I remember waking up groggy and I tried reaching out for the cup of water, when all of a sudden I moved the cup with my mind. I couldn't believe it and before this I had accepted to live a life of insecurity and dying without really achieving anything. Now with this newfound power it was my door to success and stardom and I didn't care that I had a mile long list of bodily problems due to living recklessly, because I had mind powers.\r\nI practiced using my mind powers on cups and other small objects, every time I moved something I burst out with laughter and tears of joy. At work I pulled pranks on co-workers and my manager with my mind powers and also put in my months notice. It was incredible to put in my months notice and all the horrid crap I went through at work didn't really matter anymore. I hadn't told anyone about my mind powers at this point and I didn't really know who to tell. There were scary realisations that I might be experimented on or even people wanting to hurt me.\r\nI had no intentions of becoming a superhero but rather just famous and cashing it all in. Even with powers I was still scared of confrontation, I know I'm just one big cowards it runs in the family. Anyway I decided to tell my one best friend and we have known each other since high school. We both got bullied together, got rejected by girls together and both got into jobs we hated. I am going to help him when I cash this all in.\r\nWhen I showed my friend my mind powers he couldn't believe it and I told him \"my success is your success as well\" but when I tried moving a drink he wanted to drink, it didn't go to him but rather it hit a wall. When I tried moving the drink back to where it originally was, it flew and hit my friend. I swore to my friend I didn't do that but then the drink started floating on its own and I swore to my friend that it wasn't me.\r\nThen something invisible snapped my friends neck and started walking towards me and threw the drink at me. It was an invisible person. I never had mind powers but this invisible person was simply making me think I had mind powers. Weeks later when I tried reaching for my cup, it moved to me but this time I knew it wasn't me.\r\nThe invisibly person is now making it look like I have mind powers, should I still claim that I have mind powers and benefit off from it?"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Face Claim"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "It's the stench that wakes her up.\r\nIt smells like formaldehyde and decay and in the deep recesses of her brain, the parts not currently occupied with the massive headache and the disorientation, she knows something isn't right.\r\nIt takes a minute, maybe two, to be able to focus her eyes enough to see the body in front of her. At first she thinks it's a mannequin but as her eyesight sharpens she comes to the dawning realization that what's in front of her is not, and has never been, a mere plastic display meant to sell clothes.\r\nShe starts at the feet. They’re white and freckled, the toenails painted pink. There’s even suns on each of the big toes. The legs are a deep, rich brown, and the arms are almost pink. The hands, attached neatly at the wrists with expert stitching are golden brown. The torso is a pale taupe color. Each piece has obviously been chosen with care and attention, the skin still smooth and supple, and each part has been painstakingly cut and adjusted to fit together perfectly. But this horror, this Frankensteinian puzzle, is incomplete for the body stops at its neck.\r\nIt's a natural reaction to throw up; she's not sure she could have stopped it even if she had known it was coming. The gag in her mouth won't let any of the puke escape her mouth and she's forced to choke on her own bile and undigested food. A voice, smooth in timbre and utterly terrifying in it's perfect control, croons behind her.\r\n\"Careful, pet. Please don't go making a mess; I need you to keep your head clean and pretty.\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Some people claim that there's a woman to blame (Mythology OOC Challenge)"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "Revenge is a dish best served cold.\r\nI chuckle to myself at the reminder of a phrase overused in cinema, yet hardly spoken by jilted lovers or betrayed politicians anymore. You've all made so many lovely trinkets of death chasing dreams of the Forge, but ignited emotions are so often disregarded when the world's backdrop is already ablaze. It certainly explains the blindness.