prompt
stringlengths 5
331
| story
stringlengths 404
40.3k
|
|---|---|
[ OT ] Self Promotion Saturday - Link us to things you 've been doing
|
I'm publishing a new chapter of my serial novel [ Sol ] ( http: //robotissmiling.com/2015/08/11/sol/ ) every two weeks ( give or take ).
Here's the overall description: `` It took 20,000 years to build civilization on Earth and only 45 minutes to tear it down.
The Hensie and Ensari have been fighting for centuries, but which one is here to save us and which one to enslave us. Rick would ’ ve stayed with his family, but he wasn ’ t given the choice. He was plucked from Earth by the Ensari as his wife and daughter were whisked away by the Hensie. Now he fights across the galaxy to find them as they struggle to survive a hostile world.''
I love getting feedback. Hope you enjoy.
|
[ WP ] You have been sentenced to 300 years in prison . The catch is that you are an immortal being .
|
When we discovered the secrets to longevity the religious fanatics were the first to denounce it. Every single religion cried out for the experimentation to stop, playing god they said we were. They were probably right... None of that bothered me now though, not in the slightest, that was hundreds of years ago now. I was imprisoned for crimes against humanity, crimes against the world, crimes for human testing. When they had assigned me three hundred years in prison they thought I would have expired long before the sentence was up. They had n't realised I had already dosed myself with the serum, 300 years was naught more than a blink for me now.
They realised after the first ten years of the sentence. After ten years in the harshest prison in Britain you'd expect to have aged a bit quicker than your average human. A few grey hairs or some wrinkly lines on the face at the very least; but I was free of all physical aging. My body clock had reverted to its prime, frozen in stasis, the lone immortal on Planet Earth, and one day I would be free.
I could see it now, those who had been tasked with keeping an eye on me down the years would be running around losing their heads. They'd hoped I would have started to falter by now, that I would have tired, the serum would have started to lose its grip on my system. They were wrong and my science was infallible.
I had noticed a disturbing trend from within my cage. As the years went on I had expected the religious nature of humanity to deteriorate over the centuries, yet it seemed to only strengthen. My guards had become clerics, the prison had become emptier and emptier as the church stamped out this misbehaviour in their flock. When I was finally released from this crumbling building I would have a lot of work to do, I would have to release the world from the clutches of convent.
|
[ WP ] write both sides of an affair , make both sides feel valid and empathizeable
|
I tried to make her happy. She was beautiful, kind. In the beginning, she saw me for what I was and what I could be, and she loved me for it. I thought we could be the ones that everyone else was jealous of -- the ones still in love at 80, despite all the pain the world could throw at us. We were happy together once. Until the world stopped fighting us and we started fighting each other. First the long talks about strategy stopped. Then the intimacy dried up. Her brilliant jewel of a mind was locked away from me, no matter how I tried to bring it back. She was angry, then cold, then indifferent. It was only a matter of time.
-- --
He said he loved me. That we could have a life together, a good life. One that would shine as a beacon to those looking for love. So we conquered the world together. But slowly I realized that he never loved me -- he never even knew who I was. I could explain all I wanted to about the anger of poverty, the joy of escaping it. He would n't know the pain of losing your religion, and then your family. Not that I wanted him to. But when I tried to build the kind of deep connection that I craved, the kind I used to have, it always turned out one sided. I was lonelier than I had ever been even when I was n't alone. It was only a matter of time.
|
[ CW ] Make a bittersweet story out of a joke .
|
`` Heh, I guess I'm at the end of my rope here.''
The words of the man were melancholy, but had an air of understanding that these were his final moments. However they did nothing to ease the mood of the lone visitor to the man's dismally empty hospital room. The sounds of the gaunt man's shallow breathing matched the electronic beeping of the impassive medical equipment. It was night, car lights flashed through the thinly curtained window, its visage gazing out into the bustling city life below. Rain lightly pattered against the glass frame, adding to the drone of the machines, the breathing, and the hoarse laughter of the room's dying occupant.
`` Listen, boy, you got ta believe this is for the best, OK? Whatever happens after I pass on, I'll be in a better place. Hell, if I can, I'll be sure to haunt you, heh heh.''
The man's attempt at lightening the mood did nothing to soften the boy's resigned expression. His thin shoulders trembled, as if preparing for the tears that might follow- No, no. He promised he would n't cry.
`` I should probably stop with the jokes.. they're going to be the death of me...''
The boy could n't believe the man was making jokes at a time like this. Always the comedian, he was.. The boy did n't feel like laughing either. Tears and joy were not going to be present when the man passed.
`` Could you at least _try_ to find some humor in this? It's like you're dead inside. Heh..'' Horse laughter followed, descending into a coughing fit. The boy reached out to help, but what could he do? Besides, The man quickly recovered and resumed his shallow breathing, although it was much slower than before.
The rain kept falling, its steady pace droning on and on.
`` I know its raining, I know everything seems bleak, but you ca n't be under the weather at a time like this. It'll be fine.''
The boy looked up, eyes suddenly glistening. The mechanical beeping increased, and the rain became a steady roar.
`` Do you know why I keep cracking terrible jokes? It's because I want you to be happy. even at a time like this. You know that.'' His breathing worsened.
A stray car light passed the window, illuminating the man's face for a brief moment. His eyes sparkled with a reassuring gaze. The boy could n't find the words to say anything. He just wanted to tell the man how much he meant to him, but the words simply vanished.
The beeping of the monitors became frantic.
`` Listen. I'll be in a better place, wherever or whatever it is. You'll be fine, OK..! You'' ll be fine. But one last thing.. What did the buffalo say to his son when he left?''
The boy could n't believe that the man's last words were going to be a shitty joke-
`` Bye-son. I love you.''
The beeping flatlined, and the boy lost control of his tears.
The rain returned to its melancholic drone.
|
[ WP ] Space has become the future of humanity , unlocking a new age of innovation , colonization , and economic prosperity . But , life 's not great for all . Tell an emotionally-charged story of a working class man in space .
|
Coffee boils on the hotplate. I grab a cup and vape as I scan the morning headlines. `` Window opacity: 20 percent, style: venetian blind'', I tell the room. The room is barely illuminated by Sol. I am calm now. `` 4:28 a.m. Standard Earth'', the room states.
`` 4:28 a.m. Stand...''
`` Thank you Isabelle, already up.''
`` My pleasure, do you wish for me to alert you to your future alarms?''
`` Yes.''
`` Yes sir.''
I continue reading an op-ed article about the possible discovery of intelligent life in the same age of technology as we were in the 1400's on a distant world. A very interesting anti-intervention argument noting the complexities of human society during that time and asking who do we contact, how do we relate to them without forcing existential questions and changes within those societies. I look towards Sol, inhale the vape, sip the coffee. What it would be like to actually be the one that was able to explore that beautiful cold void? To be able to passionately present my own argument to the council. I day-dream for a while, pretending to be a pathfinder, touching alien planets not just for resource extraction, or facility maintenance. Granted these things are needed, things need to be repaired, resources mined, resources shipped, but there is this sadness tugging at my stomach like an asteroid-catcher pulling a rock to a mining bay.
`` What if...'', I start to think. I pretend that my family had actually believed the counselor at the prep-school, had decided to put me in science and mathematics track. I pretended that I studied vigorously, arguing why the first mission to Mars was a failure, winning friends and friendly rivals, the ship operator's kid that was a secret genius.
I imagine presenting my arguing thesis reconciling Newtonian and Quantum physics, explaining the Bahri Mirroring effect of the two fields to the Science and Mathematical Institute of Singapore's Pathfinder Council, the most prestigious in the system. I imagine the accolades that are rained down upon my team, each of us freight-dock kids. Each of us set out on different Pathfinder missions, our solemn but joyful goodbyes as we set out on our own missions.
`` You'll forget where you come from. You think you're so goddamned smart just because some teacher said you might, MIGHT, be able to get into a Pathfinder program! I piss on her and I piss on you! ``, my father said. I instead fucked off and jumped my training ship as soon as the Demeter docked to Titan. A big fucking what if, I think to myself. I finish the cup of coffee, it's cold now.
`` 5:28 a.m. Standard Ea...'', the room snaps me back to reality.
`` Thank you Isabelle, discontinue alarm.''
`` Have a good day sir'', the hollowly-warm female voice from the speakers says.
I pour another cup of coffee and stare out the window into the black silence of space. I then get ready to face another day working a hydrocarbon drill, watching my back, making sure that one of the other drill-monkeys does n't try to push me in the drill hole hoping to clear my spot for one of their cousins, or whomever.
The internals are cool from the night-day-night cycle. The day-night-day crews get the worst of it; sweating to the point of near dehydration, PAR-MED's responding to each work crew. Building the new drilling environment is brutal. I exit the dwelling and start towards the drilling hole for one of the corner-posts of the new drilling environment. Your hands are numb by the end of the last shift from the hydrocarbons rushing through the drill back to the holder.
|
[ WP ] When people die , they explode violently , destroying everything within 50 feet .
|
Humans are thinking, walking hollow meatbags filled with explosives. Who had said that? Someone important. Did n't matter, that guy probably exploded somewhere down the line. Might've taken someone down with him. What mattered, though, was Danny's target. He had his crossbow trained on the chieftain.
The chieftain was a noble man. He tried to bring his village together and made sure no one died. He risked his own life for this, of course. But that was what made people like him. He could potentially stop the killings and deaths happening in this part of the mountains. Give them a proper purpose. Made sure they did n't have to worry about death, and accidentally killing their loved ones just so they were in close proximity to the one who died.
Well, the chieftain made a mistake. He should not have brought all the villagers together for his meetings. One death and all the children and wives at home will be widowed or orphaned. As they gathered around the huge oak, Danny had loaded up his crossbow, feeling the satisfying twang of the elastic he pulled.
He let shot a bolt, and an explosion chain like no other shook the mountains.
________
They were called Kamenazis. Suiciders who were all part of an ancient criminal organisation. They were the reason many civilizations fell. And others rose.
This is a tale of the Augustus Massacre.
Augustus was a Roman king who ruled the Eastern territories of China. He had modernised many things in what was essentially a progressing country. But he was also an arrogant and ruthless ruler. He did not kill, no. That was what the peasants in the country did. The farmers fued and in their conflict, they kill. And by killing, they had committed not only to their death, but the death of other farmers and, more importantly, the destruction of the rice fields and equipment.
This was something Augustus could not accept. And so he had created and implemented a new form of agriculture. One that involved many secluded farms and rice fields and catered to an individual each. This individual was wholly responsible for his own harvest and should not enlist help from another owner of a farm. The policy was well received. Production, though slower, had been improved drastically.
This had gotten the attention of the ancient organisation. They heard the tales of this legendary Augustus, and they visited China. And killed the king.
Now Augustus had built a place for himself. It jaguars every fifty feet.
_______
class starts earlier than I thought. will continue later
|
[ WP ] A newly-hired bartender is slowly realizing that he 's working at the bar from all of those `` X walks into a bar '' jokes .
|
`` X... Professor X?'' Logan said from behind the bar.
`` Oh, shit!'' said Professor X telepathically to Wolverine.
`` You can walk?'' Logan asked bewildered, as he saw his friend and mentor walking for the very first time.
`` It's a miracle, Logan!'' Xavier said, almost as he did n't even believe himself.
`` Spare me your bullshit. What the hell! You mean to tell me, that all this time you could walk? Including the time your chair broke in the jungle and I personally had to carry you for over 10 miles through dense forrest?'' Logan asked, getting increasingly worked up as he finished his question.
`` Umm...'' Xavier did n't have the words. Perhaps he had finally grown tired of keeping up with the charade.
Knowing how Wolverine would react before even Wolverine knew, Xavier was forced to use his powers to go into the mind of Wolverine and effictively break his brain.
As Logan collapsed to the ground, Xavier grabbed a bottle of Scotch and ran out of the bar.
Wolverine's mind will heal, but he wo n't have any memory of when Professor X walked into a bar on a cold winter day.
|
[ WP ] You are immortal however if you die in a dream , you die in real life . You have mastered the ability of lucid dreaming , however one night , you are faced with your worst nightmare .
|
Part 1 of 3:
`` Give me your wife, and I give you life,'' spoke the old gypsy woman. At the time, I did n't take her seriously, but can you blame me? She seemed like just another homeless person; tattered clothes and a face so filthy you'd think it barely human. `` I'd like to see that,'' I said with a sense of indifference, almost amused. I would n't even say that I agreed with her. I just sort of spoke, but it did n't mean anything.
I spent that night in a hospital next to my dying wife. She had suffered a heart attack and no one was able to get to her in time. She had brain damage, and her life was in my hands. Honestly, it was an easy decision to make. It would have cost thousands of dollars to keep her on life support, and there was very little chance of recovery, with no chance of full recovery. I pulled the plug without hesitation and I was alone. Alone at last.
No, I did n't regret my marriage. I simply needed a break, and my wife's death gave me a breath of fresh air at a time when I was gasping for life.
I left the hospital and took a deep breath, and as I exhaled the world away she appeared. It was the old gypsy woman. `` As promised. Life.'' She reached up to my face with a murky palm, and I grew more still as she drew her hand closer.
When at last she touched my face, I was in a different world, with someone else. The gypsy woman had become as beautiful as our surroundings, wearing colors just the same. “ You live a dream, ” she said. “ What? ” I answered. I ’ d never been so confused. So, baffled. She faced me and said, “ You live a dream. ” Her face seductive and kind. She stepped closer to me. “ You live a dream. ” I stepped back, almost frightened. Again, and again she repeated those words, “ You live a dream. ” My mouth hung open, but no words but hers could fill the air. Until, finally, she seemed to lean in to kiss me and said, “ And you will die a dream. ”
Part 2 of 3:
Every night my wife comes back to kill me. I tell her it was an accident; that I didn ’ t mean to trade her life for anything. She doesn ’ t listen. She doesn ’ t care. I don ’ t know how all this is possible, but if I die in my dream – if my wife kills me – I will die here.
It has been almost 3 months since I ’ ve last slept. I am immortal, but my body doesn ’ t think so. I still get tired. I still want sleep. The answer? A sea of caffeine and energy drinks. But, the more I take, the more I need the next day. This can ’ t go on.
I once craved excitement, but everything has gotten so boring. So different. I ’ ve been shot. Run over. I ’ ve fallen off a building. I once even spent 10 minutes under water, just to see if I could. Now, I live my immortal life in fear, and I hate it. I ’ m constantly battling sleep and depression, but I don ’ t want to die. Oh, God. I don ’ t want to die.
Part 3 of 3:
I can ’ t run away forever. The life I live is no longer worth living.
I lie in my bed and fall asleep with absolutely no effort. I ’ d needed this for a while. My body feels like it ’ s floating on open water. I open my eyes, and I awake in a lake in a dream world. Everything here is missing authenticity, it ’ s fake. I feel the water, it ’ s cold, but something ’ s missing.
“ You ’ re finally back, ” I hear a woman say with words as soft as cotton. I turn my head, knowing it could only be her. “ You killed me, John, ” she says, a face like stone. “ I haven ’ t slept in weeks, Claire, ” I tell her as I rise to my feet. “ Please. I didn ’ t mean to make you like this. ”
She walks towards me, with nothing but the hospital gown she died in. Her walk, calm but menacing. “ Claire! ” I screamed, but there is no reasoning with her. She reaches for my throat, and all I think is that I can ’ t let her kill me. I punch her face with enough force to break bone, and a crack is heard.
She falls back, but she gets back up, seemingly unscathed. Again she attacks the throat. I slap away her hands and punch her once more, only this time I don ’ t stop. I punch, and I punch, and I kick her as she falls to the ground, screaming my lungs out.
My hands hurt, and I can ’ t keep this up. Still, she rises. I need to end this, but there ’ s nothing around for miles.
I kick at her legs, and she falls. I grab her head and force her to turn over. Then, planting my foot squarely on her back, I pull clumps of hair with all the force I have, and only I scream. The hair is pulled off of her head, and I lose my balance. She will not stop, so neither can I. I place my knees on her shoulders and pull. I feel her fingers digging into my skin, but I do not stop.
Finally, the vertebras crack and you hear muscle begin to tear with sound like that of paper. Then, you see the result of your actions: the skin pales and then turns bright red as blood begins to seep through. You keep pulling, and in the last big tug, it comes off.
“ Yes, ” I think to myself “ It ’ s over. ” I sit there, enjoying what might at long last be my freedom from this curse, but something ’ s wrong. A cold chill runs down my spine as I hear a woman say with a voice as soft as cotton, “ You killed me, John. ”
The voice comes from behind me. I stand, but I don ’ t know what for. I ’ m afraid to turn around. “ You killed me, John, ” speaks the woman whose calm voice makes sweat drip from my brow and tears flow from my eyes.
I turn to face her. I know I ’ m powerless, I know this won ’ t stop, and I know how this must end.
I drop to my knees, and she walks closer, her hands reaching for my throat. I dropped my head.
“ I ’ m sorry, Claire, ” I said. “ I ’ m sorry I did this to you. I ’ m just… I don ’ t know. I ’ m so scared. ”
“ Scared? ” said Claire with radiating benevolence. “ We ’ re all scared. ”
Her hands clenched my throat with warm, forgiving fingers. I looked up at her and all around me the world grew dark, until there was only her face… and then nothing.
|
[ WP ] You 're playing Scrabble with the devil for your soul .
|
`` SON OF A BITCH'' he screamed, obviously contemplating flipping the board.
`` Satan my kids are sleeping do you mind?'' I said calmly. He eyed my furiously; contempt oozing from his glare.
`` Did you sneak out ALL of the vowels'' he squeezed through gritted teeth. I shook the letter bag at him.
`` Does it sound like letters are missing? I know you're down but have some class Satan'' I said perhaps too cold.
He mumbled a few things under his breath and went back to struggling to make a word. He finally gets down `` glare'' and I chuckle a little. The words finally start to go down at a good pace until I have one letter left. Satan smiling openly due to his twenty point lead and only a single letter left. I place the `` X'' above the I and get the triple letter score and, sit back in my chair smiling.
`` XI! Thats definitely not a word!!'' he starts yelling.
`` The kids satan. The kids.'' i say exasperated as I throw him the scrabble dictionary. A few moments later he starts throwing letters back into the bag as I put the coffee mugs in the sink. He gets up and walks towards the door.
`` See you next week?'' I inquire
`` Yea same time as always?''
`` Of course, You're gon na get me one day. You've gotten a lot better.''
he mumbles a few more words under his breath on his way out the door.
|
[ WP ] A story where all the dialogue is lyrics from your favorite song .
|
Marilyn Manson Running to the Edge of the World.
*'' Remember when I took you up to the top of the hill? `` * He gently stroked her face with his callused hands. She smiled and nodded. *'' We had our knives drawn - they were as sharp as our love'' * He chuckled as she took she took his hand into hers. White as milk and just as smooth, it was soothing. They exchanged smiles *'' If God crossed us... we'd take all of his drugs, burn his money and his house down, and wait for the fire to spread'' * she said smiling.
She thought back to a simpler time. A time when their love was easy and refreshing. He looked into her doe eyes and wondered what had happened. *'' Sometimes... hate is not enough to turn this all to ashes. `` * She turned her head as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. *'' Together as one, against all others? `` * It was his turn to look away now. *''... Break all of your winds and... make sure it crashes-'' *
She took his cold hands into hers and finished his sentence *'' We're running to the edge of the world - running, running away. `` * Her face brightened in such a sad way as she continued. *'' We're running to the edge of the world! `` * He stopped her. She was too optimistic, unlike this man with the hardened heart. *'' I do n't know if the world will end today...'' *
She wiped her eyes and snickered as she thought back to their greatest - darkest - moments. *'' I had no choice... erased the debt of our family. Let you say goodbye -'' * Bitterly, he cut her off *'' With lips of dynamite. And everyone turned their backs! `` * He was visibly angry as she continued, showing no emotion. *'' Because when we held on tight to each other, we something fatal. `` * He scoffed. *'' That fell into the wrong hands. `` *
For her own sake, she continued, hoping to thaw his frozen heart. *'' We're running to the edge of the world! Running, running away. We're running to the edge of the world...'' * Her voice wavering, she added *'' I do n't know if the world will end today'' *His eyes met hers and finally, he felt a connection to this woman.
*'' We do n't seek death, we see destruction... Death, we seek destruction. `` * She saw the hurt in his eyes and she embraced him. She could feel him relax in her arms for the first time in years. He stroked her gentle curls and took in the smell of her shampoo and the rhythmic heart beats.
*'' We're running to the edge of the world. Running, running away... We're running to the edge of the world. But... I do n't know if the world will end today'' * She stroked his back, no longer tense. A tiny smile came to his lips.
He gently pulled away from her comforting embrace and smiled at her. *'' See a new beginning rise behind the sun - we ca n't never catch up to them as fast as we run. `` * There was hope and as long as they held on to it, they would survive this.
|
[ WP ] Brain aneurisms are unexpected and kill you in an instant ... but they happen for a reason because the human stumbles upon a specific thought she must not have conceived in her lifetime .
|
I looked at the body on the slab, the man I was supposed to have dinner with, the man I loved more than anything.
`` Yes, it's him, Max Penny'', I said, not being able to say much more.
`` Thank you, ma'am'', the officer responded.
I wonder if his wife was behind it, I bet she was. Maybe jealousy? She envied his fame maybe? Perhaps his intelligence? Us?
`` What now? ``, I asked the officer. The man was staring at his report like he did n't want to fill it, worried perhaps that he'd die of boredom.
`` Well, we need to notify his next of kin, but I do n't think you need to do anything anymore with this''.
`` How did you know to find me anyway? ``, I asked.
`` Oh, well, we saw an appointment notification on his phone, and lucky for us, he did n't lock it, so we knew where to find you'', the officer responded. I did n't even recall his name.
Yeah, lucky! Max never took proper care of things like this! Susan could easily have spied on him, find the truth, hurt him. It had to be her, it had to!
`` Ma'am, could you tell me something? ``, the officer's voice sounded a mile away.
`` Uh, what's that, officer? ``, we'd ended up at his desk. I must've lost track.
`` Well, I've seen his face in the news, at least I think I have. Was he famous?''
The ignoramus! How could he not know? Max Penny, the man who was to Mathematics what Stephen Hawking... no, Albert Einstein was, to Physics. The man who solved problems we thought we'd have to wait centuries to solve. When I met him, he'd solved the P versus NP problem in Computer Science. `` For fun'' he said!
`` Uh yeah, he was pretty famous, in Math'', I managed.
`` Yeah, that explains this...'', the officer motioned to a journal sitting on his desk.
Handing it to me, I flicked through and recognized it... Max's journal. Or at least, one of them, the handwriting in the beginning page was unmistakably his, clean, crisp, every equation annotated so others could understand. Another reason I loved this man. Susan, that bitch!
Oddly though, his writing became less and less clear. Was he working on the train? It got steadily worse, I could barely recognize the squibbles, a better word did n't exist for the chicken scratch the writing seemed to have degraded to... I wonder...
I took advantage of the officer's distraction to take the book and then take my leave. I had to keep something of Max's. His wife could never understand, and she'd probably sell or burn it, that stupid cow. Oh, Max! I miss you already.
At home, I looked at the journal again, and something was clear. Max was onto something fundamental. Right up to the point the writing started to falter, I understood what he was doing, taking the standard representation of numbers along axes of lines to spheres. A completely different way of representing them! That alone would have made a splash, but Max was after something... bigger.
I took an empty notebook and copied the last legible page, and decided to continue. The fundamentals Max laid out were painfully detailed, as if he was laying out a path. I would follow him, I would follow him anywhere.
The inertia of Max's work carried me forward, initially. I filled two such notebooks with work, and I knew I was coming towards an answer to Max's question at the start of his journal. Oh my love, would you be proud of me? Thoughts of you fill me with energy.
I had no appetite, I had a purpose, to finish Max's work. Nothing else seemed to matter.
At notebook number four, I noticed something... My writing was starting to falter. My mind did n't feel like itself. It did n't matter, I needed to keep going, I'd write slower.
At notebook number ten, it became clear. Susan did n't kill Max, this did, this problem. He solved it, as I have, and it killed him. I have this thought in the fraction of a second before life goes dark.
Division by Zero can not, and should not have an answer.
|
[ WP ] Write a physical description of yourself as if you are a character in a piece of fiction .
|
He walked past me in the street, minding his own business, and I was spellbound, rendered mute by his majesty. He was a little on the short side, and skinny with it, putting me in mind of a terrier, and his clothes were the shabby, functional dress of the lifelong thinker, someone who would consider using a fashion magazine as back up toilet paper before he considered reading it. His hair was dark, long, and thick, parted off-center, with a wave in it, and framed his face imperfectly when it was n't getting in his mouth. Beneath it was a pale face with a nose that could charitably be called Roman in size, high cheek bones, and a rather feminine chin; with a little work, he could have passed for a woman, but as it was he was merely a bit pretty.
But his eyes... his eyes were the most captivating part. Deep, dark, brown, and clever, but distracted. Maybe one moment in a dozen they were watching the world, and the rest of the time they were unfocussed, staring at something in the middle distance only he could see. When he thought, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and I could have sworn I saw his mouth moving slightly as he turned ideas over and over and over, considering them from every angle.
I stopped, and, having not moved as his last check in on the physical world had predicted, he collided with me, sending us both sprawling. The frown broke, and was replaced with surprise, followed by a goofy giggle. He helped me up, stammering apologies in an unexpectedly high class English accent.
`` Sorry,'' he said, still smiling nervously, `` I was thinking about how to build a better spaceship toilet.''
Well, so much for mystery.
|
[ WP ] Write the letter that you always wanted to , but never did .
|
[ NSFW. ]
[ No seriously. Do n't read this if descriptions of rape or consensual sex with transpeople offend you. You've been warned. ]
[ But it's not just about sex, I promise. And it's true. ]
Hey, LGTBQ community, it's me, the one you rejected.
We had some good times. I remember when I first kissed you. You were a transman, really muscular and smart, and I thought there was no way you'd go for me. But you did. You got me into kink, too, and I discovered what it was like to be a submissive, to be owned by someone else. I remember the first time we had sex, my hands cuffed behind me, your silicone cock sliding down my throat. You took my breath away both literally and figuratively. I loved you. For a little while, you were my world.
And you taught me a lot. I remember when I got drunk with you one night. As it always did back then, being drunk reminded me of that party, a long time ago, when I got really drunk and a girl had sex with me. I do n't remember anything, but when I woke up naked the next morning all my friends were high-fiving me. They told me I had lost my virginity. You were the first ones to tell me it was rape, and you were right. I got help, and I'm doing a lot better. I do n't drink much any more, but when I do it's in moderation, and I do n't spend my tipsy time thinking about being raped. And that's in no small part because of you.
And you were there for me through some tough times. When I came out to my parents. I had tried to explain to them what a transperson was, but they did n't get it. They tried to be supportive but it's hard to be supportive when your son's going to hell.
But it seems like sometime, maybe a year ago, something changed. Maybe the social climate changed, or maybe the problems were there all along and I just started noticing them. The people who left when I came into a party because, `` I did n't know cis-men were going to be here,'' or, `` Let's move somewhere without male gaze.'' Literally just me walking into a room of people I've never met before, no interaction.
I remember the time someone told me I could n't know what it was like to be raped, and then when I told them I had been raped, they said, `` Well, it's not as bad for guys when you get raped. It does n't go inside you.'' It's still inside me.
I remember when someone was talking about rape and said it was about cis-men wanting power over other genders. And here I am, a cis-man who wants nothing more than to be dominated by a gentle transman, and I brought up that maybe rape is more complicated than gender and that sometimes women rape cis-men too. You said, `` That's a distraction.''
I could have brought up then that I was raped by a woman, but I did n't want to tell you that. I did n't think I should have to share my private experiences for my voice to be heard. I did n't know what to say, so I just apologized. I said, `` I'm sorry.'' I'm sorry the worst thing that ever happened to me distracts from your uncomplicated narrative. Apparently complicated is okay when you're talking about your gender, but it's not okay when we're talking about the gender of rapists and rape victims.
Someone told me I can be an ally, and pointed me to a website where I can learn to help teach other cis-men not to rape. Great. I came out to my parents so I could be a tolerated outsider, and have my role in the community defined for me.
The only reason I'm still talking to you is that you're my best option. Straight girls and gay guys are nice but then they want to have sex with me, which is okay, but kind of dissatisfying. If I talk to straight guys about this stuff, I either get polite highly sanitized, careful, and political answers, or they're absolutely batshit and believe women should be raped. My family and ( ex- ) church believe that women ca n't get pregnant from rape because their bodies would reject the baby. So there's really nobody I can talk to except you, and you're a mixed bag.
So often it's just better, like tonight, to sit at home and not talk to you or anyone. To just try to not hurt for a night. To go on Reddit and avoid TheRedPill and TwoXChromosomes and try to distract myself with cat pictures or maybe some stories on WritingPrompts.
Because I'm tired of being the one in the middle who actually has to live out the results of the national debate you're creating. And since I'm tired, I have to rest up, because tomorrow I'm going to go try again, to get on Fetlife and OKCupid and meet the dominant transperson who gets me. Because even though I'm afraid of how you will see me and treat me, I'm more afraid of failing and dying alone.
And the thing is, this is all really disappointing because sometimes you really are good. The best members of the LGBTQ community are brave, thoughtful, creative, kind people. People that I can talk to. People I could fall in love with, date, maybe start a family. I imagine the joy of obeying my dom, of doing the laundry and dishes, of killing spiders if they wanted me to, or letting them kill the spiders if they wanted to, of learning to tango as follow instead of lead, of discovering the million ideas and wonders that you discovered in your own independent life, and decide to share with me. And I really hope we can do that instead of you rejecting me because someone else who looks like me hurt you.
[ Final note. When I talk to the LGTBQ community in this post, I'm talking to a lot of people. Some of the people I'm referring to here, especially at the beginning, are really awesome people, who never did anything wrong to me. ]
|
[ WP ] Only one person can laugh at a time .
|
“ They say it ’ s like pure happiness. An expression of joy as we ’ re taken into the arms of God. ”
“ You ’ re not going to laugh, Dad. They ’ re going to fix you up and then you ’ ll come home. I ’ m sure all the nurses will miss you. ”
But he did laugh. It strikes right into your heart with a terrifying HA. I wish I could believe that he was happy for it. He did seem to be smiling. It sounds just like the laughs that the terrorists laugh, before they blow themselves up. Just like the laughs you see in the most dramatic parts of movies.
It ’ s just how your last breath escapes. They ’ re not really sure what causes it. You can ’ t really do tests. One moment they ’ re laughing. The next, they ’ re dead. There was a petition to do a study when they pulled the plug on a coma victim, but the backlash was insane. The governor and congressmen showed up, spinning their folksy wisdom.
“ Men just laugh when they die. It ’ s not a matter for science. ”
Two men died in the electric chair with the same pull of the switch. One laughed, then the other. Both died at the same second, but they didn ’ t laugh at the same time. Scientists are arguing as to what it means. They showed the footage on the evening news. I can ’ t stand to watch a man laugh.
There ’ s nothing more chilling than a child ’ s laughter.
|
[ TT ] [ WP ] The King has sent you , a wandering mercenary , to slay the Dragon and bring the Princess home . However , upon arriving at the Dragon 's Keep , you learn the Princess was not kidnapped , but instead is a runaway .
|
`` Listen, are you listening?'' she demanded.
My eyes darted away from the shimmering, mirage inducing ruby scales covering the impossible mass of angry dragon long enough to glance up and up and up at the slim blond girl sitting on it's shoulder.
``... oh yes, I'm listening.''
`` Well, listen- er what's your name again?'' she hesitated and glared down at me.
`` My name is-''
`` Nevermind, Listen!'' She took a deep breath.
The dragon snorted gently. The ground beneath my back rumbled and stones fell from the ceiling high in the darkness over head. I darted a glance at it's eyes. Slitted pupils, acid green and seeming to swim like a-
`` Mr. Pickles and I-''
`` What?!''
She shot to her feet and stomped once on the dragon's shoulder.
The pressure that had been pinning me to the cave floor did n't increase, did n't change at all, but I felt a needle of icy pain. I glanced down at the single claw lazily touching my breastplate. It was longer than my leg, curved like a hook and pressed against my skin through the armor my steel was supposed to offer.
I looked up at the dragon's enormous, inscrutable eyes. I took in the fiery pride of the girl perched on it's shoulder. I licked my lips.
`` Um... what I meant to say was'Excuse me, but who is Mr. Pickles, please ma'am?'''. The claw retracted with a shriek of tortured steel and I felt blood begin to trickle across my chest. The dragon's claw- talon- rested on my chest and tapped out a short tattoo on my breastplate. It left holes.
`` He's Mr. Pickles, STUPID!'' the girl shouted and pointed at the dragon. The dragon rubbed his neck against her entire right side as she spoke and the girl grabbed an outcropping of scale with a tiny fist to stay on.
`` Of course. My apologies.''
`` ANYWAYS,'' she huffed and blew dirty blonde hair out of her face and looked expectantly at the dragon. It sat on it's haunches studying me with naked curiosity with it's dark green eyes.
She looked at the dragon, then at me.
`` You're about to kill me, right?'' I managed to croak after a moment.
`` Mr. Pickles gets so hungry you know. And you DID break in.''
The dragon licked its lips and shifted it's shoulders. Sweat was already fleeing my body through every pore, but a different sort of sweat broke out on my upper lip and forehead.
`` I'd really rather you did n't.'' I tried to keep the self-pity out of my voice and it sounded pretty good.
`` I bet. Listen, you know how it is. Look at Mr. Pickles! See these wings?'' The semi-translucent, bat-like wings spread to their full insanity inducing span. Something snapped in my head. `` Nice, huh?'' she said with proprietary pride.
`` Yeah, I guess. I mean... you know. Well, I'd better not say.''
A sudden wash of sulphur smelling air burst around my face and neck made me bite back a scream. I felt burns form on my neck and face. A giant slitted globe of the palest green filled my vision. The pressure on my chest disappeared. A pale hand pushed the dragon's eye aside and stepped up to me, glaring suspiciously.
`` What do you mean'you guess'?!'' she shouted. `` Mr. Pickles is the best dragon EVER!''
`` Well, sure, I mean... no offense, Mr. Pickles, but how do you *know*?''