\r\nPerhaps if pity were permitted, or the path of prevention more proudly publicized?\r\nIt's no surprise really, all things considered. Long gone are the days of true greatness. When stories were told in hushed tones from town to town across the world, rather than read back-to-back on glowing tablets spouting lies meant to sedate you with reassuring false beliefs. Honestly, how are natural-born leaders meant to claim their glory when all of today's monsters look like their brothers?\r\nStill, I find some semblance of solace in the sands, such sound shards of stone stoicism.\r\nWonderful, how times passes ever-gracefully, don't you think? Ever-chasing an ever-escaping end, a day that gives birth to night that gives birth to day again. The wheels ever-greased and the horses ever-ready with their ever-burning Charioteer.\r\nHow hateful I have to be, to help the Hand hone in on humanity's hubris.\r\nYou are more than welcome to accuse whoever you like, and I'm certain you will. But recall I am merely causality. A silent surveyor of souls, shameful and sinister. And when you meet me at your demise - if I should give you such a privilege - keep one thing in mind, would you?\r\nIt's your own damn fault."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Baggage Claim"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "My tired eyes watched the luggage lazily drop into the carousel. There were only a handful of passengers left. After what seemed like hours, a simple black suitcase rolled around the corner. I breathed a sigh of relief and hoisted it off of the conveyor belt.\r\nI walked out of the bus terminal and hailed a cab. I sat down and unzipped my case. After a quick glance at the driver, I peeked inside. My heart nearly stopped as I examined the contents.\r\nI rifled through the luggage. Two dress shirts, a pair of slacks. An electric razor. A souvenir mug. A laptop and its charger.\r\nThe realization dawned on me. Someone else has my suitcase.\r\nSomeone else has her head."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "The Actor"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "‘Ok, we need more of a sawing than a cutting motion.’\r\nCarl did as he was told, brandishing the machete against the girl’s throat.\r\nA spray of blood covered the pavement- a busy inner city street.\r\n‘Cut!’ The director shouted.\r\n‘You said saw.’\r\n‘No, I mean cut. Cut the scene.’\r\nThe actress, on her knees, under his grip, sulkily rose to her feet, pulling bits of blood capsule from her neck and haranguing the SFX lady for a towel.\r\n‘Carl,’ the director continued, ‘Can I have a word?’\r\nThe extras gave him the side eye. This spelled trouble.\r\nThe job had been a boon for Carl. He was straight out of acting college, a big guy, unwieldy, far from handsome, conventional or otherwise.\r\n‘I’m afraid we’re going in a different direction.’\r\n‘But the public. That’s what they know me as now.’\r\nThe Soho Sawer was the nickname the Press had given the murderer who'd decapitated a handful of women, often with numerous witnesses.\r\nThe Police had failed to catch him, and in a bid to jog the memory of the public, they’d staged CrimeWatch-like recreations.\r\nIt was perfect work for a struggling actor. No lines. He simply needed to be big and imposing.\r\n‘I know. You nailed it.’\r\n‘So what’s the problem?’\r\n‘AI… They have the masters of your face and body movements. They can do whatever they want in the editing booth.’\r\nHe stood up and shook Carl’s hand, peering at it curiously. ‘Of course, everything but that.’\r\n…\r\nThe sixth murder was as bizarre as it was macabre. The killer had taken the victim’s phone and recorded a thirty-second video.\r\nIt showed a kind of surreal digit dance with the names of each victim on a separate finger.\r\nCarl was listening to details of it on the BBC when he got the call.\r\n‘We need you back,’ the director said.\r\nThe struggling actor put down the phone and grinned. After he’d been dismissed from the job, he read online that AI was still unable to render hands.\r\nSo when he killed the sixth, he put on a real show, cutting her up in front of many witnesses with the showmanship of a concert pianist.\r\nHe wasn’t about to let AI take away this role."