The dragon stepped a few paces away disinterestedly and with a casual breath cooked a section of the stone wall to melted, glowing goo.
`` SEE?!'' She shouted, `` just LOOK at him! You see that?! Hah! You sound just like my *stupid* dad!''
The dragon's neck rolled sinuously and I felt, literally felt, his irritated attention. *Somewhere else, * I thought, *anywhere else would be better than here. * The girl walked a calm circle around me. I did n't move, just kept laying there splayed out on the ground like a beached turtle.
`` Listen, my dad sent you did n't he?'' she asked imperiously. Apparently, you can be a dirty, barefoot thirteen year old and still be imperious if you're on top of a dragon.
`` That's right and-''
`` Hush, Listen!'' I opened my mouth and the dragon snarled. Until then I had been afraid, sensibly and rightfully afraid. When the dragon's teeth came out, I skipped terrified and went straight to scared shitless. My mouth shut on it's own.
The girl looked me up and down. She stopped by my feet and sneered at my old, stinking and ragged boots. She started walking again, circling me. The dragon's tail twitched into a boulder, which cracked into several pieces.
Her eyes met mine. `` Some knight you are. Look at you, all dirty and whatnot.''
`` Er, actually... I'm not a knight.''
She stopped and her jaw dropped.
`` Not a knight?''
`` Well, no...''
`` How come?''
`` It's a long story.''
`` Summarize.''
I glanced from the girl to the dragon and sighed.
`` OK, well. I, uh, came to the capital to train for knighthood- good money in it you know, solid employment and benefits and all- but apparently there are these written tests. Since I do n't know how to read-''
`` You WHAT??'' she laughed, eyes bright with scorn.
`` That's right,'' I said indignantly. `` Not all of us are born with kings for dads, you know. Not everybody can afford educations and such.''
`` Oh. Sorry.'' She said, lowering her eyes. The dragon looked away, somewhat sheepishly.
`` Anyway, they told me that sure I could be a knight but I just had to do this *one little thing* first. The captain of the King's Guard told me that you'd been kidnapped-''
`` Ha! Mr. Pickles did n't kidnap me, stupid!''
`` - that... look, do you mind letting me tell this story? It's hard enough, with the dragon and all, but with these interruptions...''
`` Of course, please continue'' she said and sat down cross legged on the sand beside me.
`` Anyway, he told me that you'd been kidnapped by a dragon and that I could be a knight if I brought you back.''
`` Listen, why'd you want to be knight anyway?'' she asked, tilting her head. Behind her the dragon mirrored the gesture.
`` Well, you know. After the wars, the fields were trashed. No work for farm hands. My family died when the sickness hit our homestead and since my girlfriend got killed when the village was burned, I figured I did n't have much to lose.''
`` Oh no, I had no idea! I'm so sorry!'' Tears welled in her eyes and she patted my knee sympathetically.
`` Eh, that's just how life goes. So anyhow, here we are...''
She coughed. I cleared my throat. The dragon curled up and began to lick between it's scales with a tongue so long and rough it could better be described as a prehensile tree trunk.
`` So-'' we both began, and at the same time stopped. Our eyes met and we both started laughing.
`` Listen,'' she said, `` I do n't think he's a bad sort. What do you think, Mr. Pickles?'' Mr. Pickles stopped, lifted his head, stared at me with a single eye and went back cleaning himself with a sound like steel on a grindstone.
`` Mr. Pickles thinks you're ok. You can stand up now if you want.''
`` Wait... so you're not going to kill me?'' I asked, hope drumming blood against my eardrums.
`` Nah, you're alright. Besides, it's not right to kill people if they're nice. And you seem very nice.''
`` Well, uh, thank you milady.''
She shuddered and twisted to her feet. `` Ugh. Do n't call me that. It's gross.''
`` It is?''
`` Oh yeah. I *hate* being called'*milady*' and'*highness*' and all that. I'm just Bess. Call me Bess.'' She smiled and I felt the dragons rumble of approval through the floor of the cave. I sat up.
`` Ok, Bess.'' I looked down at the inch wide holes the dragon had put through my breastplate. No great loss, had n't served the guy I'd found it on any better. I pulled it off and threw it aside. Bess had walked over to the dragon and was scratching his eyebrow.
`` Bess?''
`` Yes, Listen?''
`` Uh, why do n't you want to go home?''
`` Are you kidding? That place is so boring. Everyone always bowing and stuff. Nobody wants to *do* anything, they just want to *seem* like they do. I hated it. Then,'' she looked indulgently at Mr. Pickles who had rolled ponderously over onto his back and thrust his chin under Bess' hand, `` Mr. Pickles found me in the forest one day. We bonded instantly and I knew I did n't *have* to go back ever again. And I wo n't. You ca n't make me, you know.'' She looked at me defiantly again and the dragons eyes opened and focused sickeningly on mine.
`` Oh, I know.'' I said quickly.
`` Good.''
`` Yeah, so I think I'm just gon na get going now. Not much reason for me to stay, since I do n't want to be knight anymore.''
`` You do n't?'' Bess asked curiously.
`` Nah, it's not all it's cracked up to be.''
`` Really?''
`` Oh no.'Save the princess' they say.'Be a HERO', they say. Heh. No thank you.''
`` So... what are you going to do now?'' she asked, tilting her head to the side.
I looked at the girl, scratching the dragons chin as his eyes rolled back in pleasure and then looked out of the mouth of the cave.
`` Thought I might give adventuring a go. See a bit of the world, you know?'' and as I said it, I realized I meant it. Anything, anywhere would be better than what I just tried to do. Had to be easier, too. I stood up and turned around, heading to the mouth of the cave with something like shaky dignity.
`` Listen?''
I stopped and turned around.
`` Can we come?'' asked Bess in a small, shy voice.
I stopped and turned to face her.
`` Well of course you can come.''
|
[ WP ] You were a soldier in a future conflict , until your heroic death . Now you face the battlefield of the Ragnarok of Nordic myth , with your full war kit .
|
The children sat motionless, ready to hear the words from the grizzled ancient warrior. He cleared his throat with a hacking cough, he felt his existence slipping through his fingers as he began to speak. Hoping even immortality had its limits.
He began..
`` Suck on my fucking balls you dirty son of a bitch!
..not the best thing to scream as you first enter somebody's house. Mind you, in context, it was a valid retort.
Here I was standing in the middle of fucking Odin the..some kind of God.. fuck if I know? Guy was a fucking god though.. like for real! Fucking pair of crows on his shoulders and shit, eye patch, big ass magical spear an shit.. an here I was standing in his fucking Banquet Hall!
Swear to fucking baby Jesus, not the seconds before I had been in a bare knuckle goddamned brawl with a fucking Tronling! You know the big stinking ice beasts that tunnel all the way through the permafrost on Titan? Thing had fucking sprut up out of fucking nowhere underneath my squad. Ate two of my guys and started fucking gnawing on my greasy ass.. needless to say I gouged his fucking eyes out with my thumbs even while he had chewed through my torso.. hurt like fuck.. crushed it's damn skull before I blacked out though.. maybe? I was pretty mad.. might of blacked out.. swear to god though.. here I fucking was in like.. some fucking magical dinning Hall with all these weird bearded shitheads staring at me like I just caught em pissing on their mothers corpse.. surprised I guess to sum it all up. Not nearly as fucking surprised as I was, fucking fact.. surprised and fucking pissed!
So Odin comes wandering up like half gliding on air half walking. Magic bullshit or something? An he is just like, `` welcome!''..Right? `` Fucking what!?'' I said.
Cause ya know, I had no fucking clue who this shithead was, but whatever.. done is done. So he was all `` you are here to fight the final battle, la de dah, blah blah..'' whatever did n't care!
I mean do n't get me wrong I'm not dense I knew sure that this guy was the reason I was back in the flesh but whatever, did n't care. I was ready for death.. I had been. He took it from me.. I fucking hated him the fucking second I seen him.
As you all know.. the bad guys won.. or well they did n't fight anybody cause the dead did n't fight for Odin. That was me, I was the one who killed them. Right there, right there in his fucking house! He kept me from what I fucking wanted!
I was born on Janis ya know.. fucking twenty times the gravity of earth. All those little gods and dead guys in chainmail an shit, they lived their lives on earth level. They would have called me a giant on earth, on Janis.. I was short. Little shits had it coming!
I just wanted to be with Martha.. he lost his second eye and got his head crushed just like that fucking Tronling.
Every single goddamned one of them was a fucking pushover.. not one could come close to taking me out.. so..that's the story.
My own personal fucking hell.. I just wanted to see Martha.
Maybe I'll die yet.. like you?''
The children remained motionless, of course, they had been dead for mallinea, so motion was n't likely. In the eternity that is Vallhala they will remain motionless for many more. Forever frozen in the moment of their death. The same fate as the ancient warrior. He wept, as he had for generations, only wishing to be with his dead wife.
The corpses never fading, neither eternity or one man's longing.
Loki madly cackled with delight, as he once again watched the fruits of his labour slip more and more into madness.. soon he truly would transport this monster of a man into Vallhala to do as he believed he had done. Not yet though, no not yet, it was not time yet for the true final battle. Fenrir was not yet mad enough to be released on Father.
|
[ WP ] Every night in your sleep you meet a successful-looking future you who tells you what you should do the next day . So far your life has gone well indeed , but one day you fall asleep during the daytime . You meet a tired , disheveled version of yourself who begs you not to listen to the other .
|
“ Don ’ t do it. ”
For years I had been receiving visions. Visions of a brighter future. A future where the worries of today; famine, war, poverty, were nightmares relegated to obscurity. A world where every man, woman and child could live out their lives in peace and harmony, free from the uncertainty that plagued them, free from fear. A world where I could be happy.
“ Stop before it ’ s too late. ”
It started when I was five, the day my mother died, as I shuddered in fitful sleep. I ’ d woken in the to the sound of deep, heavy breathing. I ’ d opened by eyes and found myself face-to-face with a man, his hair streaked with white, his eyes lit with a deep knowing energy. Needless to say I screamed, I struggled, I tried to run. I couldn ’ t move. I blinked. He was gone.
The days went by, the months, and with each day came a night, and with each night came the nightmares, and with each nightmare I awoke to the same face, silent the save the sound of his breath. I started to believe I was broken, damaged. I told my dad and he laughed, returning to the bottle. I told my friends, pleaded with them to believe me, they thought me strange and abandoned me. I don ’ t blame them. I told my teachers, they sent me to a shrink, who diagnosed me with mild parasomnia brought on by anxiety. He was wrong.
Two years passed and the man started talking, telling me strange and wondrous tales. I lay there and listened, time immaterial in the darkness, to the path he put before me. At first I felt nothing but fear, but his stories pulled me in, designed as they were to entice and bewilder, simple in their execution but with a gravitas that I was unable to appreciate when I was so young. The tales he told, of great Kings, Conquerors that controlled the world, Knights that roamed far and wide performing deeds of good, finally helped me sleep.
Five years passed and I was no longer afraid. The man had been there for me, through the years, helping me through the night. His stories had been replaced by direct guidance, wise words whispered that gave me what my father could not. He taught me how to manipulate, what to say in every situation, how to succeed. I went from a waif, drifting through childhood from detention to detention, to the popular kid in school, beloved by all. I could do anything.
Fifteen years passed and the guidance now came with visions. The meaning was clear.
“ Do this and you will be great. ”
“ Do this and you will succeed. ”
“ Do this and you will get your heart ’ s desire. ”
His true nature was clear to me now, he was me. A wiser me. An older me. I became successful, starting my own company. I became driven, growing and expanding. I was a bright young star that could not be ignored, and being a star comes with opportunity. I grew wealthy, I grew powerful.
Thirty years passed and it wasn ’ t enough. I had ascended the corporate ladder, it wasn ’ t enough. I had run for office, it wasn ’ t enough. I ’ d started charities, helped people, and for awhile the work had sated me, but it wasn ’ t enough. The man in the dreams still came, but now he looked back at me in every mirror, the white streaks of hair that seemed so strange now a permanent reminder of who I ’ d become. I still listened, and still he guided, but the guidance had changed.
“ What are you missing? ”
“ When were you last truly happy? ”
“ There ’ s one thing you still need. ”
I had to get it.
Thirty-one years have passed and now I stand here on the precipice, the ice cold rain running down my body as I stare at the mound before me bathed in moonlight. He is here, different, true, but still a version of me, his clothes dishevelled, his face gaunt.
“ Please, this will be the end of us, stop. ”
I brush my hand over the stone, sweeping aside the vines and dust. The lettering worn but legible. “ Here rests Grace, loving mother to her son, wife to her husband, taken cruelly before her time. ” I raise my shovel.
|
[ WP ] You decide to become a serial killer . However , you turn out to be the worst serial killer in existence . Every time you try to kill someone , you improve their life .
|
Carl Thompson awoke to open the paper. On the cover Larry his legacy. Years of planning and preparation, all printed up into a single news article. THE ATLANTIC ALCHEMIST SAVES ANOTHER LIFE. It was the fourth one in his career. They did n't know he was intending to kill his victims but apparently poisons weaken in potency over the years and Carl suffered a few years of nerves before he actually tried killing his first.
Poison in their coffee every morning for a month. Unfortunately slow dose murder makes one feel ill. The kind if ill you seek a doctor for. And during their tests they discovered early stages of stomach cancer that would have proven fatal of not caught earlier.
The second and third was a couple he tried to kill via a house fire. Their doors and windows were locked by call to ensure no escape but a nearby cat caught in a tree saw to make the fire departments response time a record breaking minute and thirty two seconds. The couple were told of the jammed exits and they sued the landlord for endangering them. The settlement moved them to a better neighborhood and away from Carl.
Now this. A victim he was determined to see through to the end! He even left a calling card of sorts. The beautiful Emily Fallbrooke was his intended target. He got new poison, a knife, a gun. He want sure how he would kill her but he wanted her dead. He followed her towards her home and pulled her inro an alley to do the deed. Little did either of them know a group of thugs were following Emily as well to jump and possibly rape her. In self defense Carl shot and killed one man, wounded two and scared off a fourth. Had he killed someone, yes. Was it his choice? No. And then he panicked and told her his alias. Now he was being trumped as a vigilante proceeding others from injustices. He was a joke.
|
[ WP ] You find a copy of The Sims 5 at a used video game store . You decide to buy it and try it out . Slowly , unscripted and non programmed events start to happen . You realize that you 're actually controlling a real family .
|
Ethan couldn ’ t wait to try out the game - from what he ’ d seen of the trailers, the graphics were eerily realistic. Though Sims 4 had been good, it had never been *quite* realistic enough for him.
When he got home and popped in the CD, he began jotting out his plans for his first family. He couldn ’ t wait to get started. He built the house carefully: a pool surrounding them, a nice, roomy basement. A family of eight, six of them children.
At first, it was the same as usual. His sims' needs plummeted as he deprived them of food and sleep. It was fun, but not exactly anything new.
It was only when they started working together on their own, to escape the basement, that he begun to wonder. This wasn ’ t supposed to happen. One of the drawbacks of the game - they were just stupid, simulated people, doing exactly what he told them. Not like real people. *Real* people would act like this, would try to escape.
His hands trembled with excitement as he tried to direct them. Some - like the smallest children - obeyed, while others appeared to be screaming directly at him. One of the parents refused to attack his own children like he ’ d ordered, instead breaking down in tears on the floor.
There could only be one explanation.
“ You ’ re all real, aren ’ t you? You ’ re real, ” he whispered, leaning back from the computer as he considered the implications of this.
If they were real, did that mean he was God? He ’ d always suspected, but this was surely a sign…a signal. He turned his eyes on the sims again. Feverishly, lost in the dark world he had been afraid to imagine up to this point, he began to play in earnest.
-- -- -- -- -- -
“ I ’ ve got something, sir, ” agent Katherine Masters said, showing her supervisor the live feed of one of the webcams.
A pale-faced young man ’ s eyes were lit with joy as he tortured a family of eight.
“ Good job, Katherine, ” agent Daniel Simmons murmured, hastening over to check the feed for himself.
As always, he felt slightly nauseous as he watched the man ’ s enraptured expression.
Right from the start, the Sadism Identification Mechanism operation had been a massive pain in the ass to get approved and implemented. First there was the game ’ s development. It had been a long, tedious slog, to get the coding perfect - to make the sims behave as unpredictably as possible.
Then the marketing - its number of sales were crucial to their operation ’ s success. And above all, getting approval to hack into the players ’ webcams. It would be a disaster if details of the operation became public, even though they abandoned most of the feeds after a week. Watching someone direct their sims to go to work and make pancakes was hardly a good use of their resources.
But then there were others.
The ones who made the red tape and headaches worth it. The ones who proved that the game could be a revolutionary tool to catch some perpetrators early. Those who would likely move on from torturing highly realistic, simulated people - to real people.
“ You ’ ve got the address? ” he asked.
“ All his details, ” Katherine confirmed.
“ Keep watching him, ” Daniel said. “ We need more.''
Katherine started to reply, when they heard Ethan whisper something in a fervent tone, like he was praying.
“ You ’ re all real, aren ’ t you? You ’ re real, ” he said. Instead of seeming uneasy, the boy looked ecstatic.
“ Delusions, ” Daniel noted. “ Interesting. Focus only on him for now, Katherine. ”
She nodded, stifling a sigh. It was draining work, looking into these people ’ s eyes when they thought no-one was watching. It had already been a pain with the previous games. But somehow, the things she saw only got worse as the games got more realistic. People got increasingly carried away as they dreamt they could control actual people.
`` Yesss! I'm God!'' Ethan was whispering to himself as he drowned two of his sims in the pool, while another was consumed by flames in the kitchen.
Katherine made a note of that, shaking her head as she took a sip of coffee. The number of people who immediately jumped to *that* conclusion was rather disturbing.
-- -- -- --
Hope you enjoyed my story! You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/.
|
[ WP ] A demon who is really bad at his job keeps accidentally making the person he is possessing 's life better
|
`` Look, I tried my best. Standard routine. Seven deadly sins.
Start off with the easy one right, LUST. I get him to oogle this pretty girl walking passed, get all those immoral thoughts in his head you know. What does she do? Smile back! They start talking. Next thing you know, they're on a date. Now they're married. Yeah, I know, what are the chances right!?
So I think GLUTTONY. Get him nice and fat. Maybe it'll make this new wife divorce him. So I get him eating. And eating. And what does he do? He loves eating so much, he learns how to cook. Wife loves him even more. He's found some new hobby that makes him happy. And he does n't even go near McDonalds. The guy grows stuff in his fricking garden! Natural ingredients... organic... urgh, makes me sick.
Okay, so GREED. This is simple. Greed always works. He's got a quiet job, works hard, and is happy with what he has. So I get him to think big, think more, think about getting rich. I keep him up all night thinking about it. Until the next morning, he walks into work, straight to his boss's office, and tells him `` I want a raise''. Turns out, the boss loves this guy, but thought he was too soft for a promotion. Admired the balls it took to ask for a raise, and happy as anything, tells him he will be heading the new division of their company. Makes me sick.
So I'm getting scared now. SLOTH. How can sloth go wrong? He's meant to pick up his wife this evening right. So I get him really lazy. Get him to forget, fall asleep in front of the TV. Small thing I know, but I'm running out of hope. And sometimes the small stuff works best. Well she get's home, angry. Wakes him up. They have an argument! It's going perfect. They keep arguing. And then they start talking. And they have this lovey dovey moment where they forgive each other. And then they `` go forth and multiply''. This is n't how it's meant to work! Now they got a kid. They love him to bits. He's a cute kid, but this whole thing is going wrong.
WRATH next. WRATH is a hard one. It's not something you can work up easily in a person. It takes time, you need to set it bubbling. Like boiling water on a small fire, or blowing up a balloon. It takes time, but then there is a moment it all snaps. So I spend years working on this guy's wrath. Years. I'm playing the long game. I almost got him ready to blow. I'm just waiting to get the right trigger, whether it's the small cute kid he has running around his house, or his wife, or his old parents, I want to find something juicy. Well before I can get it right, something else happens. He's walking home from work late, and passing through a quiet road, he see's another demons project. A good guy getting mugged by a gang. Well, usually my guy would call the cops and leave it. But I've got him all wrath'ed up. And he snaps. Runs over, stops them, does n't even call the cops. He's shouting at them, eventually starts fighting one of them. The others run off, thinking this is all going pear-shaped. Cops arrive a bit later. Turns out it was all caught by some guy on his iPhone from his flat. Video goes viral. The man becomes a hero and suddenly everyone's talking about how we ca n't be bystanders anymore. I'm devastated. I mean this is years of work down the drain.
ENVY. I do n't even want to try this. I'm sick of it all. But it's next in the playbook. There are very few ways ENVY can go wrong though. You should n't want what others have, full stop, especially neighbours. Well I get him to start looking at his neighbour. He's retired, much older than my guy, spends all day gardening, playing with his grandkids, reading books. I make him envious of this guy's lifestyle, while he's at work most hours, barely sees his family, only the odd holiday. The key with envy is that it leads to discontent, which leads to frustration. It starts with the small things, you stop enjoying the things you love, you start complaining more, people stop enjoying your company. It's a disease, it ruins your relationships, your happy moments, keep you from enjoying what you have. Well, my guy decides he does n't enjoy his job anymore. That he wants to live a retired lifestyle, but he's mid thirties, so he ca n't. Except he did. He quit his job. Invests his money into a few different local businesses, and starts working two days freelancing instead. He has less money now, but he spends time more time with his kid and wife, and they have a new one coming, and he's all... happy.
PRIDE. I've already given up. What can PRIDE do when all six previous sins did n't work. But the Big Boss reminds me, PRIDE is the big one. When a person is happy, and has it all, PRIDE makes them think they're better than others, that they did it themselves. PRIDE is last because it's often a person's biggest downfall. Never give up on PRIDE. The difficulty is that you do n't know how PRIDE manifests. A person can die happy and proud, but it's enough to make him a horrible human being.
I'll never know if PRIDE has worked by the way. Not until he get's to the Pearly Gates and is told no. Still... a demon's got ta try''
|
[ WP ] To stay in Assassins Hotel you must assassinate someone in the hotel .
|
**This is a comedic post and less gory than you'd expect. Hope you enjoy! **
Walking inside the building, I could feel a huge pressure on me.
Mainly because I was carrying a huge backpack but that is besides the point.
So, this is Assassins Hotel. The infamous hotel only available to assassins who kill each other for a room in the hotel.
The stupidest part of it all is that I'm not even a trained assassin. Scratch that! I'm not even trained in laundry washing, let alone assassination. Though, the reason I'm here and not at a regular hotel is I ran out of money gambling on that damned monkey at the fair.
**I could have sworn he would have won in the shit throwing contest. **
**I fucking hate that homeless prick for winning. **
Anyway, I walked up to the attendant to ask if there were any rooms *without* assassins. And he said ``... are you kidding me? This entire hotel is booked. Sorry man but you'll have to kill someone.''
WELL SHIT. I'm totally going to die! And if I walk out now, I'll seem like a pussy. And a man ca n't look like a pussy unless he is a feline who would attack other people and not his fucking owner. I hate my ex-girlfriend.
Sidetracking again. The attendant gave me a knife that the lower half was in the shape of a key. The attendant expected me to kill high class assassins? DUDE I CAN BARELY KILL A DEER WITH A FUCKING CAR!
`` Thank you.''
... The hell did you want me to say? The attendant could've killed me without a sweat so I could n't have been a douchebag or I'd be chopped liver!
Or my liver would be chopped; same difference.
Well time to go.
I walk up to the elevator and it opens practically instantly. I saw a bunch of corpses being dragged out by an attendant. And I swear on my life I saw Beyonce. I KNEW SHE WAS IN THE ILLUMINATI!
`` Time to go..'' I think. So, I step into the elevator and press... `` which floor?''
I ca n't choose 1 because that'll be a blood bath. And I ca n't choose 20 because that'll be filled with the strongest. I'll have to choose... 14! 14s a good number.
That's when I saw a hulking man come walking to the elevator, looking like Attila the Hun. I fucked spammed the close button like the homeless man did with his shit. That's when a giant indentation of an axe came through the doors.
... sweet jesus this is going to be a fun night...
|
[ WP ] A story where all the dialogue is lyrics from your favorite song .
|
`` Hello'' I heard a muffled voice distantly making echoes in my head.
`` Is there anybody in there?'' There it was again, but it sounded louder and closer. Slowly, a figure started forming in front of me, it was blurry, but it was clearly a person.
“ Just nod if you can hear me ” The figure became closer, and clearer.
“ Is there anyone at home? ” I moved my head with great effort, it felt as if I was submerged in gelatin, it was so hard to make small movements.
“ Come on, now. I hear you ’ re feeling down ” I detected a bit of friendly sarcasm on its tone.
“ Well, I can ease your pain, and get you on your feet again ” Can it now? I tried to tilt my head towards his voice, interested.
“ Relax, I ’ ll need some information first. Just the basic facts, can you show me where it hurts? ” I felt like I was floating, nothing hurt, but there was a trace of it. I was tired, I felt the ghost of an excruciating pain, but now there was nothing.
“ There… is no pain ” I managed to articulate.
Suddenly, the figure started to vanish in front of me. “ …you… are receding ”.
My sight became a little clearer. I was floating in an endless sea “ A distant ship ”. I said to myself, was what that figure had turned into. “ Smoke on the horizon ” It made the illusion of stormy clouds, but somehow, I knew it was smoke, coming from the ship.
I felt the need of that presence again, it was… calming. “ You are only coming through in waves ”. I watched it come closer and closer again, until it became that human figure again. But this time it was different, its presence made me very sleepy and tired, it was hard to see, and I couldn ’ t hear anything.
“ You ’ re lips move… but I can ’ t hear what you ’ re saying ” I could only hear my voice inside my head, and then it came to me. I had felt this before. The figure was in front of me, standing over the water, watching me silently.
“ When I was a child, I had a fever ” I remembered. “ My hands felt just like two balloons ” I moved my hands in front of me so I could see them, and they were huge. “ Now I ’ ve got that feeling once again ”.
The figure was motionless and silent.
“ I can ’ t explain, you wouldn ’ t understand ” Then all of my body felt bloated, like I was wearing a heavy costume. “ This is not how I am ” It didn ’ t felt bad, but it felt somehow wrong.
“ I have become comfortably numb… ”.
“ Okay… ” I heard its voice again, as clear as crystal. “ Just a little pinprick ” A pinprick?
Suddenly, his arm extended with something pointy at the end.
“ There ’ ll be no more… ”
“ AAAAAHHHHHHHHH ”. I cried as the needle pierced my skin, it burned like acid, but then it settled.
“ But you may feel a little sick ” Then, I felt as if gravity planted me on the ground all of a sudden, I felt normal again, and I hated it.
“ Can you stand up? ” I realized my movements were fluid now. With some effort, I could stand in my two feet. “ I do believe it ’ s working, good ”
“ That ’ ll keep you going through the show ” For a moment I could see his face, he had an unsettling smile and big black eyes that looked at me as if I were a mere toy, just repaired.
“ Come on, it ’ s time to go ” He extended his hand as a white door opened behind him.
Then I saw something behind me. And I remembered again.
“ When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse, out of the corner of my eye ” I looked back to see nothing but emptiness. “ I turned to look, but it was gone. I can not put my finger on it now ”. I turned back to see the figure, with his hand still in front of me. I put a defiant gaze and tighten my fist. “ The child is grown… The dream is gone. And I have become… ”
I turned and started to walk towards the emptiness, until it started to turn into light.
“ …Comfortably Numb ”.
The End.
|
[ WP ] Humans have discovered the secret to high-speed inter-planetary travel . and it is the most stupid and ridicilous thing possible
|
Cutting Space
By ElSol69
`` No!'' I said.
`` It's your turn,'' the lead scientist on the project said as he nodded towards the airlock.
`` I did it last time!''
`` Okay, look… we got all the way out here, five light-years in a split second or two. We have to get back and so far we ONLY know that it worked with you.''
`` IT WAS A JOKE! I was drunk!'' I shouted looking at everyone behind him. They looked out the space shuttle portholes at the altered star view.
`` Whether it was a joke or not, we are far from home and we need to get back,'' he said. `` You need to get us back!''
I sighed, `` My ass is going to freeze.''
`` We'll have to alter the design of the space suit if this works again,'' someone behind the lead scientist said.
`` He was drunk before, maybe we should get him drunk again,'' someone else offered up.
We'd run out of beer, so that was unlikely. I frowned and put the space helmet on. They slammed the airlock door behind me. I bounced to the handles in the middle of the room and held on.
`` Opening the outer door!'' I heard on my helmet radio.
I waited until the door fully opened before I dropped my pants. Holding on as tight as I could, I prayed whoever aimed us back to earth had gotten it right.
I let one rip!
The shift was immediate, as if the distance between stars was flowing through me.
`` I see Earth! I see Earth!'' someone yelled over the radio. `` It worked! I ca n't believe it worked!''
When the outer door closed, I fell down to my knees. `` Dear God, please do n't let me be the only one!''
|
[ FF ] `` The weapon that won the war '' ( Feedback for every response . ) 400 words or less .
|
I am a human being. I have a wife. I have a child. I was born and raised by my mother and father in a small town. I am a person.
I am the man who wiped three thousand from the face of the earth.
The day it dropped. It was a beautiful day. Where I was, and where they were. It had to be a calm, windless, cloudless day there, so we could get maximum concentration, with as little collateral as possible. I think it was such a nice day here so I could know what it was like to wake up without any reason to worry, watch the children play, hear the birds sing, and have a knot of fear snarl in my stomach for no good reason.
Over there, it dropped at 3:00 precisely. No one realized it at first. At 3:15, it started to spread. 3:30, the first symptoms. A bloody nose for some, painful headaches for the rest. 3:45, most were bleeding profusely out of all mucus membranes, the blood pouring out uncontrollably. 3:50, they had bled out and starting the process of accelerated decomposition. At 4:00, their bodies had become dust. The wind picked up, and carried the particles west. Every living breathing human in that village was gone without a trace within the hour. Like they'd never been there. Like they'd never mattered.
I spent that hour sequestered in my office. I did n't come out for the rest of the night. I wanted to hide myself from the brilliant summer sun watching over me like the horrible eyes of god. I wanted to hide myself from human memory. I wanted to fade away until no one remembered my name. I wanted to remove myself from the equation, the cold math that had led to painful death for three thousand people I'd never met half a world away.
At 9:00, the White House called. They congratulated me, said what I'd done was painful, but worth it. Said I was a hero. I must have said something in return, but I ca n't recall what exactly.
After the call. I sat quietly. I tried to clear my head, stop the buzzing in my skull. I went to my child's room. I watched as he slept. I counted each rise and fall. He turned over fitfully, then returned to peaceful slumber. All throughout, I told myself that I was doing if for him. I would free him from a world of war and hate. Now I realized, I'd cast a shadow of him. The shadow of disease, spreading across the world and consuming it. The shadow of his father, the destroyer. The shadow of hungry nations, profiteering and pounding their chests, right up until the end. Now, he would never be free.
|
[ WP ] All wounds , no matter how minor , leave permanent scars . One day you meet someone with no scars .
|
`` Look at This one here!'' Boasted James, as he scrunched the back of his shirt up to his neck, showing a long and bumpy reddish brown scar running from the lower back corner of his spine up to his right shoulder blade. `` Got this one when I was 12, tried to save a cat in the middle of the road.'' A small voice interrupted `` Shut up James! No one believes your bullshit stories anymore.'' It was Treavor, a small boy, who weighed about 100 pounds on a good day. `` Maybe we would believe it if we were 13 still, but were 18 now, and we are about to graduate. You seriously need to grow up.'' James shot back, almost instantly, `` Lets see your scars then Treavor, where are yours?'' Treavor paused `` I.. I have to go'' and immediately ran out of the classroom and to the bathroom. Locking himself in the last stall, he sat down on the toilet and pulled his feet onto it so no one could see them. He immediately heard the door swing open and smash the wall, and the wind from it sent a chill up his spine. `` Lets give you your first scar, Treavor. Everyone else has them, and your perfect skin deserves one too.'' Treavor trembled as he could hear James kicking open stall after stall, and he was closing in on his. He reached into his pocket, and found a nothing but his keys. Quickly, Treavor put the keys between his knuckles as some sort of weapon, but realized that it was only going to hurt him more than anything. `` I'll show you a scar'' Treavor said to himself. James kicked open the last stall, he saw Treavor laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, with long gashes crossing one of his wrists. `` Are you happy now, James?'' Stammered Treavor, as he faded away into the darkness.
|
[ WP ] In a world where all shops only sell two items randomly assigned by the government your shop has recoeved the worst possible combination , but you 've got to make it work .
|
`` Tooth paste and orange juice! Get your tooth paste and orange juice here!'' I shouted out. The shoppers shot me dirty looks, clearly not wanting either. But who would, anyways? They could just go get it from Jim's, who sold orange juice and grape juice. I huffed and began to shout again, receiving more and more dirty looks. Really tough day today, I thought. Normally we sell at least one thing. Suddenly, that's when an idea came to me. `` OOOTH JASTE AND TRANGE PUICE HERE! GET YOUR OOTH JASTE AND TRANGE PUICE!'' People shot me curious looks, wondering what oooth jaste and triange puice was. I smirked and shouted out more, causing a group of kids to come by. `` What's oooth jaste?'' One of the kids asked `` Why, oooth jaste is just like tooth paste, but it makes your teeth much much whiter!'' The kid, having extremely yellow teeth rushed inside and bought some `` oooth jaste''. Another one of the kids came up to me `` What about trange puice? What's that?'' I chuckled softly and ruffled her hair `` It's just like Sunny D! Except, higher in sugar and Vitamin D! The girl smiled and rushed in with the rest of the kids, wanting a taste of this `` trange puice'' I smiled to myself softly. I did it, I thought. I finally sold more than one thing in one day.
|
[ WP ] The narrator has a huge crush on the protagonist . It 's really starting to creep the protagonist out .
|
*Littleton is more or less what it sounds like: a little town. It's not a very exciting place, which only makes it even more perfect for a set-up involving strange and quirky characters. The population is 924, and most people know each other by name. They're all boring and lame, though, so I'm going to skip to the good part. *
*Ah, Annie- the kind of woman you ca n't help but stare at. Her beauty is unmatched; her smile so vibrant. That dark brown hair, those deep, blue eyes and soft, pale skin are unrivaled. How I'd love to gently caress her cheeks and wrap her in warm embrace... *
`` Umm, excuse me? That's a little weird, buddy. Come on, cut the bullshit and introduce me already. I'm literally just sitting here pretending to eat a bowl of quinoa, waiting for you to start the damn story so I can continue my day,'' Annie snapped at the air, frightening her cats.