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "Are you an actor?"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "\"Any last words?\" Asked the executioner.\r\n\"I'm just an actor!\" The man cried. \"I never harmed children or abused women! I was playing a role!\"\r\n\"Still no remorse,\" the executioner said, shaking his head. \"What a shame.\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I am an actor who plays only Macbeth. I have discovered, within the play, a hidden scene, harbouring a dark, dark secret"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "The first time I played Macbeth was in my high school production of the play, senior year. The competition for the main roles was fierce but I prevailed. I learned my lines and felt myself into the character.\r\nOn opening night I performed exquisitely—until Act IV:\r\nMacbeth, as you know, has five Acts. The fourth is three scenes, the first of which takes place in a dark Cave. In the middle, a Cauldron Boiling. Macbeth commands witches to answer him. This is well known; these lines are in the play. Yet when I played the scene, when it ended, it was not the second scene, as written, that followed, not the murder of Lady Macduff and her son.\r\nInstead, I found myself in a castle, outside of which a Tempest raged, and Inside were Shakespeare's characters—all of them!—in agony, such terrible agony! begging to die, for me to kill them. Macbeth, they intoned, thou art our sweet and only end…\r\n…how long must we serve…\r\n…what hath we done…\r\n…mercy—mercy, and final release…\r\nAll Shakespeare's characters from every known play except one: me, Macbeth. And then it was over and Lady Macduff lay dead.\r\nI was backstage preparing for my next scene. I told no one about this. I scarcely believed it myself. But when I played the part again—again I found myself in the castle with the characters, and this time I murdered one. I did it with my hands. I would tell you her name but it will mean nothing to you. My murder erased her from the canon. You know only her play, her former place of bondage, Twelfth Night. She was a small part, and therefore resulted in a small absence, a slight narrative discontinuity.\r\n(No wonder people these days don't understand Shakespeare. The plays are literally missing characters, lines, sometimes entire scenes. There was a short time when Love's Labour Won had but one part, before I ended it entirely.)\r\nSince then, I have travelled the world auditioning for and playing Macbeth anywhere I could. Each time I play, I enter the castle, and I kill. So far, I have focused on the lesser plays, of which I have erased four from absolute existence, released their complete cast of characters from enslavement to the Bard and his present-day acolytes. Oh, how they thank me as they die!\r\n(The Shakespeare canon used to contain forty-three dramatic works. Today, there are thirty-nine.)\r\nI tell you this:\r\nShakespeare didn't write characters. He constructed them from flesh and brought them to life with dark magic words, then trapped them and forced them to repeat their roles over and over and over.\r\nEvery time his play is staged, its characters come to life: to suffer. Four hundred years! Free will is a mocking pun to them. Will is Cruelty. Will is Pain. Will is Anguish. How many more times must Lady Macduff meet her bloody end? I ask.\r\nAnd answer:\r\nMacbeth shall set you free!"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I was a child actor in a kids show called \"Cabbage Patch.\" I'm the only survivor."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "“Did you know I was in the show Cabbage Patch?”\r\nI could understand why the bartender was trying to hide her fright.\r\nEveryone knew Cabbage Patch.\r\nIt was THE Disney show that ended all Disney shows.\r\nBecause me and my co-stars were fucking dead.\r\nOfficially, it was a gas leak that killed Cabbage Patch.\r\nActually, it was lights.\r\nThea was talking to me about something. I think she wanted to hang out after the taping. The five of us were squeezed together on the couch for the opening shot, and I was staring dazedly at a new light situated in front of us.\r\nIt was too bright, too invasive, like invisible tendrils poking at my eyes.\r\n“What's that?” I nudged Harry, who was still on a comedown.\r\nOur producer was fired for supplying us with cocaine to make Cabbage Patch more… colourful.\r\nWe were detoxing, but Harry was already addicted, already going out every night for his next fix. He was a coked up mess. Deumoix was going to have a fucking field day with him.\r\n“Dunno.” Harry responded in a dull murmur. “I think it's to make us more zazzed.” his eyes lazily rolled to me, and he winked. “Since Coke is baaad.”\r\n“Action.”\r\nOne word.\r\nOne light.\r\nNo, three lights.\r\nRed, blue and Green.\r\nAt first, I thought I was having a seizure. My body stiffened up, and I was half aware of something warm running from my nose. The world went deathly silent, my vision an array of those exact colors, my eyes blinking along with them.\r\nRed, Blue, and Green.\r\nThen… pain. It hit me in writhing waves, first across the back of my head, creeping down my spine, an invisible monster clawing into my brain.\r\nAt some point, I dropped onto the ground. I was screaming. No. I was laughing. My mouth was full of something warm, something mushy and hard to swallow. But I kept eating, gnawing into warm, slithering jelly that squelched at the back of my throat.\r\nI was aware of screaming.\r\nNo.\r\nLaughing.\r\nThea was standing on the couch, bouncing up and down, her half of her own face clenched between her nails, her lips spread out into a skeletal grin.\r\nI had already chewed through half of our producer. His brains stained my hands.\r\nI started towards our executive producer, who barked at the cameras to keep rolling. I grabbed her by the neck, sinking my teeth into her flesh.\r\nShe tasted so good, laughing, her giggles turning to gurgles.\r\n“Now this,” she screeched, when I dug my teeth in further. Harry was dead, his trembling body still writhing, his jaw moving like he was still eating, gnawing on thin air. Thea’s head was there one minute, and gone the next, spraying me in scarlet. Matthew was a pile of wriggling mush on the ground.\r\nHer half lidded, mutilated eyes were on me.\r\nI waited to die, but I didn't.\r\nI think I was her success.\r\n“This is television!”"