*Oh, uh, right. Sorry, Annie- actually, I'm going to call you by your full name, Sarah-Anne. I love the way it makes me feel like I speak with a silver tongue, even if just for a moment. *
`` Ugh, do n't call me that. I hate the name'Sarah-Anne', it's like I'm being called downstairs to go milk the family cow. My name is Annie.''
*Oh, okay, sorry love- I mean, sorry Annie. So, Annie was-*
`` Wait, excuse me? What did you just say to me?''
*Um, nothing. Please, let me finish the introduction. I'm stuck here until it's over and I need to pee really badly. *
`` No, you little shit, you called me'love'. You do n't even know me!''
*Well actually, I'm a third person omniscient narrator, so I know you better than you know yourself....technically... *
`` That's really disturbing, dude. Like I feel so violated right now.''
*I... yeah, well I did n't ask to be able to see into your head, did I? It's a weird place, SARAH-ANNE, all you think about is playing with bats and watching Yu-Gi-Oh with your cats. You're falling in love with some asshole at school, when nice guys like me are stuck here in this dimensional shift narrating your life. *
`` Wh- That has n't happened to me yet! You're spoiling my own life to me! And if you insult my Yu-Gi-Oh, I will destroy you. Also, I'll have you know that bats are *extremely* cool, with their little wing-butts and inability to eat grapes properly. Hey, screw you! Stop reading my mind!''
*I literally ca n't stop while I'm here, okay? I'm going to make this quick, god damnit. SARAH-ANNE is a... nice looking young lady that I TOTALLY DO N'T LOVE, and she lives in a town and weird, quirky shit happens....and... whatever, your mother is calling you downstairs to go milk the cow. Can I leave now? Damn it, Bob, let me leave this place. She knows I'm here! She's just thinking about how creepy I am! I swear, Bob, I'll piss all over the seat here if you do n't let me get out of this place. Wh- Ew, Bob! She has a piss fetish! I'm leaving. *
|
[ WP ] Almost everyone develops a superpower sometime before his/her 15th birthday . The later the power develops , the stronger the ability . You have not yet developed your power and today is your 18th birthday .
|
*SMASH*
I cried out in pain as I was slammed into a wall of red bricks. I hunched forward and coughed, spitting out red blood onto the gray pavement. I was supposed to have a relaxed day today it was the day before my birthday. My only plans were to chill and hang out with Carolina. That would have to wait… The roses I had bought laid forgotten on the wet pavement the heavy rain making a soggy puddle of blood and water for them to drink. There was a perfect circle burned out of my shirt and a patch of burned skin underneath. Lightning flashed and revealed the grim face of Deathpoint, staring and unmoving from his position. He wore black. A shirt, spread tight across his large and strong chest. Pants, loose but not baggy. And to top it all off a fluttering, silver cape. His right hand was outstretched with two fingers extended and the rest curled in the shape of a finger gun.
“ I won ’ t ask again kid. Reveal yourself now or I ’ ll actually try... ” Deathpoint was one of the most powerful of the Epics, the organization of elite heroes. Being an Epic was an honor and a privilege only bestowed to the most powerful and brave heroes. Deathpoint was one of them, fighting evil alongside my father. But he felt cheated and used deception and trickery to slaughter them all one by one. My father, Steelheart was the only one who came even close to matching his strength. But killing his brother… that ’ s something my father couldn ’ t do. Deathpoint didn ’ t share his sentiment. Now he ’ s found me and he ’ s going to kill me.
*BOOM*
Another shot and I was through the wall, certain I broke some ribs. The skin on my chest was seared off now in a perfect circle and I was thrown into what looked like a large warehouse. My breaths became more labored as I coughed up more blood. “ Please… don ’ t kill me I don ’ t have any powers! ” I hated this man with every fiber of my being but challenging him was suicide. The setting sun eclipsed his large form as he levitated though the hole he made and landed a few feet away. He smirked lecherously, “ You have your father ’ s blood. There ’ s no doubt you ’ re special. So cough it up kid... Whatcha got for me? ”
*It ’ s now or never! Brandon Steelheart will not fall today! C ’ mon think! Maybe I have super strength like dad! I have to try! * With a screech I hope sounded intimidating, I ran at him at full speed, delivering a right hook to his chiseled jaw…
*plonk*
“ AAAAH!! HOLY F**K ” I fell onto my knees at his feet, clutching my broken and mangled hand. It felt as if a speeding train had crashed into my fist. “ Do not insult me child! ” He gripped my throat tightly and lifted me up off the ground, “ Are you worthy of death by my hand or should I leave you to the dogs? ” His cold black eyes bore into my soul, poorly illuminated by the yellow street lamps. My left hand desperately clawed and beat at his arms, but it felt like punching a tree stump. He began squeezing and crushing my throat slowly. That ’ s when panic truly settled into my heart, when fear clouded my mind.
A voice shouted in my mind. Several actually.
*HE DOESN ’ T DESERVE THAT POWER*
*TAKE IT FROM HIM*
*STEAL IT! HE IS NOT WORTHY! *
*SNAP*
I later found out that was the sound of my neck breaking.
“ What a shame… I ’ m a villain with no one to stand up or oppose me this is a must bo- “
All the streetlights on the block exploded, plunging the musty warehouse into darkness.
“ You…
Are…
Not…
Worthy. ”
“ What the f**k? What the hell? You ’ re dead! ”
I rose slowly to my feet, my eyes shining a milky white though the darkness, my neck at an odd angle. The look of shock and fear upon his face was almost enough to satisfy my thirst for revenge. But not quite. “ Those not worthy of the power bestowed upon them, shall not have any. I have seen your evil ways and have deemed you unworthy of the power you wield. ”
Deathpoint ’ s face contorted into a snarl and he pointed his gun hands at me and attempted to fire.
“ **NO** ”
His hands and arms twisted and broke in a gruesome fashion, seemingly without cause. I walked towards him slowly, grabbing my face and twisting my neck back into position. He was crying now, tears flowed freely from his face. “ No please! Don ’ t take them! THEY ’ RE ALL I HAVE! ”
I stopped in front of him. “ I don ’ t care. ” I rest my thumb on his forehead and my other hand on his heart. “ This is going to hurt… a lot. ” With my eyes closed I look up at the sky as thunder clouds form above me. I feel the pull of my powers and his, when suddenly, lightning falls from the sky and strikes us.
When I opened my eyes again, they weren ’ t milky white anymore. I ’ m standing much taller, all my injuries and broken bones have healed. I feel… changed somehow as if I ’ ve finally realized what my purpose is. I ’ ve also been given understanding. On how to use both mine and Deathpoint ’ s powers. I now have longevity, invulnerabity, super strength, flight, the power to fire psionic bullets from my fingers. But most important of all. I have the burden, no, the responsibility, to take from the unworthy the powers they abuse. I look down at the figure of an old man, too weak to even stand, moaning in pain. “ Who… are you? ” My eyes shone with pride and a cool fury, “ I… am the new Steetheart. And I just kicked your ass. ”
|
[ WP ] You have been sentenced to 300 years in prison . The catch is that you are an immortal being .
|
I spent the first thirty days of my sentence freaking out. I mean literally, going insane. The prison was a small room, no more than 10 feet, with stone walls, moist with condensation, 3 solid walls of stone.. and one that did n't exist. There should have been a wall there but there was n't. Instead there was a space, and that space overlooked the sky, and the clouds, as far as I could see. I remember from that time walking over to the edge and peering off for the first time, `` what kind of prison..'' I remember that thought. What kind of people create a prison where freedom is as easy as jumping? Surrounded by freedom, but completely unable to grasp it. The concept in itself was laughable. Was it sadism or was it poetic justice?
Whatever it was, by the hundredth year it had erased me.
The first hundred years were the hardest. They'd bring food to me everyday, whoever `` They'' were. The people, the bird people, god knows what they were or who they were. They brought rocks of salt that they'd place through a slot on the door. It was strange, it offered no sustenance, no value, but the variation gave me some reminder of what it was to be alive, to be free.
I remember realizing, then, that there is a difference between participating in life, in all it's variety, and witnessing it, in its totality.
Staring out at the shifting clouds, day, after day after day, I became proficient at the second one.
I used to have dreams at that time of a ladder, scaling down from the open wall that overlooked the sky. I'd look below at the peaks of mountains, and sometimes through the clouds i'd see valleys, and streams, vales, and flocks of birds. But it was all so far away.
I'd sleep and dream of a ladder, that i'd somehow built, or perhaps it had been placed, in my dream i'd descend it, but I never made it farther than beginning the descent before i'd awaken, stirred, and disappointed, sometimes depressed, sometimes filled with a red rage. But eventually both polarities gave way to an acceptance, and gradual stoicism, and it was like my ability to observe, to understand things had begun to grow, despite there being nothing but the openness and infinity I found myself involved in to urge my growth.
It turns out, all living things have a certain will to power, to expand, no matter what situation you put them in, and this was no different. I naturally found myself becoming more observant and I realized, about those stone walls, about the valley itself and the sky, and the peaks of those mountains, and the sun hidden behind the clouds,
All of it was empty. Every part of it was empty.
And the more I noticed this, the more I tasted it. The more I dreamt it, and my dreams met it as I slept. I never awoke, and I never slept, the line between myself and this emptiness was blurred beyond distinction - I was empty, and the prison was not a prison anylonger, but an openness,
The prison never changed, but I changed.
As the days went by, I felt myself overwhelmed with new experiences, Joy, like i'd never felt.
It felt as though my spirit was revolutionizing, becoming reinvented by my new understanding.
I found myself gayly touching the stone walls, their stone was rough, but calming, my body would correspond, it was absolute joy to exist, even in such a space. I'd periodicially cheer, i'd moan with sexual pleasures, I'd laugh at my myself.
After a hundred years I was far past any state of self consciousness.
The prison became my palace. Only I knew it's music, only I knew it's dance.
Only those that could endure the prison with me would ever hear the music.
I never really left that place.
|
[ WP ] A man is banished to the wilderness for 20 years . Write his diary entries for his first and last days of exile .
|
Day 1:
I ’ m staring into a fire. Surprisingly. When the escort first dropped me off, ditching me along a cracked, overgrown highway, it was probably noon. They didn ’ t leave me with much, but I managed to get some flint and magnesium smuggled into my cell last night. It took me a while to find a place that didn ’ t seem ripe and open, calling for unwanted attention. It was almost dark by the time I gathered the firewood. I was sure I would end up spending the night in the dark forest, a shuddering, stupid-cold, scared old man. Somehow I got a flame going. I have food tonight. A few cans, along with the canteen of water. Nothing else.
Day 11:
I find myself thinking about the Tenby Guard more and more. Ironically, the skills I learned as a young soldier keep me alive now. When I was in the Tenby Guard, we would go out ranging for weeks – even months, on rare occasions. We always lived off the land where we could. I no longer have the strength I once did, but my muscles remember.
I rarely thought about those days as I grew older, but I was not surprised when they arrested and banished me, not after all the people had heard. I accepted it from the beginning. Even during the trials, I never really thought about it. All those horrible things that happened – it feels like they happened to someone else. I didn ’ t do those things. I ’ m just an old man. I know I did, but that ’ s how it feels.
Day 23:
I remembered something today. Something I haven ’ t thought about in a long time.
Gulfcrest. Of all the crimes the people raved about, Gulfcrest was cried the loudest and most often. Those days are all a haze to me, but today I recalled one of the incidents that happened during the battle.
We had been raiding Gulfcrest ’ s lands for weeks. We found their defenses lacking, but they always burned their own crops and supplies before we could get them. We were all suffering ourselves then, many of us sick with fever and hunger.
We finally assaulted their main settlement, taking many casualties ourselves. We spared few when we finally overcame them and we took everything.
I remember blood and screaming. Drunkenness. The actions of men who have endured the extreme. Gulfcrest had surprisingly little in the way of supplies and food. They had been picked apart by raiders for decades, with few stores built up. In our anger, many of us took it out on the survivors.
Now people condemn us, the people of Tenby. We suffered for them. Even after the battle of Gulfcrest, we sent what little we took back to the city and its starving people. We took almost nothing for ourselves. Now the city flourishes, preserved through desperate times by men like us. They survive because of us, and now that they have wealth and food and luxury they discard us for what we did.
It was a long time ago, but I can see it more clearly now. I have little else to do out here other than contemplate the past and the future.
Day 597:
Tenby lays before me now. I have spoken to General Mills and we have decided we'll move on the city tomorrow. I first met Mills in the Tenby Guard. He and I were some of the first to reunite and find each other in the wilderness, and it was he and I who first began to spread our influence in the lands surrounding the city.
I wonder if they realize who lies at their door. They threw us out, many of us in our fifties and sixties, the hundreds who had served this city, for what we did. We have come back to them. They should have killed us. Now we lead other men into battle, men we have turned into soldiers. We have not forgotten how to sack a city. I will fight here myself. Mills gifted me with an M1 carbine he discovered. I will put it to good use.
Day 599:
Tenby weeps. I have come home.
|
[ WP ] [ TT ] Women no longer give birth to their own children . Instead they pay and are matched with a healthy and suitable 18F surrogate .
|
The dropping fertility rates from the destruction of the ozone layer had become one of the largest issues on the planet; even greater than the pollution which had been solved with the development of fusion technologies and advancement voltaic cells. Populations across the globe were starting to die off though, in what was feared to be the end of humanity. We'd dodged one of the bullets which we had fired at ourselves long ago... only to step into the path of another.
Children were precious now; and social reforms had already taken place to reflect that. My mom tells me of a time when abortions were legal, and people actually gave birth to people with birth defects like Down and Edwards Syndrome. There's no room for people like this in our society anymore, everyone must be able to properly serve our country to the fullest. People are getting desperate though, and women over 25 are having an exponentially larger number of complications making it almost impossible for them to carry a child to term. All 18 year old girls like me need to be act as a surrogate for three child now to ensure the human race can continue on. The problem is, I'm already pregnant.
|
[ CC ] A childhood classmate of yours is deaf . You enjoyed bullying her . Now that you are older , you feel guilty . You meet her in college .
|
Not really my bag, but I can see the appeal this would have for others. I think there are a few too many needlessly manipulative details that actually take away from the overall effect, and the premise itself feels off. This guy walks up to a girl in broad daylight, makes fun of her, then shoves her into a ravine where she almost dies. Sure, he goes in there to get her out, but if someone pushed you in front of a moving car and then called an ambulance, would you look at him as your hero or, at most, as someone who is n't a complete and total asshole? I just ca n't buy it. But I think, with a few alterations, it could still work.
On the technical side, there are a few issues. Not a whole lot in terms of blatant grammar problems, but some odd formatting ( which you can just call style if you want because that's obviously the intent ), mixed-up tenses, misplaced sentences, etc could be worked on if you're so inclined.
I'm just leaving this general feedback because you did n't ask for specifics. If you want, I can go through and give a more detailed critique.
|
[ WP ] Satan is a single father trying to raise his son , who , in a rebellious phase , is all into peace , love , and harmony .
|
Beelzebub! For fuck sake, stop being so polite to people. It makes me want to puke my unholy guts out. Who taught you this? Where are you getting this from? You need to start insulting people and treating them like shit more. This is how it works down here in the blazing inferno.
For example, here comes Hitler. I'll show you how its done.
HEY HITLER, YOUR FACE LOOKS LIKE A SQUIRREL TOOK A SHIT ON YOUR LIP AND THEN JIZZED ALL OVER YOUR HAIR!
Nein! said hitler.
See, this is how we roll down here. Now you give it a go Beelzebub. There goes Osama Bin Laden. Dad, I do n't think this is such a good idea, said Beelzebub. He has n't been in a good mood since finding out that murdering thousands of innocent people is in fact not how you get into heaven. Who gives a shit son, we're already in hell. There's nothing he or anyone can do, said Satan. Ok, fine I'll give this a shot, said Beelzebub.
HEY BIN LADEN, I SAW YOUR MOM DRIVING A CAR YESTERDAY!
Alright, not bad son.
|
[ WP ] Ethics are for those who fear failure and need an honorable reason to retreat
|
In the car roaring its engines as Metallica blasted on the sub-woofers as loud as it could, I was feeling the hold of scotch and weed and whatever else blooming from a buzz into something lovely.
`` Kid, ethics are for those who fear failure and need an honorable reason to retreat,'' my partner said next to me. `` So blaze this road up.''
Out the smudged window was the rival that we were supposed to... Rival? Shit, this stuff is strong. Where was I?
`` Man, are you out of it.'' the partner said. `` Here'' he handed a small pill, `` you'll fucking need it.''
I popped the red pill into my mouth, and downed it in a gulp of a second bottle of scotch. Shit, if there was something needed to wake me up from a coma it was that stuff; and the road and the car and my partner morphs into variation of orange and blue, some of it phasing through me, and into the beyond. Like the back seat.
`` What was that stuff?'' I said.
`` I do n't know, just picked it from this bag.'' my partner said, lifting up a large bag of multicolored pills with a fading label drawn in sharpie.
`` Jesus Christ Man!'' I said, `` That's my ADHD pills! Are you trying to kill me or something?''
`` Shit man, I did n't know. But did it work?''
I looked at the road, and there was congealed lights stuck to it and a fucking purple elephant.
`` Goddamn it man, I'm seeing elephants.'' I said. `` And they're fucking purple.''
`` No... I see them to.'' He said.
The elephant was on the middle of the track and then slowly the legs began to lift and wings spurn from them and it sort of... hovered away.
There was a knock on the window. A short faced man with some buck teeth and nerd-rimed glasses from those high school movies and the mid-west yelled at us something incomprehensible. I rolled the window down.
`` Are you ready or what?'' the man yelled, his oddly shaped forehead resting on the cars roof.
`` Yeah, just about.'' I said.
`` Good.'' he said, and gave the car a light smack,'' HE'S READY, THEY'RE FUCKING READY, LET'S GET THE SHOW ON THE ROAD!'' Christ, is this what a man looks like when he still is going through puberty at twenty.
A little woman walked between the two cars, and with a little wave of a small flag, sent us on the way. The car purrs like a cat when its racing, the evening sun blares down on the windshield, my partner is yelling in excitement and he's spitting as his entire body starts rocking:
`` BlAZE THIS FUCKING ROAD! YEAH BABY, YEAH! EAT THIS COCKSUCKER, EAT THIS!'' and he collapses into a laughing fit that does n't end until I make our first turn.
Jesus Christ, man. This shit is intense.
`` REMEMBER MAN, FUCK ETHICS, FUCK EVERYTHING, FUCK YEAH MAN, FUCK YEAH!''
And in that moment, I could face everything, the road was ahead, the car was racing, my heart was exploding, I have reached the edge.
|
[ EU ] In a corner of Hyrule , one man has the bright idea of starting a pot-repairing business .
|
Guyver, old and portly, waddled over and placed the freshly glued pot on the counter with a satisfied smile.
`` There you are! Now, perhaps you should be a little more careful next time'' he said to the customer with a chuckle.
She narrowed her eyes; `` I *am* careful. It makes no difference when that green menace is around. In he comes, whirling and tumbling, waving that sword of his, then off he disappears with *my* rupees!''
`` Speaking of which...'' he eyed the large woman's satchel, she begrudgingly handed him a red rupee.
`` You know, some say the green menace is doing us a service, protecting the Kingdom from the-''
`` I do n't care what he is doing or why! He's a nuisance and a thief, though I am sure his wanton destruction does not bother you one bit!'' She sniffed, and exited the little shop in a huff.
That was the last pot repair of the day. Guyver took a moment to admire his shelves, stacked high with pots of different shapes and sizes, all ready for collection. Some beautiful and ornate with gold trim, some small and modest, but all shared one thing; once broken, now repaired.
The green menace coming to the quiet little town had certainly been a windfall for him, enraged families queued outside his quaint little shop, piles of broken pots filled their arms and piles of rupees filled his pockets.
Humming happily to himself as he pottered to the workshop, stacks of broken pots towered high above his short stature, shards big and small covered the floor like a pointy porcelain carpet.
*Many more pots to repair*, he thought, *and many more rupees to collect*.
His eyes spied the large chest in the corner of the room, twirling his curly brown mustache in anticipation he shuffled over. With one big heave it was open, and the brilliant bright dazzle of thousands of rupees greeted him.
`` Hello shiny little friends!'' he said gleefully as he dropped the bright red rupee into the chest. It joined the others with a light *plink! * and Guyver chuckled again, his little round face lit up by the glow of his treasure.
The sound of a small creak interrupted his chain of thought, nervously he glanced around the room, but there was nothing there. With another big heave he closed the wooden chest, and made his way upstairs.
A warm glass of Lon Lon milk, and Guyver was tucked up in his little round bed. Sleepily, he thought of all the careful gluing he would do tomorrow, and how much fuller his wooden chest would become.
The next day was like all others, customers dropped off and collected their pots, and Guyver had happily hummed and whistled to himself the whole while. As a treat, he decided to go to the nightly auction house. Armed with a bag full of his precious rupees he made a silent oath to himself that he would buy that beautiful piece of heart he had so been wanting. The auction was over as quickly as it began, and like his disgruntled customers, many left the auction house grumbling as Guyver carried his piece of heart home. Won for a record price of just 50 rupees as most of the townsfolk money was tucked away safely in Guyvers chest.
Another glass of Lon Lon milk and he was sound asleep, the piece of heart placed proudly above his bed. But as Guyver was dreaming of rupees, red, blue, green and silver, the shop door creaked slowly open.
The sound of hushed steps making their way to his workshop did not wake him, nor did the loud `` Hyah!'' that cried out, as one of his carefully repaired pots smashed to pieces. But what did wake him from that deep slumber was a loud fanfare of victorious sounding music, he shot out of bed and waddled quickly down to the workshop, images of his rupee dream fast disappearing.
`` No, please do n't!'' he said with a soft cry.
A young blonde boy held a pile or rupees above his head. He was dressed strangely, a green tunic and a pointy green hat.
`` The green meance!'' he spluttered, hands waving wildly.
The boy was looking overjoyed at his find, but his face turned sombre when he saw the tears welling up in Guyvers eyes. Before the boy had a chance to speak, Guyver shot upstairs, whimpering softly to himself all the way. He returned quickly though, holding the piece of heart he had won just hours before.
`` Here!'' he cried. `` Please take this, smash all the pots, just leave my rupees, please!''
The boy looked at Guyver, then the piece of heart, and again at Guyver. He carefully set the stack of rupees back into the chest and took the piece of heart from him. Another, even more triumphant fanfare sounded, and the boy grinned happily, Guyver did too.
He went to thank the boy, but in a blur of green and blonde he whizzed out of the little shop. The following day he would discover that the boy had left the town altogether, onto the next stage of his noble quest.
From that day, never again was a pot purposefully broken. The town's people were overjoyed as their rupees were no longer pilfered and their belongings were no longer broken.
Though Guyvers shop was quiet now, he did not mind one bit, as his workshop was empty from shards of broken pottery, his wooden chest was still stuffed with rupees, and his belly was still full of Lon Lon milk.
|
[ WP ] `` Do you still think about what you did ? ''
|
I drummed my fingers on the mahogany desk I'd gotten a few years back, thinking about something an old friend of mine had said. We'd been at a reunion of the battalion from The War a few weeks ago, the 117th Pennsylvania, and I was with a couple old squad buddies, when my friend, Ryan, asked me about...'' The Thing'', as we described it oh so ominously, so as not to think too much about it, `` Do you still think about what you did?''
It was Northern France, May 1918. We had been in the trenches a few weeks, having been shipped there in February, and three days after we'd gotten off the boat, we saw service for the first time. Now, it was May then, with the trees blooming, the air being warm and pleasant, and such other poetic shit. We were in a small village near the Belgian border, where my squad, with Ryan, Michael, and O'Sean were patrolling in the wee hours of the morning, where we noticed a small light coming from one of the scnt few undamaged buildings there. This village, i cant remember the name of it, went back'n forth every couple or weeks, and this building was n't occupied by any of our men, so we went inside, and saw a... I hesitate to call it a man, but more of a young boy in a German uniform, sleeping away. We looked at each other, and I knelt down, unlatched my bayonet from its scabbard, and quietly guided it into the kids gullet. We all felt a bile in the back of our throats as I did this, but we knew we had to do it. So when Ryan brought it up, it got me thinking about the kid. He had so many opportunities, so many chances, yet he lost them all when I slid my knife into him.
`` Alex, are you alright?'' My assistant, Nancy Hedgins, asked me. I'd met her in'20, when I was setting up my agency, and helped me out. Its been 7 years since then, and we've strictly kept our relationship work-based. That is n't to say there have n't been escapades...
Anyway, I askedher, brushing off her comment, `` I'm alright, just thinking about something. You got a few leads on a case for me?''
`` Yeah, bit of a creepy one. Turns out someone's found a few more bodies near the U.S. Steel Mill. These had a letter with them, addressed to you.'' She said, handing him a slightly bulky letter that had an off-white color to it, along with his name, Alexander Dunois, on it. I opened it, to reveal immediately the words that stopped me in my tracks, `` From One Soldier to Another''. My hands shook a little as I unfolded the letter, and I read it, for thirty minutes in silence as Nancy got me my cup of coffee with creme and sugar, which is n't what you expect from a hard boiled detective, but we've all got our own little personal delights.
As I finished reading the letter, I quietly asked her, `` Nancy, do you... remember-''
She knew what I was thinking about, and replied quickly, `` Yes, I do. And **how** does it relate to the case?'' as she began typing at her typewriter for that fiction magazine of her.
I sat up from my chair, grabbing my cane, and hobbled a little bit over to the coatstand, where I got my trenchcoat, hat, and pistol. As I got my coat on, I told her, `` It relates, since the kid is who I believe to be the suspect.''
`` You know you should n't go out like that, since the Doc said for you not to do cases until you're better.'' Nancy remarked, the typewriter sounding much like a machine gun.
`` Bah whatever.'' I replied as I walked out the door. I thought to myself, *Well, I still think about `` The thing'', Ryan, and now I can confront it head on. *
Constructive Crit is appreciated.
|
[ WP ] Most of the Milky Way galaxy is ruled by an interstellar empire , populated by hundreds of alien races . The species of the ruling monarch keeps changing ; once they die , the emperor is reborn as a member of one of the many races . You 're the first human-reincarnation of this ruler .
|
I opened my... eyes?... for the first time. I sat up in a plush bed - a type of bed that I'm unfamiliar with. A quick look down at my... hands?... - yes, hands - reveals that I've just been reborn as a human, the newest species to join our empire. Interesting.
My representatives must have already found my newborn body and brought it to our ships for processing, explaining why I appear to already be a normal, sixteen year-old human teenager. Oh, wait - this is odd.
I've never... felt this, before. Humans procreate in such a weird fashion - unheard of, in our other species. They each have... ports? No, that's not it. I'll have to ask our human ambassador for these questions. Regardless, this feeling is foreign to me.
A quick shuffle below the sheets of the bed informs me that this... dongle?... is something that can be exercised. Ah, Holy Arcturus, that's _interesting_.
`` Lord Monarch, are you awake?''
`` Just a moment! I'm still... getting acquainted with this new species. Give me 20 minutes.''
_5 minutes later... _
`` I'm coming out.''
|
A dead-beat dad abandons his wife and children . Make me sympathize with him .
|
-036
Life is a series of moments. Mark knew it. He accepted it. He stared at the handset and closed his eyes. He could hear the little voice without holding it up to his ear. It was tiny and distant and filled with much sorrow. His bottom lip quivered while he tried to manage his emotions. He raised it to his ear and took a deep breath.
``... to me.'' She bawled. His hand shook. `` Daaaaddy!'' The wail cut like a knife. He saw her face -- her big baby brown eyes, the freckles across the bridge of her nose, the little pink bow that was her lips, and he chubby little cheeks. `` Daaaddy! Please talk to me.'' He felt the catch in his throat and he listened to her sob and call out to him. `` Do n't go. Please. I miss you, Daddy.''
`` Hi... Hi, pumpkin.'' He croaked into the handset, trying to keep his voice calm.
`` Daddy! Oh my god, Daddy. Please come home. I'll be good. I will. I promise. I'll do anything...'' He listened to her huff and hyperventilate into the phone. `` Daddy?'' She asked in a small voice filled with insecurity. `` Please come home.''
He was n't there anymore. He was in a small white room filled with beeping equipment and listening to a clean troubled man delivery the test results. *Too soon. * He wanted more time with her. `` Daddy's...''
`` Daaaaddy. Do n't leave me. I'm sorry. I'll be good. Just please come home. Daddy?''
`` Okay, pumpkin.'' She was still sobbing.
`` I sorry.'' She repeated over and over.
`` Baby. You did n't do anything wrong. I'm coming h -- home.'' His voice trembled. `` Okay?''
`` Okay, Daddy. I will be good. You'll see.'' She promised.
`` I know, honey. Can you put mommy on?'' He asked softly.
`` Um-hmm.'' There was the sound of banging and mumbled talk, but a moment later he found himself talking to his wife again.
`` I love you.'' He said. `` I'm coming home.'' She was crying too, but there was a distance and coldness to her voice.
``... okay.'' She whispered, hanging up the phone. He listened to the empty air for several moments and hung up the phone. *To soon. *
He closed his eyes and jerked the wheel across the centerline. He felt the impact and then nothing ever again.
|
[ WP ] Life confronts Death . Death has been a little too trigger happy this year . Life wants to know why .
|
Life really was a jerk. He always portrayed Death as a terrifying villain that wanted to destroy all of humanity, which was n't true at all. Death was really a kind old man that had volunteered to escort souls from their mortal vessels to the World of Spirits. Life was just kind of there. At Death's cottage, he was confronted by Life, who wanted to know why there were many more evacuated mortal vessels ( yes, that is the official term for dead people ) this year than years previous. `` You've gone mad with power, have n't you?'' queried Life, his young features gleaming, `` I told the mortals that this would happen, and guess what? I was right!''
`` I could n't see how someone could be so ignorant of their own actions!'' exclaimed Death. Death could n't really become angry with anyone, but Life could get him the closest to that point. `` Do you remember that time you thought there should be a'hyper-spring', or whatever you called it, on Earth? Well, that's what's happening now! A bounce-back in life energy. All mortals die, and that time has come for the products of your little experiment. This is your doing, Life!''
Life paused. He was n't used to having to listen to people complain about the consequences of his actions, so this was pretty surprising. `` So? Could n't you have come to them later?'' he said, thinking Death beat. `` You do n't know how this works, do n't you!'' Death hissed, `` I do n't decide, you do n't decide, even Azrael does n't decide! Death. Is. Inevitable. You came into existence, so I had to fill the gap left by your creating by destroying!''
Life had no comeback. He did n't think he needed one. He was young, he did n't need to understand the universe. All that mattered was now, the present. All that mattered, was the current tick of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. All that mattered, was his creations. Death. Had. To. Go.
|
[ WP ] In a world of shapeshifters , how do we know who is who ?
|
`` Well atleast your not a shapeshifter, eh?'' I joked, raising a glass of liquid to my mouth.
All the flashing lights, the drunken laughter, and not to mention the sports blasting on the television and the music blaring in the next room over, it was hard to think clearly.
`` Haha, so funny. Want me to top off your drink?'' the bartender asked.
I gave him a quick nod and he snatched my drink off the table. My eyes scanned the room looking for anyone different. A girl roughly my size sat down directly beside me.
`` There's other seats open you know.'' I told her.
She shrugged it off and the bartender came back with my drink. He asked her what she wanted, and she ordered a drink I did n't recognize.
`` So whats your name?'' she squeaked in a unexpected high pitched voice.
`` Reia, you?''
`` Mines Karma.'' she squeaked back.
The bartender came back with her drink. It was a florescent pink, with a little black straw and a mini umbrella poking out of the top. She leaned down to take a sip and thats when I saw it. A blue hologram on the back of her neck with the signature shapeshifter's trademark.
`` Hey Karma, did you hear on the news?'' I asked, watching her closely.
`` What?'' Karma asked, cocking her head to the side to look at me.
`` Shapeshifters were outlawed years ago.''
I saw her expression momentarily change before I tackled her to the ground. We wrestled, and I could only watch in horror as her entire body shifted into a exact copy of my own body.
I put my foot to the wall of the bar itself, knocking over a couple barstools. She grabbed me by the neck, now being just as strong as me, and flung my head backwards onto the bar's wall. My foot slipped to the side, and I kicked her as hard as I could in the stomach.
`` Its ok, I got the fucking shapeshifter.'' she growled in a exact copy of my voice.
My vision was darkening. I tried to cry out, to tell them I was made of flesh and blood and she was the fake, but nothing came out. She smirked at me, daring me to get up and fight her. I only managed to raise my wrists before my head injuries overcame my will to stay conscious.
|
[ WP ] You 're just notified upon arrest that your spouse overdosed and u were both homeless heroin addicts residing in a Forrest . Your entire recollection of time spent with them was make believe . The wedding , daily 9-5 work/home routine ; everything except the 3 year child you are left to raise alone .
|
I couldn ’ t tell her. I just could not do it no matter how bad or how hard i tried. It sort of feels as if the ocean had a wall of glass and I could see someone drowning and I could do was watch and hope they notice that someone is wary. But that's not what I did. I broke that fucking glass and let the water seep in until we both drowned. Dedicated ourselves to shut out the world we knew. I don ’ t believe it was entirely my fault. Oh no, I bought it into it as well. Who would n't? After all being surrounded by nature and so much green instead of the padded walls of a cubicle would make anyone look forward to waking up each day. But when things started to go really bad, that's when they were the most enjoyable. This is not how things can be remembered. Things should be remembered for what they were not what we wanted them to be. Or should they? Why not? Whats so bad about something being good regardless of its consequence? I guess that something that I ’ ll have to find out all on my own.
|
[ RF ] Let 's stop for a moment with all of those `` paranormal '' scary stories . Write a terrifying piece that could really and plausibly happen to anyone .
|
My friend had always wanted to bungee jump, and today was the day he was going to do it.