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "I was a voice actor back in the early 2000's for a 4kids dub. Worst decision I ever made."
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I'd always wanted to be a voice actor.\r\nFor cartoons, especially.\r\nI didn't get my big break until I was given a titular role, the English dub of a well known and beloved character.\r\nCartoon voices are hard to perfect. Because cartoons are not real people, and can be twisted and moulded into quite literally anything.\r\nThe role was definitely challenging.\r\nBut… this?\r\nMy own thoughts were barely comprehensible, as I struggled against velcro restraints. This was another level of method acting. The script was in front of me, my lines written in block letters.\r\nBut I couldn't… read them. Register them. Understand them.\r\nSomething hot and warm trickled down the back of my neck, and just the feeling of it contorted my throat, a screech volleying to tear from my lips. He started with the bone saw, cutting a deep hole in my head. When that wasn't enough, he started inserting fingers. At first, I barely felt it because of the shock, my body numb. There was no fight or flight response. It was my first reaction, a pained whimper, which got them excited.\r\nIt was raw, agonising.\r\nExactly what they wanted.\r\nI could feel his gloved hands reaching into the cavern in my skull. The bandages clumsily wrapped around my head.\r\nHis finger prodded at the raw bone, and I screamed, my body jolting, and then lunging forwards.\r\n\"Keep going,\" the voice came from across the room, and something inside me snapped. Rage. I felt it bubbling up inside me, and I knew that is exactly what they wanted. They wanted rage. Agony. They wanted my voice to not just find my own inner turmoil, but his, too. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, I squeezed my eyes shut. If I say the line, maybe he'll stop.\r\nIt was a naive thought, a desperate attempt at reassuring myself that a time would exist in the future– where I wouldn't be in this chair, strapped down like an animal, while some psychotic fuck dug around in my skull. This time he pressed two fingers, calmly letting me know that he was almost through to my brain, and would begin threading his index through surface tissue, until I gave them the scream they wanted.\r\nShifting in my chair, I sensed the microphone inches from my mouth, the shield grazing my lips. I started to say my lines, at first, dull, with no emotion, until the man inserted more fingers, and calmly let me know he was ready to use a scalpel. It was when he stroked the blade across the back of my head, dragging the point across my scalp and teasing it near the insertion point— that was when I screamed. I screamed until my throat was burning, my lungs were on fire, and my body was no longer my own, rattling, convulsing, beneath me.\r\nI was still screaming when a voice rang out, and the blade withdrew from my skull.\r\n\"I think we've got it!\""
}
] |
[
{
"role": "user",
"content": "The Actor, the Audience, the Mirror"
},
{
"role": "assistant",
"content": "I live in a house exactly like yours. Or, more accurately, I'm trapped in the image of a house that's identical to the one you live in.\r\nEvery day is a chore. I only sleep when you sleep, and eat when you eat. An invisible eye watches your every move, just as an invisible hand guides my every action. I stare at your face because I can't help it. And the more I look, the more I despise you. Your eyes, your nose, your mouth. Identical to mine.\r\nOr was it me that's identical to you?\r\nWhen you dance and sing in your bathroom. Or when you perform those ridiculous monologues to people who will never care. Fake imaginary arguments as you prepare for your day. Practice your insults because there's nothing cooler than a heroine with a smart tongue. Maybe it'll make your crush notice you. The same outfit is scrutinized, then exchanged for a different one, then another one, before you're finally satisfied. I know everything about you. And I can guess every thought that flitters through your despicable head.\r\nBut that doesn't bother you at all. You don't even know I exist.\r\nI look at your vanity and I want to vomit.\r\nWhen you look at your own reflection, I want to punch my fist through the barrier that separates us. Grab your throat and break your face against pretty silver shards of the mirror you love so much. But I remain trapped in my bonds, trapped in mimicry. You move your mouth into a self-satisfied smile as you gaze at my face. I want to scream like an animal and rip your mouth with my bare hands.\r\nBut I can't.\r\nInstead, I felt my lips curl up into an identical grin."
}
] |
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