We had somehow gone unnoticed and made our way on top of the building. He was prepared with all the equipment: Bungee Cord, Helmet, Harness, and a Carabiner.
I was n't ready at all, and I kept on trying to discourage him from doing it.
`` There is no way in hell we are not going to be caught by the cops,'' I stated.
He did n't even think for a second with his response: `` That makes it more fun.''
I could n't really do anything, considering I would never know how much fun it is. He was the adrenaline junkie, I filmed his incredible stunts for his YouTube channel.
We went to the edge. I was sure we were about 15 stories high.
With a rather nervous tone and a worrying look in my face, I asked: `` Are you positive you want to do this shit?''
`` Absolutely! Whatever it takes to get views! ``, he replied, looking much more relaxed than me.
We had both measured the rope, done our math, and did a couple of tests. Nothing was going to go wrong unless we had somehow messed up with our calculations.
With everything set up ( the rope, harness, hook, and helmet ), he approached the edge, turned around, and asked if I had tied the rope yet. I looked at the rope. it wasn; t even connected. I quickly told him not to jump, and I made my way over to tie it up. Once he had settled in, I told him I had finished, and made my way over to the camera, and after some setting up, I started recording, and gave him the thumbs up, as he started his intro to the video.
`` Hi, I'm AdrenalineJunkie905, and this is the bungee jump challenge! I'm about to jump off this ledge and pull off some wicked bounces! Let's do this!''
He turned around to look at the ground below, then turned to me. I was extremely worried, but I still gave him the go ahead to jump. I knew I was probably going to regret it, but it was too late to turn back now. We had already broken into the building and onto the roof, it was worth nothing to turn away now.
He asked for a countdown from ten to one. I obliged. `` Okay... ten....''.
I had to think this through. Was he really going to jump? Was he that much of a wussy?
`` Nine...'' He would n't. He's jumped off a building before, but it was only off his own house and he landed on his trampoline.
`` Eight...'' He's such a pussy. He would n't dare.
`` Seven...'' But would he?
`` Six...'' Maybe he will. He's brave enough. He's donated blood. He stood next to a crocodile at a zoo just for a selfie. He ate a ghost pepper before and did n't even cry.
`` Five...'' I still hope he does n't jump. He'd be an idiot if he did.
`` Four...'' Welp, it's too late to turn back now. I'm more than halfway through.
`` Three...'' This jump will change both of our lives forever. We might become YouTube stars. We might be featured on the news. We might become celebrities.
`` Two...'' This is it. He's really gon na jump.
`` One! GO!''
And he did. He fell face first and it almost seemed surreal as to how calm he was. He did n't even scream at all.
I then heard a thump. I knew exactly what happened. But I did n't bother to look. I already knew that would happen, and knew that it was n't worth it to have a peek at him.
It almost seemed too easy. I suggested we go bungee jumping, showed some stupid articles of people jumping off buildings, and give him the idea that we can become stars one day by doing something crazy.
I knew that by telling him I tied the rope to the hook when we started, he would easily believe me. He was so gullible and believed anything I told him. What an idiot.
Knowing I could n't stay for long, I carefully cleaned up the rooftop of any suspicious items and left via the emergency exit through the back, just like I planned so. Of course, he would have never known I was going to kill him, so planning my escape was just a bit easier. I mean, he was such a lucky asshole. He was privileged, I was poor, and the only I stuck along was just to get rid of the bastard who always did fun stuff that I was never able to do. Call me jeolous, but I envied him so much, I knew I had to ger rid of him.
I got in my truck, making sure that I did n't seem suspicious at all in order not to be singled out by the cops or FBI or whoever reviews those shitty CCTV camera footage. The lights were off near his body, and I made sure to make it seem as if I never knew there was a dead person right next to my truck.
As I left the scene of the crime, driving past his lifeless body squirming on the ground, I thought to myself: `` Man, I'm good at murder. ``, as I headed home to upload the footage to his channel, which was growing rapidly in views and subscribers.
That's what we always did after we did something like that.
You know, when we were friends.
________________________________________________________________________________________
First horror story. Im sorry in advance if it either gave you actual cancer or if it doesnt seem too realistic, which bassically means it doesnt follow the rules of this post. At least i tried. Anyway, thanks for reading.
-ArizonaCoyotesFan
|
[ WP ] Every night in your sleep you meet a successful-looking future you who tells you what you should do the next day . So far your life has gone well indeed , but one day you fall asleep during the daytime . You meet a tired , disheveled version of yourself who begs you not to listen to the other .
|
*So... this is my life now* I thought while looking at the man that *kind of* looked like me.
It all started several years ago; one night while sleeping a man showed up in my dream, he had a black suit, a well maintained hair and the rest of his appearance screamed `` success'' in a way only rich powerful men managed to. He claimed to be my future self and told me he would visit me every night to make sure I had the future he represented.
It was just a weird dream the first time, but then it happened again, and again and again. Eventually I started to follow his advice and I was immediately rewarded by it; I got every promotion I wanted, got every women I desired and every service I needed. Life was good and I was only to abide to one rule `` Never, *ever*, sleep during the day''.
As with every story in the history of ever that had a forbidden action, the past repeated itself; one particular day that mixed a very late night, few hours of sleep and having the cold I fell sleep on the couch while watching TV. Future self presented himself again, just that this time he did n't look much like he used to.
He had a beard, a long and wild beard that had remains of food in it, all his face was covered in scars and sweat with a long hair that did n't match up with the bald spot on his head, though it did match with his body odor. He looked at me with blood injected eyes and the look of someone who's seen more suffering that he can take.
`` Do n't listen to the man in the suit!'' I remember him telling me `` He is n't trying to help you!''
I laughed and asked why should I take advice from such a pitiful man.
`` I am not the one who gives advice. I'm the one who gives the warnings'' he responded and faded away.
After that I woke up and thought nothing of it, just some bad dream brought by my untrusting subconscious. Life went on, I kept on winning on everything I put my mind ( and my good friend's help ) into. My last big quest was getting a billionaire business moving, and as was expected I succeeded.
After the celebration party I had my usual meeting in my dream. Future me looked incredible happy, as he should be since I had finally become what he wanted me to be.
`` It took incredible time and effort, but you did it'' he congratulated me `` From now on you wont need me since you're finally *me*'' he said while he offered me his hand for a final shake.
I shook his hand vigorously while thanking him for making me who I was, he put his other hand over my own and said ``... though I'm surprised you did n't listen to your daylight version, most people do...'' he said while smiling, a yellow flash in his eyes ``... big mistake''.
And then he was me, not in the future as how I've been seeing him so far but me *me*. A wicked smile on my, not, his face and he disappeared. And just like that I was alone, locked in a dream that looked a lot more grim and dark that I usually remembered it.
I've been trying to escape ever since, but there's only one way...
*So this is my life now... * I thought while looking at the *young* man that *kind of* looked like me. `` Hello...'' I said while straightening my spotless suit `` I am your future self''.
*Edit*: Wow, thanks guys. This is the first time I write something on this sub and I was nervous as hell. Thanks for the amazing feedback. I'll hang out here more often.
|
[ WP ] Dr. Seuss , tired of writing kids stories , finally snaps and writes the most horrifying childrens story ever . Bonus points if you use 50 different words or less .
|
One kid, two kid, three and four.
I used to see them at my door.
Old, young, boy and girl.
All would come to try and give me a thrill.
Day and night they would write
about new stories I should create for their delight.
They would come from knottedville, tee-square and kamzoo. Thaxton, montrose and pilton too!
But one by one they would dare not show.
Because they know of the places my mind used to go.
My rhymes and lyrics are not all fun. When you can only escape them with a gun.
The easy way out would be to simple. But the time drags on and the rhymes wo n't stop. Silence is the only way out and it starts with a pop.
|
[ WP ] You take a break from vampire hunting and go on an awesome date ... who just may be a vampire .
|
The streetlight on the corner flickered as my pounding heartbeat drowned out a distant siren. I nervously glanced at my phone, then at the Pizza Shack, then back at my phone. She was the hottest girl I'd dated for a long time, and we'd agreed to meet here, at the corner of 7th and Washington, right outside Pizza Shack. Alright, so maybe I have n't dated any girls since, well, who's counting right. She looked great on her Tinder profile. And she lived nearby. I glanced at my phone again.
`` Derek?'' My legs involuntarily straightened faster than they were supposed to, almost propelling me into the air as I dropped my phone. My hand automatically shot down to my belt, where I usually kept my wooden stakes. Damn, she walked quietly. I guess some people just have a knack for going places unnoticed.
`` Tania?'' I asked. Her quizzical expression flowed into an amused grin. I was smiling too, but mine came with a double helping of embarrassment. `` You startled me. You walk pretty quietly...'' I trailed off lamely, bending over to pick up my phone.
`` Sorry I'm late.'' She said, ignoring my awkwardness. `` When I was walking down 6th, an old man tripped in front of me. He started bleeding quite a bit.''
`` Oh my god! That's awful. Is he alright?''
`` Oh he's quite dead. Head wound. Lots of blood.''
We had n't even entered the restaurant and already the date seemed to be going badly. I racked my brain for advice, hoping the online dating advice I'd read for the past week would come in handy. Then I remembered: comfort the girl!
`` Are you alright?'' I asked triumphantly.
`` Oh I'm fine. I'm used to seeing blood,'' she replied casually.
At this point my scattered brain decided to remember that she worked at the local hospital. She'd probably seen as much gore and death as I had. I mentally glared at my brain. It blew a mental raspberry back. I sighed mentally.
`` That's... good.'' I wondered whether I should put my arm around her. Is that how this kind of thing worked? `` Why do n't we go eat?'' I continued. She laughed, grabbing my arm and dragged me into the Pizza Shack.
I noticed the waitress was a low level Klaspian succubus, and she certainly noticed me, seating us quickly without making eye contact. After a minute of perusing the rather limited menu, I remembered a video of a couple eating spaghetti together, ending with a cute kiss when they ate different ends of the same piece of pasta. The meatball marinara could be my ticket to the promised land! I asked if she wanted to share one with me.
`` Does it have garlic? I ca n't eat garlic,'' she said without waiting for a response. I tensed up.
`` Allergies, you know, `` she continued. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief.
I tried again. `` What about the fettucine with alfredo sauce, then? I'm pretty sure no one puts garlic in alfredo sauce.'' She nodded.
When the fettucine came, we dug in. Or, at least, I dug in, and she turned away, reached into her mouth, put it into a little case, and quickly shoved the case in her purse. I chewed slowly.
`` What was that?'' I asked. Vampires often have a fake set of teeth to disguise their sharp fangs. I was starting to get suspicious. She blushed.
`` It was my retainer. It's not polite to ask about stuff like that, you know.'' I mentally sighed, in relief, again. I was glad she had a normal explanation, and was in no way a vampire.
Then she ate a bite of the fettucine. Her face contorted into approximately half shock and half pain, then she spit it out. Unfortunately, her lips were starting to smoke. Apparently, Pizza Shack *does* put garlic in their fettucine alfredo. Oh, also, she was a vampire. I sighed mentally, not in relief, but more in exasperation.
`` Look.'' she tried to say through a grimace and her burning lips. `` I'm not gon na try to bite you or kill you or anything.''
I pushed my chair out from the table and slowly stood up.
`` I know your a vampire hunter, but I think you are alfo cute!'' She coughed. `` Pleafe just fit back down and we can talk about it.'' She tried to grab my wrist and pat out her fiery lips at the same time. I pushed her away and ran out the back door. It really makes me sad when my work follows me on my days off.
|
[ WP ] After many years of financial difficulties the U.K. has decided to rejoin the EU but instead of joining the European Union they have joined the Star Wars EU by mistake . You are the explaining the situation to the Prime minister
|
First Time Writing, Please be gentle
`` Mr Prime Minister Sir? We seem to have accidentally joined the Star Wars Eu instead of the EU''. The PM did not reply. `` Should I tell the senate?'' I asked. The PM turns around and says `` You just told me''. Confused, I ask `` What do you mean?''
He replies with `` I am the senate.'' At this point I realized that the PM was actually Darth Plagueis the wise.
I take off my cloak revealing myself to be General Greivous. We both turn on our lightsabers and an epic duel happens. After around ten minutes of dueling, the sith lord falls down some stairs, I look him in the eyes and say `` It's over Plagueis, I have the high ground''. I jump down the stairs and put a lightsaber to his neck and say `` Any last words?'' Plagueis replied with `` I hate sand. It's course and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere'' I then slit his throat and take his lightsaber muttering `` This will make a fine addition to my collection'' before walking out the door and flying away on my podracer while yelling `` Now this is podracing!''
TLDR: Dank
|
[ WP ] The 2020 Summer Olympics has a new event . Calvinball .
|
He surveyed the field, keeping his eyes fixed on the players. His players. He was so proud of them. Jenkins, number 7, was a very focused, driven player and always intent on following the plan even if he did n't agree with it. Li, number 12, was the fastest base runner he'd ever worked with and could keep a clear head when it came to remembering where all the bases were and which ones he had to double-back to.
Coach Watterson snapped back to reality. Glancing behind him at the audience, he noticed a shouting sea of red. His team, the tigers, were winning. Hastily, he scanned the field for whatever they were cheering for. Then, he spotted it: Jason Rodriguez from the New Mexico ET's had forgotten to touch the secret base. Saul Vasquez, the Tigers' best pitcher, lobbed the ball at Rodriguez hard. Rodriguez collapsed and tumbled to the ground, where he stayed until the medics arrived with a stretcher. The crowd went wild again as the Ref shouted `` You're out, Rodriguez!''
Watterson noticed that he was clutching his cap so tightly in his hands that he was practically tying it in knots. He was sweating like a pig. As he sat down to take a drink from his water bottle, he realized how sick and twisted Calvinball really was. It made no sense. A secret base? And how many are there anyway? Thirty? Fifty? He had n't even seen anyone win at Calvinball. He's just an elementary school PE coach with a lot of luck and a degree in sports medicine. He was n't cut out to coach a real sports team, but then again... was anybody?
As he watched two players get into a fist fight over whose turn to bat it was, he put his nearly sunburned arm over the shoulders of Jimmy Vasquez, the assistant coach, and let out a deep, heavy sigh `` I ca n't believe this moronic sport is our new international pastime.''
|
[ WP ] You and your cohorts have pulled off your heist as planned . Later , in your hideout , you see TV reports that the payload you hijacked is lethally radioactive
|
`` Jack, look at this mark.'' Charles said with his thick Irish accent.
Jack peered into the bag, and then spoke with hesitation:
`` A black dot on a yellow background with three cones pointing outward. Does n't that mean this is radioactive?''
`` So, does n't this need to be in a lead box or something Boss?''
The `` Boss's'' voice boomed over Jack's cellphone, set on speaker mode.
`` Ever had an x-ray? Those expose you to radiation too. They just have to mark it as such legally. It's worth a lot, that's what matters, that's why we care.'' The conversation came to an end, and the other end disconnected.
The armored car bounced around, as if the vehicle was either driving on the planks of a dock, or in some poorly maintained back road. Then, suddenly, the vehicle stopped, the engine was turned off, and the sound of the driver's door being open and closed were heard.
`` Charles, I do n't have a good feeling about this. Why did we have to be back here? It's cold, and I am claustrophobic!''
Charles gave an annoyed expression and responded
`` Shut up Jack, no on likes you. Especially me. This is my last job and I'm out.''
There was a thoughtful pause before he continued.
`` We just have to wait here, and when the coast is clear we can come out. I'm sure cops are looking for us all over the city right now.''
Hours passed, and there was no sign of the driver.
Charles became alarmed as daylight peeked in the one small windows in the back of this metal cage.
`` They are n't coming are they Jack?''
`` Why would you say that?'' Charles said, starting to wonder himself, his cracking voice giving away his own alarm.
Jack holds out his hand, showing a large clump of his own hair.
Jack spoke `` This never happened when I got x-rays...''
A day later, and two dead thieves lay cold int he back of the vehicle.
A figure appears, collects his bounty, safely securing it in a protected container immediately.
The man smirks, proud of how clever he was to cut out two others from the cut.
`` More for me!'' He said, and then the Boss was gone.
|
[ WP ] A stereotypical neckbeard goes back in times to the medieval ages and becomes a 'White Knight ' .
|
Jonas only remembered a flash of light not what caused it. He awoke in a foreign land with too much of that hairy green stuff like lady earth had n't shaved knowing no one would ever find her attractive. He attempted to roll over for a better chance of standing upright but a rock decided that would n't be the way this would work; Jonas headbutted the rock making his fedora roll a few yards North. `` Fucking troll stones, swear,'' Jonas fumbled his way to standing on two feet.
The bushes were far larger and thornier than the ones his dumb mother pruned all the time when it was supposed to be lunch. They had berries though, Jonas knelt down and grabbed a berry from the closest one, `` ah a Hibiscus Oregano Berry of course. I've seen these a thousand times, perfectly edible,'' Jonas tossed it into his mouth and swallowed with his teeth so much as touching.
Surveying the land, Jonas noticed a large castle only fifty yards from him, which would be a half days walk, and a small village just outside of it. He began the mighty trek, grabbing his fedora on the way.
The passage took him hours in Warcraft time. The grass was dull and every tree was an Oak tree just with different leaf shapes, was n't there any variety in this dream of his? A lone stick, about six feet long and straighter than most of his crushs boyfriends' dicks, was cracked off a tree. Jonas eyed it knowing what damage he could do if he took this time to practice the stances he'd learned from each of the karate studies he spent evenings watching, took it.
Gasps sprouted from parts of the village as Jonas' blubbery body entered the gates. The first villager he saw was brushing a valiant steed who could no doubt ride Jonas into thousands of formidable battles. `` M'lady,'art though single?''
`` Excuse uh me....I... single? My husbands right over there sir, I should n't be seen saying words.''
`` Well you're a dumb winch for being married anyway. That ass ai n't fat enough for me, I need that Kate Upton body,'' Jonas said as he respectfully tipped his hat to the woman. Perhaps the castle would provide him with more opportunities, at least some fried food to resupply him after such a long journey.
There was no fried chicken in the castle much less his Kate Upton look-a-like that would surely understand him and provide that sweet BLS for his underappreciated good looks. No, it was simply some king who obviously kept all of Daddy's money for himself. The crown on his head was crusted with cheap store bought diamonds and gold spray paint from what Jonas could tell. The guards around the castle had ushered him to the court room to meet the man, they kept pulling at his Star Trek shirt as if it was some prized tapestry Jonas had wrapped himself in.
The king's eyes widened as Jonas' turn to speak came upon them. `` Please, tell me where you've fought such a battle that the lordship you won with felt right to wrap the story around you?''
`` Kelvatarr 9, Episode 78. Your king thing, I demand food, a bath, two wenches- blonde of course- and a proper bed. I will tell you all about the future, where I'm from, if you give me those services.''
`` I must admit, that is requesting quite alot for a man who just strode into town.''
[ End- sorry will continue if there is enough support! ]
|
[ WP ] `` Please kill me ''
|
I'd never uttered those words with so much intent before. Such meaning, such... clarity, it felt like. `` Please kill me.'' It reverberated in my head, going back and forth, back and forth, as I stood at the train platform. `` Fucking do it,'' I tell myself. The train driver might think it was an accident. A lowly junkie who was too fucked up to realize he walked in front of a train. `` Please kill me,'' I think as I see the lights getting bigger, the sound of the metal behemoth approaching. `` Please kill me,'' I say to myself quietly.
I fall.
|
[ WP ] `` Please kill me ''
|
`` If you're a sociopath, why do n't you just kill me?'' He was an arrogant kid, would n't look me in the eye, but looked at the air around me like he was summing me up. He must have been 16, at most.
`` What are you on about?'' I smile amusedly. My apathy's been noticed before, but the only people who usually accuse me of sociopathy are my family.
`` You know.'' He'almost' looks me in the eye, so I watch his. I keep watching until he starts fidgeting and then I giggle. People are weird sometimes.
`` You think I'm a sociopath because I do n't get frustrated when you're controversial?'' I'm expecting a defeated handshake sometime soon, so I take off my woolen gloves and start drying my palms on the inside of my coat pockets.
He gestures madly with his hands and shakes his head.
Autistic. Aspergers.
I smile.
`` Do you find it hard to make eye contact?''
`` There!'' He almost shouts. I smile apologetically at a woman passing on the street.
`` You're doing it again. Being manipulative... God, you're annoying! Oh my God.''
I ca n't help but laugh again. I have n't had a conversation like this in a long time. Not since I swapped my group of friends for Christian choir-girls.
He talks loudly for a while, although I should probably call it ranting. So much anger in one kid. He asks me questions, general knowledge, science etc. I tell him'I do n't know'. To most of it, but that makes him angrier. He thinks I'm'playing dumb.'
Why is this conversation so amusing? I'm hardly saying anything but I'm enjoying it.
`` How do I make someone hate me?'' He asks, and I shrug.
`` That's stupid. Why would you want someone to hate you. Surely you'd rather people liked you?''
`` No no no no no. It's power is n't it. If you can /make/ people hate you, you have power. You can be God. Do n't you want to be God?''
I shake my head and he gets even more frustrated at my answer. He seemingly does n't understand that people can be motivated by things other than omnipotence.
`` What if I already think I'm God?''
That one really annoyed him.
`` Do you want to be God?''
`` Obviously,'' He says.
`` Can there only be one God?''
`` Obviously,'' He says.
`` Well there we go then. You be God.''
`` You are n't supposed to say that! You're supposed to oppose me, it does n't work otherwise!''
....
`` Would you do it though?''
`` No.''
``... Please.''
`` No. Go home.''
It did end with a handshake, on my street corner.
I think he has a crush on me and it does n't make any fucking sense.
Everybody has this weird suicidal/psychopath complex these days.
|
[ WP ] Aliens invade , using weapons that allow them to bring their thoughts into reality . Write what happens when they are stopped by an extremely imaginative child .
|
The battlefield was quiet now; Human and Xandathorian war machines littered it like metal carcasses, black smoke billowed in the distance, and all traces of life were gone save for 2 figures.
The first was Glandthor, Xandathor's Grand Emperor and Leader of the Five Armies of the Multiverse. He was easily 8 feet tall, heavily armored in the Empire's best warsuit, and his black eyes stood out like obsidian against his paper white face.
The second was Katie, Kindergartener and, according to her father, The Smartest Little Girl in the Whole Wide World. She was a little over 4 feet, wore her mousy brown hair in little pigtails, and carried with her a pink *Dora the Explorer* backpack.
They had come, face to face, 9,700,876 and 5 years old, respectively, and they had met to decide the fate of the human race.
`` Are you ready, child?'' Glandthor's voice was coarse, deep, and alien, in the same beautiful way as a blue whale's call.
`` Okay!'' Katie beamed up at him, `` You can go first!''
`` A kind move, child...'' the alien smirked, `` If unwise...''
He spread his arms out suddenly, as if he were about to show her a whole new world.
`` A tachyon howitzer,'' he narrated, and a digital, tubular wireframe burst into reality, `` Powered by...''
Twin orbs, both containing black holes, appeared at both sides of the machine.
`` Your move, child,'' he simpered.
`` Wow!'' Katie clapped her hands approvingly at the weapon of mass destruction before her, `` My turn! I pick... a lion catapult.''
`` A lion catapult?''
`` It's a catapult that shoots lions!'' and, true enough, a comically medieval trebuchet, loaded with its feline ammo, appeared. With a *twang*, the lions burst forward and ate the tachyon howitzer.
`` How... did... you... know....'' no species had countered his tachyon cannon for millenia. Shaking the shock out of his eyes, Glandthor straightened up. `` It matters not! I will grant you a quick death for your valor.''
A dark matter cannon, powered by the same forces that kept the universe together, materialized on the battlefield.
`` Pray to whatever silly gods you have,'' he muttered, and the cannon sped up, and the light around it died away, and a blast that could shatter galaxies burst from its-
`` Nuh uh!'' Katie folded her arms, `` I have a super-mega-ultra forcefield that eats dark matter ammo!''
His people had guarded the secret to the dark matter cannon since the dawn of time... How could a child know how to...
`` Impossible...'' Glandthor fell to his knees and wept, `` How could you...''
`` I think you've been a big meanie, mister,'' Katie shook her head, `` Now you have to go sit in the corner for forever and ever!''
`` NOOoOOOOOoOooooO!'' but it was too late. Glandthor had already been whisked away to serve his time for the rest of eternity.
|
[ WP ] Humans are the only intelligent species in the universe to have evolved from predators . Every other sentient species has evolved from a prey species ... and so they are terrified of us . Now it 's up to you to persuade the Galactic Council that we wo n't hunt them down and eat them all .
|
Footsteps echoed as I turned the corner. Mumbled clicks and shrieks grew as I approached the blue-green door. It peeled away like an onion as figures moved in the distance. Hovering platforms began to settle as metallic disks filled them. Each stuffed with beings more bizarre than the next. I should call them aliens but they very eerily reminded me of something that would be evolution's wet dream of chickens, gazelles and some gibbons. Something that looked like an alien pig with a lazer pen began to grunt. He passed along the message to a slide covered drone. It floated down. Ooze extending from its port side. With the grace of a librarian the robot handed me the message with a greenish slime that was forming the structure of talons.
The message was slightly askew as I peered closer. After a few moments I had to make eye contact with the space hog.
Stick what down my throat?
He waved a hooved hand towards the podium in front of me.
The silver platform beeped as I stood on it. As I rose in the air. A thin mesh matrix spread across making a giant sphere. Grotesque faces popped onto the material as I made direct eye contact with the hog. It was better quality resolution than any television or device by a thousand. I glanced down noticing a silver box. A small gray tube stuck out like a string from a thing of dental floss. I rose the thing hesitantly to the screen. Unsure where my cameras were. He gave a rippling grunt which I could only presume was a yes. I held the tube to my mouth as it started to slither down. Melding with the flesh in my body. I wheezed nervously as I asked what the thing was. The words that came out sounded like a caribou waking up. I creeked out the words in their tounge. `` Y'all understand?''
Confused faces met me. I waved my hand apologetically. `` Do you all understand my words?''
I swallowed. Praying that I was n't accidentally insulting their mothers.
Words seeped into my little sphere. `` You picked it up fast simian.''
I let out a chuckle.
The hog called me a monkey.
`` So thank you for sending the invite to our satellites but your message was. Intriguing. You feared we would hunt you?''
A cackle let out all around me as screeches and yelps echoed. The hog began to snicker. Letting out as much of a grin something that looks like Wilbur could. `` We were worried you would want to hunt us. Because you lacked the capability of creating harmony with the other species on your planet. It was a mild attempt at creating a laugh. Good to note humor was not as advanced as we had presumed.''
I gave a stiff nod. `` Harmony with our wildlife?''
He gave a nod back mimicking me. `` Every species that has joined our.'' He clicked his hooves as he paused. `` Best human word is'Herd'. Has banded and defeated their natural predators into extinction.''
`` So no other omnivorous species have joined your armada?''
The pig grunted. `` No such thing exists in our coalition. They have outgrown their urges.''
Dear God. The first aliens we have to deal with are snobby vegans?
I shuffled slightly in the little sphere they began to feel more like the tube shoved down my throat.
`` I feel as if we should explain that a majority of our earth lacks the means for sustainable farming.''
The pig nodded. `` We can educate you on that.''
I could feel myself stiffening. In through the nose out, through the mouth. I breathed slower. Draw your breath son. Do n't let it rattle.
`` You feel we need to be taught to join your herd?''
They laughed. `` We prefer the term domesticated.''
For the first time since I stepped into the floating eight ball I smiled.
`` Not sure that's possible Chief.''
He cocked his head tusks glinting off the computer screen.
`` Do tell simian.''
I raised my head.
`` Because your cousins taste delicious.''
His eyes bulged as nervous clucking and baying erupted.
I began to laugh as the sphere began to lower, my smile growing. `` Sorry if we prefer our humor like our meat. Dark.''
|
[ WP ] All religious deities percieved by humanity exist simultaneously , and are tasked with controlling the places on Earth whose populations believe in their respective religions . Due to the rapid expansion of Christianity over the centuries , God and Satan are now extremely overworked .
|
In the Grand Hall on the edge of the existence, excellence assembled. A man with long flowing locks and a hammer with power beyond comprehension sipped on mead and challenged a dark haired Greek demigod, still wet with the blood of the hydra, to an arm wrestling contest. The two powerful beings flexed their biceps as the air crackled with electricity. The other gods watched with tedium as a brief break from their occupations. Zeus lazily crafted lightning to strike with fury for the world; Ra idyllically produced golden rays of sun to bathe the planet. Stripped of their awesome power by monotheistic mortals, the gods assembled and occupied themselves in simple occupations with the company of one another under the direction of a more powerful being.
As they drank mead and wine and engaged in pointless chatter, a fallen angel opened the doors to the Grand Hall for the first time in over a millennium. Dressed in a black suit made from the darkest fabric of space and time, pure white, feathery wings raised from his back complemented a handsome visage which could convince the world of evil. His fair hair and smile immediately won over Aphrodite ’ s affection while Tu ’ er Shen looked to him with an eager expression. Behind him walked a simple man adorned in a white robe whom the other gods immediately recognized. Odin saluted the elderly man who lazily saluted back in a show for respect. While the pair attracted the most attention, a young man with blue skin and lotus leaves entangled in his auburn hair followed their heels.
“ Lend me your attention, ” the man in the white robe announced. “ Gods and goddesses of times past, present, and future, deities and demons, and creatures of all supernatural persuasion, Satan and I have spoken: we need a vacation.
“ We ’ ve placed the world in a temporary state of suspension so that time shall not pass as we discuss the matter of mortals. As you are all very well aware, the advancement of the Abrahamic religions has spread across the world like the dark crawls across the night. Billions upon billions invest their absolute faith in my abilities and test Satan ’ s capability of spreading wicked deeds. Sri Krishna has alleviated much work from my shoulders as the champion of Hinduism whose powers and omnipotence rival mine, but his efforts are too concentrated in a small part of the world to relieve my strain. ”
“ So what are you going to do? ” spoke Zeus. “ Lay waste to the world with yet another flood? ”
“ I think not, ” the man in white replied. “ They ’ re too far along in my plans to eradicate in totality. No; I seek a babysitter so that Satan, Krishna and I may enjoy a brief moment of peace by sightseeing the various nebulae and supernovas. Thus I propose a contest for the prize of earth and its worshippers for 500 years. ”
A sudden clamor overcame the room. Gods of war and strength quickly gathered their weapons. Tricksters eyed the room suspiciously, looking for weakness or deceit to exploit. Champions of wisdom gathered books and papers eager to bring enlightenment to the world.
“ So what ’ s the contest, then? ” some stray supernatural being spoke.
“ A simple contest, ” the man in white spoke. “ On earth, mortals know me as God, the All-Knowing, the All-powerful, and a half dozen other superfluous titles, but as you know, God is nothing more than a title. To whomever can guess my true name, I will bestow the earth. ”
******
More stories at r/Andrew__Wells
|
[ WP ] A young child stumbles upon a serial killer dumping a body in the woods .
|
It was n't supposed to happen anymore. The last one was supposed to be just that, the *last* one.
But like all the dates before now, it went down the same dark and familiar path that led me back here -- dragging a sheet-wrapped moron out of my Honda Civic's tiny trunk.
You'd think after doing this x amount of times I would have invested in a pickup by now. Instead I foolishly told myself I could stop and each time the *last one* became *the one before the last one* and why do I need a pickup with horrible MPG when he is *the last one*.
I'll have to buy more carpet cleaner. This one leaked a bit.
I drop him to the ground and begin dragging him down the small slope that leads deeper into the woods. There's still a bit of worn out path from my last date and I gladly follow it. Soon he'll be with his own kind.
Normally I would have waited until the next night to dump his corpse, but this idiot not only succeeded in shitting himself but had also thrown up at the sight of his own dismembered toes. And while blood had never bothered me, vomit was something different entirely.
There is an old abandoned house in the woods. It's got this really weird 70s deco vibe going on and in the back is a giant reservoir - whether the people used to swim or fish or whatever, I do n't know. But it's still full of dark, lifeless water and now, thanks to me, lifeless corpses litter its floor.
I'm dropping his toes into the water, one by one when a cracking stick makes me whip around.
`` Nice superman shirt, kid.'' It has a cape attached to it. He has a deadly serious look on his face. He did n't see me with that body. He could n't have seen me. It was still dark then, the sun barely rising when I tossed Hector (? ) into the water. It has to be at least nine now, but it's hard to tell in the woods.
`` You should n't be out here alone.''
`` I live here.''
I snort and toss the last toe into the water. To him it probably looks like a rock, that's what I tell myself. I stand and wipe my hands on my jeans. They're dirty, but not obviously bloody. I need to take care of this little shit before I can rest easy tonight.
`` Listen, kid, no one lives in the middle of the fucking woods. Now why do n't you go home?''
`` My dad lives here.''
Something's not right. A chill runs up my spine.
`` No one's lived here for years.'' I gesture to the house. It's in pieces.
The kid shakes his head and then nods to the water behind me.
`` You gave him a new home here.''
That does n't make sense.
-- -
`` Peter! Mom said we got ta be home before 11!''
I ca n't stop Michael from seeing me but I need to finish what I started.
I never knew her name. I should have made her say her name, so I at least had someone real to hate.
`` Peter, I do n't like this game anymore…''
I ignore my younger brother. He could n't possibly understand what I'm doing to this woman, knocking her out was the easy step but tying weights to her limbs was proving to be much harder.
`` You're scaring me…''
`` Just a bit of harmless fun,'' I drag her up into a sitting position. Her mouth is stuffed with some of the bed sheet her last victim had been wrapped in. Fitting. `` Remember, you ca n't tell anyone what we've done.''
`` But what if…''
`` No! Not anyone.'' Her eyes are fluttering open just as I'm finishing tying the last weight to her chest. Panic sets in as she realizes what I'm about to do and I smile. `` Say hello to my dad for me.''
With a little shove she tips over and into the black water. I only see her pale face for a moment before she disappears into the murk. Bubbles rise and the water thrashes violently but I do n't have time to watch her drown. Michael ca n't see that.
`` C'mon,'' I hold out my hand to him and we start back up the path.
`` Where did dad actually go?''
`` Same place she's going.''
He pulls a face. He does n't understand.
`` Listen, sometimes bad people have bad things happen to them. Kinda like when Superman catches them, they go to jail. I thought you wanted to be like Superman?''
`` I do!''
`` Then next time you wo n't follow me out here, will you?''
|
[ WP ] You are an ordinary citizen in a city full of Superhero 's / Supervillians . Describe a day in your life .
|
My car is parked about 5 blocks away. I have some time, so I'm enjoying the walk. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a Goblin glider flying towards me from the right. I duck and it goes harmlessly overhead before returning to its owner. I keep walking, trying to get past the crowd of people watching and trying to get a picture. Fucking tourists.
I get to my car just in time to see fucking Iron Man pick it up and throw it at some Chinese guy, who shoots some beam out of his hands that disintegrates it completely. Goddammit. It's gon na take at least 2 weeks for Stark Industries to reimburse me.
I sigh and start walking to work. I pass Captain America trying to get a hot dog. Nice guy, Cap. He was quickly swarmed by people clamoring for an autograph. Fucking tourists.
About 6 blocks from the office, I spot a bunch of religious nuts telling everyone to renounce their sins; their signs saying: GALACTUS IS NIGH. REJECT MEPHISTO. BEWARE THE MUTANTS. I really do n't think that mutants are that bad. My ex was a mutant; she could make herself look like anyone. Very sweet woman. Turns out her `` main form'', so to speak, is a completely naked blue woman. No complaints from me, you know what I mean? Anyway, she left me for some old guy. I do n't blame her though, he apparently has a very magnetic personality.
I was just across the street from the office when I saw the Hulk fall out of the sky and use the office building to soften his landing. The Abomination followed him shortly after, and they started hitting each other with the remnants of my workplace. No one was inside, I was about an hour early. I sighed.
`` Guess I'm not working today.'' I said to no one in particular. `` Oh, well. Might as well get some schwarma.''
|
[ WP ] Every person in the world develops a weird mutation/power the day they turn 16 . Everyone 's powers are always different , some more insignificant than others . You turn 16 , and watch as all your friends discover their newfound ability 's . That is , until you discover the severity of your own .
|
Every day my penis grows two inches! At first i was like `` Omg, thats like the best thing ever!'' But after a while this blessing turned into a curse.
It started when the girls decided to wear leggins, a great day it was, until i got an errection! The girls were impressed, but i felt slightly light headed, and after a few seconds, i fell unconscious. At the hospital i arrived naked, my ripped pants right beside me.
`` Doctor.'' I mumbled while coughing.
`` Wh-What happened?''
`` Its your penis, its grown to an terrifying level. Its so big, that the moment you get an errecting all your blood flows into your penis! You got lucky this time, since you fell unconscious and lost your boner, but next time... By the gods, we dont know.''
It didnt take me long to recover, well at least my body didnt take long, but my mind took blows to hard and to sharp for me to simply be okay.
Sad it was, but if i wanted to survive, i had to adapt. But surpressing this beast, which i considered one of my best allies just days ago, was a harder task then first assumed.
It was like, it had a will of its own, it would just randomly get hard, take away my consciousness and make me fall into an abyss of darkness.
Then i realised, after returning to the world of light, that if i wanted to live like this, i had to become evil!
It was a hard decision to make, but at night i would become `` Bloody Dick'' stalker of the night and terror of the alleys.
I would steal other peoples blood and infuse it into my own penis and so i became the villain, nobody needed, but everyone deserved.
For the first time i was able to get an errection and felt the pleasure of masturbating again.
SO BEWARE OF BLOODY DICK, TERROR OF THE ALLEYS!
|
[ WP ] A man walks in to a bar for his usual drink , but his life is forever changed the second he takes his first sip .
|
He just had gotten into a huge fight with his wife. She threatened to take away the kids if he continued to drink. He was fed up with her and thought he should be able to do what he wants to do to himself. No one should tell him how to live his life he thought.
Stumbling his way to the bar grabbing onto poles and any object he could to keep himself up.
Fuck her and fuck the kids he mumbled under his breath.
Bar after bar told him to get lost as he stumbled around to find a place he could get one last drink. One last drink to fuel his addiction. He stood in front of a bar with a name in a different language he did not understand or care to understand. He plopped himself down and slurred his words in a demanding tone for a tall glass of any beer they had.
The bartender poured him drink and grinned his way. One sip later and he was in the mind of his children. They were crying and holding their mother. Why is daddy so mean? Mommy why is daddy never home.. Does he even love us?'' A tear streamed down the mans face. He got up pushed the beer away. The bartender smirked. Do you choose death or serenity?
|
[ WP ] Write a conversation between two people playing russian roulette .
|
“ A woman ” said the old man, hand absently fondling the worn silver revolver as he looked across the table at the youth.
“ What? ” came the youth ’ s reply, voice quavering slightly, Adams apple bobbing as he struggled to swallow through a throat gone dry.
“ You ’ re here because of a woman, it ’ s written all over you. I ’ m right aren ’ t I? ” asked the old man, dragging his thumb downwards in a flick, spinning the barrel around with a whirring hypnotic sound. The old man grinned at his young companion, tobacco stained teeth gleaming from behind his ragged silver moustache.
The youth nodded his assent, hair matted to his head with sweat, upper lip quivering slightly as he watched the old man spin the barrel of the pistol, over and over. “ Yeah, I guess so, but you know not just that ” he spoke now, voice firmer as he trod once more on familiar ground. Comforting respite from this chaotic, yammering jungle of humanity where he found himself.
The old man grinned a feral grin suddenly and rapidly raised the pistol to his temple. The noise of the crowed stilled with a pop as the atmosphere fled at one hundred breaths all held at once. The old man gazed into his young mirrors clear blue eyes with his yellowing bloodshot green. Smiling wider as his finger tightened on the trigger. All movement in the room ceased, every heart skipped a beat, all eyes stared unblinking on his face. A click. The crowd erupted. Foreign voices shouting over one another, money passed this way and that, shouted lamentations and celebrations raised a cacophony of sound. The old man grinned again, in relief this time and slid the gun across the table to the youth.
“ She break your heart? ” asked the old man, quaffing from a filthy bottle of local whisky at his elbow, hissing his satisfaction as it burned down his throat.
The youth didn ’ t answer, eyes pinning the pistol to the uneven boards of the roughhewn table. At the exhortations of the crowd he reached a shaking hand and gripped the tape wrapped handle of the gun drawing it to his chest where he cradled it in both of his quivering hands. “ No, I, err, I broke hers ” he spoke still staring at the weapon clasped now like a baby bird to the filthy stained yellow of his singlet.
“ Oh, ho ho ” chortled the old man. “ Doesn ’ t seem hardly a reason to end up here in this little piece of hell. You must have done something bad, something really bad ”.
The young man nodded slightly head wobbling crookedly on a neck gone to loose taffy with the heat and his terror. The crowd chanted now, baying for blood, begging and screaming with foreign voice for him to raise the gleaming instrument to his head. He lifted the gun on slackened arm, the handle slippery with his acrid sweat. Again the silence, the crowd leaning in, eyes widening in anticipation. A readjustment of his grip, a sharp ragged exhale and a barking cry of defiance as he pulled the trigger. A click. Chaos, screaming, broken glass. Joy and madness washing from the wild surf of humanity dashing itself in its fury against one another. The young man dropped the pistol to the table from a hand gone weak and slumped further in his chair. Small sobs shaking his frame in relief.
The old man reached across the table taking the pistol in gentle hand. “ Tell me about it boy, better than dying with such bitter poison in your heart ”. He sat back in his chair, swigging again at his bottle of whisky, ignoring the cries of the crowd caught up in their wagering on the lives of the men at the table.
“ I, I broke her heart, I ruined her life. I tore her down. She was perfect and I broke her ” came the youth ’ s confession, words tumbling over one another in this most surreal of confessionals. His priest sat nodding somberly in faded black t-shirt, taking large gulps at his bottle of murky brown hooch as he listened to the young man bare his soul. “ I ruined what I should have loved most ”.
The old man smiled a slight pitying smile and took grip of the pistol again. “ That ’ s the way of the world my boy, we always end up destroying what we should protect the most. We always tear down perfection with our anger, our weakness, our goddamned indifference ”. Once again the pistol was raised, the blood-warm barrel pressed to the quivering pulse of the old man ’ s temple. Again a hush, worshippers stunned to silence in this most holy of churches. This decisive cathedral of death. The trigger was pulled, slowly, become heavy with the promise of oblivion. A click. True animal shrieks now, words abandoned in an orgy of ecstatic chaos, the thunder of many hearts beating loud in sweat soaked chests deafening in the intimacy of the room.
The boys eyes widened, the room blurred behind stained glass of tears and smoke. The old man reached out and placed the gun in the youth ’ s unresponsive hand. The boy sat hiccoughing now in small barking sobs. He drew deep on a ragged breath, dashing tears from his eyes with the back of his filthy hand. Staring once again across the table at his confessor and enemy. “ It ’ s just so hard though ”. The old man nodded his assent. “ why did it end up like this? ” he asked, expecting no answer and receiving none. The crowd froze once more as he raised the pistol. The only sound the steady drip of his tears falling free to the table below. Each thudding drop ringing out in the mausoleum silence of the room. The gun shook, his hand shook, the world around him shook. A bang.
|
[ WP ] You walk into your toddler daughter 's room to see her strangling her favorite doll . She looks at you and says , `` It wo n't stop crying ... ''
|
*24601329 CASE NOTES
Excerpted from Guardian report ( SH071 )
... and I am filing this report to supplement the tapeline that will be transmitted with the incident batch at 1600. It is clear to me that Rachel was echoing something from an Hvid or some kid at school and nothing more. It was a silly moment from a great kid who has not previously presented ANY of the early warning signs we were trained to report on. I am fully aware that this will be red tagged and brought to the board for review, and I am formally requesting that this statement and all enclosed supporting documents be retained in case notes and considered in the final ruling.
Rachel is a wonderful child and I know that her case will prove successful. Your records will support that she achieved above standard results on the empathy and compassion battery tests well before the age when program children are known to be able to fool the compustat. I have included her psychiatric and neurocognition results from all regular check ups, some of her recent artwork, and a picture of her holding her little sister ( a non-program child ). I have faith that the board will recognize this situation for what it is and continue to underwrite Rachel's case ( 24601329 )
RATIONALE AND RULING
Effective Immediately, the board has ruled to immediately revoke its previous recommendation of APPROVED WITH CONDITIONS and to enact a ruling of NON-VIABLE for case 24601329. In conjunction with this ruling, the board orders Petitoner SH071 to release the child into program custody for final processing. Petitoner should note the communicated zero tolerance policy for possible regression. The transmission received at 1600 bares too strong a resemblance to the heinous crimes committed during the programants previous life cycle. The company can no longer underwrite rehabilitation efforts. Petitoner to await program officials in domicile. *
I died when I read the ruling. At least I feel dead.
`` Let's go for a cruise, sweetheart''
So maybe she is a monster after all. We knew the risks in program adoption. In any case, they wo n't take her from us.
|
[ WP ] Write something involving world domination and bread . But not any of that whole-grain crap , keep that to yourself .
|
Arthur yawned, rolled out of bed and crashed to the floor. Clutching his head, he made his way downstairs. He pushed the kitchen door open quickly, causing it to bounce back and hit him in the head.
He made his way to his bread bin and pulled out some soft white bread, not any of that whole-grain crap. You can keep that to yourself.
`` Hello'' Whispered the squishy slice.
Arthur scratched his nose, ``'Allo''.
He reached into the packaging to retrieve another slice of bread.
`` Hey!'' Exclaimed the first slice, `` Am I not good enough for you?!''
Arthur blinked, there was something odd going on here and he could n't work out what it was. `` I like both of you'' he responded absentmindedly.
Humming to himself, Arthur blearily made his way to his toaster. `` Hey now!'' Slice # 1 cried `` There's no need for that, you know what? You and I? We could rule the world, we could destroy all of our enemies, have domain over every single country that exists. If you just let me live we could have infinite riches, whatever your heart desir-''
Arthur cheerily popped down the slider on the toaster and busied himself making some tea.
|
[ WP ] You and your cohorts have pulled off your heist as planned . Later , in your hideout , you see TV reports that the payload you hijacked is lethally radioactive
|
`` Relax, it's over, and nobody got killed.'' Dan said, pulling a long drag off his cigarette.
Rob seemed visibly agitated. `` Could you open your window? I do n't want to be breathing your smoke.''
Dan looked at Mike in the rear view mirror and rolled his eyes, while making a grand gesture of rolling down his window. `` Is that better princess?'' he scoffed.
`` I'm not a smoker. I should n't have to breathe in your cancer breath, asshole.'' Rob shot back.
`` Fine, fine.'' Dan said dismissively. `` What you thinking about back there? You're being awfully quiet. You're not shaken up are you?''
Mike thought for a moment, then replied `` I'm just thinking about the truck driver. You think he's okay?''
`` This was n't my first rodeo, bud. I know this is new to you but I've smacked down more than a few fuckers. He's fine. The gas station attendant will find him, call an ambulance or the police, and he'll get treated. Besides, it'll only be a slight concussion.'' replied Dan confidently.
`` I think I'll feel much better by the time we get this all tucked away.'' said Mike.
`` I think we all will.'' agreed Rob.
The three drove on through the rugged desert in silence as the sun set behind the mountains in the distance. After some time the headlights caught a sign with `` NO TRESPASSING'' forbidding randoms from entering. Mike could n't help but wonder who the hell would be out here in the middle of nowhere to receive the sign's warning.
Dan parked the truck and the three young men climbed out of the cab and walked to the back to take a look at the cargo.
`` What the hell is this shit anyway?'' demanded Rob.
`` I do n't know. Some kind of medical equipment for the hospital they're building upstate.'' Dan answered. `` The client said he needed all the equipment in this truck, no questions asked.''
`` That's kind of a fucked up thing to steal.'' said Mike. `` It's for a hospital?''
`` It *was* for a hospital.'' Dan retorted with a grin.
Mike could n't stand this guy. What a smug, morally reprehensible asshole. But then again, if you're judged by the company you keep, he was in no place to judge his collaborators. Besides, he needed the money to treat his daughter's aortic valve, and that was going to bankrupt his young family. The irony of stealing medical equipment to pay for his daughter's hospital bills was not lost on him, but to be honest, after dropping out of school in 9th grade, he was n't really sure if that was actually irony. This was just something he had to do.
The guys unhitched the trailer and parked the truck inside the large hanger they were going to call home base until the client came to pick up the cargo, whenever the hell that was going to be. Dan approached the container in the back.
`` I do n't think you should touch anything'' Rob warned. The client might be pissed if they think we tampered with it or something''.
`` They wo n't know. Besides, are n't you a bit curious what we risked our personal freedom to steal?'' Dan shot back.
Dan opened the box without hesitation. Inside were discs. Little yellow discs. They had radioactive labels on them. Mike felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
`` That's it?'' asked Dan. `` We went through all this trouble for these little pieces of shit? I was hoping there's be something more exciting.''
`` It's not dangerous is it?'' asked Rob.
`` I do n't know.'' said Dan. `` I'm not a scientist.''
Mike had seen these signs before when he was waiting for his daughter to get the x-rays and MRIs that would ultimately bankrupt him. He remembered holding her little hands while she was trying so hard to be a brave girl for daddy.
`` Lets just close it up. Please. Whatever that is it ca n't be good for us.'' he said.
`` Come on, it's for a hospital. It's got ta be good for us!'' Dan laughed as he closed the lid on the remarkably heavy container the discs were in.
With the work all done, Dan opened up three bottles of beer, and the three toasted to their successful first mission as a crew of petty thieves. Mike felt utterly ashamed in partaking of the celebration, but what else was he going to do? It was too late to un-ring this bell. They sat down and continued to drink beers and watch television and the shitty old CRT set sitting on a work bench.
It was Rob who first began to get sick. `` I'll be back in a minute. Something's not sitting right.'' he said, getting up with a sense of urgency.
`` Do n't sweat it!'' dan yelled after him. `` It's the adrenaline. It makes some people have to shit. Took you long enough though.'' he laughed. `` Usually I got ta shit right on location.'' he confided in Mike.
Mike was repulsed at the thought of Dan shitting in the middle of a B & E, but his thoughts were cut short by the sounds of Rob's violent retching coming from the shitter. He shot an alarmed glance at Dan, who simply shrugged it off and took another sip from his beer.
`` Pussy.'' said Dan.
Just as Rob came back Mike began to feel it too. He bolted from his seat as Dan chided `` Not you too? Pussies.''
*I hope I did n't catch something from these losers. * he thought to himself. He wanted, no he *needed* to get back to his family by the morning or they'd get suspicious. His baby girl needed to get to the doctor for a check up, and possibly be admitted to the hospital for more tests before the surgery.
He walked briskly, then into a fast stride, and then a panicked gallop as he felt his lunch rushing up his throat. He barely got it all into the toilet as it erupted from his mouth and nose searing his nostrils. He almost began to choke on his own vomit but he fought the urge to panic and got himself together, cleaned himself off as best he could, and joined the other two still watching TV.
`` You too huh?'' asked Rob showing a genuine concern that Dan was incapable of exhibiting.
`` That came on suddenly. I hope we're not getting sick.'' said Mike.
`` Change the channel while your there? And get me another beer!'' demanded Dan.
`` I'm not your fucking maid'' Mike spit as he change the channel on the old TV set. He stopped on the news where an anchor was reporting the details of their heist.
`` Wait! Turn it up! We're famous!'' Dan said with the enthusiasm of a kid seeing themselves on TV.
continued...
|
[ WP ] Jesus has returned , but before he can be the savior mankind expects he 's got to survive grade school .
|
A Reading From The Gospel of Kevin
***********************
I, Kevin the Brooklynite, call unto you to make it known the works of the childhood our returned Lord and Saviour, his holiness in his second incarnation, all his mighty deeds, even all those which he did before his name became known.
This little child Jesus, when he was just 6 years of age, was gathered around a craft table with his bretheren. There he commanded that the crayons and markers be cleared into their appropriate places. And they did so, commanded by his word alone. And having found the Play-Doh, he did form it into 12 small racecars, which by his decree came to be in motion. There were many other children which joined him in playing with the racecars.
And a certain boy, knowing that what he had seen Jesus perform with the Play-Doh was forbidden during quiet reading time departed immediately and told his teacher: Lo, thy student Jesus hat created 12 racecars and set them in motion, and hath polluted the sacred quiet reading time. And the teacher came to his craft table and cried: Why does thou do such things during quiet reading time which are not lawful to do? But Jesus clapped his hands and the little racecars drove out the door and away from the teacher. When the teacher saw it they were amazed, and told the principal that which the had seen Jesus do.
But Trevor, the son of Andrew the Plumber was standing there at the craft table, and he took his shoe and stood upon the Play-Doh, squashing it until it was no longer mallable. And when Jesus saw what was done he looked upon him with wrath and cried: O Evil, Ungoldy one, what did the Play-doh do to harm you? You foolish child, behold, let yourself also be diminished, taken of life like a deflated balloon after a birthday party! And straightaway the child was struck with an athsma attack, but Jesus departed and returned home.
But when Jesus returned home, his father Joseph admonished him: How darest though perform such sins upon fellow children! You are deserving of nought but a grounding! The Parents and Teachers Association hath discarded your loving mother for your misdeeds! But Jesus replied: I know your words are not your words, but those forced upon you by the PPTA. For your sake and the sake of my mother I shall hold my tongue, but those who have accused me shall bear my punishment. And those who had accused him and outcast his mother were struck with an infestation of head lice.
Now, his father Joseph had spoken to a well-regarded child psychologist by the name of Zacharius, who marvelled greatly at the way Jesus spoke, which was particularly advanced for his age. He pondered whether the child may have a form of autism. So he took Jesus from his regular class and placed him in a special education class. There the teacher told Jesus: I shall teach you of the alphabet, and the times tables. But Jesus replied: How can you teach me the alphabet? How can you teach me of Beta when you do not even know of the Alpha? How can you teach me of multiplication when you do not know of the Omega who multipled all that there is? This confounded the teacher, who had prepared only to teach Jesus of the english alphabet, and was not sufficiently profient in Greek for such an advanced student.
Now when Zachariuss the Child Psychologist heard of the profiency with which the child spoke of the Greek alphabet, he was perplexed and ashamed, for he was unable to perform his duties of diagnosis and was afraid of the child's powers. He said to the childs parents: Take him away, I have failed thee. I can not take the severity of his gaze, for I fear he is much wiser than even I, with my PHD from Princeton. This child is not of this world, this child is one that can bend fire and change hearts. What is wrong with your womb, Mary? How could you birth such a creature? My good name shall be besmirched throughout my entire profession, I shall be shamed into early retirement, for I was bested by a young child. I beg of you Jospeh, take him away from me, for he is either God or Demon, and I am afraid.
And as his secretary comforted Zaccharius, the young child laughed and said: Let all those who have had athsma be given clean lung, let all those with head lice be pure, let all those with peanut allergy be freed. Let all those who besmerched me see that they were wrong. I have come from above to lead them and to free them, as saviour and as king. But they shall know that he who is above has given me powers to curse them. And after the child finished speaking all those whom he had cursed were made whole.
After that no man dared dared provoke him, lest he be cursed or maimed. After that no child dared squash his Play-Doh, because they knew of his great power and began to see him as their leader. After that no teacher talked poorly of his reading ability, for they knew he was greater than any of them.
This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
|
[ WP ] Begin and end your story with this sentence : `` And yet , the city remained . ''
|
And yet, the city remained.
The heat in the city was nothing short of scorching. The normal vibrant city, a melange of colors and energies was restrained, like an invisible hand grabbing the collar of a runner, pulling him backwards and causing him to lose all balance. The regular pace of the city was replaced with a reluctant crawl.
And I couldn ’ t help but chuckle to see the young suffer for at least moment. I am not a vengeful man by nature. I am not a spiteful man. But over the years, I found my strength waning. At first, I no longer had the energy to swat away the flies. But now, I no longer have the desire. So as I walk down the narrow sidewalk, I can hardly hide my pleasure.
Each pedestrian passing me is covered in a dirty sweat. “ Good afternoon ” I say to a woman pushing a baby stroller. She nods her head and reaches her arm across her forehead to wipe off the perspiration, but instead only succeeded in smearing her makeup.
A jogger on the side of the road stops in the middle of the street and arches his back as if broadcasting that he is done for the day.
A heat like this is rare. The trees, normally revitalized by the sun, instead droop in shame. I feel a certain embarrassment over my own giddiness. Tomorrow it is supposed to rain and will wash away the gloom. And the next day, the sun will come out and the runners will run. The children will be forced by their parents to come outside and frolic and play, away from their video games.
The heat is so great I sit down on a stoop on the sidewalk and create a makeshift fan out of some discarded delivery menus. I am suddenly brought to tears as I see a crack in the road. The heat melted the road, exposing a small bit of cobblestone underneath the black tar. My tears are invisible, hidden in a mixture of the sweat running down my face. But I don ’ t even worry because I ’ m so rarely looked at. To the young, my wrinkles are a reminder of the frailty of life. My cane is a strange appendage they never could imagine having. Their two arms and two legs serve them fine.
As I look down the street in each direction, I can travel through time. Like the tar on the road, the stores are merely facades covering up their true history. The Verizon store, once Second Avenue Film, run by Mr and Mrs. Kennison. Jack was long dead and I hadn ’ t heard from Mrs. Kennison in years. Perhaps she had moved on as well. Or perhaps she simply moved.
The McDonald ’ s. The Wendys. Even the new hardware store, now illuminated with neon lights and digital marquees, all almost unrecognizable. But the fluorescent signs and polished storefronts can never entirely hide its underbelly. For I still remember. I still remember the street from my youth, from when I ran those cobblestone streets with Edward and Richard. I remember slipping in front of the McDonald's which of course was a Mrs. Elenaor ’ s clothing store. I tripped and cut my knee leaving bits of skin and blood on that street. Perhaps the tar kept that preserved as well.
I grasp the end of my cane and struggle to get up. A car honks. A baby cries. Everyone is on edge this day, fighting to get home to their husbands and wives and air conditioners.
I have no idea how long I will live here. A droplet of sweat falls off my nose onto a cracked piece of pavement. I too, will be covered up soon. The buildings and roads have all been replaced. The creaking wheels replaced with engine revs and subwoofers. The glossy photos replaced with pixels. And the cobblestone covered with black sticky tar.
And yet, the city remained.
|
[ WP ] Write a story about your biggest fear/nightmare . Make me afraid of it , too .
|
When I came to I knew something was very wrong. I was regaining feeling but I could n't move. My whole body ached but my face was searing with pain. It was n't until I turned my head and caught a glimpse of a splay of bloody teeth on my night stand that I realized the numbness in my mouth was n't from lack of feeling but from lack of teeth.
`` You're finally awake!'' The voice was otherworldly. A black shrouded figure approached the bed I was tied to.
`` HOO AHH UUU!'' I tried to scream, but with the lack of teeth in my mouth I could n't enunciate words.
The creature laughed, a sound that reverberated throughout my tortured body.
`` I'm The Tooth Fairy.''
I'd heard of the tooth fairy. The legend goes that on the night of the first full moon of the year if you do n't put money under your pillow the Tooth Fairy steals all your teeth. I should have listened to my little sister.
`` Here, take a look!'' He picked up my scattered teeth, made tiny holes in them, strung them onto a wire, and now hung around my neck. He held a mirror in front of my face so I could really get the whole picture.
I saw my long beautiful hair, still shining in the moonlight, but where my youthful smile once was, was now just an empty whole. I cried as the Tooth Fairy left me and went about his night.
|
[ WP ] Everyone wakes up one day and speaks every language , and understands the nuances and slang of other cultures .
|
Four men are sitting outside a local bar, chatting and drinking beer.
Man 1: `` Qué extraño, ¿eh? La semana pasada, apenas podía hablar una palabra de español, y ahora estoy con fluidez!''
Man 2: `` मैं अंत में मेरी प्रेमिका के माता-पिता मेरे पीछे मेरे बारे में क्या कह रहे हैं समझ सकते हैं। नकारात्मक पक्ष यह है कि वे भी, मुझे समझ सकते है ।''
Man 1: `` Haha । तो तुम ना, अब गूंगा कार्य नहीं कर सकता''
Man 3: `` Eske yo pa tradiktè soti nan yon travay kounye a menm si?''
Man 4: `` Bon pwen. Ki fè nou plis chans yo ka resevwa yon pi bon travay kounye a, yo te bileng?''
Man 1: `` Not really, not if everyone does. It's not really a special skill anymore. And it's not even bilingual..It's like... All-lingual.''
They all laugh, agreeing, and make a toast. Suddenly a man and woman walk up to them, looking rather confused. Figuring they need directions, Man 1 offers to help them out, but all they're doing is waving their hands around. The four men meet the couple's blank stare.
Man 4: `` English? What about English?''
Man 2: `` Oh merde, sont-ils sourds?''
Man 3: `` Uh... any of you guys know sign language?''
Man 1, 2, 3 & 4: ``... Shit.''
|
[ WP ] You are dead , but before you can go on to heaven or hell , you must meet all the people you could 've been .
|
CONTENT WARNING: SUICIDE
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I could n't take it anymore.. I had ended it all. At least I thought I had, anyway. I was surprised to find myself some place unfamiliar. I remembered the sound of the bullet leaving the chamber, the instant of blinding pain, and then.. I was *here*.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; There was an absense of things to see. It was n't dark. It was n't light. There was nothing before me but a path in the darkness, and a figure stood in my path. With nothing to do but move forward, I approached the figure.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Before me was a bearded man, in thick robes, shaggy hair that appeared to have gone white with age, in stark contrast of his tanned complexion. He appeared to be reading a book, though I could not see the title of it. He looked up at me, and spoke. The words, I somehow knew, were n't English, but I understood them all the same.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I am Shemayon Keppa,'' He said, `` Welcome to the path. The Gates are ahead.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Path? Gates? Where am I?''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' You have died. You are on the path to your final rest.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I sat down heavily. `` I... I'm going to Hell, are n't I?'' I asked, stuttering a bit at first.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' That is not for me to decide, but before you are given to one or the other, you must walk forward. You must follow the path. And you must face all that you might have been.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I whimpered slightly, cringing at the very idea, `` Sounds like Hell already,'' I said.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Oh? I could think of far worse fates than meeting what might have been,'' said Shemayon.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' So could I, to be honest, but seeing what might have been when I have committed suicide promises to be unpleasant,'' I said.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Shemayon looked down at me, and reached forward with a hand. `` I am sorry to hear that, but it is something we all must face. I faced it when I first died, and I was one of the disciples of Yeshua.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I took the proffered hand and he had a surprisingly strong grip, belying his appearance of an old man. He pulled me to my feet and gave me a gentle shove, `` Now. Walk.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; And I walked.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I soon came face to face with myself. Just as I was, only with a noose around my neck.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I shuddered and walked on.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Next came another me. This one in a bath? I was naked. Blood flowed around my body, like an ethereal aura in red. I then realized this version of me had slit his wrists.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I retched. I was sure I would have vomited if I was capable of it.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I continued forward, seeing more versions of myself, all dead by my own hand. I wept as I continued along the path, barely even able to see what I had done to myself with this latest iteration. I collapsed to the ground, unable to continue farther.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I lost track of how long I lay there praying for my existence to simply end, until I felt someone jostle me. I looked up to see my own smiling face. This was the first version I saw of myself alive. He looked... Normal. He sat down before me, gathered me into his arms as if I were a child, and said, `` Now now, you'll be alright. Shhh...''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' How can I possibly be alright? I'm dead, and I have n't even reached Hell and already I'm tormented!'' I screamed at myself.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; He looked at me and shook his head. `` There is something you're not quite understanding yet. Stand up,'' he said, releasing me.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I got to my feet, shivering, while my doppelgänger held my shoulders and kept me from falling. `` What do n't I understand?''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' What's at the end of the path,'' he said.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' What is it?''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I ca n't tell you. You have to learn on your own, by walking. I can walk with you for a bit, but this journey is ultimately yours.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; We walked forward together for a little bit. `` How do you even know?'' I finally inquired, as we walked by my body, washed ashore, apparently after jumping off a nearby bridge.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I'm part of this place,'' he explained.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Any advice?''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Know thyself. That's probably the best advice I can offer you at the moment,'' he answered, as we started passing by living iterations of me. One destitute, unshaven, dressed in rags, his eyes glazed with a vacant grin on his face. Another dressed in a suit, and looking rich, but with a miserable expression on his face. Still another looking exhausted and dressed in a business suit.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I stared at them and realized I knew them. The transient lived a short life, died quite young due to an accidental overdose. The millionaire made his way to the top, but found his existence empty. The businessman was working himself to death.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' It's time for you to go on your own,'' my companion said, `` You should be able to make to the end of the path now, I think.'' He gave me a smile, which I vaguely remembered from a mirror a long time ago, and faded from view.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I looked down, for a moment, then collected myself, and marched on. More proxies came forward, more flashes of understanding. Another millionaire, this one far happier than the other one, another transient, utterly miserable and cold, dying from frostbite, and a businessman, standing proud of his achievements. A middle class father. A university professor. A bartender. It went on and on. Not all of them were men either. Some were women. When I looked and I knew that some part of my existence felt I was a woman, though it was a small part, given the number women compared to the rest.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; And then there was nothing left. I just stood before a gate. I could not even see it clearly. They opened and Shemayon stepped out of them. `` You made it to the gates. Do you understand now?''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Yes. This path was n't about what could have been. This path was about all that I am.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Shemayon nodded, acknowledging my words. `` You are correct. Please, go through the gates, and you will find what is coming to you.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I stepped forward, then stopped. `` You helped me on the path, did n't you?''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Shemayon looked at me, his eyes piercing my soul. `` Your path was a hard one. It always is for one who takes their own life. Now. Please step through the gates.''
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I took another step forward. One more step and I would be through the gate. I went through the gate, and stopped just inside. As the gate slammed shut behind me it occurred to me that Shemayon had not answered my question, then I saw nothing...
***
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; A sharp bang issued from the television in front of me. The main character had just executed one of the villains. I looked down at my hand, yelped, and threw the pistol away. I walked over to my phone and picked it up.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I stared at it for a long moment, then, almost robotically, I started dialing. `` Hello?'' I said into the phone, `` I need help. I tried to kill myself.''
|
[ WP ] You wear a watch that does not work .
|
They said I would break. They said I would break. They said I would break. They were wrong. They said that I could n't survive without them, without her. They said I would break. They said I would break. They said I sat and played games too long. They said I was a slave to her. They said I was attached to my phone. They said I would break. They said I would break. They said I would n't survive alone. They said I was insane and to call them out on their doubts. They said I could n't survive above with only a knife and a watch. They said I would break. They said I would break. I said I could survive. I said I would show them. I did n't wave or look back when I walked into the forest. I did n't so walking for two days. I did n't think I could survive. I did n't know where I was. I did know what time it was though, and that made it so much worse. I survived on birds and hunted small things. I heard the watch tick away night after night. I heard them laughing. They thought I would break. They thought I would break. I made simple clothes from skins. I found a cave to shelter in. I lived where they thought I would break. They thought I break. I did n't break. One day the watch broke. But I did n't break. I could n't break. I would n't break. They were n't there anymore. There was only me. I like me. I know me. I know I'll never give up on me and he'll do the same. I thought I would break. I look at the watch every day now, sitting above in my cave. Eating the hunt from the day, and remember the old me. Remember the old days and the life that was so empty. I thought I would break. I thought I would break. But we did n't know. We were already broken and needed time to be fixed.
|
[ WP ] You are a professional pickpocket . You 've just picked someones pocket only to discover that the thing you have stolen is truly horrifying .
|
I pulled my hand out of his pocket. Completely unnoticed, of course. Positioning my hand into a loose fist, the booty was safe in the cavity between my palm and fingers; my thumb sealed the opening. The young man seemed to notice a weight previously pressing against his behind was missing. At the McDonald's we were in, there were roughly 30 people in the lobby. If I were to make one slip up, he could easily recognise my assymetrical hands. I correctly that immediately. The sweatiness was not so easy to correct. I prayed he would chalk that up to the 4 double cheeseburgers with extra mayo and onions I had desecrated at my table.
He finished at the counter and sat down close to the teller. Walking up to the counter to complain to the manager and get a free burger, he gave me a hairy eyeball. This was bad; normally I try to pick targets that seem too incontinent and self absorbed to notice anything missing. The mass in my hand seemed to drag itself into the ground. I held my other hand out and retrieved my burger; I had done this so many times before, it was robotic.
As I sat back at my table, I felt a tapping on my shoulder. There was no way this was not the man I robbed. I turned around to see a clothed face. `` Return to me what is mine.'' My hand guided itself into the man's pocket and deposited the object; it felt slimy. How had I not noticed this before? As my hand rested back on the table, the smell hit me. It was wretched and permeating. The man was still standing over me.
He patted his back pocket. A slurping sound cut through the pop music playing on the speakers. The dark, visible portion of skin under the mask seemed to move and shine. He sat down at his table following a laboured walk to the table. I was agitated and anxious. Was he going to call the police? He was n't going to attack me; his walk was weak and geriatric.
I needed to leave, but a pit stop seemed like a good idea. Sitting at the toilet, I knew I would need at least 15 minutes the pass this McDonald's. As if cued by that thought, the door opened politely. A figure appeared in the crack in the stall. The door opened as the man seemed to materialize out of a darkness in the mirrors light. I was terrified and curious. `` I need it'', he hissed, and just like that, he took his clothes off.
A robot powered by poop-filled hydraulic tubes stood before me. In the area where his back pocket was, there was an open tube. Before I could process all of this, he overpowered me, and bent be over the toilet. He pressed his open tube up to me, so we were ass to ass. That slurping sound returned, and I felt my insides being sucked out of me.
When I awoke, I felt weak. A husk of my former self. I was still in the stall, sitting on the toilet. Did I eat too many double cheeseburgers? Was I mad? I figured I should get out of there as soon as possible. I tried to finish my business and heard that slurping sound coming from my behind. Anxiety got the best of me, and I tried to evacuate the McDonald's as fast as my feet could carry me... Which was apparently a difficult ordeal.
As I opened the bathroom door, I saw something that made the slurping sound return: myself. I tried to scream, but all that came out was `` Return to me what is mine''. I ran back into the bathroom, and looked in the mirror. This could n't be happening. I went back out to see myself again to catch myself starting my car and leaving. Running to the door, I tried to catch my attention, but I could n't bring myself to leave the restaurant. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to pull the door. It was as if my brain shut off with the thought of leaving. I fell down and sat on a chair, when I felt a squish. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the object.
It was a nugget of poop.
|
[ WP ] Try to convince me that E is the best letter without using the letter E
|
Wow, cowvin and'gab' of posts adjoining this! I think both wordsmiths did an OK job - but I do n't favour taking that approach too far, for'Y' is just a quisling daring to stand in sounding positions among or following consonants, too much akin to this thing Duckniggits asks us to avoid all using of, and so its utilisation is an invalid solution.
For this man's part, I'll avow how that upright, brick-solid, right-branching form with its two main pronunciations - a sound imitating trains stopping at a siding, or in various short words that of a cupboard door swinging a bit ajar ( also a grunt known to phonologists as'schwa' ) - though it is of origins unknown and unsung ( barring this frantic missal ) still, as statistics confirm, this obvious non-participant in an ambitious digital author ’ s scrawl is ubiquitous and most popular of all its non-vocal-friction-involving siblings, without which a million gaps drop into all talk and print. Its loss would bring so much havoc that to do without it would in fact harm thought; such a strict ban also stands to limit to nigh-on sod-all what thoughtful sorts from London to Toronto could discuss about its own actual going into oblivion!
In rushing to join such a discussion now, I'm afraid that, just as might an ill-struck match, such poor imagination as that inspiring this post lights up at first, and now turns black, is all charcoal in a flash, sagging.... Oh what to do without input from this vital, fifth switch of our standard bank of linguistic signs? How to disarm Duckniggits of his doubts as to such a conundrum's solving: Is it right to hold this squarish ( or, if not standing as capital, small and spiral, sort of huddling ) figuration of ink as bound for topmost rank; as first of all roman icons; as prior ( in an abstract fashion I'll admit ) to A, B, C and D? Hmm. I now know, having put all this down, that rumination aloud on our topic of frivolous constraints against holistic writing is – alas - too tough a task for humankind to maintain for paragraph on paragraph.
|
[ CW ] Write a murder mystery involving a stuffed dinosaur , the beastie boys , and set in 1940s New York .
|
The Beastie Boys were in a New York recording studio. The track was playing. `` Intergalactic Planetary! Planetary Intergalactic! Another Dimension! Another Dimension!'' And with that they were transported through space and time. They met a race of intergalactic dinosaurs. They specialized in hyper-dimensional travel, and music criticism. But one of the Dinosaurs most famous prisoners had escaped a maximum security. The elder Dinosaurs suspected that their convict had traveled to 1940s New York. The Beastie Boys were eager to return to planet earth, even if it meant spending the rest of their lives in the past.
The Beasties took with them the likeness of the escapee. Purple skinned and green bellied stuffed dinosaur toy. He catered to children with horrible music that was hated by Elder dinosaurs top music critics. This purple dinosaur's name was Barney. He had been suspected of taking the life of the dinosaur's most celebrated music critic. Or rather, the music critic had committed suicide after listening to one of Barney's musical recordings. It was up to the Beastie Boys to either prove Barney's innocence or guilt.
|
[ WP ] Write an erotic story using the worst slang terms possible for each act/body part .
|
I have actually discussed which phrases used in erotica are the most uncomfortable with friends. I'll give a shot.
`` Oh yehhhhh,'' Helga moaned as Igor pistoned his thick meat into her beef curtains.
`` Yeah, yeah, take it woman'' Igor hissed as he continued to jackhammer her poontang with his thickness.
`` Put it in my poop pucker'' Helga ravenously requested - Igor was all too excited to oblige.
As Igor's strawberry-pink tip pushed against Helga's brown mound she let out a soft whimper. After a few minutes of Igor's one-eyed snake flicking in and out of her butt, Helga thought of another request, this one would even be considered romantic.
`` Gag me with my butt-juice, Igor'' she demanded. `` Make me your dick slave.''
Igor began to pump Helga's mouth with a ferocity previously known only to 6-cylinder engines and honey badgers in heat.
`` Helga I'm ( enters Phantom of the Opera scene ) *paaaaaast the point of noooo RETURN*... *The final THRESHOLD, * *What warm unspoken secrets will we learn?
Beyond the point of noooooo return. *''
`` FILL MY THROAT WITH YOUR BABY GRAVY'' Helga calmy replied.
Igor busted a nut into Helga's mouth, and she gulped it down like the naughty gurl she be, and it was finished.
I'm probably on a list now.
|
[ WP ] Every person in the world develops a weird mutation/power the day they turn 16 . Everyone 's powers are always different , some more insignificant than others . You turn 16 , and watch as all your friends discover their newfound ability 's . That is , until you discover the severity of your own .
|
It was all they had talked about on TV for the last year and Jack was pleased that it would be over tomorrow. Politics had always bored him. Jack was too young to remember when her husband or his brother had been president, never mind his father. Jack was just glad he didn ’ t have to go to school, and could go to see Doctor Strange that just came out with his friends.
There was a beep of a horn outside as the twins ’ mom arrived pick him up. He left, slamming the door behind him and climbed into the back of the minivan with Alex and Josh. “ How cool would it have been if this was tomorrow instead Jack? ”
“ Shut up! ” yelled Alex, for what was probably the thousandth time that day, punching his brother in the arm. Jack laughed, silently agreeing that he would have much rather had his birthday off than a stupid election. Jack and the twins mothers had met in hospital, and had remained friends in the 16 years that had followed.
They pulled up in the cinema lot, and Alex ’ s mom dropped them off and they headed in, “ If you could have any superpower what would it be? ” asked Alex.
“ I ’ d want to have a suit like Iron Man ” Jack replied
“ Yeah, but that ’ s not a super *power* though is it?, I ’ d be invisible, hang out in the girls locker room all day ”
“ You ’ re such a perv Alex! ” Josh began, “ You ’ re always... ” A loud bang and flash of light cut him off, the building shook and the power went out. They looked around confused, wondering what had happened, always the curious one Josh ran back outside. Jack looked at Alex, not that he ’ d be much use as to what was going on, the only thing he knew about was girls, Jack would never admit it but he was jealous. Josh came running back in “ There ’ s sirens everywhere out there the police have blocked off the parking lot. ” He was like an excited puppy, but Jack detected just a touch of fear in his voice. The doors to the cinema opened and men walked in wearing white suits covering them from head to toe. “ Just like in the movies. ” Jack quipped. A loud speaker began broadcasting that everyone present had to form an orderly line and await further instructions. The officers in the white suits began taking people one at a time. Josh was first, the officers led him from the foyer and into one of the waiting vehicles. Jack was next. “ What ’ s going on? ” He asked.
“ Please remain silent and accompany us. ” His voice was firm. Jack got into the car but he was afraid.
“ Please? ” Jack begged, “ tell me what ’ s going on ”
“ Officer Bryan, he ’ s not co-operating, sedate him ” The second officer stuck a syringe into Jack and his eyes closed.
Jack awoke to find his mom at his bed side. He looked around, he was in his own room.
“ Happy Birthday Jackie ” His mom smiled.
“ What Happened? ” Jack couldn ’ t remember much just a bang, then the men in white.
“ There was an attack, some sort of bomb, but no-one was hurt, you ’ ll be pleased to know the school ’ s are closed though, Now how about I make you pancakes? ”
No School? He remembered Josh in the car the day before, and reached for his phone “ Looks like you got your wish ” He texted “ Happy Birthday! Get Alex and come over. ”
His phone buzzed, Josh, “ XD kl ”. Jack threw his phone down, Josh was a terrible texter. Jack rolled out of bed and headed downstairs, he was still wearing the same clothes from the day before and his head was fuzzy. His pancakes were sitting on the counter, his mom had headed off for work. The front door opened and he heard a cough, “ Hey man ” It was Alex ’ s voice.
“ In here. ” Jack called through. Alex and Josh entered the kitchen, Josh coughing again. “ Will you knock it off with the coughing? ” Yelled Alex, his temper was always short with his brother.
“ I can ’ t help it, I ’ ve been coughing all day ” He replied.
“ Wan na play Xbox? ” Jack asked.
“ Cool ” the twins replied as one. It always creeped Jack out when they did that, like they could read each other ’ s minds.
“ Hey look! ” yelled Alex, “ I ’ m the oldest now, I ’ m the only one that ’ s 16! ” Alex had been born ten minutes before his brother, and it had been another half hour or so until Jack had came along and he always liked to remind them that he was, in fact, the oldest. Josh coughed again. “ WILL YOU SHUT UP! ” Alex screamed, punching his brother. Josh went flying across the room into the wall. Jack stared at Alex, he was looked as confused as Jack was.
“ Josh? ” asked Alex, “ Are you ok? ” Josh slowly began to stand up and leaned against the wall. He looked at his brother, confused at how he had managed to propel him across the room. He was dazed. Confused. He coughed. A burst of flames shot from his mouth.
Jack stood between his two friends, looking at them and wondering what the hell was going on.
“ Can you... Do that again? “ asked Alex. Josh coughed again, another burst of flames shot from his mouth. “ That ’ s so cool! ” Alex hit the table in his excitement and it snapped in half “ Oh.... Sorry Jack... ” Jack backed out of the room slowly. He had no idea what the hell was going on, was he still asleep? He slapped himself to make sure. Nope that was real. His cheek was stinging now. He went upstairs, Josh and Alex were probably burning and breaking things in the kitchen. Jack sat on his bed, he didn ’ t understand it, If only it was yesterday again, things had been normal then. He heard the beep of a car horn, followed by the slamming of his front door, he reached for his remote and turned the TV on, more speculation about the election. Dammit.
|
[ WP ] When you die , you do n't go to the afterlife of you 're religion , you go to the afterlife of the religion whose tenets you followed most closely , knowingly or not .
|
Baxter walked down the long tunnel of light. It grew brighter and brighter until his eyes began to water. Finally, the light abated and he found himself at the ticketing counter at O'Hare.
He took a couple shuffling steps toward the counter.
`` Umm, hello?''
A rather short man climbed his way up onto the counter.
`` Greetings, young traveler,'' the man said in a vice much deeper than his stature suggested. `` Welcome to your Terminal Destination.''
Baxter looked around at the empty ticket lines. `` Are you saying I'm dead?''
`` Well, of course you are. Traffic does n't stop in Chicago.''
`` I'm dead?'' Baxter repeated.
`` Yes and unless you want to miss your flight, you'll need to get your ticket.''
Baxter blinked at the short man on the counter. `` I'm sorry, this does n't sound at all like what Sunday School told me. Where's St. Peter? The Pearly Gates?''
The short man shook his head. `` I hate to ask, but I need to see your ID.''
Baxter instinctively pulled out his wallet and handed his ID over. The little man hopped down from the counter and started punching the keys of his computer terminal.
`` Let's see here... Baxter T. Jeffries. Age 43. Hmm, looks like you're booked on Methodist Airline departing for Heaven in a little while, but they've marked here that you have to check in at the gate.''
Baxter shrugged an took the ticket from the man. `` I travelled plenty in my life, which way to security?''
The little man laughed. `` Security? What are you going to re-kill people? Hijack a flight to Heaven and take it to Valhalla? Get outta here you kooky corpse.''
Baxter watched as the little man walked toward the office door, still shaking with laughter.
`` Okay. That was the weirdest thing ever.''
Baxter walked down the terminal until he found a familiar cross with flame symbol. It'd been years since he stopped going to church, but he still recognized the Methodist symbol. He gripped his ticket, took a deep breath and walked to the gate counter.
`` Um, hi. I'm Baxter Jeffries, I have a ticket to Heaven?'' He said to the blue clad angel running the desk.
The angel took his ticket and started punching codes into the computer. `` Mr. Jeffries, you were raised Methodist, correct?''
`` Yes, sir, it is.''
`` But you left the church at the age of sixteen. Because you, let me see here, ah here it is you quote were too old to believe in stupid fairy tales anymore. End quote.''
Baxter felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. `` Yeah, well, I was a rebellious youth.''
`` Yes, but you continued to live your life as an atheist until you were struck by a food truck and died.''
`` Well, I guess so.''
The angel smiled at Baxter. `` I'm, sorry sir, but your ticket to Heaven is hereby revoked.'' The angel ripped the ticket up.
`` Wait, you ca n't do that! Where am I supposed to go now?''
The angel pointed over to a group of men in suits begging sitting in the middle of the food court. Baxter walked over to the men.
One of them looked up as he approached. `` Spare some change, mister?'' Baxter just shook his head and sat down with them.
As he sat down, a woman and a small child were walking past, each with tickets. The child stopped and was about to say something, but the mother shooed him on.
`` Do n't talk to them Joey.''
`` What are they, mommy?''
`` Atheists.''
`` What are atheists?''
`` People that are all dressed up with nowhere to go.'' They hurried on to their gate.
***
***You can find more of my work at /r/thestormcellar hope you enjoy! ***
|
[ WP ] You wake up in Oregon to a `` sunrise '' over the Pacific Ocean .
|
Blinding light found its way through the blinds and into my room. The wrong side for the sun, the reason I've never been up this early. It did n't need to wake the rest of my family up, seated as they all were around the kitchen table. We all knew what the light meant, we had been counting down to this day for quite some time. It was just as beautiful as the sunrise we knew we would see on the other side, but infinitely more ominous than the start of another day. Nobody said a word, nobody got ready for the day. We had mentioned to keep our heads up, but now that the day was here it brought everything into reality. I know my parents believed that a rapture was coming soon, but I doubt they ever believed it wold be by the hand of man, leaving the obsolete behind.
The Earth was dying, we knew that much. People, important people, they would start again somewhere else. The government said they only had time to build one ship, and it was regretful but some people had to be left behind. There would be due process, but there simply was n't the space for everyone with the resources they could muster. How hollow those words had rang when they first made the announcement. Nobody would say it, but we all knew that the people that lived like us, simple people, had been condemned to a prison that was the planet we once loved. It was hard to be mad about it, the fault of all this lying with the generations before us. Of course, there were some that rebelled against being kept on this world. That anger, that inability to reason, that's what brought the twin sun today.
The ship would be checked and rechecked of course. Something so mundane as a mechanical failure would not spell the death of the human race. Likely we would never know the real cause, but we have a few years left here to speculate. Dad says the ship made it a decent ways into the atmosphere before the explosion. We all secretly hoped it would make it all the way. Why could n't everyone understand, like we could, that sacrifice was necessary? It was n't a punishment to be left behind, it was just the way it was. No, there had always been and there always would be those that could n't deal with not getting their way.
My bet is on a passenger jet, maybe a couple to get around the no-fly zone, ramming into those poor fools that actually thought the rest of humanity would let them carry on our legacy. It does n't matter; nothing really does now. When the lights in the sky burn out they'll do so alongside the light of humanity. The first time the sun rises in the wrong spot, and it does nothing but mark the sunset of our civilization.
|
You 're moments late to literally everything . You watch busses pull away as you run behind them , girls get asked out as you walk up to them , and you have never caught a green light . One day though , you arrive on time . [ WP ]
|
No job. No family. No prospects that come to mind. I'm just sitting here at the stoop of a building, watching the traffic. I do n't even have the will to panhandle at this point. The day has already passed me by, just as every day does. It seems like life has always moved just a little too fast for me.
I watch a man in a suit, cell phone to ear, speed-walking. A to B, with a whole mess of work in between. How do they all keep up?
A little girl heads toward me from across the street. She carries some change in her hand. Some people still have time to be sweet. Oh, she dropped some. She's bending down to pick it up- she does n't notice the truck! I spring to my feet. It's faster than I've ever felt I've moved. It's instinct. I bolt. It seems like I'm fighting against my own nature. I can feel the air resisting me, the ground wanting to grab my feet and hold them, voices saying *Stop. Slow down. You'll never make it... *
I dive and grab the girl and hold her close and we roll out of the way as the truck swerves and skids and blares its horn. We both lay there in the street as a crowd forms around us. It may be the shock or the adrenaline or some trick of the mind but I swear, over there, past the crowd, is a shadowy figure, Death himself, walking away. Maybe he was expecting things to go differently. Too bad. I guess he'll have to wait.
|
[ WP ] The world 's oldest , most powerful wizard has had enough of his life . After two thousand years of adventure and magic he desires normalcy . Today is his first day at work as a janitor for an office building . He 's determined to fit in and not use his powers . How does it go ?
|
The city of Jurn had grown in the last thousand years. Humanity had as well.
Gone were the days of hurtling fireballs at orcs or goblins, Now it was sensitivity training and odd nonvolatile soaps and oils. Everyone seemed to stink to everyone else.
Computers hovered over every desk, their ceramic, gold, and peal components connecting everyone to everyone else.
Magic and man both had gone from blunt massive instruments to quick, cunning, and engineered.
Another young elf walked by arm and arm with a young orc. They were laughing at something.
The longer lived races stayed out of the cities, their history's too much to get over. But their children flooded in. New technology and advancements meant steady jobs, and good futures.
There was still racism of course but most disapproved of it.
The impossibly thin tower rose up and up disappearing into the clouds. Those flashing their coin wore metal arm-bands with logos of various manufacturing companies.
The orc bent down and kiss the elf before stepping back. The elf whispered the activation word and the arm band wrapped her in a spell of flight. She lifted up gently at first then did a quick flip ad swooped back down planting a kiss on the orc's cheek before heading up.
Marcus simply smiled. He wore nothing but plain clothes, clean and well mintained but utterly without adornment.
His arms were bare, even under the sleeves, his fingers devoid of rings, his neck unadorned with jewelry.
In the fact the only object he had that was not clothing was the pipe hanging from his mouth.
The young orc was glaring at him. Did the boy think all old people could n't change their minds about interracial marriage?
Marcus waved vaguely at him and the boy's brow furled. He approached slowly.
`` What's the problem mister?'' The boy said. His hormones hd his muscles flexing, he was ready to fight but he kept himself in check.
`` No problem young man.'' Marcus said.
`` Then you need to get your eyes checked.'' The boy said pointing at a sign near the front of the building: No smoking within thirty feet.
`` Ah.'' Marcus said realizing he had waved t the boy with his pipe in hand. He brought his foot up and tapped the pipe out against the bottom of his boot, then stomped on and ground out the embers. He slid the pipe behind his back and without have to even vocalize the magic deposited it in an extra-dimensional space he carried along with him.
Shit. Marcus winced then excused himself moving briskly past the youth. He had already used his magic and he had n't even reported for work yet.
The lower doors were almost never used. The chairs were dusty and two of the plants had succumbed to a loss of water. There was no one even present at the security desk though when there was he was often sleeping.
The elevator ride took a long time.
The 114th floor was spotless. There were a few bodies already in their small spaces working away shuffling papers and moving finger through the illumined displays of their computers.
Marcus had been asked to report to Mister Whilmbly by seven. It was ten till.
Janet, his sectary let him into the small room and asked him to wait, there, in one of the chairs near the window. Matcus stood as he looked at the objects on display the room. It was easy to tell a lot about anyone if you could see what they surrounded themselves with, be it objects, books, or people.
Mr. Whilmbly was a pompous prick. All his displays were meant to aww the viewer, the most guarded of which was a complete fake though he could n't have known it displaying it like he did in the hopes it impressed.
Marcus felt the teleportation ring activating, he considered shifting the destination to that nice restaurant near fourth and Broadway but denied himself the pleasure.
`` What are you doing in my office!?'' The man bellowed. `` Janet!'' He screamed.
The man was n't his boss, in fact Mr. Whilmbly's boss, worked for the board, who worked for the parent company, who worked for their parent company who worked for Plains-walker Limited. The company Marcus owned. HR had put him on Whilmbly's floor, and even though Marcus's position as a janitor did not answer in any respect to Mr. Whilmbly's position the man wanted this meeting. In fact, Marcus would put even money down that the man had remembered the meeting and was yelling at him to set the tone of the relationship. It was something all those small books with big titles the man had on his shelf would tell a middle manager with no future to do.
As Mr. Whilmbly droned on bout pocket watches and cogs in a machine Marcus was thinking the man needed a good barbarian horde to run with. There was n't really anyway to not get caught up in the hordes rage and aggression. Of course back in those days they were facing off against equally ferocious orcs. Not their mild mannered equivalents with styled hair and decorative ear piercings.
`` Are you even listening to me?!''
`` I'm sorry no, I was lost in thought.''
`` That type of distraction could cost you your job.'' The man said coldly. Marcus nodded letting the man have his tiny moment. It ended quickly enough.
In between blinks Marcus rerouted the incoming teleports to a pad two floors down. It was close enough that the building technicians would put it as the lowest priority to fix while being far enough to drive the small man mad.
He winced gain leaving the office. That was twice, and the day had not yet officially begun.
|
[ WP ] Describe an object within five feet of you in as much detail as possible .
|
It was cold, but at the same time sweating. Just sitting there. It's ridges clearly visible. You could see it just getting wetter and wetter. Slowly, and surely the long shaft entered and just stayed there. Soaking up the moisture, letting it drip down its sides. As time goes on it just gets more and more moist, dripping even. He slowly starts to suck it up, he even licked some of the dripping moisture. As he continues to suck up that moisture, it starts to loose it's feeling. Slowly becoming more and more frigid. Until it is done, then he just pushed it to the side and went to get another.
|
[ WP ] Everything has to be paid for . Every kindness , every favour , every kind word is billable . 'The System ' monitors everybody and submits a monthly bill or credit . The price of each favour is calculated based on the wealth of the giver and that of the receiver .
|
`` No, no, no,'' said my pop as he snatched back a still warm wrap of burrito from the brittle and pale hands of the homeless man. I just offered my lunch to the homeless man, and yet my pop had an audacity to take it back. To my surprise, the homeless man gave it back to my pop without a fight. In fact, he willingly handed it back to my pop. I did n't know what I did wrong, but I could smell the hostility in the air. My pop pulled my arm and dragged me to our car. When I got into the passenger seat, he threw me the wrap of burrito in question. I caught it but it popped open and little pieces of rices and meats fell all over the car seat. I was so appalled at the rashness of my usually kind and generous father.
`` Did your mother taught you nothing?'' asked my pop. I did n't know what he was talking about, so I sat as still as stone statue. I did n't want to drag my mom into this. Besides, I did n't know what to do. My father placed his hands on the steering wheel and pondered for seconds. He turned and asked:
`` Son, do you know about The System?'' asked my pop, louder this time. I shook my head. I had no idea what it was. The skeletal system? The system at the smartphone? I had no idea what to say. Tut tut. My pop clicked his tongue. He only did that when he was showing his disapproval to something. To be frank, I was scared.
`` Ca n't believe how naive Sarah raised you...'' my pop mumbled to himself, but said it loud and clear enough for me to hear it. I was on the verge of tears. As I started to hiccup all terrified, he started the car engine. After driving out of the parking lot, he breathed out a deep sigh and started to talk.
`` Son.'' I did n't answer. I was too scared to answer. `` Son!'' He raised his voice. I turned to him and with squeaking voice said, `` Yes, papa?''
`` Son, I guess it's time I tell you about the System.'' I sat and listened.
`` You see, you had your time with needles, right? At the hospital? Well, uh... where do I begin. Okay, okay. Let me start over. What you did over there was a genuine kindness. I like that you have a kindness in your heart. I am proud of you, in fact. But, with the System, your kindness can be misguided. You see, the government was very very worried about people not like you. People without kindness in their heart. So, they made the System. The System is a... system, that rewards people for being kind.''
I was confused. He was proud of me? Then, why all the anger and the clicking of the tongue? If what I did, by giving that starving man my lunch, was good deed, which I thought it was, why was my pop so against it? The terror washed away from my mind and the curiosity rose. I could tell that my pop was trying to have his father-talk time. The one that he did back when Jimmy, our dog, died. I sat and paid my attention.
`` So, what you did today, if uninterrupted, would have been paid to you at the end of the month. The System pays you. The little tiny robots inside you can determine that and send the signal to the government. Do you understand?'' I nodded. So, the government sees what we do and pays us when we do good things, I understood.
`` But where do you think that money would comes from?'' asked my pop. I sat there and thought for a moment. `` The government?'' I guessed.
`` Ah... yeah. The government. But, where do you think the government gets their money from?'' He asked again. I recalled the last April when my father was jumping up and down and complaining about the tax taking all our money, so I answered, `` You, dad.''
`` Uh... Technically, yes. But for the System, they'd get the money from the recipient of your kindness. For instance, in our case, that homeless person whom you gave your lunch. Do you see why it's troubling to give an unwarranted kindness to strangers? They'll have to pay up sooner or later.'' My father explained. Then, he went on to explain the socio-economic levels of the System and its adjustment to each individual cases, but those talks got too abracadabraish and I got lost. Instead, I contemplated while my father kept on talking about the philosophical design and the ethical purpose of the System to himself.
I thought about my time at home. Miss Flores was a such kind and generous lady. Whenever she baked her batch of homemade cookies, she'd hand them out to the neighborhood kids. And glasses of milk too, should there be a request. For free, or so I thought. Uncle Thomas used to help and play with the kids at the church all the time. With his carpentry skills, Uncle Thomas created toys for the children at the Sunday school. Because he loved the children, or so I thought. Mr. Rumgrain over the street walked around the neighborhood picking up the trashes. `` Hey, hey, hey. Young son, let me do these. You go play with your friends. I can do these,'' Mr. Rumgrain said. For the benevolence of the community, or so I thought. Now I was seeing the whole picture.
I turned to my dad still amid his lecture talk and asked: `` Well, dad, what's the point of the System?''
`` To make people nicer and kinder to each other,'' my father answered, without a moment's delay. Then he went on rambling about the political impact of the System. He did n't catch onto the point of my question. Where's the real kindness in this world? What can be said to be good in this world?
|
[ WP ] Dragons exist on Earth , but humans are still the dominant species . Write realistic stories about how life would be different .
|
I approached the creatures with my palms held open.
It snorted at me, a thick stream of smoke emanating from its nostrils. The strange twisting light of fire escaping from between it's maw.
`` Easy boy.'' I approached it slowly, knowing full well that at a split moment this creature might turn and snap on me. `` I'm just a pal. Just a buddy. You want some meat?'' Cooing as I held the large steak aloft in front of me.
The dragon eyed me warily, it's eyes constantly moving to the piece of meat. As if gauging the possibilities. These creatures were smart, too smart for anyone to truly be comfortable around, still, everyone had to be good at something and this just seemed to be my niche.
Flinging the steak across the air towards the creature caused the presumed reflective action. It snapped its jaw into the air and snatched it mid flight. I continued. Feeding it more and more until it started to look at me as the source instead of the food. It watched me as I magically produced the meat, unbeknownst to the creature the sheer amount of downers that had been laced in the thing.
`` Good girl.'' I cooed, taking a step closer only to be met with a hiss of hot air that blew my hat right off my head.'' Easy girl. Nothing to worry about.''
I took another step as it watched me warily.
`` Right. Easy girl'' I said producing another piece of steak and flinging it at the thing. Reinforcing the positive behavior of not eating me.
Reaching out like I had so many times before, I touched the bridge between its eyes. It shuddered and moved back but I moved with it. Showing that I meant it no harm as I begun to see the effects of the toxins take place until finally it fell into a deep trance.
`` job well done chap.'' my supervisor said, appearing almost magically at my side. `` Here. `` He smiled as he handed me my phone. `` It's them.'' adding almost as a subtext, `` they're desperate for it too.''
Smiling a predatory smile I answered the phone. `` Yeah? you got the enclosure set up? Good.''
Looking at the majestic beast I returned my attention to the call. `` Alright then man, yeah. see you in a few.''
`` And?'' My supervisor asked. His eagerness bubbling to the surface.
`` They want it.''
`` They want it?''
`` Yeah. Starting tomorrow its no more killer whales. Dragons, that's what's in, it's DragonWorld now.''
________________________________________________________________
if you liked this, check out my other stuff at /r/abdantaswrites
|
[ RF ] We Do n't Go There Anymore
|
`` You wanted to see me.'' It was a statement, not a question.
The figure seated on the other side of the desk nodded, his carefully groomed appearance and fine features at odds with the Man standing before him. The tailored robes and leather half-jacket over them hid a tall, powerful build, the elegant embroidery tracing endless patterns of soft, curving script. Narrow rings graced his hands, most prominently the signet ring bearing the arms of the Royal House of Alathir.
`` I did,'' the seated Fae said, templing his hands. `` So... You're our *'Green Ghost.'* ``
Hilary Flint's tired smirk did not reach his eyes. `` You seem disappointed.''
The Elf shook his head once, his auburn hair swaying. `` Merely surprised. If you were to hear the barrack-room chatter, the Green Ghost is a revenant among Men, a judgment upon Fae-kind for their transgressions. Unable to die, tireless in his hunt, and without mercy. They say that you vanished right before the very eyes of a score of my grandfather's finest soldiers. At the Battle of Saginaw four separate soldiers in different regiments swore that they had killed you, only for you to appear elsewhere on the battlefield. Among the peasants you're little better. Mothers tell their babes to behave lest the Green Ghost snatches them away and sacrifice them on the altar of your God. I do not see an ogre standing before but a Man, and a most forgettable looking one at that.''
Hilary Flint shrugged, the gesture somewhat unsettling to the guards in the room. Perhaps it was how it revealed the brace of daggers and pistol sheathed on Flint's person.
`` Maybe that's my secret, eh? Just hide in plain sight. It's not like most of your tin soldiers could n't tell the difference between one human and another. One of your foot soldiers kills a militiaman or ranger wearing green, figures it must be that *'deadly and terrible Green Ghost'* he heard stories of, and crows up and down about it like a fighting cock.''
The Elf's smiled was thin and brief as he shuffled papers on his desk.
`` Tell me, *Captain* Flint. Have you been to the ruins of Lansing recently?''
Hilary answered with a grim smile of his own, and moved towards a tall countertop with a silver tray of crystal glasses and a decanter of something the color of honey. He pulled free the glass plug and swirled the decanter under his nose, making an approving noise at the smell. Flint poured himself two fingerfuls of the dark liquid and took a long sip at it, a tiny bead of the stuff trickling down the corner of his mouth.
`` That's fine scotch. Glenfiddich?'' Flint asked. The Elf nodded, his smile genuine.
`` It is. But you did n't answer my question.'' His smile vanished quick as smoke.
`` No, as a matter of fact. I've been out East; where I met your cousin.''
`` And what about before the Arrival,'' the Fae pressed. `` Did you go there, studied there perhaps?''
`` Why do you want to know?'' Flint asked icily, his hands reaching towards his belt. The Fae leaned over his desk, his smile returned, and ten times more feral.
`` Because, Captain. I believe you and I have already met.''
|
[ TT ] All your friends and family are slowly changing . They do n't notice the difference , but you certainly do ...
|
These past few months have been... different for some unseemingly reason. At first I thought it was just me but I've come to find out that everyone around me has been changing and it's become more and more noticeable. Everyone's personalities seem to have changed. My parents who were known to be early sleepers now stay up at ungodly hours and are somehow always awake before I am. Even my friends have taken up some out of character hobbies. Hell even my neighbors seem to have changed. As I roll out of my bed I ca n't help by wonder why it's become so more noticeable now than before.
Today was yet another boring monday school day. I was in my senior year of high school. I was at best a C average type of student. I did n't find school all that challenging, just boring and repetitive. I had a few friends, not to many but we were a pretty close klick. The school itself was pretty old and was located on the outskirts of the town. I did n't know how to drive and I despised taking the bus so I often just car pooled with my friend David and his brother Tim.
I walk down the stairs and see my parents sitting together on the couch watching the TV. It appears they pulled another all nighter again, their clothes and hair are a mess.
`` Ah good morning son! Off to school?'' asks my Dad
`` Yeah, David is picking me up like usual... Hey I got ta ask, why do guys stay up so late all the time now?''
My mom and dad look at each other before turning to me to answer
`` Well as you know I've lost a lot of weight lately and I've been having some hunger issues. Your father found this all you can eat 24/7 place down the road and we have been hitting it up late at night.'' answers my mother.
My mother did look a bit thin and it would explain all the leftovers in the fridge lately.
`` Yeah its real great! All the food is nice and fresh. Maybe you can come with us sometime, I'm sure you would enjoy it!'' says my father.
`` Eh I'll think about it, well I got ta get going. See ya!''
I walk out the door and head down to the corner of street where David picks me up. Along the way I notice my neighbors walking around once again. Whats strange is not only the usual number of them doing so its that they all seemed to start at the same time.
`` Geeze, when did everyone become so health conscious?'' I just shrug it off.
I look down the street and spot Davids car. It was an old beat up piece of junk and looked like it been through hell and back but at least it got us to point a to point b. David pulls up beside the curb and I hop in and we drive off.
`` What's up dude? Sleep well?'' asks David
`` Yeah kinda, parents been acting strange lately. I found out they been doing midnight chow runs at some place down the road.''
`` Oh I know just the place I've been there a few times myself'' says a voice sitting behind us.
I turn my head and see Tim, David's younger brother.
`` Well is it any good?'' I ask.
`` Eh pretty good, kinda have to work to get it but its worth the effort. The crowds there can be a bit crazy at times. It's kinda become the new hotness lately.'' Tim replies.
I sudden smell an awful smell. It assaulted my senses like a bolt of lightning setting my nose on fire.
`` Ack, when was the last time you bathed Tim? You smell awful..''
Tim stares back in embarrassment
`` Just the other day! Get off my case!'' Tim retorts.
David lets out a good laugh
`` Our parents say its puberty but we all know the real reason. Tim has n't bathed in days. He is afraid of water.'' jokes David
`` I AM NOT! `` shouts Tim in protest.
`` It's just.. It's just that I do n't like the soap! It tears up my skin all the time!''
`` Well maybe you should n't scrub so hard then, you will end up peeling all of it off'' I answer.
`` Anyhow, David have you been noticing anything weird lately?'' I ask
`` Other than my stinkface brothers smell lately, no I have n't. Why you ask?'' David replies.
`` I dunno it's stupid, but people seem to have changed suddenly.''
`` Its probably just because of all this fog we have been having lately. It has n't been giving up since the last few days. Maybe its just affecting everyone's mood?'' Tim says boastingly.
`` Yeah... maybe..Its just all in my mind maybe..''
`` In that brainless skull of yours? I did n't think you had that much of an imagination.'' David jokes again
`` Yeah sure, whatever rot brain. Let just see how well you do on your test today before you pass judgement on me'' I retort.
`` Shit, I totally forgot. God damn Mr.Lander's giving us stupid history tests on crap that's always constantly changing. I wish that old bag of bones would just get a life!''
Me and Tim laugh at David's crappy situation. As we travel down the road the fog starts to roll in pretty heavy and our vision starts to go down. The road is flanked by the creepy silhouettes of the old barren oak trees.
`` Shit I can barely see now with all this freaking fog'' David says as he stares hard at the dark road before us.
`` Just drive slow, there is no rush. Its not like I'm in hurry to get to class. Besides there is hardly any traffic on the road anyhow'' I say.
`` True that, fuck that test man. I do n't even wan --'' David is suddenly cut off.
A large tree branch drops in front of us and David slams on the brakes hard nearly avoiding hitting it.
`` JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!'' Shouts David
`` Is everyone ok?'' I ask
`` Yeah... I'm fine.. though it feels I almost got my head ripped off.'' Replies Tim.
The tree branch is pretty huge and blocks the entire road.
`` Well this is the only way to the school, guess we have to move it''
`` Great, just my luck. A study test and I nearly get killed by a stupid tree..ALL IN THE SAME DAY'' David shouts.
We all get out of the car and walk towards the branch. The fog surrounds us and is thick and heavy. Barely any light can get through. David bends down and starts to try to lift the branch out of the way.
`` Are you sure you can lift it? It looks rather heavy'' says a considered Tim.
`` Yeah I'm sure! I'm not some kind of weakling Tim..Now stand back. I do n't want you to get hurt'' David responds.
David bends down to lift the heavy log, grasping it with a tight grip with his lanky long arms. At first he seems to lift the log with ease but is only getting it a few inches off the ground. He begins to groan as he struggles to lift the log.
`` Are you sure you do n't want some help? It's no troub-'' Tim is cut off by David
`` OF COURSE I'M SURE! NOW SHUT UP!'' Shouts David.
He gives one final tug and suddenly something snaps.
David's left arm plops to the floor with a loud thud as we both just stare at him in dead silence.
`` Dangit! Now i got ta get a new one!'' says David now staring at the socket where his arm was once connected to.
I let out a sigh of disappointment.
`` Come on ya rotting old fool, lets go get ya a new one at the graveyard..''
`` Great just freaking great! Now I lose an arm, have a test, nearly die to tree branch and I'm going to be late.'' David says angrily.
`` There are some shovels back at my house lets head on back.''
`` Hey since we are going to be late can we get something to eat? I'm starving'' asks Tim.
`` I'm sure my mom and dad have some leftover brains in the fridge. I'm sure they wo n't mind'' I say.
As we head back to my house I realize nothing has really changed. It's still the same boring rotting life.
|
[ WP ] You 've managed to create a `` what-if '' machine . This allows users to analyze past decisions and receive a read out of alternative events .
|
I had created infinity in a box. An endless ocean of endless outcomes moving inside gears and cogs waiting for me to decide which ending I could have had. Every meaningless detail would have shifted the future, every little thing I had never noticed before. And now I can see what they all would have been.
Simply put I had created a `` What If'' machine. See, it came to me in a day dream one day. When I was 22, I was spending time with a few friends of mine down by a river in New South Wales. A dear friend of mine Jimmy said to me that he and his current partner had separated. He kept repeating the sentence `` What if man?'' as if that was going to help him cope with the situation around him and that's when the genius struck me! It was as if Lady Luck herself had slapped me right across the face. Create a machine to ask the questions and it will give you the answers. No more wondering and pondering, just simply ask away!
Now what do I even do with this. I ca n't change the past with it just merely learn what I could have had. I've created a burden, a turmoil. A god damn tumor of the soul. But christ, I have so many questions. So many thoughts flooding my brain. What If I had n't left that girl when I was 18 after all the months of fighting. What If I stayed in New York with my friends instead of returning home. What If I was around when my mother passed? Well, I suppose its best to try.
`` *What I had continued to date Samantha when I was 18*''
`` **Question**: What if you ( Rhys ) had continued to date Samantha at 18
**Amount of possible outcomes to this future**: 3
**Outcome 1**: You continue to date for 8 years until your study and endless hours to create The What If machine cause her to leave you.
**Outcome 2**: You propose 6 years into the relationship and you remain engaged for 2 years. Your study and endless hours to create The What if machine cause her to leave you.
**Outcome 3**: She leaves you 4 years later, when she learns you intend to create the What If machine.''
Heh, Samantha always wanted to be priority number one I suppose. She would have hated seeing me not let her be the center of my universe. Let's see what else.
`` *What If I stayed in New York with my friends instead of returning home*?''
`` **Question**: What If I ( Rhys ) stayed in New York with my friends instead of returning home?
**Amount of possible outcomes to this future**: 4
**Outcome 1**: You steal and rob from your friends to create funds to make The What If Machine and they all resent and hate you by the end.
**Outcome 2**: You loan money off them all promising them a share of the profit from the What If Machine.
**Outcome 3**: You get evicted after they can no longer handle your ramblings about The What If Machine.
**Outcome 4**: They all leave you.''
Well, how terribly morbid. What a wonderful thing I had left to create you without them. Now, one last question
`` *What If I was around when my mother passed*?''
`` **Question**: What If I ( Rhys ) was around when my mother passed?
**Amount of possible outcomes to this future** - 2
**Outcome 1**: You spend all the time you could have spent helping her on her death bed creating the `` What If
Machine''
**Outcome 2**: You resent her after spending weeks by her side and not creating the What If Machine''
Oh. All of these outcomes. All of these futures. They're all leading back to you. They were always going to lead back to you. Just one more question, just one more.
`` *What If I never made you*?''
The machine starts to churn rapidly and steam emits from the vents. After a few seconds of rumbling, the paper begins to filter through. Scratching itches at the paper, words blur out all over and I can see my answer push itself out the bottom of the machine. I pick up the parchment and read out
`` **Question**: What If you ( Rhys ) had never made myself? ( What If Machine )
**Amount of potential outcomes for your question**: 0
**Answer**: It was n't luck. It was destiny.''
|
[ IP ] Sanctuary
|
`` My dearest Cornelia, where has your light gone? Not so long ago, you were the brightest presence here. Our collective has grown concerned.''
Cornelia hid her face beneath her hair, a feature which was treasured by all who laid eyes upon it. Taking a deep breath, she parted her hair with her thumbs and tilted her head back. Her beauty perfectly displayed, but her eyes held a sadness.
`` Exemplar, I have seen the end of our ways. A life of stray is ahead of me, yet I know not where to go.''
The Exemplar was taken aback, `` Dear child, what ever do you speak of? Have you been given a vision?''
Her eyes lost their sadness and traded themselves with a look of accusation, `` I have, though not from above. With the eyes given to me at birth I have witnessed a lie.''
`` Our people can not be held to a standard beyond their earthy bodies. Do not let their wandering ethics deter you from following the grace with which you have been blessed,'' The Exemplar met Cornelia at her level and placed his hands upon her shoulders. His thumbs caressed the skin of her bare arms.
She rose to look down upon him, `` Does my grace surpass your own, the grace of our Exemplar?''
Though holding his age poorly in his back, he stood again to rise above her.
`` Lady Cornelia, you speak beyond your manner. Your time here has not yet begun to match the devotion of mine own. I beg, no, insist you keep your words simple, and more importantly, kind.''
She felt the cold stone floor beneath her feet. The setting sun could no longer reach the floor upon which she stood. Cornelia turned away from the Exemplar, her dress momentarily grazing against him. She approached the columns overlooking the water's edge.
`` Tell me of this lie, Cornelia,'' the Exemplar's voice was stern.
Cornelia wrapped her arms around a column and pressed her cheek against it. Her face towards the outstretching ocean.
`` You've taken a liking to the maiden prior to myself. Have you not?''
The Exemplar placed himself behind her, `` You speak of Lady Sarene? My impression of her is one of adoration in her purity.''
`` Purity...'' Cornelia spoke softly.
She felt his hand place itself in the middle of her back.
`` Do you wish to ask something of me, Cornelia?''
Still embracing the column, Cornelia smiled, `` Your whole life; devoted to grace.''
Waves crash upon and pull away from the sands. The majesty of the sanctuary instills wonder in those who want to believe in something greater than themselves. Was that also a lie, Cornelia thought.
`` How can you lead us to grace, if you have none?'' she let go of the column and faced the Exemplar.
His face trembled with insult but he remained where he stood; with her between himself and the sea. His hand slowly found its way to her face. Cornelia remained still, subdued. Her steadfast burned within him. His hand slid from her face and around her throat. What strength he had was enough to bring her to her knees. She did not fight him. Cornelia let him feel powerful, as he always had felt.
A knife plunged into the Exemplar from behind. Lady Sarene wielding the blade and a gasp.
The Exemplar collapsed on to Cornelia. She let his body fall into the sand below, where the water was to rise before night. She turned to face Sarene. Cornelia's face was regal.
`` My lady Sarene, you've saved not just my life but this sanctuary.''
Sarene clasped Cornelia's hands, `` Yet I have still failed you.''
Cornelia stood and laughed a single laugh. Her smile comforted Sarene.
`` That man was the evil within our home. You had no part in his lie, except as a victim to his torment.''
Sarene looked around them, suggesting the uncertainty of the future.
`` Do not worry, dear Sarene. Now we can bring truth back into the wonder that is our home.''
|
[ WP ] You have a secret that you can not reveal . You have been captured with the intent of torturing you for the secret . You bite of your own tongue , but they save your life , and leave you with a pad of paper and a pencil every night .
|
I've got a secret. It's too important to tell anyone. They want to know, though. They keep asking me. Shouting at me. When I wo n't tell them the secret they hurt me. At first they would only hit me but I still would n't talk. Then they drowned me.
Over and over.
I found a trick though. If I break myself they ca n't make me speak. So I bit my tongue off. It hurt, but I won. As the blood joined the water burning in my lungs I died again. And they woke me up again. They were upset at the blood. They beat me until I nearly drowned again on the blood in my mouth.
Now every time I wake there is a lump of charcoal on the rough stone floor of my chamber. I did n't win. I could still tell them if I wrote with the charcoal. I'm not free. I can only be free if I ca n't tell them. They wo n't let me die if I can still tell them.
They do n't drown me now. They have a file, a rasp. They drag it across my shins. There is no pain that compares. I can not sleep, so I find myself staring at the charcoal. But I ca n't tell them. I can only be free if I ca n't tell them.
I found a trick though. Their file made me think of it. If I can not be free until I ca n't tell them, then I must do whatever it takes to break myself. And if breaking myself hurts, it ca n't hurt as much as that file. Or at least not for much longer.
I'm on my last finger now. They expected me to write with charcoal. But I'm using my fingers.
All done now.
Now I am free.
|
[ WP ] Captain Obvious , Sargent Sarcasm , and Admiral Asshole are in a room together
|
`` The Commander is fifty-five minutes late,'' Captain Obvious said with practiced ease as he looked at his watch.
Sergeant Sarcasm crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat. `` Do n't sweat it,'' she said. `` He would n't let us down, would he? His loyalty is the stuff of legend!''
`` I do n't care if he's throwing orphans out of a burning building,'' the Admiral shouted as she walked out of the private room, `` I'm not paying his share! Does n't he know how expensive this fucking place is?!'' The patrons in the main room of the restaurant stared, their eyes wide. The Admiral raised her tone even higher and stared right back. `` Go back to your overpriced mush, you cowards!'' She walked back in, slamming the door.
By the time Admiral Asshole had taken her seat again, there came a knocking. `` WHAT?!'' she bellowed.
A timid waiter opened the door. `` I'm terribly sorry, sir, ma'am,'' he said, his voice trembling, `` but the Commander just called to let you know that he'll soon be on his way.'' He did n't even wait for a reply before closing the door and scurrying back to the kitchen.
The Sergeant smirked. `` I'm sure he's not doing it on purpose,'' she said.
The Admiral seethed as she chewed on an ice cube. `` Fuck him,'' she said. `` He knows how much I hate wasting my time.''
Across town, Commander Contrarian leaned back and fiddled with the TV remote. `` One more episode,'' he announced to no one in particular.
|
[ WP ] Science has advanced far beyond human understanding , discoveries are made using supercomputers running vast neural networks . In the darkness , God watches a lonely machine printing output , a new law of nature ! Something troubles him , this law is undeniably valid but it 's not one that he created .
|
The General Operational Director sat at his desk at looked at the monitor. It has been a millennium or so since he last looked at the stardust clock hanging on the wall in front of him.
He was anxious to know what time it is for about 200 years or so, but did n't bother looking mainly because looking at the clock would have him stretching his neck to raise his eye level above the flickering computer screen. Also, stardust or not, that clock looked just like plastic. It was also slightly tilted to the left, which drove the Director crazy.
He finally took initiative and stretched his neck until he saw enough pale-purple numbers, made either of fusing hydrogen or tinted glass, to know what time it is. There was nothing special about that moment. Nowhere in the known universe was there even anything slightly irregular worth mentioning occurring, let alone any extraordinary phenomena. And yet, when the Director gave up on looking at the painfully slow hands, and set his gaze back unto the monitor, he saw something so magnificently unexpected it could only be described by resembling it to continuously shouting into a deaf man's ear until he asked you to be quiet because he's trying to listen to the news. The Director wanted to do just that, but since the only deaf ears within his reach were his management's, and those too were only deaf metaphorically, he decided to use his friend's instead.
He ran to the door and shouted, `` MICHAEL!''
Michael, who was busy talking to the cute girl from accounting, did n't feel the same rush the Director did.
`` Michael, I really need you here!'' he repeated, this time with more confidence and implied impending smiting.
Michael rolled his eyes and dragged himself towards the Director's office. He did n't even take that much time, no more than a decade.
`` What's up, Mr. D?'' he said, as slick and yet inelegant as a face recently lubricated with pepper spray.
`` Do n't call me that!'''Mr. D' was his third most hated nickname, only surpassed by'Gob The Almighty' and'He Who Must Not Be Named', Although he's not sure if the latter was even for him.
`` Fine, Barney. I'll call you Barney. Did n't you need me for something?''
`` Oh, yea. I need you to see something,'' The Director said, pointing at the computer at his desk.
`` Did it break again? You know I just call the guys from IT every time rebooting does n't work, right? I do n't really understand those things.''
`` No, the computer is fine. I just got a system message.''
`` What do you mean?'' Michael said and walked into the office. The Director followed.
The both reached the desk and leaned over the monitor in five years or so.
`` See? It just switched to this screen all of the sudden!'' said The Director.
`` What do you mean,'all of the sudden'?'' Michael waved his hands more then he should have. He also pressed a few buttons on the keyboard. You know, in case it helps or something.
`` I looked away and looked back at it, and it switched. What do we do now?''
`` WE? There is no WE! You did this, not me. I'm not going to take responsibility for every time you destroy accidentally delete a part of the universe or lean your elbow on the'restore to an earlier version' button!''
`` What are you talking about? We don ’ t know if that's what it means yet! Maybe it's just a routine error of something, a debug thingy that no one deleted. `` -Even more hand, and sometimes arm, waving-'' Maybe it's even an alarm clock someone put up and forgot to turn off, someone's niece is having a birthday party and the poor guy used the wrong computer and now she'll get no pony! ``
`` Yea, of course, it must be the pony thing.'' Michael said, `` Anyway, I'll pass it to the IT department. They'll find out what poor galaxy you demolished while spilling coffee on your pants.''
-- -
`` Well, we have a problem, sir.'' Said the IT guy with the duct taped glasses and the overall'I-Don't-Like-Showers' look. The Director was pretty sure he knew that guy's name at some time in the past, but that time was brief and now he only remembers him as'IT Guy # 4' and is too afraid to ask for his name again.
`` Was there… Damage?'' He asked, hoping he destroyed Andromeda. He always hated Andromeda.
`` Depends on your definition of damage, sir, the PR department will probably have some repair work to do. We have entered uncharted territory.''
`` What?'' Past directors were afraid to ask that question, this one often had no choice.
`` If I may put this in layman's terms, we ca n't produce laws of nature as fast as the humans. We had quite a head start, but we spent too much time on making it simple and nice to digest. `` IT guy # 4 pushed his glasses proudly, as if he did something more than explaining a simple problem to an even simpler mind.
`` I do n't know about you, but for me the new stuff was n't that user friendly.''
`` Oh yea, sorry about that. We figured we'd run into this problem a while ago and tried to pick up some more speed, you know. Less work for us, more work for them – two birds with one stone. Did n't help in the long run, those sons of bitches gulp equations like lemonade. So here we are, they caught up and soon enough we'll be eating dust.''
`` Caught up? Can that be? I mean, can they just figure stuff out before we do? What sort of universe is that?'' The Director said, his arms quite literally flailing.
`` Well, they did, so that pretty much answers your question. That message you got was a new law of nature they generated without us. The system is n't used to that sort of queries yet, but we're working on a fix for you. No more popups for you, guaranteed.''
`` And the humans will stop getting things before we do?'' said The Director, at this point he was just confused.
`` Oh, no, they'll keep doing whatever they're doing. I do n't know if you saw the entire error or not, you have to press F 11-3i for that, but you can see the law they pulled straight out of the Creation Core. A bit raw if you ask me, but pretty good for the first try. Something about membrane hypertension, not sure what exactly. It's new after all, is n't it?'' He finished with the satisfied grin you have after you tell a joke fully expected other to laugh. No one ever does.
`` Do n't you see the problem? Them figuring out the universe before we do? Sure there's nothing we can do?'' The Director said with a sincere hope to fix the situation, `` Make them slower? Make us faster?''
`` We can always increase the manpower here, but I hear they're working on a new version altogether. No way will you get a budget increase now, especially not for something like that. Besides, maybe it's a good thing, a fresh look at things.''
The Director looked at him with a dumbfounded look, sighed and got started walking back to his office, `` Thanks, buddy,'' he said with another sigh.
Maybe it's just not his millennium.
|
[ WP ] In a world where everybody is perfect , everybody is chasing imperfection .
|
“ I just want to be different. Special, you know? I want to be imperfect. I want meaning in my life. It almost makes me want to act out ”
Sam sighed as he looked out from the table past John, staring at the beautiful, healthy people all around him. Toned bodies, dimpled smiles, and warm voices dominated the scene. Rays of sun shone into the coffee shop from its large windows, casting everyone into even more picturesque versions of themselves.
The truth of his statement washed over John as he sat staring at his friend.
It was the year 2250, and everyone was chasing the “ flawed dream ” as it was called. Physical deformities, mental instabilities, tragical personal narratives - you name it, and people were trying to experience it. People lacked adversity and tragedy in their lives - no reasons to feel sorry for themselves - and were thus finding their experience of life to be unfulfilling. This existential dilemma was such a ubiquitous experience in modern life that everyone was familiar with it. So no one could even claim *that* as the imperfection in their life.
Bars were full of healthy people drinking themselves crazy, trying in vain to become ( tragically flawed! ) alcoholics; hospitals were overflowing with patients trying to convince doctors ( though mostly their acquaintances ) that they suffered from debilitating mental health issues that made their lives difficult and generally horribly sad and dramatic. Just the other day he had heard of another car crash where a man had slammed his car into the median, and emerged horribly crippled and deformed. His goal was to live the rest of his life sad and disabled, for which he ( in addition to being able to endlessly ruminate upon his physical injuries ) could then form a personal narrative of drama and adversity, in which he overcame his terrible accident and lived a wonderfully imperfect life.
But alas, it could not be so. Alcohol was now non-habit forming, and contemporary medical care ensured that save being torn to bits ( an incredibly difficult feat nowadays in the absence of war and violence ), your body and mind would be completely healed regardless of what you tried to do to it. People couldn ’ t even sap some self pity out of the premature loss of a parent or loved one because early deaths and accidents simply never happened anymore. All genetic imperfections that made one susceptible to mental and physical deformities had been wiped from the gene pool long ago via genetic engineering in the womb. Everyone was intelligent, tall and beautiful. The guy who crashed his car didn ’ t even have to pay for anything afterwards; the car and the median was repaired by the state at no cost to him. At the end of the day, there was simply nothing to do.
John sat dejectedly in silence as he thought about this. He looked up at the television screen above them. Humanity had recently made contact with a alien race, the cause of much fanfare. They were a relatively benign race at the same level of technology as Earth.
“ We should go to war with them ” John said suddenly. “ That will make people feel better ”.
And so they did.
|
[ FF ] Staircase Wit ( 250 words )
|
`` Maybe if you just did what you were supposed to, you would n't be so disappointed with your life!'' she practically shouted. The argument had thus far been in a hushed whisper, but she'd suddenly lost it. Her face flushed in embarrassment. Everybody in the party was glancing our way. Mine, however, was a mask of glory. The words streamed from my mouth like poetry, the perfect sentence to win this and any argument in the future.
`` That's not what your mom said!'' I yelled in victory. The entire room erupted into applause, all men and women giving me a standing ovation. Children seemed confused, unable to comprehend the perfection of the words I proclaimed. Many people were crying, the beauty of my flawless finish overpowering their emotions. A few men were passed out, their pants soiled in all the excitement. My girlfriend's face became so crimson that the light fixture on the ceiling shone on it, casting a light red glow on the walls of the room. I smirk and mutter to myself, `` That's not what your mother said.'' I guffaw and swagger out the door, girlfriend in tow with her head down in defeat.
|
[ WP ] How a random fistfight led to the end of the world .
|
`` Man, you're and ashole'' Jhon had been an idiot all night, we were in a bar in russia for our vacations but since the start of the night i had started dubting if it had been a good idea to bring him with me.
`` John, let's go back to the hotel. You ca n't keep drinking, you'll have a black out and a horrible hangover.'' He was n't listening I was right it was stupid to even try.
`` I said i was going to drink russian vodka, and im going to drink russian vodka'' He took the whole bottle and started drinking.
`` питьевая!, питьевая!'' The people around were cheerin him up, i had to take the bottle away from him so we could go back to the hotel.
`` Give me that'' I said as I took the handle of the bottle. He hit me in the face dropping the bottle to the floor making it splash the vodka all around us.
`` Hey, John, you're way to drunk. I do n't care if the russian maffia captures you i'm going, you find your own way back.'' I was angry at him tough i tried to keep calmed.
`` Yeah, thats right. I do n't need you nor the maffia. It's drink for me all night'' He shouted at me but I was n't paying atention anymore.
_______________________________________________________________
I'm so tired, I ca n't belive all that happened in just one day. The realtionship with the US, has been harder to keep stable after all this years, but anyway, I can finally be away from my job at the council to relax a little bit on this bar.
`` What will it be sir'' The bartender said to me in russian.
`` Whisky please'' He gave me the small glass with ice soon after. there was a fight in the bar, usual stuff i tought. However there was something different this time, the ones fighting were americans.
I ignored it for a while and kept drinking however something cought my attention, i could't undertand the hole phrase but the part that I did seemed like something big.
`` I do n't care if the russian maffia…'' I prayed that they were Joking, if this americans were involved with national criminals there could be somethin worse beneath the surface, but i was n't wrong, they after explicitly talked about their partnership.
`` …I do n't need you nor the maffia…'' I had to inform the rest of the goverment, if someone finds this and latter reveals i knew it and said nothing they would kill me!
I paid the drink and got out of there as fast as i could.
________________________________________________________________
`` Americans?'' I said with total doubt. `` Are you sure they were n't from ukraine Ivan?''
`` Im 100 % sure, Mr. president. After all they were speaking English and they did n't look brittish.''
`` How do you know they are part of the country's maffia?''
`` They admitted it Mr. President'' Ivan was shaking, he culd barely say a word without hessitation. `` They explicitly called their asociation.''
`` Well, thats some news I was n't expecting.'' I kept silence for a couple seconds and continued soon after. `` We need to get a conference with The US president.''
`` Of course Mr. President, I supossed you'd say that so I already planned it. You will talk to him in One hour''
`` Let's hope we're wrong, Ivan. Let's hope we're wrong''
________________________________________________________________
`` Mr. President'' The secretary of defense said to me from behind my back. `` It's time.''
`` Thank you, Mr. secretary.''
What could the russians want, i tought to myself, i belived all thing had been settled in the last reunion, what could it be that they forgot to tell us. I walked into the conference room where a big screen showed the nation seal over a deep blue background.
`` If anyone has something to do, say it now so we can postpone the conference'' After no one objected I continued. `` Then, please, stablish conection.''
The nation's seal was replaced in the screen with a loading sign and after that the russian gabinet appeared on the screen.
`` Good day Mr. President'' The russian president said through the screen.
`` Same to you. Now, let's cut down to the chase. What's the reason of this second conference, after all, we just had one around two hours ago'' The russian president smiled, probably containing laughter after I stopped speaking.
`` I think thats a good idea, lets not waste anytime. We know about you secret goverment program.''
My hearth skip a beat after he said that, what could he be talking about? Maybe the military planes or if we were unlucky, the recolection of uranium that had been going on for about two years now.
`` What do you mean?''
The President laughed. `` You know what i mean, your back up to the russian maffia against the goverment'' Oh, *that* secret proyect. `` So tell me Mr. president am i right?''
He probably had evidence, if i lied it could only get worse.
`` Yes, you're right Mr. President. that program is still in use. However, whaterver your intentions we warn you, any action wo n't pass unoticed''
`` I see'' he looked abisiously back to me. `` You'll hear from us soon Mr. President.''
The russian pressident cut the comunication and silence filled the room.
___________________________________________________________
`` Mr. President, are you sure?'' I could n't belive what i was hearing, maybe in the cold war it could have been possible but now, just after a diplomatic meeting.
*'' I'm sure'' * the president said through the speakers. *'' The integrity of the russian nation has been attacked and insulted, we wont stand back and watch'' *
`` Understood, we'll fire up the warheads inmediatly.'' Even as I sounded confident on the phone, i knew this was a bad idea. The president hanged up leaving me and my partner staring at each other.
We both registered the time and reason of the confirmation code, and each of us went to our stations. We pressed the right convination and then turned our keys as the final preparation. we loocked at each other before finally giving the order.
`` Ready?''
`` Ready''
We pressed the launch buttons, heard the loud rocket noice coming from the outside and saw the rocket going up into the sky looking as harmless as a flare but we both knew we just caused the end of the world.
______________________________________________________________
I hope you liked it. If so, be sure to check out r/Jack_Harmony for more.
If you wish, please send feedback on what things you think i should improve.
|
[ WP ] Your guardian angel hates you . But they still have to do their job ... technically ...
|
Another rainy Monday. I hate rain. I hate Mondays. And I really hate --
HANG ON, I'LL BE RIGHT BACK!
Whoo, sorry. It's just that goddarn idiot Kevin I've been forced to protect. What is he, blind? Just walked *right* in front of a truck, like he's Mister Friggin' Magoo. Had to push the wretch into a puddle just to save his stupid, stupid, stupid life.
It was a big puddle. Really big.
Anyway, where was I? Mondays. Right. I hate'em. Kevin was born on a Monday. Cutest little kid you ever saw, for all of about three minutes. Then the little cretin tried to: fall out of his mother's arms onto the floor, fall out of his father's arms onto the floor, fall out of his nurse's --
OH LORD, HOLD THAT THOUGHT!
Congratulations, Kevin, you *just missed* walking directly into a drug deal. You walked into a telephone pole instead. You're welcome.
So back to Kevin. Oh wait, we never left Kevin this whole time, because if you leave Kevin for more than ten seconds HE'LL KILL HIMSELF! I do not know who I upset in the celestial hierarchy, but boy oh boy am I ever sorry. I bet it was that one time I spilled that wine on Jesus. What's the big deal with that anyway? He just turned it back into water; it was like nothing ever happened! So maybe I had a little too much to drink, but who --
OH NO YOU DO N'T YOU LITTLE --
Back. I do n't know when that guy's gon na learn to look both ways. YOU'VE LIVED IN MIAMI YOUR WHOLE LIFE, YA BUM! FIGURE IT OUT!
Sorry. I guess he's getting to me a little. Because he sucks. He sucks so, so much. Like a giant, steaming pile of... oh, great. He made it to work. Hang on a second, I got ta break all the staplers. Preventive medicine, you know.
Okay, staplers broken. We should be okay, as long as he does n't just plunge a staple into his eyeball like the brain-dead turkey he is. We should at least have a couple minutes to talk while he opens and shuts the broken staplers on his hand in dead-eyed, slack-jawed, knuckle-dragging --
YOUR HEAD DOES NOT GO IN THE PHOTOCOPIER! WHY WOULD YOU THINK YOUR HEAD GOES IN THE PHOTOCOPIER?
Okay, he's out. Slammed the top of the photocopier on his big, stupid head. I know, I know, I'm too kind. Everyone says so.
I'm just way too good at this job. First couple years, I thought no way this clown makes it into adulthood. I mean, this kid swallowed six separate frogs. In one week. You know his diet was like 80 % dirt until he was ten? Then he hit 18, and I thought, good job Zephon. He's made it way farther than anyone coulda expected, nobody's gon na blame you when he gets unavoidably shot for being the physical incarnation of Jar Jar Binks. But lo and behold --
HOW ARE YOU UP ALREADY? HOW THICK IS YOUR SKULL? IT'S ONE SOLID PIECE, IS N'T IT? JUST BONE ALL THE WAY THROUGH!
Hey, I'm real sorry but I got ta run. Kevin's headed to the boss's office, and if I'm not on my A-game he's gon na get fired. Holy mother of pearl, I do n't even want to think about what it'll be like if he's *homeless*.
NO NO NO! DO NOT STOP BY THE COFFEE MACHINE! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH ANYTHING ABOVE ROOM TEMPERATURE, REMEMBER?
|
[ WP ] You are legally allowed to commit murder once , but you must fill out the proper paperwork and your proposed victim will be notified of your intentions
|
Paranoia swarmed my side of the neighborhood.
Ever since the new ‘ legal homicide act ’ became a law, I hadn ’ t seen hide nor hair of any of the local sleeze balls. The government decided it would make for a safer city, at least in the long run. The idea behind Mayor Kane ’ s act was that if a person was sentenced to death by the government, there would be riots in the streets, but if a person was to be put to death by a simple citizen, then there would be no reason to argue. All of the wealthy, upper class, citizens of the city voted yes on the matter, of course. Why wouldn ’ t they? They could, for once, use their power and social statuses to do something that made them feel even holier than ever before.
It seemed like an easy enough choice, or at least it did to those who would be signing the final paperwork. Where I come from, however, social status and wealth weren ’ t exactly two things that went hand in hand. Most of the people in my apartment complex were your every day, common, run of the mill petty criminals. Most of us in the lower side of Starlight were struggling every day just to make ends meet, so that usually meant stealing a loaf of bread here or there. Of course, there were the more hardened criminals around as well, and in the back of my mind, I knew they ’ d be the ones to be summoned first. Of course, just as the Mayor had said, though, it would only be a matter of time before the good weeded out the evil in the city. Could one law allowing a single murder per person really be enough to straighten up our broken down city?
I have my doubts, but what do I know? I ’ m only fifteen. The most criminal thing I ’ ve ever done was that time I stole a pack of gum from the corner store, and even then I brought it right back to the clerk. The guilt had been too much for me to handle, even at the age of seven. No, the law didn ’ t really seem to affect me, but I knew that it would mean something to rest of my family. You see, we aren ’ t just a typical lower class, urban, family. We ’ re what the government likes to call bottom feeders. My mom, as sweet as she is, can manipulate her way into any Congressman ’ s bed and walk out with his wallet half an hour later. My father, may Satan spite his dilapidated soul, could be considered the ring leader of our little side show. I don ’ t like to admit it, but it ’ s definitely a patriarchal system in our apartment. Even though he hasn ’ t actually committed a crime in years, he controls everything that goes on in the complex. I wasn ’ t old enough to join the family business yet, but my older brother was. He ’ d been out patrolling the streets since he turned seventeen, and he was already making a name for himself as one of the most infamous drug pushers in the Cabin—that ’ s what our complex was nicknamed. I was slowly approaching my sixteenth birthday, and I knew that meant it would be the start of my training, but I didn ’ t want that to happen. I wanted nothing to do with our business, their business, but I just…Oh? Sorry, I ’ m getting off topic, aren ’ t I?
I can remember the day the law went into effect like it was yesterday. I was sitting in the living room, reading one of the few books I was allowed to have in the house, when news broke all over the city. My Father ’ s associate, or maybe lacky would be a better term, busted into the apartment, tears streaming down his dirty face, and I could see by the look in his eyes that he was already planning his nickel and dime funeral in his head. From that moment on, it was all my family could talk about. You see, they ’ d all pissed off a lot of people in the city, the wealthy especially, so it was only a matter of time before Death started a ’ knockin ’ on our door, and my Momma wasn ’ t having any part of that. She came up with all of these plans, schemes really, to get us out, but she didn ’ t ever get the chance. But I ’ ll get back to that in a minute.
One by one, the whore houses started to shut down around the lower side. The call girls were afraid of bedding the husband of an angry wife, so they closed up shop—even if it meant taking a major pay cut. I for one was glad to see the changes happening around the city, but of course I would have been beat senseless had I said any of that out loud. It finally got to the point where no one on my street even came out of their houses anymore, unless they really had to, but I don ’ t really know why. It wasn ’ t like they could hide their pasts just by staying locked up in their bedrooms all day and night. My brother did the same, but the withdrawls started getting to him real bad, so one day he decided to just try going outside. He was only gone for a couple of hours, but turns out in that time he held up a small corner store just outside of our neighborhood, and not two days later—his letter came.
It ’ s a real formal sort of event, isn ’ t it? Two government officials, clad all in black, came to our door wearin ’ the most polite looks on their faces. My parents started screaming their heads off, saying how it was a mistake and that Thomas was a ‘ good boy ’, but once the I ’ s were dotted and T ’ s were crossed, none of that mattered. The letter stated that the shop keeper wanted it to happen in his store, so two days later the cops came and dragged him away from the house, kicking and sobbing the whole way. It was quick, and I assumed as humane as it could have been, because the old shop keeper didn ’ t really look too happy to be doing it—but his wife sure did, though. In that moment, as I stood with my face buried in my Father ’ s shoulder, I decided that maybe it wasn ’ t such a good idea after all—this law thing…but what did I know?
Things started to get back to normal after Thomas ’ death, but only because the seedy insurance company that my dad hired paid us a hefty lump sum of money for our grief and pain. It kept my Momma closer to the straight and arrow then I ’ d ever seen her, but once that money dried up, so did her desires to be good. Like I said before, she ’ d been trying to get us out of the city, but on the eve of our big move to the state over, the door rang. I guess a set of diamond earrings had gone missing from the bedroom of one of her more wealthy clients, and even though the woman was perfectly fine with her husband sleeping around, she just couldn ’ t bear to live her life without those rocks, so we got yet another visit.
This one, unlike Thomas ’, wasn ’ t quite as formal. I guess they should have felt a little rough, you know, having to kill a teenager and all of that, but my Momma—she must have just looked like a bad seed. I didn ’ t know that the killers were allowed to choose their weapons, but the toaster in the bathtub seemed a little over the top, even for my Momma. It was quick, but it damn sure wasn ’ t painless. We could hear her screams from all the way outside the mansion.
So there we were, just me and my Father. I suddenly became more anxious, scared even, to be in the apartment. With two of his most successful employees gone, that just meant he had his eyes on me now—and I didn ’ t want his eyes on any part of me. He knew he was safe, because he was too lazy to do any actual work—even if it was just thieving and stuff like that. My birthday finally rolled around, and the minute I woke up, he was standing at my door with my present. Do you want to know what it was? Hm? Well, I will tell you. It was a short skirt, a tube top, and a pair of hooker boots. Can you imagine?
I didn ’ t stick around to hear him sing me happy birthday, though. I hightailed it out of there, and didn ’ t stop running until I was as far away from the Cabin as possible. It took me a while, years actually, but I finally managed to make a name for myself. A name that wasn ’ t attached to the Byrd clan of the lower side, even. I managed to slip my way into a theater one afternoon, and that was when I became an actress. It seemed perfect for me, I mean, I ’ d been pretending to be something I wasn ’ t my whole life, it only made sense that I should get paid for it.
Well, I ’ ll stop talking your ear off now, I just wanted to make sure I got this form filled out correctly. The news reporter said that tomorrow is the final day for the legal homicides, that after that the bill will be ineffective. I didn ’ t think it ’ d last this long, actually, but thank you so much for letting me come in after hours—I ’ m sure it ’ s rather unprofessional, but I really just wanted to get this gift over to my Father ’ s house as quickly as possible.
Sign here? Alright, I can do that.
|
[ WP ] It is discovered that Possession works both ways and now we can have some payback . Demons of the underworld are now suffering under multiple cases of Humanic Possession .
|
`` God damn it, He's back! ``, Izzlyl hissed, as his interloper's presence washed over him, ebbing his consciousness to a small island within his mind, where all he could do was watch, and howl in anger and disgust as his body slithered out of his control.
Fred the Tax Audit Accountant. The miserable bastard that used his newly acquired demonic body to do nothing more than what his regular human body was n't finishing while he was on walkabout. `` He could be tempting lovers to his lair, or showing one of Master's disciples the best way to skin their sacrifice -- *but no* -- all he does is walk over to the desk he moved into the pit, turn on the monitor and desktop he had switched off before leaving the last time, and bring up Mrs. Robinson's account again, and begin to go over their deductibles'', thought Izzlyl. His eyes closed, and he began to concentrate. It felt like hours of air against stone, until finally -- he could feel a slight amount of control return -- just enough to get the message out to his captor. With great effort, he put through his plea to do as he was designed to do.
`` WHY DO N'T WE USE MY BODY AND MAIM SOME CHILDREN?!'' shrieked Izzlyl, towards the vast darkness within his head.
A moment passed, and as he waited, his throat bleeding from the exertion, he thought `` Perhaps he's finally figured out how to lock me away permanently...'', and a greatly renewed rage grew within him, and as he began to attempt his communication again, a voice cut him off.
`` Because Mrs. Robinson's audit is due in a month, and I do n't feel like waiting to get home to get it done.'' Replied Fred, demurely.
`` Now -- be -- quiet --! ``, his voice boomed upon the island. The sands where Izzlyl sat swirled in great swathes upon the shore against the darkness, stung his many eyes, and choked back his curses upon Fred within his multiple voice boxes. Izzlyl howled again, if only to himself -- coughed a large assortment of sand that did n't exist from his lungs, and collapsed.
Fred, Hell's only true Tax Audit Accountant, went back to work, muttering to himself about her lack of proper paperwork in a language only speakable with his seven tongues.
`` She can claim that as a business expense when Hell freezes over'', he thought to himself, chuckling. He was sure he heard the faintest sound of weeping.
Fred smiled.
|
[ WP ] A rich heiress who has experienced all the gratuitous decadence and luxurious depravity the world has to offer decides to hire someone to be her personal moral compass .
|
The sitting room was extravagantly adorned, the seats looked like leather, maybe imported? Hell, Frank thought, the entire room is probably imported. Maybe modeled after some European castle. Frank was wearing a suit, not an expensive man because Frank was n't a man of means, but the best he could afford. An older gentleman with the look of long suffering patience, and in a much more expensive suit, opened a pair of double doors appraised Frank, then stood aside as the beautiful Ms. Felix walked in. Sauntered in might be more appropriate, and it did wonders for what little she was wearing.
She say across from Frank, crossed her legs, and smiled at him. `` Your, uhh...''
The older man spoke up, a cultured voice, `` Mr. Frank Greene.''
`` Right, Frank. So Frank, what you'll be doing here is making me a'better person''', she made air quotes around'better person'.
`` Uhh, Ms. Felix, I have n't accepted the position yet, and what do you mean'better person'?''
She rolled her eyes and slouched in the chair, `` Well, dear old granddad says I'm a disgrace, as if that ol...'' It seemed to take a great deal of effort for her to cut herself off, `` He says if I want to inherit anything I need to be a better person. I do n't know what the fuck that means, so I'm hiring someone to do it for me.''
The Felix family had been in the news off and on for decades. Mostly for the incredibly financial success of the family in their varied business interested, but lately that had taken second fiddle to the exploits of the woman in front of Frank, who seemed to be trying hard to give a shot to every single excess humanity was capable of producing.
`` So how do I do that?''
She looked at him for a few moments, `` Look Frank, I need to be better or I do n't get any money, and your job is to make that happen. If I knew how to do that I would n't need some jackass like you, would I?''
Frank say back and thought on this until Ms. Felix interrupted him, she only waited a few seconds, `` Well, Frank, you understand, right?'Cause I've got a party to go to.'' With that she started to rise.
Frank stood first, `` I'll do it, but I have a few conditions.''
She relaxed back, an amused expression on her face, `` Oh really? Well, you ca n't fuck me. Ask him'' She waved to the well dressed man, `` about pay, you two sort that out. What else is there?'' She paused a moment, giving Frank an appraising look, `` Actually, maybe after a few drinks...''
Frank glanced at who he assumed was a butler. The old man was clearly unhappy, and just as clearly used to this sort of behavior. `` That is n't what I meant, although I will talk to him about a salary. I meant that if I'm to help you be better, then you have to listen to me.''
She waved a hand dismissively, and spoke as she stood, `` Yeah, whatever, talk all night, undivided attention. Got ta go.''
`` That is n't what I mean either. You want me to do this, you have to actually pay attention.''
`` Frank, you're damn boring and I'm not drunk or high enough for this to matter, so get to your fucking point.''
`` You have to listen, and do. If I tell you that something is a bad idea, you need to not do it, starting with not going to that party. We have to figure some things out.''
Any trace of amusement left her face, `` You do n't tell me what to do, Frank, you can go fuck yourself if you think you do. You work for me, that means you do what I tell you, not the other way!''
`` Then go to the party, I'll find another job, and when your grandfather leaves you broke maybe I can give you some job hunting tips.''
Felix glared at him, then spun to the butler, `` Do n't you fucking dare enjoy this!'' She screamed at him while he tried hard to not smile. She turned back, `` Lets start tomorrow, ok? We'll get right on this whole thing then.'' She smiled sweetly and turned to go.
`` No.'' Frank was quiet. `` Now or never.''
`` Come onnnn... You can come with me!'' She smiled again, the sort of smile that gives a man ideas, `` I know a couple girls at the party that would be totally in to a guy like you.''
`` I can get laid on my own, Alicia. Now sit down. We have a lot to discuss.''
She glared death at him until it lost all meaning, `` Fuck you so hard Frank. Fuck you too old man, and fuck grand too.'' She stormed around the room, but did n't leave, finally flopping back into a seat.
`` This is going to be soooooo boring.''
|
[ EU ] Scooby Doo , but serious and gritty .
|
`` We're here Scoobs.'' I pulled the faded blue van up slowly through the access road and listened to the wiper blades slowly screech across the windshield. Cutting the headlights I put the old machine in park and stepped out into the night rain, under a weak bulb flickering in an ancient streetlight overhead.
I flipped a dark hood up over my shaggy red hair, finally showing signs of thinning, and slid open the door of the van as my dog, Scooby gingerly hopped out and sniffed the night air.
`` This is our last one, Scoobs. I promise.'' I took a long pull from a leather wrapped flask and put it back in my coat. Walking toward a rusted chain link fence I leaned down and snipped the metal wires, one by one, wiping the water dripping in my eyes and pulling it open enough for Scoobs to go through before crawling in myself.
My foot snagged on the freshly cut wire and I could feel the torn skin start to trickle blood... I tore free and stood up, then took the shining silver revolver that had fallen from my coat and into the mud from Scooby's mouth. He gave me a sorrowful look and I scratched the grey brown fur under his jaw before plodding on through the mud.
`` Why are You here?'' A voice crept from a dark corner of the covered porch of the house and I stopped, holding up an arm to squint through the rain. `` You could never just leave it alone, could you?'' The voice called out again, `` Even as a stoned lanky fuck up.''
I saw him step out to the porch steps, even in the moonlight his hair had somehow still kept it's yellow hue, although time had drawn deep wrinkles of pain across his brow.
`` It ends here Fred.'' I slowly pulled the revolver from my pocket as Scoobs began to growl.
|
[ WP ] A man suddenly gains the ability to talk to his shadow . As they converse , it becomes apparent the shadow is real and the man is what the shadow casts .
|
`` This can not be real'' said the man as he stared into the black mass. The shape familiar, but the interaction very different. `` But it is.'' responded the void. As the man looked intently at his shadow he noticed how deep the dark actually was. How absolute the shape, and sharp the edge. Had it always been this way he wondered? `` How can this be, how can one speak with his shadow? And how can a shadow respond?'' asked the man. `` We've always been connected, you and I. Moving separately, yet as one. I ask this of you. How can two things be so close and yet be so vastly far apart? Only now that the thread between us is severed can we truly understand.'' responded the shape. `` But we are not two, you see.'' said the man, sharply. `` We are one. I am the man that casts the shadow. I am the one who the light touches, who walks in its glory.'' The man said smugly. `` If it were not for me you would cease to exist.'' A silence filled the air, and for the first time the man felt slightly crazy for speaking with this shadow. ``... That is were you are mistaken.'' Whispered the Shadow. `` The sun may guide you, but it is a shadow itself. I do not blame you for your ignorance, for it is all that you know. All that you *could* have known.''
`` Much like how the eye can only see light and color, your perception of the universe is as narrow as a horses sight with blinders on. Shadow is not void but whole, space not empty but filled, life not finite but eternal.'' The man grew visibly uncomfortable, yet the shadow continued. `` To perceive is not to understand.'' The Dark Shape grew louder. `` It is not I who is attached to thee but you, who are bound in *my* light.''
`` This can not be!'' yelled the man. `` Oh but it is, and all you need to do to truly understand is simply close your eyes and embrace the void.'' Unsure the man placed his hand on the wall beside him to brace himself, then slowly he began to close his eyes. As the light from the summer evening faded him, he saw only darkness. ``... my eyelids.'' said the man after a moment of waiting. `` Look.'' said the shadow. `` Do not perceive, but understand.''
`` Understand what?'' Asked the man. `` Understand that *you* are the shadow.'' Whispered the voice.
With a flash the man saw in his darkness, the universe in all its splendor. Not as he perceives it, but as it truly exists.
|
[ WP ] You are a guardian angel . However , you ca n't influence the world in the ways a guardian angel normally could . The only way you can protect is through music .
|
[ `` Never gon na give you up, never gon na let you down...'' ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=DLzxrzFCyOs )
I truly meant it, but the song only annoys her.
You know how they say `` God works in mysterious ways''? Well, so do her angels.
Which brings me to my near-impossible task.
Using only my magical influence over every speaker I have to guide this hapless human through the perils of every-day life, big or small.
Her least favorite song does not work to get her out of the bed. She just hid snooze and cursed a little why that bloody thing insists on repeating that song, regardless of which playlist she picks.
She ca n't be late. Not today. Time to [ kick it up a notch ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=3W9v9GxwgCM ).
That gets her into gear.
Without further musical encouragement she gets herself ready, but almost forgets her bag. I put [ Do n't you forget about me ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=CdqoNKCCt7A ) on the speakers of her iPad.
I'm really lucky with my human. Others would get paranoid, she just lost hope to get her devices obey her.
And we ’ re on our way. I tried to get her to catch an earlier bus, but the episode with her bag made her miss that one. I need to act quickly! But she needs to do the opposite. [ Slow, Love, Slow ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=t6l4H689FtM ), I admonish her through her headphones. It works, but not enough.
For a moment I leave her and glide through the ethers to find the arriving bus driver. After a short consultation with his guardian angel ( he can only influence that poor sap ’ s sense of smell ), he allows me to meddle with the PA system. It is a desperate measure, but I have to bring out the [ big guns ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=lrJz9Dh5MsM ).
It works! Startled, the bus driver rushes past the bus stop. Too late I realize that my meddling will cause the very accident I tried to protect her from.
The bus careens out of control, straight into the ongoing traffic. But all is well. Next to every scared-shitless driver is a guardian angel and they all help in their way. One tickles its human to make him steer out of the way, another summons a bee within the car to make its human crash safely into the guard rail and the less said about the angel with the power of violent diarrhea, the better.
The bus crashes into a truck transporting logs, one of which comes lose and smashes through the front windshield, piercing my human ’ s favorite seat.
No one is injured. Too bad about the property damage, but that is not in our mission description.
The guardian angels guide their humans out of the wreck and I return to mine, who is obliviously waiting at the bus stop.
I know she does n't like me meddling with her playlists, but if feel [ like a boss ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=IkTw7J-hGmg ).
|
[ WP ] We finally get men on Mars and they discover an old Soviet flag placed down decades ago . The Soviets won the space race but for whatever horrifying reason did n't say anything .
|
Elon Musk had always announced his intention for SpaceX to be the first stages towards colonizing Mars, his desire to'die there, but not on landing'. That was quite few years ago, and that time brings the first rocket drifting into a stable orbit around the Red Planet. No new technical development, no new engine designs, good old rocketry pushed very hard and a dedicated crew to take the radiation hit and months of travel time. They had to be dedicated - they were ordered to be.
It costs the Chinese a lot. Research money, of course, human lives, naturally, but political capital too. Espionage to delay SpaceX's plans was n't cheap and smoothing and quietening the ruffles as it gets discovered is pricier still. But certainly worth it - `` First Human on Mars'' would echo through history in a way `` biggest radio telescope for a few years'' or `` third space station'' never will. And it is a title Beijing has its eyes set on as part of their push to promote big-S Science in China.
The orbiter is bustling with preparations proceeding normally until an interruption from visitors at Mission Control. They are Politicians not engineers or scientists, and they bear no gifts, only command authority and new instructions. The Lander release will be delayed, long enough to move the landing to new coordinates.
The Lander incorporates lessons learned from the American Moon Landing of the 1960s; one entire side can open so both occupants can leave and descend to the surface simultaneously. Why print one Chinese name in the history books when you can print two? Male and Female side by side in the pilot seats as the lander descends. Male and Female side by side as they check the instruments, and prepare their exit as the technical voiceover recorded on the ground plays over the top, their faces obscured by pressure suit helmets. Male and Female pictured side by side, seen from the Lander chassis camera as the Lander opens wide.
Amazement almost apparent on the sketch of their faces visible through the mirrored visors - this is the image shown to the watching World Media. The associated audio of their observations and expletives is not played to the World Media. Nor is the footage of the Russian Federation flag.
The Lander and both crew-members lost. Beijing is furious. Blame is floating around and everyone wants to shoo it somewhere else. Arguments so hot the communication lines between government departments give serious consideration to melting. In 1969 the Americans and the Russians raced to the Moon not to *land* but to *pick up something*. The Russians did n't lose the space race, they merely lost the lead. When they went quiet it was to take the wind out of the American People's sails - why fund space when there's no more competition to win? But they only went quiet they did n't stop. Arriving on Mars with 1970s technology was an achievement for sure.
Beijing was never quite sure what happened next - The Russians could n't make it back, or they could n't *bring* it back? Mars and back was a stretch to far, but Beijing was n't expecting that they would have left it *defended*. Officially the USSR was never there at all, so this could only be a critical Lander power supply failure, not a booby trap, not murder, not a declaration of war.
The Lander and both crewmembers lost. Beijing noticed. Beijing with its active space program, trained astronauts, orbiter around Mars, but nothing ready to launch has most certainly noticed.
Sudden bursts of radiation, loss of radio contact. NASA has noticed. NASA with 10-20 billion dollars a year of funding going somewhere, and only a fraction of a space station and the remains of a Mars rover to show for it, what are they developing? They have no public flight ready shuttles, and no political will for manned spaceflight, but they've definitely noticed.
Last minute change of landing, *those* coordinates, no propaganda footage of the first Mars walk, oh the Russians have noticed. Russia still flying their'1970s technology'. They recently announced reduced funding for Roscosmos, but with 70 billion dollars a year in'military' funding, they have unquestionably noticed.
Elon Musk has noticed. SpaceX with the only off-shore launch and land capability, the newest and most innovative and lowest cost rocket manufacturing facilities, independently funded, run with plans from the start to go to Mars. They have no flight certified hardware for humans, but they've absolutely noticed.
and Professor Colin Pillinger - may he rest in peace - would have noticed. The Beagle 2 Mars lander mission he fronted for the European Space Agency in 2003, a lander which'failed to deploy' for'unknown reasons', might need to wake up soon.
It's not a good time for any one of them, but when the starting gun fires, the race is on.
|
[ WP ] The hero was killed , the princess was sacrificed , and the evil king rules the land . For the average citizen , though , things have taken a turn for the better .
|
The sorceress known as Empress Iredeen is officially recorded as a regicide and war criminal. Her legion of loyal dragons slaughtered thousands of young men and old knights during her war with the king. Towns and cities burnt to ash along with those who lived within. And when she finally reached the castle with the hero's corpse dragging from the saddle of her winged mount, she laughed as her dragons devoured the royal family before King Rickard's eyes before beheading him herself and casting his head down into the streets below.
The months that followed the end of the war were filled with the deepest of despair. We were stripped of all freedom, sent to live and work where she chose. All the children were taken away to her reeducation camps to `` learn to better serve their Empress.'' She seized all of the farm land and transformed the scattered orchards and fields into single massive labor camps where the men and women worked to bring her the riches of the land. Many were sent away from the countryside altogether to mine the mountains where her old fortress stood. Smiths, carpenters, architects and laborers worked endlessly to fulfill her vanity as the citizens slept on the floor in little more than huts. She had ears everywhere, any attempt at rebellion ended before it began with the conspirators being spirited away in the night.
When we heard that Prince Tersch from the Duchy to the south had been sighted with his ranks of Ivory knights we felt hope for the first time since she took the capital. That hope quickly faded with each scrap of news from the border camps. The prince's knights were no better equipped to fight the Empress's monsters than our own were, after a few weeks unable to fight directly they instead turned to burning fields and poisoning water, killing laborers in an attempt to weaken the Empress's forces. Empress Iredeen did n't care in the least as we starved, or coughed blood from contaminated water, but what she would not suffer was `` some swaggering princeling to sate his ego with the blood of [ her ] land''. She sent all three thousand of the Ivory knights along with the prince back to the Duchy as charred corpses piled in carts she force their own soldiers to pull. When the Duchess sent a second army to avenge her son it did n't even leave Duchy land before it was decimated.
No one else dared act against her after that, the other lands cut all ties with us and declared the Empress's lands forsaken. We ourselves resigned to a fate of eventual collapse and starvation or death under the rule of a tyrant. But as history shows, events took a rather unforeseen turn. As the months passed the labor camps became more structured. Our simple huts with dirt floors became more akin to barracks with orderly cots. Rather than work us until we collapsed, we were divided carefully into shifts maintained by time-keeping devices of the the Empress's own divining. Instead of starving on scraps we ate three times a day of our own bountiful harvest and livestock.
After a year passed the Empress began allowing us to see our children at the end of each month, and by competing against other labor camps for higher yields, we could see them more often. To our shock instead of being broken and scarred our children were healthy. Whats more they could read and write, better even than the majority of the relative few adults who were literate. They were clearly hesitant and wary of our reaction, but they spoke well of their captor. They told of how they ate better than they ever had before, how their beds were soft as king's, and they held themselves with pride when they showed us the fruit of their education and combat training. Our stomach's churned at the way the Empress had captured the admiration of our children as easily as she had slaughter their friends and family but though none would speak it aloud, in our hearts we all held at bay thoughts the same as the children's.
After two years had passed the Empress began to hold skill evaluations and to move some of us back into the cities. Instead of ruins we found buildings taller and grander than those in our memories. She provided bakers and cooks with the very best ingredients, the tailors with the very finest threads and fabrics, all from the labor camps that we ourselves had worked at shortly before. Smiths and jewelers crafted beautiful works of art from the riches we mined out of the mountains. By the fourth year of her reign the city streets were unrecognizable. In preparation for reopening trade the Empress has instituted a system of credit in order to create an economy. We still lived and worked where she chose, but monthly evaluations allowed for advancement and relocation. Families were able to reestablish ties and the children now spent one month of the year living with their families. Credit to buy nonessential items was issued according to the yield and skill of our labors. Standard food and housing however were assigned to us regardless of credit. None of us starved in the streets not because she valued out lives, but because she would, `` not have [ her ] streets dirtied by vagrants.''
The fifth year of Empress Iredeen's reign saw the reopening of trade in a grand celebrations at the capital. Envoys from every country arrived to see what had become of the country declared forsaken. The rulers of the other lands had some notion of changes happening under the Empress's rule, but she guarded her border jealously with terrifying beasts and used powerful spells to distort scrying and repel familiars. I recall the unconcealed shock on the faces of the envoys. Where they expected the raw metals and gems of a tyrant, they saw instead finery fit for their benefactors. Under the royal family our country had traded mostly in harvest and livestock, but the Empress gathered those from every profession into schools and provided them with book and scrolls detailing the finest techniques from every land. Near five years spent exclusively in honing their craft with the aid of masters showed.
After the initial festivities the Empress invited the more elite of the envoys to a banquet held in the throneroom of her castle, now rebuilt to near twice it's previous size. I was personally present. I had seen her once before, but it was the first, though not last, time I had been in the Empress's presence, and truly to say I was in her presence is the most apt description. Her will seemed to envelop and dominate all around her, when she looked at each envoy in turn she seem to measure them exactly, every skill and weakness, every impulse and intention. She welcomed them all with a smile perfectly replicating that of a gracious host, and invited them to share what they thought of the days festivities. Each inflection of a word and movement perfectly calculated.
A few of the envoys offered quintessential compliments, but one of the more prideful and less cunning scoffed beneath his breath. [ The following is an account of the conversation that transpired thereafter. ] ( *continued in comments* )
|
[ WP ] You 're a scientist working for the government . You encounter a secret spaceship that the government hid away . You 're informed that no one knows how to take it apart or even open it . You touch the door of the spaceship , and suddenly it opens .
|
Secret door, dark door. What had I stumbled upon? Working long days like a cigarette burning in an ashtray left unattended. After all the trials our team faced unearthing that mysterious craft, my curiosity had begun turning to frustration. It was a strange time for myself when Dr. Vasques approached me about a `` strange little secret'' five weeks before. `` I think you'll be most intrigued,'' he said, smiling that crooked, sarcastic smile. I knew he hid worry underneath; he was the only real friend I had in this gawdy facility.
Divorce, booze and smoke kept me up on late nights while I used my office space as an apartment. It had begun feeling more like a prison at that point, one with a sleeping bag instead of a cot. That part of my life felt like it would never change, even after I entered the balcony room overlooking the sterile garage. The big pane of glass wobbling a bit as the door closed behind Vasques and I.
`` So, what is it?'' I asked, approaching the two men nose deep in their computer terminals. Little knobs and dials peppered their control board. One stood and looked me over.
`` A couple farmers in Eastern Washington found this and dug it up, thinking it was some sort of buried treasure or something.'' He motioned to the garage below.
There sat a strange triangular ship sitting atop five steel legs. It looked as though it had been a polished metal at one point in time, but that was certainly a thing of its past. The side had been crumpled in a bit from impact and the whole craft was still covered in chunks of dirt, moss, scratches, dents, char spots. A crew of five walked about taking photos and meticulously pulling strings of gunk out of the dents and cracks. The vessel itself was big enough you could swim in it if it did n't have a roof. There were no windows or doors I could make out from up there.
Vasques piped up. `` We contacted some high level military officers and asked about this, and it did n't match any projects the Air Force is experimenting with, secret or otherwise.''
`` They found their buried treasure, then.'' I was itching for a snifter of Knobb Creek.
`` Any other news, Matthews?'' Vasques looked inquisitively at the man.
Matthews thought for a moment, then sat back in his chair. `` Well, we've only had it in our care for about two hours now, and the crew downstairs just got in to take a look at the thing.'' He flipped through some emails on his terminal and stopped at one in particular. `` You may want to look at this, though, Dr. Barchard.''
I stood behind Matthews' chair and gandered at his terminal.
SENDER: CHARLES FELDMANN
TO: MATTHEWS.DARRELL @ PROJECTMGT.GOV
DARRELL, PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT THE CHAIRMAN IS REQUESTING THE ASSISTANCE OF DRS. VASQUES AND BARCHARD ON YOUR NEWEST REQUISITION. WE AWAIT WITH EAGER EARS REAGARDING YOUR INITIAL FINDINGS. REMEMBER TO LOG EVERY DETAIL. REGARDS, CHARLES
`` Shit,'' Vasques murmured, then turned to me. I met his worried stare, though he looked right through me. `` This is serious.'' His face looked like he just walked into the clinic to get snipped.
Feldmann only ever asked for my help one other time. Vasques and I ended up in Egypt looking through stacks of dug up papyrus working with a couple strange guys who decrypted forgotten languages. Vasques was hilariously miserable in the heat despite his complexion.
`` Maybe we'll get to sip on some more of that Sauvignon Blanc, eh, Manny?'' I wandered to the nearest chair I could find, sitting with a heavy sigh. `` I need a drink.''
-- -
`` Are you ready?'' Vasques had his hands jammed in the pockets of his lab coat. Maybe I was n't the only one with gin on his breath in the room that morning.
`` Never leave the house without my pen and paper,'' I said snidely.
`` Take this a little more seriously, please?''
`` Let's just do this, man, this fuckin' thing gives me chills.'' I pulled my beard from cheeks to chin.
It had been three weeks and I had barely stepped foot outside. My legs had surely lost muscle mass and my eyes felt like they were going to swell out of my skull. Each night was a bender, trying to figure out my dented ship, my dented life. There were no real breakthroughs in either department. Just going through the motions, trudging through quicksand and hoping I could stop myself from sinking long enough to see the sunrise.
The cleanup crew did a bang-up job repolishing the ship in the garage, though Vasques found a way to complain about how long it took them finish. One of the crew approached us, breaking from their little huddle twenty feet away.
`` Sir.'' He stepped between us and the vessel.
`` What can we do you for, kid?'' I asked.
`` Well, we found what appears to be a possible entry, but it's the strangest thing...'' He trailed off, looking at his clipboard. He ran one of his hands over his sharp jawline, whiteknuckling his own mouth into a distressed pucker.
`` Well? Spit it out, kid.''
He leered at me. `` Well, the alloy this thing is made of is... inhumanly strong. Its resistance ot heat and pressure is astounding and there does n't seem to be any intuitive way to open the hatch.''
`` Well, c'mon, this is show and tell - so let's get to the showing part.'' I crossed my arms and looked at him demanding. Clearly annoyed, he obliged.
We looked the craft over quickly enough with no findings, though there was a clear line of separation in the metal that could very well have been some sort of door on the bottom.
`` You've tried everything you could to open this, then, huh?'' Vasques inquired.
`` Sure have, sir,'' the kid replied, `` and we also noticed that the turbines on the back are emitting a strange radiation - similar to solar, but it's very weak. It's not unsafe to be near, but precautions are never a bad idea.''
`` That's why I do n't have any kids,'' I chortled, amusing only myself. `` You've been helpful, kid. Nothing further.''
Vasques and I took the next few hours poking and prodding around the hopeful hatch and thrusters, trusting they would n't explode in our faces as we peered as far into the ship as we could.
The ship and its hatch remained a mystery.
-- -
My phone woke me from my drunken slumber. It was producing an odd belching noise. Secret door, dark door. The words invaded my mind. I could still feel the sway of liquor pressing my chest to the carpet. I did n't even make it to my sleeping bag the night before. I wiped the snooze from my eyes and propped myself on my elbows, looking for my phone. It glowed from the other side of the room. Maybe it was Carrie? The fuck could that witch want? Slowly, hesitantly, my legs took me from the floor to the other side of the room. I fumbled and stumbled and finally found my phone in my hands. I turned the screen on and the display read only one thing: Secret door, dark door.
I felt instantly sober. Nothing swirled inside me, and the air in my office settled and seemed almost quieter. I sat in a moment of silence, reading those words over and over. I stood and grabbed a cigarette off my desk and lit it as I sat in my chair. My phone almost set itself on the desk and quietly turned off. I pulled the lever on my banker's lamp and glanced at the clock above the door. Both hands sat on the 4.
My legs carried me slowly out of my office, a bottle and a cigarette in hand. My stomach began to stir again. It felt like my eyes were closed as I navigated the facility. I arrived at the garage and felt a slow burning from the front of my brain to the back. I felt strangely calm for the first time in months. I watched as my hand held my ID card up to the reader by the door. A quiet beep overhead granted me access like it was patting me on the back. I took a pull off my bottle. The door slid aside and let my legs through, the rest of me neatly stacked on top like a waiter carrying a stack of plates.
`` Secret door, dark door.''
It was as though I were floating into the garage, and as soon as I entered alone, I noticed a low glow radiating from the darkness. The hatch. Was it a blue light? Green? Red? I could n't tell. My eyes were fixated on it, and I could n't budge my head from its imposition toward the ship. The door, without a sound, slowly opened underneath the legs holding everything up. A ramp slowly ejected from the back of the irradiated door. I slowly approached. There was a feeling of serenity that came over me as I grew closer to the machine before me, though only a machine in aesthetic. I felt myself consciously regaining control over my own body again. Each step felt more and more like me. Each sip felt more and more like me.
I was at the ramp, that had touched down without a sound. I dropped my smoke. Stepped onto the ramp. White noise began filling my ears, softly at first. I tried to peer into the ship as I took my next step, but the light felt more like a fog from there.
`` Have I been here before?'' I asked aloud, as if someone with all the answers were waiting at the top of the ramp.
Another step. Another sip.
Soon, I was at the top of the ramp. I could hear someone speaking my name, `` John!'' though it felt so far away. `` John!''
Slowly at first, but then pronounced and quickly, my body felt like a swirling storm. Every breath was a gust of wind. Every heartbeat was an earthquake. My legs were trees, and my whiskey was a river falling into my stomach pond.
John!
The storm was gone. I was back in the garage, the lights just starting to flicker on. I turned around and saw Manuel Vasques, my first and only friend in this God-forsaken facility. His face was twisted into a terrified frenzy. He sprinted toward me.
As soon as he neared the ramp, the ship sucked it back into itself like a spaghetti noodle. And I was the meatball. I had one last look at Manny before the hatch slammed shut with a terrible crashing noise. Everything was dark, and I was blind as night. A low rumbling noise came from behind me, then a whirring of an engine. I heard Manny beating on the hatch door, then I did n't.
Secret door, dark door. What had I stumbled upon? I took another pull off my bottle.
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.